Page 85 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Far and few between, I suppose.”
“You could say that,” I conceded without further explanation. August was intuitive, and had been Earth bound more recently than I had. He would be well aware of the evils lurking there, snapping at the chance to enslave as many lives as they could.
We took a few paces to catch our breath, the sound of the breeze hissing through leaves, and the soft thud of our feet on the winding, iridescent cobblestone paths the only sounds. The silence of Grayshell had always been a blessing, only the distant mental chatter of souls thinking through their day pulling at the edge of my mind. It was easy to avoid opening my thoughts, even to them, with August at my side.
“Sentinels?” His half a question broke my reverie.
“Hmm?”
“You sent sentinels?”
“We have them everywhere.”
“Couldn’t you…you know…just read the situation?”
I giggled. “Like I said, Aren oversells my abilities. I can’t just…read any situation. The visions aren’t…summoned. They just hit. We don’t fully understand how it works to be honest—what triggers and what doesn’t. People I know…people I love—sometimes I can focus on them and the visions flood in. But full readings take contact.”
“What if you went? Instead of the sentinels?”
“To New York? Assuming there’s not a shield in his circle, I could read his current thoughts.”
“So…”
“Why do we send sentinels?” He huffed a laugh and shrugged those broad shoulders. I laughed too and added, “I can’t be everywhere, can I?”
“I’m actually relieved that you can acknowledge that.”
I rolled my eyes, but it didn’t stop the blood that rushed to my cheeks.
“What if…what if someone in the coven decided to go? To investigate? Would you see it then?”
“Aren and I have played with that a bit. Sometimes I can pick it up. But their resolve has to be concrete enough to trigger the threads. It can’t be a game. An actual plan, which is hard if you’re not actuallyplanningon doing what you’re deciding to do.”
“I’ve always enjoyed New York,” August flashed a mischievous smile, and his eyes sparked. My own narrowed in response, and I felt the amusement tug at my lips. “Lived there for a few years, back in college. Had a condo for a while before I moved everything west. I even remember my favorite pizza, in this tiny hole in the wall pizzeria tucked in a daylight basement office. It was barely big enough to fit the kitchen and a couple of tables.” August smiled with unabashed fondness as he said, “They drenched the slices in olive oil—each piece was too big to fit in your hand, so you had to fold it. The first time I took Freya, she tried to blot the oil off with a napkin, thinking it was grease from the cheese.” His handsome face glowed with the memory.
"She sounds adorable.”
His chuckle made my cheeks ache. "Oh, she's a pain in my ass. But yeah, she is."
"Aren't all sisters?”
“Touché."
“Dammit. Now I'm hungry.” My stomach growled, right on cue. Had I eaten in days? "You'll have to take me sometime.”
"Oh, we'll go...sooner than you think.” August winked, and I sighed, narrowing my eyes.
“Wouldn’t hurt to try,” I admitted. "Senator Martin Jones is our target.”
“Holy shit, really?” His eyes widened.
I laughed. “Yes. Do you know him?” A half a dozen images of galas and dinners flew through August’s mind, and he raised his brows as he nodded. He’d always seemed kind to August. But August knew it was the weight of his wallet, and not his merit as a man that had the politician’s interest. “Excellent,” I mused. “That will help. Plan it. Your trip to find out more about your old acquaintance. Where you’ll stay, how you could get a meeting with him, who will go with you. Plan it. In detail.”
He nodded and closed his eyes before my own fluttered shut. Flickers of light and city started tugging on my mind, and my breathing deepened. The images started small, and hazy around the edges, but gradually, as memories gave way to decisions, they solidified like watching water turn to ice.
A busy tarmac. A man called Jerald holding a sign with “Porter” written on it, followed by the slick shimmering black town car. Giorgio’s pizza, and God it was delicious.A snort of laughter escaped through me as I realized August was bringing me with him. Our usual cadre of me, Alec and Aphaea, all folding the oil-drenched slices into manageable pieces and laughing as we dove in, standing around a too-small bar style table shoved into a shadowed corner.Laughter filled that vision, and my chest warmed with the knowing that he would take the time to show me the things he loved.
Giorgio’s dissolved like sugar in water, and I was suddenly standing in a gold gown that shimmered and clung to each line of my body. What in the hell kind of push up bra did that to my breasts? The click-clack of high heels filled the room, echoing off the marble so polished it made it slick. The aroma of chicken, garlic, and sickly-sweet champagne was thick on the air. August was by my side, our group disbanding to conquer more ground. He gingerly placed a hand at the small of my back, and I clung to the clutch between my fingers to keep my arm away from his barely exposed wrist below the cuff of his suit.
