Page 17 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Did you—I mean, have you—”
“No!” I blurted, shaking my head vehemently. “No, August. I do my best not to read someone unless they’ve invited me to do so. I mean—our kind. I do my best not to read our kind.”
He took a deep, steadying breath.
“So that’s what you meant. I have a choice in beingread. So, how does that work?”
I held out my hands, willing them to be steady despite my nerves. “It just takes a touch. The longer we touch, the more I can see.”
He confidently reached out towards me, and butterflies flipped in my stomach at the idea of readinghim, even as I slid my own hands back under the table.
“August,” I warned him. “I seeeverythingAugust. There are no hidden places—your darkest memories, your best, your pain, pleasure, intimate moments. Victories. They’re all there. I can’t pick and choose the first time I read someone. The reading kind of has a life of its own.”
He let out a sigh, and securely crossed his arms, surveying me with the caution that was more than deserved, and I swore he smirked when he noticed the flush in my cheeks. Naturally the attention made the heat in them intensify. Even my palms felt all cold and clammy, and I nervously wiped them on my jeans.
“And once I’ve read someone, those memories—they’re as much a part of me as they are of them. Which means I can share them with someone too.” I closed my eyes, dropping my mental blocks, and drifting through memories until I stumbled on Alec meeting Aphaea for the first time. I focused in on her energy to him—how alluring she was. Her long hair was brunette in that life, softly swirled into a pompadour bun. The enormous, floppy burgundy hat upon her head matched her elaborate dress, adorned in black lace and ribbons. The smell of roses was thick on the air as he held his hat to his chest, lowered into a polite bow and accepted her outstretched hand. The instant they touched, his shield dropped, and he wanted all of her. All her energy, all her baggage, all her strength. He sensed her power—her predatory grace hidden behind layers of silk and lace, and was drawn to it.
I opened my eyes, to find his, wide and fascinated, trained on me intently.
“Wild,” he breathed again. I laughed and gave him another nod. My head feeling absurdly awkward for being attached to my neck with all that bobbing.
“It’s more intense if I touch you to show you. You would nearly feel the air on Alec’s skin. But that requires also being read.”
“Damn,” the smile was there in his voice and eyes before it touched his handsome mouth. A slow laugh exchanged between us, and the air once again felt of static before a storm, charged in an intensity that made my head spin. I pulled a pair of gloves from my pockets and slid them onto my hands, smiling as his eyes studied the movement.
* * *
The familiar sound of knocking an arrow filled my muscles with anticipation, and I drew back, took my quick steadying breath, and released. August’s eyes were wide as I met my mark, and when the next arrow split the first, he laughed out loud.
“Damn! Can you teach me to do that?”
“I’m not sure you could handle it yet.” I winked back at him. “And you, my friend, will remember how to do this if you’ve done it in a past life, which I suspect you have.” I tapped my outstretched bow against his brawny chest.
“Oh, I bet I can handle more than you know. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
My mouth popped open, gaze flicking to said hands, which were beautifully tanned and outlined with bulging veins and tendons that made my mouth go dry. Was thatinsinuationin his tone? Couldn’t be, could it? Eyes narrowed, I lifted my chin and shot back, “Prove it.”
“Challenge accepted.” His voice stayed level, but I would have sworn pink crept up his neck, into his cheeks.
“I guess we’ll see what’s in there, Mr. Porter.” My fingers tapped the side of my head as I grinned.
We walked across the hall, tables pushed to the sides of the room, and a grand white abyss stretching down to our targets. They were lined up in front of the Grayshell crest on the wall—great fanned angel wings, with a sword in place of the spine—and I noticed him study it before turning his attention to the bows, quivers and countless arrows laid out on the table. August grabbed one up and I followed him back to the starting line. He stood for a moment, feet all wrong, and took his first shot. Lucky to have landed on the target, he winced and looked back to me.
“Awfully bold words for arookie.”
He shrugged playfully. “I’m more of a gun guy.”
“We’ll get to that later,” I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile and jerked my head over towards the display of supplies. “Come back to the table for a moment.”
He stood in front of the countless weapons splayed across the grand wood table and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m regretting skipping that station at camp.” He shot me a cheeky grin, and despite my better judgement, I returned it. Being with August was easy. Effortless. I didn’t bother to read the rooms, or any of the objects, because just being focused...being present with this soul was intoxicating. His energy was light, optimism radiated from his core, and there was a determination in his eyes and the set of his stubble shadowed jaw.
His tour had felt like talking to an old friend, and the onslaught of questions never felt tiring, as it had when I had helped others train their braids and recruits. It was fun to be in his presence—he felt young, and somehow un-jaded despite a soul pulsing with so much strength I knew he couldn’t be new.
His Earth life was a good one—raised in middle-class, blue-collar America, his parents were still happily married. He and James had a younger sister, called Freya, who had surprised their parents when the boys were eleven and twelve. Her arrival kept them together during a tumultuous patch, and as she grew, their love reconnected.
August was the first in his family line to earn a degree. He quickly moved up the ranks at his corporate job, until he walked away and started his own financial firm. While Aren would’ve been enthralled at the depth of details he shared about his work, finance had never been an arena I was particularly interested in, and therefore I had a very limited understanding. I preferred to use my visions to accurately stake my investments, then actually study what made them tick. Not necessarily moral to use my gifts to fund my adventures, but neither was the stock market.
