Page 111 of Commanding Flame and Shield
Marcus led me out the glass door onto the narrow balcony overlooking Chicago. The night was thick with winter chill, no stars visible beyond the glare of the city.
“I like you, Rookie.” Marcus shot me a sideways grin. “You’ve certainly proved yourself loyal these last few days. A word of advice?”
I wasn’t so sure I was going to like what he was about to say, but nodded, anyway.
“There’s no point in trying to control the path of a hurricane, is there? Resisting the strength of it will land you face down in the cold water of a surge. Move with it. Move with it until it allows you to become the eye in the center. Survival is in the silence. Not the roar of the wind.” Without further explanation, the Commander turned and went back into the loft. I blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear the warning from my thoughts. And yet. And yet something in my soul understood. So, I stared out at the gleaming city lights and began to pray.
Alvara had, unsurprisingly, been right. The gala played host to a cacophony of voices and pretentious hors d'oeuvres. They had, indeed, covered the chicken in a sauce that was trying too hard, and somehow still managed to be dry. The only perk, perhaps, was the way Alvara stayed glued to my side, breathing into my shield. Her eyes focused and unfocused, always probing the future to make sure she wasn’t missing something.
Jones had a small entourage with him. Guests made a special effort to come and shake his hand and introduce themselves. Begging for power, always at every corner, I supposed. And yet, Senator Jones’ dark blue eyes continually flicked past the groveling guests...to Alvara, regal and breathtaking in that gold gown at our table towards the back. After I’d seen him watch her a dozen different times, I snorted when I again found him staring.
“What?” Her voice was a smile. I looked back to see it across her face.
“You have an admirer.”
“Or he’s scented me, and knows what I am.”
I stared the male down again, and he held my gaze before flashing a cocky grin and glancing back to Alvara. My stomach roiled, and I shifted a bit closer to her. It didn’t necessarily seem like a threat, so much as a pure male challenge over a beautiful woman. Still, my very being seemed to clench.
“I’d bet money he just wants you.”
She raised her gaze to stare at the man we’d come here to learn about before rolling her eyes and saying, “Perhaps.”
“Doesn’t take a psychic to see that one.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Alec and Fae waltzed up to the table, drinks in hand, both a bit sweaty from their countless twirls on the dance floor. Recon, Alec called it, on the guests of course. I’d bitten back a laugh as he pulled his mate up and slid his hand down her backside before they moved into the dance.Yes. Recon. Very good.Alvara, at least, thought it was funny too. They each set their extra champagne flute in front of us.
“Either there aren’t very many of them tonight,” Fae whispered. “Or they are extraordinarily glamoured to the point where even I can’t scent them.”
“Have you counted how manygueststhere are?” Alec’s words were only for Ally. She rolled her eyes. “They are extraordinarily glamoured. About two dozen, if my estimate is correct. But I haven’t dared a full drop, either. August and you should take a stroll, get some air…and space to…think.” Alec gave her a wink that could have been encouraging or mischievous. I wasn’t sure which. “They don’t seem to intend any kind of conflict.”
Alvara's eyes flashed up towards Jones again. She didn’t seem entirely convinced. She surveyed the dance floor, rolled her eyes at the Westerlund twins who had both asked particularly pretty women to dance. With a great sigh, Ally was on her feet. I rose to my own.
“You’re all a bit pitiful at this, you know.”
“None of your projections included any results until fourth quarter anyways.”
Alvara narrowed her eyes, brows dipping in the center. “Yeah. You all still suck for that. I would’ve gone.”
“You were busy. And Sundays are for the boys.”
“Bullshit,” Fae coughed, pinching his bicep hard enough that he jumped, earning a round of laughs.
Ansel still owes me twenty for that game.Ally snipped down the line.
Clairvoyants don’t get to make bets. That’s just stupid,Ansel growled from the van.
“Besides,” Alec cut in. “There’s no rule that says we can’t enjoy ourselves, is there?” He grinned, backing away with Fae in-tow.
“I suppose not.” But her words were stilted. I grinned at her and stretched out a hand. She flashed one of those heart-melting smiles and swiped her silk gloves from the table between now-empty plates. Once they were both slid back into place, she accepted my hand, and followed me along the edge of the dance floor. The walls of the venue were draped in black fabric that seemed to gobble up the light. Purple tablecloths adorned each surface, save the banquet tables, which were white. Alvara, in her dazzling gold gown, was the only thing that seemed to catch the light as the fabric scraped against the ground. But she glimmered. It even seemed that she had thought to swipe sparkling cosmetics across her cheekbones.
If Alvara was usually breathtaking…tonight, she was resplendent beyond words. Tonight, my heart seemed to gallop any time she moved, my chest tightening each time she flicked those dazzling eyes my way. Her gaze trailed over face after face, and I felt her shields open just a crack. Just enough to start probing the minds around her. But her heart began to speed under the number of them, and I slid her fingers to my opposite hand. Freeing my closest to stroke her low back. Calm her. Anchor her. Her ribs expanded beneath my fingertips as she took a breath.
You’ve got this, Ally.
A subtle nod, her slender chin dipping down as her eyes focused obediently. She tightened her grip on my other hand. After a long moment, she closed her eyes and blew out a breath.
