Page 87 of The Missing Sentinel
It took effort, but Ducarius carefully tucked away his emotions to keep Drexley from feeling them. He had no choice. The lights of the gym flooded the room and illuminated the men skillfully wielding their weapons as they honed their abilities. A sense of peace flowed into Ducarius, and he grinned.
Although Ducarius found calm and strength from training, the serenity swamping his senses belonged to Drexley. The other sentinel was not being careful enough, and it would be his downfall. Ducarius slipped into the shadows to make himself invisible.
Dodging left to avoid being trampled by another Skeleton Lord, Ducarius teleported to stand behind Drexley. Ducarius had to move fast. Thankfully, his resurrection had come with many perks, including unparalleled alacrity.
In a flash, Ducarius rushed forward. But he was not quick enough. Not for another sentinel. His blades crashed into Drexley’s, and the lovely sound of Drexley’s laughter spilled out.
A few hundred years deprived of his weapons had done nothing to dull Drexley’s skill. But Ducarius was tired of fighting him. He released his hold on the hilts of his daggers and whispered a word to have them float at his sides. Opening his heart, Ducarius allowed his love for Drexley to warm them both.
Drexley was still grinning as Ducarius grabbed a fistful of his mate’s T-shirt and dragged him close for a kiss. Their mouths met, and Ducarius eagerly slipped his tongue through Drexley’s lips.
Unfortunately, the moment was far from romantic.
“Move the fuck out of the way,” someone shouted.
“This is a gym, not a fucking bedroom,” another disgruntled combatant yelled.
More curses and complaints were lobbed at them, but Ducarius didn’t care. He tugged Drexley into his arms and ignored all of them.
“I love you,” Ducarius told Drexley through their mindlink.
“I love you too, but we should probably move before someone stabs us.”
“Fine.”
Unhappy at any distance between himself and Drexley, Ducarius bussed his cheek and took his hand.
“Chand, tell them to move,” Baxter demanded.
“Stop bothering Chand; he’s trying to read,” Ducarius said. “And we’re already moving.”
“If I made out with Ben in the middle of a gym, you’d stab me,” Baxter argued. “Don’t even try to lie and say you wouldn’t.”
“I cannot lie, and I have had the unfortunate view of your tongue in Ben’s mouth for many years. Yet you never felt the cold bite of my blade.”
“Bax, if you keep it up, Duc probablyisgoing to stab you,” Benton remarked.
“Chand, tell Duc to stop making out in the gym,” Baxter demanded.
“Stop acting like children and work out your own fucking problems,” Chander said and promptly returned his attention to the thick book he’d brought with him.
Content to have a brief break from training and ignoring Baxter flipping him off, Ducarius sat on the floor and waited for Drexley to join him. The other sentinel grabbed the bag he’d brought with them and plucked two cookies from a plastic container. Ducarius accepted a treat from his mate and took an appreciative bite.
While Drexley was often found in a gym, he usually retreated into his latest read before Ducarius was ready to call it quits. Drexley was content to stay and squeeze in a few chapters until they returned to the Daray condo. It was a brilliant arrangement and did not interfere with either of their jobs.
In the few weeks since Drexley had taken up his position as liaison for the Sentinel Brotherhood, he had flourished. Drexley enjoyed politics, learning about the varied races of the Council, and working to improve the lives of everyone. With some guidance from Chander, the sentinels now belonged to many of the same prestigious committees as the Order of Necromancia.
It was important for the future of the sentinels, and the arrangement was forging a stronger bond between Drexley and Chander. So was their love of reading. Once Drexley had feared a future without a necromancer. But he had gained two already bonding swiftly to him.
Chander was family and an important friend Drexley could confide in or discuss similar interests with. And there was a second necromantic hybrid—this one with a druidic parent—who shared Drexley’s growing fascination with fashion. Evergreen, Victor, and Drexley loved clothes and had already taken several shopping trips together.
Ducarius no longer worried about Drexley going out by himself. The other sentinel kept his blades with him wherever he went. Thanks to his renewed interest in training, Drexley walked with new confidence.
Nothing pleased Ducarius more than watching Drexley stalk through the halls of Council Headquarters in his sharp suits with his daggers glowing at his sides. Drexley stood out, and it was beautiful. The past had not broken him.
Nor did Drexley dwell on it. He gathered up the scattered pieces of his memories and had resolved to remember Adney as a friend. One who had given him a love of reading. As for the rest of it, Drexley accepted that Adney had acted selfishly and cruelly. As had many other necromancers.
Ducarius understood Drexley’s desire to set it aside and move on. Sentinels had little choice. Otherwise, their futures would be marred by the mistakes of the past. And like Drexley, Ducarius refused to brood on years better forgotten. It was a relief to Ducarius that Drexley had not been stripped of his humanity. Adney had never ordered Drexley to hurt the innocent or take a single life.
