“I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m going to help. I’ve just never encountered a spirit like this,” Chander murmured, his brain flipping through his entire mental spellbook. There was no way he was going to be the reason this man died if he could help it. Though at a glance, Chander couldn’t see how he could be saved. Every visible inch of him was a bloodied mess.
“The humans told us that they found this man unconscious on the road. A young wolf had been hit by a car.”
“You think it’s the same wolf?” Alaric asked.
The doctor nodded. “I believe he thinks he’s guarding him when, in reality, he’s hastening his death.”
“You have a resurrection spell for animals,” Alaric told his mate. “The wolf has the soul of a sentinel. If you bond him to the man, it might save his life. It certainly would protect him in the future.”
“I broke sentinels free for a reason Alaric, and I need a piece of his soul to tie them together. As sick as he is, I might kill him in the process.”
“If it’s his only shot to live, then I think we should take it,” the doctor stressed.
“A wolf sentinel,” Chander murmured out loud, piecing together a spell in his mind that was a combination of one he’d memorized that had created three of the men around him and another he’d written for animals. “Superior tracking, impervious to temperature, able to reveal lies, summoning ability for the guy when he’s awake, attuned to the guy’s extreme bodily responses to help him in danger, invisibility—though I’d prefer him to use that as a last resort since a wolf walking in is scary enough—and we’ll leave his form to Fate. Anything else?”
“Let the wolf communicate telepathically with the man, so he can tell him if he needs something or warn him verbally of danger,” Alaric suggested.
“He’s a wolf, so I’m not sure how that works, but I can suggest it and hope it works. The guy will have to speak aloud to communicate back, because I can’t influence his mind. Okay, let’s do this,” Chander said. Once everyone around him nodded, he took one step forward and pulled off his jacket, which Alaric took. Letting his demon free, his wings tore through his dress shirt as he lifted his hands, calling out to the wolf spirit.
Chander gathered his magic, carefully sought out the edge of the dying man’s soul, and found it already trying to head toward the veil. Giving it a small tug to keep it in place, he hoped it would help. Speaking his spell aloud, while throwing in as much power as he could, the wisp of the ethereal wolf turned into a large black one with thin streaks of gray scattered through his fur. The animal woofed at Chander the moment the resurrection spell was completed. Running to the bed, the wolf growled at the medical professionals creeping forward.
“Call the fallen knights,” Alaric demanded. “He will need to be sedated, and they should find out what happened to this man anyway.”
Baxter had his phone out and was likely calling the two men who led the Order of the Fallen Knights.
“Thank you, Arch Lich,” the doctor said. “Um…what do we do if we can’t save him?”
“Call me,” Chander replied. “We’ll take the wolf and care for him.”
∞∞∞
Reverent Knight Conley Gylde-Kempe strode down the hall with fury hastening his steps. “Fucking humans,” he muttered to his mate, who was stomping alongside him. They were waved around a security station manned by dragons. When they got to it, Conley hit the button for the elevator and the moment the doors closed them inside the box, he grabbed Drystan’s uniform, yanking him to his chest. Sealing their lips together, he kissed him voraciously. A ping sounded, and he shoved Drystan away to stalk out into the hall.
“What the fuck was that for?” Drystan demanded. They stalked past a desk with a dragon duke, who just grinned at them as they passed.
“Needed to burn off some of this anger,” Conley informed him. “I might kill someone otherwise.”
“We’re the good guys, Con.”
“Right,” Conley groused as they walked into the Office of the Emperor.
“Go on in,” Royal Duke-mate Niko Draconis said once he saw them.
Never in a million years would Conley display any of the rage inside him toward the gentle man in front of him, so he mustered up a smile and blew him a kiss as he pushed through the doors that blocked him from the two most powerful men in the Council of Sorcery and Shifters.
“I can tell by the look on your faces that you’re going to ruin my afternoon,” Emperor Chrysander Draconis said when he saw them. “Have a seat and tell us what’s going on.”
“Have you talked to Chand?” Drystan asked.
Chrysander nodded. “I know he resurrected a wolf for this man yesterday and that the guy managed to survive two surgeries, which are the first of many he’ll need should he last that long. The doctor, unfortunately, called to inform us that they determined he was a dragon while we were at lunch. We’ve been unable to get a hold of him to get an in-depth update on his condition.”
“A dragon who has no beast,” Conley said, shaking his head in disbelief. “This guy must have the courage of ten men.”
“They know for sure he has no beast?” Imperial Duke Damian Draconis asked.
“Not a scale to be seen in his eyes, and his blood work is barely registering him more than human. That’s why the humans got to him first. From what we understand, they didn’t do him many favors, though once he was transferred to the Council the druids certainly unwittingly played a massive part in pushing this guy closer to the veil,” Drystan responded.
“Okay, tell me what you know,” Chrysander ordered. “Chand said they found him on a road?”
“Yeah, I don’t know where. I assume somewhere in Kentucky, since that’s where the humans transferred him to a Council hospital, but they aren’t cooperating,” Conley stated. “We’ve learned that he was medevacked from somewhere to a larger place because of the extent of his injuries. I have no way to track him due to the way he traveled. Not even the sentinels had any luck. Where he was hurt and who is responsible is at this point unknown. I don’t even know who he is, and I doubt even his mother could recognize him. His intolerance to magic caused massive swelling, and he was already covered in festering wounds. They’re pumping him full of medicines and he’s in a coma, which they say at this point is a good thing because it allows him to start healing, but he’s malnourished and full of infection. They had to remove parts of internal organs because they distended so much in reaction to the magic that it choked off the blood supply killing the cells. I would show you pictures that we took for evidence but, honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea. He’s fucked up, and the doctors are giving him less than a one percent chance at survival. This is likely going to be a homicide investigation.”
“He is a dragon; can we donate blood to assist? I know often doctors can boost healing that way. We are strong and we could call D’Vaire,” Emperor Ellery Draconis offered.
“We asked, and apparently that’s a no go. He can’t handle it because he’s not really a dragon. He’s somewhere between human and shifter. No one has ever survived losing their beast, so this is chartering new ground. With this doctor’s friend who works for the humans, they managed to get their hands on donated blood. They’re using it to heavily dilute dragon blood and are working on the right mixture to aid him. The doctor says they’re basically having to make things up on the go because he doesn’t really fit into a category that anyone is familiar with. He’s weaker than a drakeling even, right now. They’re not sure if that’s a result of his extensive injuries or what. Time will tell,” Conley provided.
“What happened to him?” Damian asked.
“I don’t know yet. I want him to wake up so we can ask him but, if that miracle happens, it may be weeks from now. There are scars everywhere. Whatever happened, it wasn’t a singular event. The doctor told me there’s evidence of whipping, burns, and beatings. This guy was tortured,” Drystan commented, and the fury boiled through Conley’s veins as he thought about i
t yet again.
“I don’t suppose we know if it was humans or one of ours, do we?” Ducblanc Zane Draconis asked.
Conley blew out a breath. “No clue. I have no suspects. No crime scene. No name of even the victim. At this point, the best I can do is narrow it down potentially to one state where I believe the crime may have been committed, which basically gives me crap to work with.”
“I will call the human police, and Chrys and I will try to pressure them into telling us more. It may not work, but at least we will have tried,” Ellery stated.
“That’s a good idea, Elf. These guys have been complete assholes. We don’t even know how long they held on to him before his transfer,” Drystan said. “And I’ll give Tiri a dollar for my swear word.”
“In this case, please keep it,” Ducblanc-mate Tiridythas D’Vaire pleaded, and Conley smiled at the sprite with wet eyes watching them from the workshop that was nestled inside the large office. “I hope you can help this poor man.”
“Me too, Tiri,” Conley replied.
“I want him to live, and I want justice,” Chrysander stated.
“We’ll keep you updated,” Drystan remarked, getting to his feet. “We’ve got fallen knights volunteering to take their turn guarding him. We all want to figure out what kind of sick fuck would do this, and I keep telling that wolf we have to keep tranquilized to continue to give this guy his strength. He’s going to need it.”
Chapter 24
Something inside of Aleksander made him keep track of the time he’d spent away from Rafferty, though it hurt with each passing month, and there had now been seven of them. Long ago, he’d stopped speaking with Sullivan, and he refused to ask Kendrick for updates. Rafferty’s youngest sibling didn’t offer them either, which Aleksander appreciated. There was no way he could listen to anything about the girlfriend he might still have or any other exploits. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t even bring himself to delete his contact information on his phone, let alone move forward with separation papers.
Each day he simply tried to make it through without thinking of him, and there were even occasions when he was nearly successful. But at night, when everyone was nestled in their beds, he lay in his and mourned for what might’ve been and the friendship Rafferty had so cruelly axed. His dreams were plagued with dark rooms and pain, leaving Aleksander tired when he woke. It didn’t stop him from forcing himself up though, to do his best to be there for the family that had started more than six centuries ago when he’d been forced off his father’s land.
The incredible people who shared his name did everything they could to keep up his spirits, making his love for them grow. So as he walked into his living room on Monday night, he shook off his despair and if his smile had dimmed since Rafferty walked away, then there was little Aleksander could do about it. Getting a grin from Dra’Kaedan, Aleksander sat on a comfortable sofa. The Grand Warlock worked hard to grow a sanctuary that had from the start added new people incredibly slowly, so on nights like this one he was practically vibrating with excitement.
When the forty people and three dragon familiars surrounding Aleksander grew quiet, he started their weekly meeting. “Thanks, everybody, for being here tonight. I’m going to hand things over to Dra’Kaedan so he can update you on his coven.”
“I feel like such a warlock when you say that.”
“Squirt…you are a warlock.”
“I know that, Tallosaur. I’m just saying it makes me feel more mystical when you refer to my coven that way.”
“I assume that’s a good thing?”
“Of course it is,” Dra’Kaedan remarked, handing Aleksander a stack of papers and giving another bunch to his familiar. “We have a new applicant, you guys! His name is Kitchi Āēhsepan, and he’s a raccoon shifter. So, here’s his deal. Before the Council of Sorcery and Shifters arrived in North America, many Native American tribes lived in harmony with both shifters and magickind. However, once the humans forced us to sign the treaty that stated that we could not intermingle, the tribes had no choice but to kick shifters out. So, Kitchi’s parents were from a tribe in Wisconsin called the Menominee, and the moment they signed a treaty with the human government, they had to ask his folks to leave. They joined the Prycyon Iotor shifter community, which is all raccoon. Their leader is Adsila Gvli, and she’s the doyenne of her people. They live in really scattered groups with no current sanctuaries, and the doyenne transfers anyone unhappy around, but Kitchi’s problem is that he’s already been moved around a ton. It was Adsila’s suggestion that he fill out our application because she has limited resources and a lot of raccoons to keep content.”
“She’s a lovely woman. Fate chose her as Doyenne around the time Kitchi was seventeen. He’d just lost his parents to a fatal car accident and Kitchi was, literally, the first issue she tackled. Adsila initially set up a sanctuary, but the problem is that raccoons generally do not do well in large populations together, and the fighting became intolerable, so she had to change her tactic. Kitchi’s struggled to find himself; he has tried many careers—the most recent being a hair stylist. He loved it, but raccoons are apparently notorious for having sensitive hands, and he was forced to quit because he simply couldn’t handle the damage from the constant washing and the chemicals. He’s searching for what’s next,” Aleksander added.
“If raccoons don’t do well in groups, why would D’Vaire be a good place for him?” Noirin asked.
“Kitchi’s the rare breed of raccoon who is genuinely looking for people to connect to. He has always wanted a large family,” Killian explained. The leader of the druids had been enthusiastic about the entire process once he found out he was selected to participate, and Aleksander appreciated his willingness to help. “Raccoons are also a matriarchal society, and while they do not openly discriminate, a gay man in a society like that is perceived as having less value. It’s an attitude Adsila is trying to change, but people are inherently stubborn when it comes to new ideas.”
“What’s Kitchi like?” Worth inquired.
Aleksander grinned. “He’s fun. Kitchi is forty-five and bubbly. We spoke at length with him, and he had a million questions about the house, the people here, and Arizona itself. He likes the idea of finding a place where he can settle. Kitchi likes to read, watch movies, and he admitted that he’s terribly lonely. While there are many raccoons, he feels like an island as the only Menominee. The tribes kept their last names in their native language, so it’s apparent to other shifters like him where he hails from, making him an instant outcast. But for Kitchi, who has never even been to the Menominee reservation, he feels like a fraud. I enjoyed talking with him a great deal.”
“We all did,” Renny enthused. “He’s a ton of fun and called himself a freak about a dozen times. I feel like he’d be a great fit.”
“Maybe we could get him to cut Aleksander’s hair if he gets voted in, so I don’t have to do it any longer,” Noirin muttered.
“I’ve told you I can go out and find a stylist,” Aleksander retorted.
“I’m not going to make you do that,” Noirin fired back.
“And anyway, I already asked him,” Killian interjected, kneading his mate’s shoulders. “Dray here doesn’t like leaving the house either. Kitchi’s on board to help anyone at D’Vaire. He loves what he used to do and is willing to cut any head of hair in the house.”
“Any more questions before I call a vote?” Aleksander asked. When no one offered up one, he smiled. “Okay, everybody, who votes yes to let Kitchi join Dra’Kaedan’s Coven?” Every hand in the room went up, and a feeling of satisfaction rushed through Aleksander the way it did whenever they were able to expand the family they each nurtured. It was a beautiful feeling, and for just a moment, true happiness melted away his heartbreak, but it didn’t last, because nothing would bring Rafferty back.
∞∞∞
Conley walked into the Intensive Care Unit of the Nashville Council Hospital, and he and his mate immediately ran into the same doct
or that had overseen the mystery patient’s care since the moment he’d been moved from the emergency room nearly ten weeks ago.
“Dr. Odocoileus, how are you?” Drystan asked the white-tailed deer shifter. The man’s brown hair was sticking up, but he had a genuine smile on his face.
“We took him off life support yesterday. He’s groggy but was able to answer a few basic questions. Thus far, he’s refused any effort to get his name. I’m hoping you two can help us there and persuade him to tell us. It’s hard to say if he has any memory of the events that led him here. He’s in a very fragile state, and I know you want to speak with him, but I can’t give you much time, and I must insist that you don’t stress him out. We’ve worked very hard to get him here, and it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s alive. However, he’s still in terrible shape and has more to endure if we’re going to give him any quality of life.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll only ask him a few questions. We really just want to be able to find out who he is. I mean, this guy has been here for two and a half months. If he’s got family somewhere, they might want to know he’s alive. Although, we’ve checked through the missing persons reports on the entire continent and he matches none of them,” Conley responded.
“Well, go on in, his wolf is waking a bit too. He’ll need to be tranquilized again.”
“I’m hoping we can come to an arrangement soon. Perhaps the wolf will come home with us for a little while or something. We can’t keep him out of it forever,” Conley commented, his brow furrowed. To date, the doctor had only allowed the wolf a day at most to walk around, and Conley didn’t think it was good to keep the animal knocked out for such lengthy periods.
Heart of the High King (D'Vaire, Book 19) Page 17
