“You know, that’s a vitamin,” Blodwen told her tablemates.
“Bam!” Noirin exclaimed and high-fived Worth again.
Several numbers later, Worth and Noirin were still bamming, and their laughter along with the good humor flowing throughout the room warmed Renny.
“G-52.”
There was a minor commotion at one of the tables in the back, so Renny paused to figure out what the issue was. A moment later, Coven Lord Bridger D’Vaire rose and lifted a card. “Leopold has a bingo that needs to be verified.”
The shy warlock familiar was blushing profusely as one of the three small dragon familiars, Chance, flew over and snagged the card with his teeth. When he reached Renny, he released it. “Thanks, Chance,” Renny said, looking at the card and matching the numbers up. “This is verified. We have a bingo! Congratulations, Leopold.”
Leopold stood, and Bard Ashby D’Vaire raced to him with a blue-and-black gift bag containing a random assortment of goodies donated by everyone. There were cheers and boisterous claps as Leopold gratefully took his prize.
Once it quieted, Renny caught the eye of Rafe, and the High King’s smile was bright. His plan to give them special events they could all enjoy was working out wonderfully, and Bingo was only the beginning. “Next up, we’re going to do a special pattern we’re calling the ‘warlock’s hat.’ ” Renny held up an example of thirteen numbers marked at the bottom of the card to form a pointy shape. As he started calling out numbers again, Worth and Noirin were slapping hands, and there was an indisputable sense of revelry. For perhaps the millionth time, Renny was reminded how lucky he was to be a D’Vaire.
∞∞∞
When Dra’Kaedan glanced at Renny, his brows furrowed. Taking two swift steps, he lifted his arms and adjusted Renny’s crown. “You were crooked,” his warlock said.
“Thanks. Are you nervous?” Renny asked.
“Yes, but I’m excited too. I mean, who knew the Fae were real? But you know Brogan is going to throw a fit.”
“Or I might,” Grand Summoner-mate Somerly D’Vairedraconis interjected. “The Reverent Knights are worried about the way these two Fae speak of dark sorcerers.”
Since Somerly’s mate was a dark warlock, it made sense that he was uneasy with the two Fae they were meeting to assess if their sanctuary, Dra’Kaedan’s Coven, would be a good fit, but it was difficult to imagine him enraged. Somerly was easygoing and sweet, while Brogan and Dra’Kaedan were the fiery hotheads.
“We’ll figure out what the deal is,” Aleksander said, strolling up. His fingers were intertwined with Rafe’s, and their wolves flanked them. “It may just be that they’re unaccustomed to dark magic. From what Drystan and Conley told us, they appear to have lived on a different realm with only themselves instead of the diversity we’re fortunate enough to be surrounded with.”
The Grand Summoner joined the small group forming in the great room, and he wasn’t dressed in any of the finery his title afforded him. Slipping an arm around Somerly, he kissed his cheek. “I think we should stay home. If they’re uncomfortable with dark magic, my presence may be too much of a distraction. These people are alone here and have no clue how to return home or any memory of how they arrived. The important thing is to figure out how best we can help them.”
“It’s fine if you want to stay here,” Brogan stated, stomping to them with three sentinels. “But Gavrael, Gedeon, and Bridger are coming with us. I can’t have both High Kings, the Grand Warlock, and the Grand Warlock Familiar anywhere without protection.”
Dra’Kaedan rolled his eyes at his mate. “You realize we’re going to the Order of the Fallen Knights Headquarters, right?”
“Do you realize we’re going to meet two sorcerers whose magic we have no clue about?” Brogan asked.
“Let’s avoid a fight, guys,” Rafe remarked, his gruff voice soft. “Our Skeleton Lords and Bridger are free to join us. We value their ability to keep us safe and their company. Dre’Kariston, are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
“Yes,” Dre’Kariston responded. “If you decide you need us, we can teleport over.”
“Great, let’s go,” Aleksander said.
Renny let his lashes fall closed as Dra’Kaedan cast a teleportation circle that allowed their group of three dragons, a warlock and his familiar, and five sentinels—which included three on two legs and the wolves—to travel to Las Vegas. As planned, they arrived in the office of Reverent Knights Drystan and Conley Gylde-Kempe.
“Hey, guys,” Conley enthused. They hugged the two fallen knights who led their people and happened to be a part of the extended D’Vaire clan.
“Have you learned anything more about them since we spoke?” Brogan demanded.
“We’re figuring things out as we go. They’ve constructed a spell to help them understand our language, but there are some words they continue to use in Fae’is, so it’s complicated. They seem to be telling the truth or at least believe their story. Alaric’s in there with them now, and throughout everything he hasn’t detected a lie. It’s a complicated situation and honestly, I don’t know exactly how to proceed. They want help to return to their realm, but we didn’t know the Fae were real, let alone that they had a magical plane, so how the hell do we get them back?” Drystan asked.
“Magically, there’s no answer,” Renny supplied. “We can’t send them to a realm we have no concept of. We’re limited with realms.”
Skeleton Lord Gavrael D’Vaire nodded. “Consider the former sentinel realm. Every necromancer knew of it, but not one could travel there.”
“Even when former Arch Lich Sigimund Roth resurrected Lich Reaper Grymington, who is similar to sentinels, Grymmie could not teleport there,” Bridger added.
“Fallen knights are resurrected, and we couldn’t get there either,” Conley tacked on.
