Rise of the Lich Sentinel

by Jessamyn Kingley

  Chapter 28

  Alaric walked into the hospital room, and his heart dropped to his knees. It was one thing to hear your mate was fighting for his life. It was quite another to see it. He looked so tiny in the bed, was all Alaric could think. He was hooked up to machines and needles were jammed in both arms. A tube was draining blood from his chest, and another was in his mouth to make sure he continued to breathe. His skin was an ashy gray and no one said a word as they stared at the small necromancer.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brogan pull Dra’Kaedan into a tight embrace. How he wished he could do the same to Chander. He took a few steps and was standing over the hospital bed where the man he was bound to by blood, but hardly knew, was lying. Alaric yanked a chair close to him and took a seat. He tentatively ran his fingers over the smooth skin on Chander’s forearm.

  “Go ahead,” a female voice invited. “Let him know you’re here. He can hear you too, so you be sure and talk to him.”

  “Thank you.” Alaric took Chander’s hand into his own. The woman, who was obviously a nurse, fiddled with one of the tubes coming out of him.

  “Sure thing, my name is Barbara. You just let me know if you need anything. I’m going to be taking care of your mate tonight.”

  “I appreciate your kindness.”

  “There’s a room attached to this one reserved for the patient’s mate. It’s got everything you need in there,” Barbara explained.

  “I believe the Grand Warlock and Duke D’Vairedraconis could use it. I won’t be leaving my mate’s side.”

  “It’s up to you,” she responded. “The couches along the walls pull out into twin beds as well. Blankets and pillows are in the closet.” Alaric looked around and realized his surroundings were plush considering they were in a hospital. But this was the building used by Council leaders, so he supposed he should have expected it to be fancy. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few. Push the blue button if you need anything before I get back.”

  Alaric thanked her again and she walked out.

  “Thank you, Dra’Kaedan, for all you have done,” Alaric said to a yawning Grand Warlock. He was pressed close to Brogan.

  “No need to thank me. He’s doing okay, I promise. His heart is mended.”

  “You’re welcome to use the room to sleep,” Alaric suggested.

  “I’m going to get some rest then,” Dra’Kaedan replied. Alaric knew he had used a ton of magic, which was tiring him. The warlock waved a hand around and set an almost translucent navy dragon above Chander’s bed. “This is monitoring his body. If anything changes, it will wake me.”

  Alaric shooed him and Brogan into the bedroom and gave his attention back to his mate. It was eerie to hear machines whirring knowing they were doing the business of caring for Chander.

  “He’s so gray looking,” Benton observed.

  “I don’t like it,” Alaric stated.

  “Me either.”

  “Don’t worry,” Baxter said. “He’ll wake up and yell at us for fussing over him.”

  “He’s just going to have to get used to fussing,” Benton countered. “We’re going to make sure this never fucking happens again.”

  Alaric ran his thumb back and forth over Chander’s hand as he nodded in agreement. A tear slipped out as he continued to watch his still mate. He heard Benton sniff and knew he wasn’t the only one fighting his emotions. He thought back on all the times he’d shared with Chander and wished his memories were greater in number. That they had more laughter, more time spent together, just…more. When Chander woke up, they were going to fix that. Alaric was going to be there to take care of his man. He wanted the opportunity to get to know him. To learn to love him.

  He intended to be there to make sure Chander ate, slept, and lowered his stress. No one was going to snatch him away again, not even Chander himself.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as he wept. He hoped the nurse was right and Chander could hear him as he made his promise. “Just try and get rid of me.”

  “We’re going to take better care of you,” Benton swore as he rubbed his hand over Chander’s forearm.

  “This isn’t your damn fault,” Alaric told him and Baxter. Both had misery in their eyes.

  “He’s going to be okay, right?” Baxter asked.

  “Yes,” Alaric vowed. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

  Benton nodded as he sniffed. “Damn right, we all will. Fate gave him three sentinels for a reason.”

  “Sentinels never fail,” Alaric declared. “And we sure as fuck aren’t going to let Fate take our necromancer.”

  “And if he wants us to quit hovering over him, then he is going to have to wake up and tell us,” Baxter said.

  “You hear that, Chander?” Alaric asked. “We’re going to be right here talking your ear off until you open your eyes and tell us to shut the fuck up.”

  Benton laughed through his tears. “He’s going to do that, you know. Open them right up when he’s ready and tell us all to get the fuck out of his face.”

  “I can’t wait.” Alaric lifted Chander’s hand to his mouth and kissed it.

  * * *

  The days bled into weeks and fourteen nights after Alaric had first arrived in the intensive care unit, he was still there waiting for Chander to open his eyes. They hadn’t all been good ones. Chander’s blood pressure soared from low to high and back to low again. He’d run fevers while Alaric’s blood had been transfused into his and they’d worried over all of it. The anomaly was ever present in his test results and thus far, no one knew how to explain it but they knew it was hurting him. So was the light magic holding his heart together. The dark power inside of Chander raged against it, and the doctors were becoming increasingly convinced the Arch Lich’s life would never be the same.

  Alaric’s anxiety had grown when they’d lowered the medications that were keeping Chander sedated and still he slept. The doctors told him not to worry; he would wake up when he was ready but Alaric’s apprehension was not so easy to placate. His time in the hospital had fallen into a strange routine while he waited for Chander to come around. He didn’t sleep much—the only rest he got was when he nodded off in the chair next to Chander’s bed. It didn’t matter; he would catch up when Chander was better.

  He was never hungry. The D’Vaires made sure everyone got three homecooked meals a day and since Dra’Kaedan was part of the vigil party, there was a monstrous amount of food brought. Gavrael and Gedeon went to the compound each day and collected the parchments which piled on Alaric’s desk from any problem or change that needed to be made. He sent the papers back to them with the food so the sentinels were still being taken care of—not that Alaric thought they were a priority right now.

  His main concern was still lying in a bed listening to Alaric chatting away at him all day and night. The Arch Lich’s sentinels spent their time with the television on and so Alaric added his commentary to the strange shows they preferred. Morbidly obese humans and hunting down old legends seemed to be the bulk of it. Alaric complained to Chander about the first and enthused about the second.

  Evergreen sent over magical messages each day keeping them abreast of things happening at the Order of Necromancia. The elders had tried to coax the Emperor to cede what was left of Chander’s power, which included the right to vote in the assembly hall, to them but Chrysander had put his foot down. The Order of Necromancia would abstain until either Chander could cast a ballot or Alaric was able to leave the hospital to do it in his stead. That had not gone down well, and Evergreen had taken great delight in describing the irritation the elders had shown. It had been one of the few times the group staying with Chander had laughed with genuine pleasure.

  The room attached was still being used by the Grand Warlock and his mate. Dra’Kaedan was determined he be available should Chander need him and since the doctors were still unsure of so much surrounding the Arch Lich’s condition, Alaric was grateful he remained so steadfast. He knew the Spectra Wizardry
was working around the clock to look into the anomaly they were now confident was somehow resulting in the issues with his heart and blood pressure, but he couldn’t understand why there was no headway.

  They’d been able to rule out any spell being cast on him—there was no evidence of it and none of the sorcerers could feel anything. Chander’s parentage was unknown, so they didn’t know if it had a genetic component; they’d even tried matching his DNA to their database of necromancers, but there was no match. The one thing they did know was, it reacted to Alaric’s blood. It had, as the doctors described it, excited after the transfusions. But they were quick to tell him it was in a good way, and Alaric wasn’t hurting Chander inadvertently.

  They knew it was a component only a dark sorcerer could tolerate. Prism Wizard Vadimas had introduced the Grand Warlock’s blood to it and the anomaly had attacked it. Just as the anomaly was damaging the warlock bandage that had saved his life. They were afraid to remove it as they had no idea if such a catastrophic event would repeat. Mystery swirled around the sleeping Arch Lich.

  Alaric’s emotions rode the same roller coaster as Chander’s blood pressure. He was happy Chander was alive but terrified he would become sicker. Chander wasn’t awake, so they didn’t know if all of this was causing him pain. Frustrated with having more questions than answers, Alaric had no outlet for the tempest inside him. All he could do was hold on to Chander’s hand and hope it was enough.

  “I feel like punching him,” Baxter announced.

  “Bax!” Benton exclaimed as Alaric lifted a brow at the annoyed sentinel.

  “Why won’t he open his eyes?”

  “Maybe he’s afraid you’ll sock him in the eye if he does,” Benton chastised.

  “He’ll wake up when he’s ready,” Alaric said. He wasn’t angry at Baxter; he knew how much Chander’s sentinels loved him and knew their worry was causing the aggressive words.

  “He’d be able to figure out all this shit the doctors can’t if he was awake.” Baxter crossed his arms over his chest.

  “He’s read millions of books. You’re probably right,” Benton agreed.

  Baxter’s eyes met Alaric’s. “He’s gonna wake up, right?”

  “Yes, you heard the doctors.” Alaric made sure he radiated confidence he didn’t always feel. “His body has been through an enormous ordeal. He needs time to recuperate.”

  “Figures the one time he’s actually sleeping, we want him to wake up.” Benton let out a forced laugh.

  “That probably factors in as well, all those centuries of staying up,” Alaric said.

  “How long did you take to feel rested after they removed the spell?” Baxter asked. Alaric wasn’t going to even get into that discussion. It had taken hardly any time at all, but that wasn’t what Chander’s sentinels needed to hear.

  “I didn’t have a massive heart attack, and I’m not a small necromancer.”

  Baxter grinned. “He’s going to smack you for calling him small.”

  “He can borrow Dra’Kaedan’s step stool if he’d like to try,” Alaric countered.

  “I heard that.” Dra’Kaedan gave him a dour look as Brogan hooted with laughter.

  “Of course you did,” Alaric responded. “You’re short, not deaf.”

  “When Chand wakes up I’m going to have him turn you into a toad.”

  Alaric nearly smiled. “I look forward to it.” The jovial mood fizzled in the room as they all looked to a still-sleeping Chander. It was apparent it took more than the will of five strong men to wake the Arch Lich when he finally decided to rest.

  Chapter 29

  Chander was swimming through an endless sea of dark waters anchored only by the touch of a hand and voices that called to him. He recognized them. Men he loved, people he called friends, and the one that resonated all the way to his soul—his mate. They kept him from going adrift as he struggled to get away from the pain which seemed to permeate his core. Lips caressed his fingers and when they left he wanted to scream. To bring them back so he could continue to feel the comfort of them.

  Then the stroke of a thumb whisked over his skin and he relaxed. Alaric wasn’t about to leave him. He thought about the man Fate had tied to him; it was an escape from the turbulence he was struggling against and wished he could see him. Chander was left with only truth, there was no place to pretend he did not want to be closer to Alaric. From the moment he’d first seen his face, he’d been taken aback by the glowing green eyes.

  Their brightness was surreal and he would give anything to be looking deep into them. That thought fluoresced inside him, and he thrashed against all that was keeping him stuck in his own body. He strained against the depths and he heard that voice—the one that kept him anchored—encourage him.

  “Chander, come on,” Alaric said from somewhere far away. “Open your eyes.”

  If only Alaric were closer, Chander thought as he fought to comply with his wishes.

  “That’s it, Chander, come on.”

  Chander managed to lift his lashes but quickly closed them again when an intense light bore into him.

  “Lower the lights, Bax,” Alaric ordered. “Chander, it’s not so bright anymore. Come on, you can do it.”

  His hand was squeezed and Chander’s forehead was caressed by those same lips that had blessed his skin before. Trusting Alaric, he tried again. This time he was greeted by the sight he had so missed while stuck inside himself. Radiant chartreuse orbs sat in a tired but smiling face.

  “Hey, handsome,” Alaric said.

  Chander tried to speak and discovered he could not. There was something in his mouth and he didn’t want it there. He made a great effort to move.

  “Relax, Chand,” Alaric ordered before he turned his head. “Go get the nurse.”

  Chander looked to his left and saw Baxter hurrying out of the room. Benton was standing against his bed with concern in his eyes.

  His sentinel grinned. “Hey, Chand.”

  “Is he awake?” he heard someone say. When Dra’Kaedan’s curly head came into view, he knew it had been his voice. “Hey, Chand.”

  “Well, look who’s finally decided to wake up,” a woman announced as she bustled into the room. “I know your mate has missed those pretty eyes. Now you just relax, we’re going to get that tube out of your throat.”

  She came up to his side and Alaric stepped back. Chander didn’t want to let his hand go and used what strength he had—which he found quickly wasn’t much—to tighten his grip on Alaric.

  “Oh honey, you don’t have to let go of your mate,” the woman said. “I’ll come around the other side.” Chander looked up at Alaric and he saw him wink before he stepped back to the bed.

  She got his attention again when she started peeling the tape off his face. It stung but he was glad to have it gone. “Okay, hon, just relax and take a deep breath.” Chander sucked in air and was disgusted by the feeling of the tube being pulled from his throat. He coughed as she yanked it out.

  “Isn’t that better?” she asked as she patted his shoulder.

  He tried to say yes, but the word wouldn’t come out.

  “We’ll just get you something so you can write down what you want to say,” she promised. “You’ve had that tube in for a while, and the doctor doesn’t want any more light magic used on you. It’s going to take your own magic a few hours to fix it.”

  Chander’s brain was fuzzy but he would really have liked to know how long “for a while” was. He started searching his memories. How the hell had he gotten to this room? He knew he was in a hospital, he could see the machines and the IV in his arm. Thinking back, he remembered being in a hallway. He’d been trying to avoid talking to Drystan when pain had ripped into his chest. It had been so strong it had nearly taken his breath, and then he’d known something was very wrong.

  “Honey, calm down, you’re raising your blood pressure. That’s it, just relax.”

  Chander concentrated on breathing and was glad his memories stopped after that. Whateve
r had happened, he would need someone to fill in the gaps.

  A doctor came into the room then. “Arch Lich, we’re so glad to have you back. I’m Dr. Tranelephas. Your mate has been waiting patiently for you to wake up.”

  “As have the rest of us,” Baxter added. Chander could hear the irritation in his voice and for some reason, it warmed him.

  “Nod if you’re in pain,” Dr. Tranelephas ordered. Chander was in pain but he wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to get knocked out again.

  “He’s in pain,” Benton stated.

  Damn those sentinels anyway, Chander thought in annoyance.

  The doctor patted his leg. “We’ll get you some medication. Now can you wiggle your toes for me?”

  Chander moved his toes and then squeezed the doctor’s hand after being instructed to do so.

  “Great, we’re going to send up a tray with broth and maybe some soft food,” Dr. Tranelephas said. “Your mate can help you eat it. After that, you need to get a good night’s rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Chander gave him an irritated look. Baxter laughed. “He sucks at taking orders, and he doesn’t sleep until he falls down.”

  “Well, he’s already lying down, and his body is going to force him to rest whether he likes it or not,” the doctor responded as he headed out of the room.

  Alaric sat down in the chair next to his bed and ran his hand over his forearm. “Stop looking so annoyed. He’s only worried about your health.”

  “He doesn’t want to hear that,” Benton countered. “He doesn’t give two shits about his health.”

  “He doesn’t have that luxury any longer,” Alaric stated.

  Chander wondered where the hell that nurse was with that notepad. He gave Alaric an exasperated glance. Alaric gave him a smile and brought his hand up for a kiss.