Page 6 of The Missing Sentinel
Together with two sentinels named Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire, Alaric had discovered them. But Alaric hadn’t stopped there. He’d given the five skeletons, and the mated D’Vaire sentinels, an unparalleled honor—he’d asked them to aid him as leader. Ducarius had become part of the Skeleton Seven and received the titleSkeleton Lord.
It remained one of the highlights of Ducarius’s life. But nothing compared to having a family, and the Darays were the best. At the head of the family was Alaric himself along with his formidable mate, Chander. Including the pets and goblins gifted to Alaric by Chander, there were now twenty-seven Darays, and it made for a crowded dinner table, but Ducarius loved it.
“What has Baxter done now?” Ducarius asked once he was settled in his chair and the food was being passed around. It had been prepared by their housekeeper and the most recently mated member of their family, Cinder Lord-mate Victor Antonov-Daray.
“What hasn’t he done,” Albrecht grumbled.
“I can’t repeat what he said unless you want to talk about dicks at the table,” Arvandus added.
Since the last thing Ducarius wanted to discuss was sex or anything else private concerning the relationships of his family, he frowned. He’d been educated thoroughly on what happened between two men since the entire Sentinel Brotherhood was gay, but Ducarius thought the entire thing sounded horrifying, and he didn’t want anyone touching him intimately. “I would prefer never to discuss the dicks of anyone here.”
“At least no one is spelling anything,” Vellerynd Daray muttered. As the youngest of their family, Vellerynd had come to them as a teenager, and they’d attempted to keep their conversations more innocent by spelling words. But it was foolish. Vellerynd could hear them and could easily understand the spelled words. It annoyed the now-adult elf whenever someone fell into spelling again. Which was probably why the Darays persisted. They were a mischievous bunch.
“Just eat your dinner and keep your dicks to yourselves,” Chander ordered.
“Do not pass me this bowl until you put some green beans on your plate,” Alaric demanded of his mate. Chander abhorred vegetables and avoided eating them at all costs.
Chander grinned in a way that made the hairs on the back of Ducarius’s neck lift. The demonic imp-necromancer was a formidable sorcerer, a natural leader, and, like every Daray, stayed true to himself. Ducarius was never sure why that made Chander so scary, but perhaps it was because of the immense power at his disposal. The Arch Lich pointed to his plate.
“I have green beans on my plate.”
From his vantage point, Ducarius couldn’t see his dish, but he didn’t need to worry. One of the two men who’d been at Chander’s side since he was sixteen leaned over and rolled his blue eyes.
“There are two fucking green beans on your plate, Chand,” Daemon Lord Benton Daray drawled.
His mate, Daemon Lord Baxter, shook his head. “Two? Why bother?”
“It’s progress,” Victor said. “He added them without needing to be told.”
“Yeah, but is he going to actually eat them?” Arvandus asked.
“Mind your own business,” Chander retorted.
“Which means he won’t,” Benton commented with another eyeroll.
“Like I said, worry about your own damn plate,” Chander ordered.
“I found a new comedy movie,” Victor announced. “I could make some popcorn and fun drinks if anyone wants to watch it with me.”
Nearly everyone at the table was interested in joining Victor and his mates, but Ducarius had other plans, so he kept quiet.
“Duc? Are you going to watch it with us?” Vellerynd eventually asked once everyone quieted again.
“No, I am scheduled to go to Europe tonight,” Ducarius revealed. The Council of Sorcery and Shifters had left Europe two centuries before, and another rival government had formed in its absence. The Consilium Veneficus was an open foe of the Council, and Ducarius never minded when duty called him to spy on the dangerous people.
Plus, there was a mystery left to the sentinels, and it too led to Europe. Despite the compound having been destroyed by Alaric and every sentinel’s memory restored, one of their people remained missing. Five centuries ago, a sentinel named Drexley had left the compound never to return. According to Chander, his necromancer was dead.
At that time, Chander hadn’t known he was a hybrid or that he had the power to tear apart the soulbinding between sentinels and necromancers, which he’d done decades ago after Alaric had destroyed the magical device pairing them. So, the magic of the compound should’ve dragged Drexley back and reassigned him.
But it had not, and Drexley was nowhere to be found.
Had Drexley died like Arvandus? If so, why had none of his remains been discovered? Why had no necromancer cometo Chander with any word on the man? Although the sentinels still disliked many asshole necromancers, the sentinels were no longer feared or reviled. So, why would anyone keep secrets about a lone sentinel? Alaric recalled Drexley leaving as a fully intact man, so he hadn’t been misused by necromancers, but no one knew what state he was in now. A skeleton would stick out though, and there was not even a hint of a rumor circling.
Drexley had left behind no whispered horror stories, as Albrecht had done by killing his necromancer. The woman had deserved her murder sentence, and Ducarius wished he’d known Albrecht in those days so he could’ve ended her life himself, but no tale was left behind by Drexley. Where was the man, and why hadn’t he sought the Lich Sentinel in the many years since the bonds between sentinels and necromancers were broken?
Ducarius was determined to discover the truth someday so he could ensure for himself that every sentinel had access to whatever they needed. The Lich Sentinel and the Skeleton Seven worked diligently to guarantee no sentinel lacked for anything. Ducarius would not give up until the mystery of Drexley was solved, so the minute he finished eating, he carried his plate to the dishwasher. The sooner he teleported to Europe, the quicker he could pursue the few clues they had.
Chapter 4
