“Lich Sentinel, great to see you,” Conley greeted. “Let’s go into the conference room.”
Alaric followed the four men into the room and they all took seats.
“What can we do for you, Lich Sentinel?” Drystan asked.
“You’ve shot me with a tranquilizer. I think you can call me Alaric.”
Drystan grinned. “Are you here so I can shoot you again?”
“Not hardly,” Alaric responded. “I’m here to ask for your help. The Order of Necromancia is trying to block the sentinels’ petition to join the Council.”
“I saw that,” Conley said. “I was surprised the elders did that. I know Chander didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“No, he didn’t. He’s going to write up an argument disputing the elders’ claim that sentinels are like familiars, with the help of the Prism Wizard.”
“Good. That’s a ridiculous notion,” Drystan replied. “But because of your unsavory reputation, there are those who will jump at any reason to vote against you.”
“Which is why I’m here,” Alaric revealed. “The sentinels would love to have the backing of the Order of the Fallen Knights.”
“You have it,” Conley promised. “We can draft a letter this afternoon. Are the dragons on board?”
“They are,” Alaric confirmed. “As well as the Coven of Warlocks.”
“Good,” Drystan stated. “Your mate has shunned social events since he gave up his leadership of the Council, but he has the respect of everyone. It wouldn’t hurt for the two of you to start making the rounds and drum up the support of more races.”
“I will speak with Chander, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about attending social events.”
“I’m surprised there hasn’t been a ball to introduce you to the Council as the Arch Lich’s mate,” Conley said. “They had one for us.”
“That’s the first I have heard of a ball to celebrate my matebond.”
“Strange,” Drystan responded. “Perhaps the Emperor is waiting so he can introduce you as the Lich Sentinel instead of the Arch Lich-mate since your title isn’t officially recognized yet.”
“It’s strange to think of myself as the Arch Lich-mate. I have never really used my own title, let alone Chander’s.”
“Speaking of which, you aren’t leaving here until we get your photo,” Drystan insisted. “We need to issue your identification card. It will be programmed to allow you access to everything the Arch Lich owns, including the home you two share.”
Alaric wasn’t going to mention the fact that they didn’t share a home, so he simply nodded in agreement. It was rather embarrassing to admit Chander wasn’t even interested in trying to build the relationship that was supposedly the core of all Council life.
“Anything else we can do for you?” Drystan asked.
“No, and I appreciate all you’ve done thus far.”
“When you have time, I’d love to do a little hand-to-hand combat with you,” Conley said.
Alaric smiled. “Absolutely, I look forward to it.”
“No one has ever bested him,” Drystan stated as he got to his feet.
“Good for him,” Alaric responded. “I set up the training for an entire army of elite assassins and none of them are my equal.”
“This is going to be awesome,” Conley exclaimed.
“Shit yeah, I wanna be there,” Vann agreed.
“We’ll arrange it at a convenient time for all of us to be there,” Alaric promised before standing. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing you again.”
“Our pleasure, Alaric.”
After getting his photo taken and being handed a shiny new identification card, Alaric teleported to Chander’s condo and placed his phone on a bookcase littered with an assortment of tomes and a thick layer of dust. Chander really did need a housekeeper. With a last look at the giant skull-covered mystery box, Alaric headed back to the compound. He looked forward to returning to Chander’s life but hoped next time it was to further the sentinels’ cause instead of looking for ways to block a mean-spirited petition made by the necro elders.
Chapter 24
“Alaric, we’re so glad you’re here helping us with this.” Benton grimaced. They were interviewing candidates for the housekeeping position Chander had finally agreed to. The leader of the necromancers was locked in his office and wanted nothing to do with it, but at least they’d found another reason to drag Alaric from the compound. Benton and Baxter were determined to make sure Chander didn’t miss out on having a mate even if the biggest obstacle was his own piss-poor attitude toward the process.
“It’s been an interesting day,” Alaric said.
“That’s very diplomatic of you.” Baxter kissed Benton’s cheek.
Benton leaned close to his man. “Not all the candidates have been bad.”
“They haven’t been good either,” Baxter countered.
“How many are left?” Alaric asked.
“Just one,” Benton replied. “Hopefully he’s good, or we’re going to have to wait until we get more applications. Who knew this would be so hard?”
“You know what else is hard?” Baxter whispered through their mindlink.
“Shit, would you behave? That’s our leader sitting there.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I’ll take care of you later.”
“Not if I fuck you first.”
There was a knock at the door that Benton jumped up to answer. Any more of his conversation with Baxter, and he’d likely forget all about finding a housekeeper and drag his mate to any available surface.
“Can I help you?” Benton asked the short man at the door. He had soft blond curls and bright green eyes.
“Yes, my name is Victor Antonov,” he said. “I have an appointment for an interview.”
“Please come in. My name is Benton Daray,” he invited as he led Victor into the living room. He pointed to Alaric. “That is Lich Sentinel Arch Lich-mate, Alaric Daray, and the annoying blond is my mate, Baxter Daray.”
“It’s nice to meet all three of you,” Victor replied.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” Baxter requested as Benton resumed his place squished up against him.
Victor did as he was asked and then looked at them with a smile. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity today. I know I don’t have any genuine experience, but I’ve been cleaning my whole life.”
“It says you’re a shifter,” Alaric stated. “Do you mind me asking what kind?”
“Not at all, I’m a Russian Blue shifter.”
Benton had known he was a type of cat, but it was hard for even a sentinel to determine between the different breeds if they were in human form. “What about being a housekeeper interests you?”
“Everything. I have a big family and I’ve always been the one organizing and keeping the house tidy. It’s something I enjoy. I’ve always heard you should find a job doing something you love, and I’m fiercely dedicated to eradicating dust.”
“That’s good because we’re pretty sure it breeds around here,” Baxter responded. “This building does have a service to deliver groceries and other household goods, but it would be preferable if you had transportation.”
“I have a car,” Victor said. “And I know this building has a full-service kitchen, but I can cook as well.”
“Good, because it’s likely the only way we can entice the Arch Lich to eat regularly. Do you believe you’re a motivated worker? We envision this as a position where your schedule would be up to you to maintain. For the most part, we aren’t here during the week except in the evenings,” Benton explained. “This is a live-in job, but you can pick which two days you prefer to have off.”
“I am highly energetic and I’m not afraid of hard work. I was thinking Sunday and Monday could be my days off. I would be here on Saturday to help out with cooking, and I could do dinner in the evenings.”
“What do you see as the key tasks of being a housekeeper?�
� Baxter asked.
“Cleaning as designated. Laundry, mopping, dusting, scouring sinks, taking out the trash, and organizing anything that needs it,” Victor answered. “I’m always looking at ways to make things more efficient and easy to access.”
“You wouldn’t mind tackling the giant number of books in here?” Benton asked.
“Not a problem—I would just need some direction. Would you prefer them in alphabetical order, by subject, size, or whatever you feel is best?”
“We’ll discuss it with the Arch Lich. Do you feel you handle criticism well?” Alaric asked.
“I have eight brothers and sisters.” Victor grinned. “Trust me, I get criticized all the time. I use the information to improve my abilities.”
Benton was excited; it seemed like Victor could work out perfectly at their home.
“He’s great,” Baxter said. Benton agreed but didn’t want to get distracted speaking telepathically to Baxter, who could turn any random conversation into something related to sex. Then they’d never get a housekeeper.
“When would you be able to start?” Baxter asked.
“Since this would be my first job, I could start as soon as I can move in.”
“Do you have any questions for us?” Alaric asked.
“What would you consider the first priority for your new housekeeper?”
“The dust,” Benton answered. “Quickly followed by organizing all of the Arch Lich’s books. They are everywhere and they’re going to take over if we aren’t careful.”
“Is there anything special I need to be mindful of, working for Council leaders?”
“The Arch Lich and I are both private people,” Alaric said. “We’d prefer you didn’t speak with members of the press about things that take place in our home.”
“I can certainly understand that. Rest assured, I will be discreet.”
“Anything else?”
“No, those are all my questions.”
“Great, we are going to discuss our options this evening and can call you later if that’s all right?” Benton asked.
“Of course, that would be fine,” Victor assured him.
“I’m going to go get Chander. He should meet him before we hire him.”
“Good idea,” Baxter replied.
“If you’ll excuse me for one moment,” Benton said before heading to Chander’s office. He rapped on the door and opened it. “Hey.”
Chander’s bloodshot eyes met his. “What?”
“I know you’re busy, but I want you to meet the housekeeper we’re interviewing.”
“I told you I don’t want to bother with that.”
“Chand.” Benton took a step into the room and shut the door. “This is the guy we’re going to hire. You should say hello.”
“Okay.” Chander rose to his feet. Benton looked him over. Frizzy hair standing on end. Skull T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Pretty much the necro leader when he was at home.
Benton followed his necromancer back into the living room. He saw Chander extend his hand to Victor who rose to his feet.
“Afternoon, I’m Arch Lich Chander Daray.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arch Lich, my name is Victor Antonov.”
“And you’re sure you want to clean up my mess? My sentinels tell me I’m essentially Pig-Pen.”
“Arch Lich, I look forward to the challenge should you decide I’m right for the job,” the blond replied. Benton noted he was maybe an inch shorter than Chander. The little guy was going to need a tall ladder to reach the top shelves.
“Thank you for your time today,” Chander told him. “I’m sure Benton will get back to you shortly.”
They said good-bye to Victor and then Benton let out a very un-sentinel-like squeal. “He’s perfect.”
“Great, hire him,” Chander responded. “Can I go back to my books now?”
“No, you haven’t eaten dinner,” Baxter countered. “And we aren’t ordering pizza, so don’t even go there.”
“I was going to ask Alaric if he’d like to try some Chinese, but if you’re going to be an asshole about it, you don’t get any.”
“I would love to try Chinese food,” Alaric said.
Benton ran to the drawer where they kept a myriad of menus from local establishments and fished out one to hand to Alaric. He was excited; it had been Chander’s idea to extend his time with Alaric. Maybe getting the two of them together wouldn’t be nearly as hard as he thought. Easy or not, Benton was going to make sure he kept a close eye on it—he wanted them both happy and knew they would make an amazing couple.
* * *
Victor the cat shifter had been a part of their household for a week, and Chander wasn’t sure what to think about him. He was dedicated to his job and he could swear he heard the dust screaming in agony as he wiped it out of their home. The Russian Blue was also popular with the sentinels, including the one Chander was mated to. And Chander was honest enough with himself to know he was a bit jealous of the new addition. Cute, carefree, and always in snug pants, Victor was Chander’s opposite in every way. He envied his liveliness and energy. Alaric seemed to make excuses to visit the condo all the time, and since Chander still spent his time with his face buried in a spellbook, he certainly wasn’t there to visit him.
The most annoying part of the situation was that Chander was the one against creating a real relationship, so why did he care if Alaric enjoyed the view of some fit young shifter? It could be he was irked because the other sentinels made it clear they couldn’t even see beauty in anyone besides their mates. The only person who existed that they supposedly found attractive was the other half of their soul. Was that something sentinels really had, or were they overstating the case? Or were the two sentinel pairs more dedicated than normal to their mate? It was impossible to know the answers to those questions with such a small sampling. They assumed all sentinels were that way, but it might not be the case.
Chander wanted to smack himself in the head for even thinking about it. It didn’t matter; he had a mate who was bound to him by blood. But they weren’t compatible because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, let alone a man who led the race imprisoned by Chander’s people. As he waited for Baxter to slide his card into the lock of the condo, he wondered if Alaric would show up again. He seemed to pop in nearly every day.
Removing his crown, Chander pondered his own feelings as he heard his sentinels greet their peppy housekeeper. Then he walked into the living room and his stomach clenched.
“Where is my box?” Chander asked.
“Your box?” Benton asked.
Chander whipped around to face him as he tossed his crown onto the gleaming coffee table. “Yes, my box. Where the fuck is the giant box that was in here?”
“The one with the skulls all over it?” Victor asked.
“Yes,” Chander bit out. “Where is my box?” His chest was beginning to pound in that way that made him sick to his stomach.
“Benton said I could put some of your things in storage. I had the box taken downstairs to the basement,” Victor explained.
“No one is supposed to touch that box,” Chander argued.
“I’m sorry, no one told me.” Victor glanced toward the two sentinels.
“Chand, you don’t need the box in the living room,” Benton replied softly.
“Bullshit,” Chander snapped as he rubbed his hand over his tie. “I want the box back in here.”
“You need to give it to a museum,” Baxter said. “It’s a part of history.”
“It’s a part of my fucking history,” Chander retorted as his stomach churned and he began to feel a bit faint. They had no right to decide where Conley’s box should go. He needed it here, he needed that reminder of who he really was—the type of man who would purposefully separate mates.
“You need to let it go,” Benton countered.
Chander’s blood boiled, and the pain in his chest increased. “It’s my fucking box. I created it. I want it back here.”
>
“You should calm down,” Benton ordered. “Your pulse has picked up, and you’re almost panting. Are you okay?”
“Don’t fucking analyze me,” Chander barked as he fought back a dizzy spell. “I want that fucking box back here. Tonight.”
He watched Baxter turn to Benton and knew the two were probably talking about him through their mindlink, which pissed him off even more. Chander loved them and they were his only family, but he damn well needed that box no matter what they thought.
“Get the box,” he demanded and was surprised when his voice came out faint.
“You are pale and need to calm the hell down,” Benton insisted. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he managed though was still feeling faint. “I just want my box.”
“Okay, we’ll get the box back,” Baxter promised.
“I’m really very sorry, I didn’t know,” Victor said. Chander ignored him; the pain in his chest was crushing and he had black at the edges of his vision. Carefully he walked over and picked up his crown. Without a word, he headed for his room. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but it had been a few days since he’d slept well. Stripping off his cloak and suit, he all but fell into bed. He was asleep seconds later.
Chapter 25
“I think there’s something wrong with Chand,” Benton said as he dropped down onto the couch next to Baxter. Alaric sipped his beer and knew the other sentinel had reason to be concerned. In the last few days since they’d moved Conley’s box back to the Arch Lich’s preferred spot in the living room, Chander had been pale and sleeping constantly.
“You’re his sentinels. You should be able to sense any physical problems,” Alaric insisted.
“It’s hard with Chander. He’s a powerful sorcerer who takes shit care of himself,” Baxter explained. “Like all strong magickind, his body heals itself. As a necromancer, it’s dark mending. It causes him pain, which can be minimal if there is a big injury or nearly undetectable for something like Chand’s always bad eyesight.”
“Right,” Benton agreed. “He’s underweight, suffers from some malnutrition, and exhausts himself until he literally drops wherever he is sitting. Because he’s always suffering in some way, it’s hard to pick up nuances or changes in his body.”
Rise of the Lich Sentinel Page 17
