Page 10 of Commanding Flame and Shield
I looked to Alvara, hesitant. And then saw them. Saw them everywhere. Tall and ghostly pale, they were weaving through the crowd towards us. Maybe a dozen of them. A giant of a man with a familiar face and hulking form was crossing the street now, cocky smirk twisting his lips. The cat that ate the canary. Was I the prize?
Aren, I remembered. The man who helped Layla. If he was amanat all. Upon further inspection, they were only men and women at first glance. Everything about them otherworldly. Alien. Something of legend.Vampires? No. Notdark.
Alvara’s expression softened, and she gave me a gentle nod of encouragement.
I reached for Aphaea’s outstretched hand and gave it a tentative shake. “August Porter, ma’am.”
She smiled, obviously meaning to reassure me. Instead of releasing me, she pulled me into her body, linking our arms, and intertwining our fingers, as though to take a stroll together. She was slightly chilled, as though the day had been one that began with frost on the grass. My heart sunk, confused, as she leaned her body into mine—as though we were the oldest and dearest of friends. As though I had forgotten her name.
Unwilling to drop Alvara’s focused gaze, I forced myself to look at Aren as he arrived, bearing a gold necklace with a large, pink, polished stone dangling from it—he gingerly placed it around Alvara’s neck, and she seemed to melt, closing her eyes, brow relaxing, and inhaling at his touch. My stomach clenched in a territorial frustration.
“They’re close, Al,” Aphaea said in a hushed tone, her voice still unbearably feminine despite its urgency. “It’s time to go.” She turned her doll like face to me, grimacing. “Sorry about this.”
The world abruptly fell out from under my feet, a swirl of color and a crescendo of manic noise, and then it all went black.
FIVE
SIRE
ALVARA
August slept soundly, his steady pulse and even breathing the only things keeping me from jabbing him in the ribs to startle him awake. I’d been just as motionless, sitting on the floor, with my back against the wall, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was something about him that was inexplicably captivating. My obsession not lessening now that he was safely in Grayshell—unable to shake the memory of the unabashed crawlers that had flooded into his building, hunting for him, surrounding us. They’d gotten too close, their darkness thick on his skin, even now. Inexplicably, they had managed to breach his office despite our presence there, perhaps already in waiting. They had gotten quite bold in Ivy Springs—we’d allowed them to go for too long, unresisted. That would inevitably change now that we knew of their numbers.
I bowed my head back to my knees, closing my eyes, still pleading with my heart to slow and steady. As I’d soaked up his energy, it quickly became apparent that August was much more than we’d known. His energy, even in sleep, was immense. The power came from him in waves, like heat off the desert, radiating from his core as his ascension unleashed all of that bottled up potential. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch him. Set my hand over his heart and listen to all that he was. All that he would be. But that kind of intrusion needed consent—his memories, and very depths of his mind was his for the keeping. This was no braid. No fragmented soul wound into a mortal. This was…more.
Could he be a full half-blood?
Anxiety gripped me, and yet, we had not failed. He was safe. But nothing in my body felt like we were victorious. The others were in the lounge, and gathered in the hall, celebrating another successful acquisition, and promise of a new ally. But my intuition told me the fight hadn’t even begun. As though a wall of a storm darkened on the horizon, and I was on alert, just waiting to be swallowed by rain, wind and sea.
Hey stranger, come eat. Drink something.I looked up and saw Aren, leaning against the door frame, playful smile on his lips. Even Aren couldn’t understand the sinking in my stomach. He too felt the intense energetic draw of the sleeping man, but none of the conflict I sensed in my core. This was a “W” in his column—and he even got to vanquish a few crawlers threatening his mark. So, it had been a “fun win” at that.
I’m fine.I insisted for the hundredth time.
Come on, Ally. He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need to wake up to your scrutiny. Give the man a moment to breathe when he wakes.
Alone. In a different dimension. I’m not sure if that’s better.
Al. It’s been days. His vitals are steady—he’s moving through ascension. Let him rest.
It wasn’t a request anymore—a command from our Commander. I sighed and acquiesced his request, rising from my perch and joining him in the hallway, where Lana was also waiting, some smutty romance novel wedged between her arm and chest, its spine cracked and worn from frequent use.
“I’ll take over as guard, Alvara. He won’t be alone when he wakes.”
I pressed my hand into the wall again, confirming that the vision had not moved. Not only would he not be alone—he wouldn’t be with Lana. Aren and I were both present when he would wake in most of the threads. I closed my eyes, and wound the visions up into a karmic ball, then pulled them out one at a time. There were very few visions of him waking without me here.
I sighed. No matter how many times I checked, it still felt wrong to walk from the room, but his consciousness was potentially days away still. And I needed my strength.
The lounge was my favorite part of Grayshell, next only to the safe harbor that was the nearly silent temple. Not illuminated in the blinding, omnipresent light, it was the only place my mind and eyes felt like they could actually relax. The windows were successfully blocked out, usually draped in dense red fabric curtains Fae had found in an Indian street market a literal lifetime ago. Pleasant grey paint coated the walls—the soft color of morning on an overcast day on the North Washington coast, and it felt as mellow as the mist that habitually hung in the air there. Fae’s collection of leafy-green, potted plants and trees only enhanced the effect.
In lieu of the white hardwood floors, Alec and I had painted ours black, and then gradually cloaked it in a myriad of eclectic rugs we had collected from our adventures in the world. The black, gold, and red Persians were my favorite, with their hand woven, intricate designs, and plush padding.
A towering dark wood bookshelf was built into the wall above, full to the brim of countless leather-bound volumes of history and healing. It encompassed a bouquet of my favorite scents—perpetually burning incense, musty parchment, leather, tea, and freshly brewed coffee. A few of our favorite indulgences from the human world.
While we didn’tneedfood, the way a human would daily, it was the fastest way to ensure our strength remained where we needed it, and there was always a lingering comfort in food and drink. Perhaps a long-engrained habit from before our ascensions. The opposite side of the room housed our kitchen, responsible for the perpetual smell of warm drinks. Black cabinets were mounted by stained butchers block counters that Aren and Ansel had painstakingly hand crafted themselves, rather than manipulating energy, which would have been a great deal less sloppy. Ansel insisted it would have been a great deal less satisfying as well, muttering something about working with his hands. A deep copper farmhouse sink had been added a few years back, and long matching pendants hung above the island, which we used more for strategizing than we did for family meals.
Fae and Alec were tangled together on a large, tufted leather sofa that faced the great hearth in the center of the room, fire blazing. They often wrapped so tightly around each other that it took a moment to discern which limbs belonged to which person. That afternoon, they were laying together, Alec braced against her weight, his hands holding the book she read to him mind to mind, indulging in some sort of literary escape.
But the story failed to hold his attention with his mate curved so tightly into his body, and Alec trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her shoulder. Fae playfully shrugged away from him, eyes on the words, but Alec didn’t relent, his need for her all but screaming down our mental connection. The duo had an intensely physical relationship, and while it was usually endearing, it could also be nauseatingly painful with the lack of privacy. Like right now, as he ran his teeth over her skin, arousal pressing into the soft curve of her ass.
