Resurrection Of The Fallen

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “I hate him,” Conley confided to Drystan.

  “Join the club,” Roman said as he shoved Vann away.

  “Please, you all love me and you know it,” Vann declared.

  Conley cocked his head to the side. “I keep trying to picture what your mate could possibly be like.”

  “Well, obviously, my mate will be gorgeous like me,” Vann replied as he fluttered his lashes over his blue eyes.

  “It’s a good thing you are impossible to kill, or we’d have to strip your mate of all weapons before you two went anywhere near each other,” Drystan stated.

  “Conley, feel free to jump in here and knock some sense into your man again today,” Vann offered.

  “Your mate is probably the fabled unicorn shifter,” Conley commented.

  “How awesome would that be?” Vann said as he smacked his hand down onto the table. “I get to take credit for discovering a new kind of shifter and I get to pet a unicorn.”

  “How much has he had to drink?” Drystan asked Roman.

  “Certainly not enough to start believing in unicorns.”

  “It could be the stress of his job,” Conley suggested. “Maybe we should let him and Kyle switch duties for a while.”

  “Oh, come on,” Roman pleaded. “That hurts me more than him. I’m the one who would have to pick up Kyle’s slack. Not to mention the repairs I would have to arrange for all the equipment owned by the fallen knights.”

  “He’s got a point. There’s a reason Kyle is limited to breaking the copier and his own computer,” Drystan said to Conley, who faked a crestfallen expression.

  “Okay, but if he keeps talking about unicorns, I get to knock the shit out of him,” Conley remarked.

  “I vote you knock the shit out of him even if he never says the word unicorn again,” Roman suggested.

  Vann gave a fake sniff. “I’m starting to think I’m not appreciated around here. Reverent Knight Gylde wants to kick my ass, and Venerable Knight Calixtus is trying to incite violence against my person.”

  “Now I want to kick your ass,” Drystan said.

  “Says the man who already got his ass handed to him today,” Vann replied with a shit-eating grin. Drystan flicked him off.

  “Probably some new freaky kind of foreplay they’re using,” Roman commented.

  “Oh gross. I don’t want to think about them doing the nasty,” Vann retorted.

  “How the fuck old are you anyway?” Drystan asked.

  “My age and wisdom are timeless,” Vann intoned in a solemn voice.

  “I’m going to need more beer if I have to keep listening to this,” Conley said.

  “Take notes, grasshopper, you will grow as a person just by being exposed to my greatness,” Vann replied.

  “I’m finished with my beer if you want to leave,” Drystan said to Conley.

  “Come on, let’s go make out,” Conley invited as he stood up. “We can listen to these chuckleheads on Monday.”

  “Have fun, boys,” Vann called out as they grabbed hands and headed away from the table. Drystan had every intention of doing just that which had both an up and a down side. He got to enjoy Conley’s sexy mouth, but he had to go home alone. Nervous as he was about intimacy, it couldn’t compete with his desire to see the next four weeks fly by.

  Chapter 36

  One week later, Conley was standing next to Drystan with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. It was mid-morning, and they were waiting in one of the marked areas for magical teleportations awaiting Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan D’Vaire, who was going to take them to the Draconis Court of D’Vaire. Conley’s hand was locked in Drystan’s grasp and he doubted they could be doing much better at this mating business.

  They spent most of their days together and while the frustration of going home alone and aroused each night was very real, Conley knew it was only a short-term issue, so he was dealing with it. It seemed Fate had done her work well; he and Drystan got along as if they had been friends for centuries instead of only a couple of weeks. When it came to ruling over their fallen knights, they were discovering they saw eye to eye on most issues and both of them were willing to engage in open and honest discussion over the ones they did not.

  As far as chemistry, if their kissing was anything to go by, and Conley thought it had to be, they couldn’t be any better suited. Drystan could have him melting at his feet in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t wait to get his sexy mouth wrapped around his cock and Conley was putting together a mental list of all the things he was going to do to Drystan when the next three weeks were over.

  “Grand Warlock,” he heard Drystan call out. A short man with a head full of blond ringlets swung around to face them. He was wearing a snug pair of faded jeans and a navy T-shirt with, “I’d rather be eating cake” written across it, and next to him was a man taller than Drystan by about an inch also in denim and a T-shirt only his said, “Dra’Kaedan’s Keeper.” The warlock and his mate walked toward them and when they got closer, Conley saw another line of small text under Dra’Kaedan’s preferred activity; it was in parentheses and read, “or Brogan.”

  “Conley, this is Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan and his mate, Duke Brogan,” Drystan said. Conley shook hands with both the sorcerer and the dragon shifter.

  They gave hugs to Drystan, and after everyone had exchanged greetings Dra’Kaedan asked, “Ready to go?”

  “Yep,” Conley replied and then closed his eyes while Dra’Kaedan wove the spell which would take them to Court D’Vaire.

  When he opened them again, he was in a two-story room with a plethora of comfortable looking furniture and there were twenty-two pairs of eyes staring at him including a tiny dragon familiar perched on the shoulder of one of the two wizards, one of whom Drystan had told him only spent part of his time at Court D’Vaire and the rest at school.

  A man who was six feet six and had hair that was both black and blue, with eyes to match, dominated the group. The silver rings around his irises declared him to be the Fate-chosen king of Court D’Vaire. The golden one next to it was an anomaly no one could explain.

  “Reverent Knight Gylde, welcome to the Draconis Court of D’Vaire and Dra’Kaedan’s Coven,” the dragon leader said. “I’m Aleksander.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness,” Conley replied as he shook the exotic man’s hand.

  “Reverent Knight, no need to call me that. Aleksander works much better.”

  “I will if you will,” Conley invited.

  Aleksander smiled. “Anything you want, Conley.”

  “Stop flirting with my mate, dragon,” Drystan demanded.

  “Dude, he’s not even gay,” Dra’Kaedan argued.

  “Trystan, perhaps you’d like to introduce Conley to everyone?” Aleksander offered.

  Conley didn’t think Trystan looked too thrilled about his duty, but he did as he was asked. If Conley hadn’t been given a primer from Drystan, he doubted he would have been able to remember all the names tossed at him in such rapid succession.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Conley said. Trystan had moved so fast he didn’t have time to address everyone individually.

  “We’re so excited you guys are going to have your mating ceremony here,” Blodwen exclaimed.

  “Three weeks until cake,” Dra’Kaedan stated in a forlorn voice as Brogan rolled his eyes.

  “Did you put Conley in the room next to mine?” Drystan asked.

  “Of course,” Aleksander replied.

  “Great,” Drystan said and tugged a little on Conley’s hand. “We can go toss our stuff and then you can badger Gavrael and Gedeon for the chance to fight with them.”

  “We would be honored,” Gavrael responded while his mate, who was all but plastered to his back, nodded eagerly.

  “Awesome, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Conley offered to the pair as he began trailing after his own man.

  “We’ll meet you outside,” Gedeon said.

  Once Drystan and Conley were o
ut of the living room and heading down a giant hallway, he remarked, “This house is huge.”

  “Yeah, and it’s still mostly empty,” Drystan stated. “They are very cautious when considering applicants to their sanctuary.”

  “Smart,” Conley replied as they walked past what had to be bedrooms. Each door had a metal plaque on it decorated with the name or names of the people who slept inside. Drystan stopped at a door that had his name on it and opened it. Conley followed him inside so Drystan could deposit his duffel and admired the sleek black and silver decorations.

  “Your room is gorgeous,” Conley said once they were heading out.

  “I take no credit. Blodwen came up with the design and Larissa, their tailor, facilitated it.”

  At the next door in the hall there was another one of the metal signs, only this one had Conley’s name on it.

  “Don’t worry,” Drystan said pointing to it. “It’s removable and can be added to my door in three weeks.”

  “That’s a relief because I’m not sleeping in here alone when I can be tearing your clothes off,” Conley remarked.

  “That’s going to make it so much easier to sleep tonight with only a single wall separating us.”

  Conley grinned and went into the room to drop his bag. The furniture was a pretty honey wood and all the decorations were in white and cream. Once they were back in the hall with their hands intertwined Conley asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind me running straight outside to tangle with the sentinels?”

  “Not at all. Why would I?”

  “How should I know?” Conley asked as they approached the living room. “Just seems like the kind of thing you ask your mate.”

  Drystan dropped his hand to lift Conley’s chin up for a firm kiss. “Go have fun.”

  Conley pulled his hand back and gave Drystan’s ass a loud smack. “You too,” he said before jogging away so he couldn’t retaliate.

  * * *

  An hour later, Conley was lying on the chaise lounge on the deck and willing air back into his lungs. It might have been a bit ambitious to take on two sentinels at once, but the temptation had been too great to ignore. Besides, he hadn’t allowed them to use their glowing daggers, so he figured it was a reasonably fair fight. He’d been wrong. One sentinel was enough to keep him on his toes, two was begging for trouble. The good news was, he had been able to preserve his ass-kicking reputation; the bad news was, he might have to sleep for a week to recover.

  Turning his head to the side, he was deeply gratified to see both Gavrael and Gedeon sucking in oxygen. “You guys are crazy good,” Conley said once he regained the ability to speak.

  “You are very fast,” Gavrael stated.

  “I get that a lot.”

  “It’s something you should work on,” Gedeon suggested. “Every skill can only get better.”

  “I intend to. I don’t want any of my brethren catching up with me.”

  “Have you had the chance to practice with Benton or Baxter?” Gavrael asked.

  “I have not. I met Baxter the day I was resurrected, and I’ve seen them both from a distance during assembly sessions, but the Arch Lich appears to be avoiding Drystan,” Conley confided.

  “Strange, they’ve always been friends,” Gedeon said.

  “So, I’ve been told but have yet to see. Drystan has no idea what his problem is,” Conley confided.

  “Has he tried speaking with Baxter or Benton about it?” Gedeon asked.

  “Not sure, I’ll ask him later.”

  “How are you enjoying your role as Reverent Knight?” Gavrael asked.

  “Maybe it’s because I’m still new at it, but I fucking love everything about it.”

  “And your mate? What do you think of him?” Gedeon asked as he wrapped his arms around Gavrael from behind him and propped his chin on his shoulder.

  “He’s all right,” Conley replied with a grin.

  “Says the man with a mating ceremony in three weeks,” Gedeon retorted.

  “Speaking of mates; is it weird to be the only bonded couple in your entire race?” Conley asked. He didn’t think the sentinels really wanted him to spend the next several hours explaining how great he thought his man was, so a subject change was a necessity.

  “It is,” Gavrael said.

  “We thought when word got out, we would inspire other necromancers to summon their sentinels from the compound and then we would be one of many, but that hasn’t happened,” Gedeon revealed.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Conley asked.

  “What can we do?” Gavrael returned.

  “Your people need a spokesperson to champion for sentinel rights,” Conley said.

  “The Arch Lich tried to speak with his elder council about it, but they were apparently unmoved,” Gavrael stated.

  “Not that surprising. They’ve spent centuries painting you guys as evil incarnate with the ability to hurt or kill them if you should be allowed to wander the streets freely,” Conley replied. “What you need is someone who isn’t a necromancer trying to sway the Council to get more people interested in your plight.”

  “True, but Gavrael and I have no desire to get involved in politics,” Gedeon commented.

  “I was taught you have a leader.”

  “We do,” Gavrael said.

  “So why not have him leave your compound? He could petition the Council to become an official race with voting rights. It might take time to get the sentinels through the process, but then he could start courting the other leaders to introduce laws that would free all of you,” Conley suggested.

  “I’m not sure Alaric can leave the compound or even if he’d want to if he could,” Gedeon said.

  “Couldn’t hurt to discuss it with him, right?” Conley asked.

  “No, I do not see how it could,” Gavrael replied.

  “Even if he wants to, we still don’t know if he can,” Gedeon added.

  “I don’t see how the leader of the necromancers could be incapable of summoning any sentinel. He summons people from beyond death. Your Alaric has already been resurrected; he’s just stuck at the compound,” Conley said.

  “That is a good point,” Gavrael stated.

  “Maybe after your mating ceremony when things are calm again around here, we can talk to Alaric and then Chander,” Gedeon suggested.

  “Hey, you can tell me to butt out, but it’s what I would do,” Conley said. “I think sentinels could be a real asset—not only to the fallen knights but the Council at large.”

  “What role do you see us playing with the fallen knights?” Gavrael asked.

  “Besides the ability to knock the arrogance out of any of us with your fighting abilities?” Conley asked with a grin. “Drystan said you guys have better tracking skills than we do. That could be very helpful with difficult cases. It could mean the difference between a suspect getting caught and one getting away. We have a small number of crimes which go unsolved, but I’d like to see it at zero.”

  “I fear the lack of trust the public has about our kind might work as a deterrent to any help we could provide to anyone,” Gavrael remarked.

  “It’s impossible to change anyone’s perception without putting yourself out there and giving it a shot.” Conley hoped they decided to speak with their leader. The sentinels deserved better than living in a compound with no outside contact and no ability to meet their mates. Conley truly thought they could also be an important asset to the Order of the Fallen Knights and he made a promise to himself he would revisit this issue in a few weeks to see if he couldn’t persuade Gavrael and Gedeon further. No one deserved to be treated like second-class citizens, and it was a little surprising that the Council allowed the Order of Necromancia to continue to get away with their unfair treatment of the assassins who had no choice but to serve them.

  Chapter 37

  Drystan pressed his mouth to Conley’s and was a little shocked when the other fallen knight deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue between his lips. They were,
after all, in the kitchen with the entire D’Vaire clan waiting to fill their plates with the delicious food being spread across the buffet. Not that any sorcerer or shifter would find it odd to see them being affectionate; there was nothing more important than one’s mate and so they tended to be demonstrative, but this was the first time Conley had done anything beyond a peck unless they were alone.

  “Get a room, I’m starving,” Dra’Kaedan growled from behind them. “I knew we shouldn’t have let them get their dinner first.”

  “Would you please be nice?” Brogan pleaded.

  Conley pulled away and smiled at him. “He’s an irritating little shit, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” The entire room seemed to chorus the word.

  “Who you calling little?” the diminutive warlock demanded of Conley.

  “Is he serious right now?” Conley asked Drystan.

  “I should think so,” Drystan replied.

  Conley turned back to address Dra’Kaedan. “I’m way taller than you.”

  “Still short for a fallen knight,” Dra’Kaedan retorted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Not at all,” Conley argued. “The tall ones are just mutants.”

  Dra’Kaedan’s smile glowed. “Right? Tall people can fuck right off.”

  “Your man is like six foot five,” Conley stated.

  “And yet still not as deformed as Aleksander,” Dra’Kaedan said.

  “Tall is beautiful,” Drystan threw in.

  “Unless it’s Aleksander,” Dra’Kaedan insisted.

  Drystan began heaping mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I’m not getting in the middle of this weird-ass thing you have going with your king.”

  “It’s not Dra’Kaedan’s fault,” Aleksander said. “The same thing that prohibited him from growing stunted his mental capacity.”

  “Everyone here is weird,” Conley added conversationally as he followed Drystan to one of the round tables.

  “We like being weird,” Trystan retorted. Drystan raised an eyebrow at his son; he didn’t particularly care for the edge in his tone.

  “No, I get it,” Conley said. “I like weird too. Seriously, how else would I handle having Drystan as my mate if I didn’t?”