Page 9 of Commanding Flame and Shield
August, listen to me. You’re not safe here. Please, just say my name. Say my name out loud. August—
My fists flattened against my ears, and the pressure in my head forced my eyes shut, trying to push the alien voice out of my mind. It seemed to work, because it was silent for a moment over the noise of the office. I took a steadying breath, fully acknowledging there was a high probability this was a damned psychotic break.
What was it called? Schizophrenia? That was it. Schizophrenia.
The vibration was picking up strength, buzzing through my bones. My eyes found my favorite picture of Layla and me in Hawaii—the glass rattling against the simple silver frame. My entire desk shook, and I looked to the glass wall of the office.
Now they were noticing. Nervous glances exchanged between co-workers as the building trembled, ceiling fan rocking from side to side, and cheap artwork rattling against the nails that held the frames. It was an earthquake. I had been sensing an earthquake. People do that, right?
August!!!Her voice was near a cry, desperate and high pitched. The lights flickered above me. Some acid trip fucking earthquake.Listen to me, dammit.Theywill feel this. They will come for you. I cannot protect you if I don’t know where you are. Please don’t run. Please.Alvara pleaded inside my mind. And for some reason, I wanted her. Here. Wanted to see her elegant face again. Wanted to trust her. Wanted her voice. Something buried deep inside of me was being called to the surface as she said my name. Like a childhood memory being ignited by the sound.
August!Fresh alarm was in her voice, and it sent a chill down my body.They’re here. August. Say my name. For the love of God, say my —
The tremor in the building ceased, just as suddenly as her voice vanished. The office took a collective breath, nervous laughter breaking out, and rushed footsteps thudding through the floorboards. Shadows darting back and forth by my window of a wall as they all relished in the excitement.
But I didn’t feel relief at the end of the shaking. My heart was still in my stomach. A sinking feeling creeping up my neck, leaving the hairs on end.
“That was crazy!”
“Earthquake?!?”
“I guess—not a very big one!”
The chatter morphed into one big collective voice as I forced air into my lungs. Again, and again.
I crawled to my desk to chug the glass of water there. Glass emptied, I pushed myself to my feet, and hurried to the window to survey the city below. And then…then everything in me bristled, and I turned towards the door, which had been cracked open. Like a blanket over a fire, it seemed the air was taken from my body. Icy chill wrapping its tendrils around my neck and arms. Although I could see nothing, I was not alone. And this didn’t feel like…Alvara. The damned siren scouring my mind.
This was different. This was suffocating emptiness. Crushing me. Deep, bone freezinglack. Head pounding, I tried to inhale. While the sun shone all around me, darkness seemed to be all there was. All there would ever be.
I slammed my fists to my temples again.
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
And then…I was on the street across from my building, cars racing by, horns blaring, the collective voices of thousands of rushing people, a sudden roar in my ears as my heartbeat assaulted them from the inside. My suit and dress shoes still adorned my sweat-slicked body.Better than barefoot.I blinked a few times, resolved to orient myself. And to do so quickly.
What in the fuck is going on?
Where could I go? Not home—not with that horrifying image of Layla suspended in my mind. Not back to the office—where that desperate darkness sucked the air from my lungs, a demonic vacuum, forcibly attached to my throat. I strained a shaky breath, attempting to clear the confusion.
Someone was screaming. In my mind, or in the world, I hadn’t a clue. The sinking feeling in my gut was deepening.
I couldn’t put together how I had gotten out of the vacuum. Out of the building. But there were the front doors. The bustling food vendors cooking their fare as though all was well in Ivy Springs. My eyes were inexplicably drawn to a slight woman in a blush dress, platinum hair so long it brushed the curve of her low back. Her eyes were closed, face and palms turned to the sky—like the sentinels in the dream. She was just as odd, just as striking as the woman in the vision…Alvara.
Alvara.
I jammed my eyes closed, willing my body to wake up. Barely more than a whisper, I demanded my lips breathe her name, “Alvara.”
And there, as though by magic, she stood when I opened my eyes. No longer clad in warrior’s shields, she wore a simple black t-shirt and dark faded denim jeans, with holes in their knees, combat boots laced tightly around her feet. She was standing by the woman in blush, who smiled coyly. In sharp contrast to Alvara’s serious gaze, which was now locked directly on me.
In an instant, she was across the street. I’d never seen her cross—a glitch in the dream. But she was directly in front of me, eyes scrupulous, the corner of her too-perfect, full lips quirked to one side, as those fierce emerald irises bored into mine. She was my height, frame long and lean. Alvara ran an exquisite hand over her brow, wiping small beads of sweat away from her glowing, fair skin.
“August,” she sighed aloud, “thank God.”
The woman in blush danced across the road, weaving through traffic like the cars were bodies in a ballroom. Effortless. Everything about her was effortless. She was just as beautiful as Alvara, just a few inches shorter, and fuller in shape.
More…graceful. Less warrior like.
She extended a delicate, pallid hand to me before saying, “Hello, August. We’ve been searching for you for a while. Thanks forfinallyanswering. I’m Aphaea. Friends call me Fae.”
