Page 5 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Help her,” I repeated, desperation in my voice. “Please, I love her.”
The woman nodded, glancing once more over her shoulder towards the man called Aren, before bringing her eyes back to me.
“Where are you?!” She repeated, voice anguished. “We cannot save you if we cannot find you. Where are you?!”
I stared back at those piercing green eyes, shivers running through my body as shock set in. I shook my head, scared this was a trick.
“Where are you?!?” She set her slender hands, calloused and speckled in thin, white scars, on my arms, and stared into my soul. “August?!?”
That clear, ethereal voice rang in my mind. My name reverberating around the inside of my skull in that bell-like tone that had ripped from her throat as the world fell away.
August?!?
The torment in her voice was enough to run goosebumps down my spine as my eyes flew open. I threw my body upright, dinner rising in my throat, as I turned to vomit onto the floor. Flipping over, eyes scouring the early morning blue of our room, I found Layla sprawled out on the side of the bed, her bare skin a warm caramel color, even in this early light. I pulled the stray curls off her cheeks, soaking in the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Another horrible, too-vivid dream. And as always, I was immensely inadequate.
Out of panic, I had led them right to her. Brought the monsters to our door. Too slow and too weak to save either of us. I ran my shaky hands down the length of her back, and she hummed appreciatively, stirring into my touch in her sleep. My fingers lingered on the spot of her spine where the monster’s blade would’ve pierced. Skin smooth as ever, I forced my own lungs to inhale before slipping from the bed. I cleaned my mess as quietly as possible and snuck, yet again, from the room.
By the time she rose, my skin stung with sweat. I couldn’t really get myself to look at her—that horrifying image still ingrained into my vision. With each breath, I forced another pushup, relishing in the shake of my arms and aching spasm in my core.You will be strong. You will be strong.
The mantra was one I had used through the years. Refusing any alternative. But it seemed my subconscious felt it was not enough. Not enough. That was the repeated warning these cursed visions brought. Never enough.
* * *
“August?”
I turned automatically to the sound of my name. It was Sam’s gruff, familiar voice that intruded on my reverie as I stared out at the city through the vast glass walls of the Goodfellow building. The city soaked in orange light, smoke and smog mixing into a soup that saturated our air. Summer struggles. Perhaps it would be better if I scooped Layla up and we left this mess. Escaped. While we could. But how could I explain spontaneously uprooting our entire life to her in a way that wouldn’t sound completely insane?
“August?” He said again. I couldn’t help the echo of my name in my mind, but it was the woman from the dream that I heard between my ears. The vision of her too-perfect face, those piercing eyes set above such defined cheekbones. Skin so pale it was nearly translucent over them. Sam snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, a mixture of irritation and amusement on my best friends’ faces as he demanded my presence.
“Sorry?”
The board room laughed in unison, some forced, and others sincere. I looked around the table, shaking my head. I forced a smile onto my face, clearing my throat and straightening my tie.
“Are we moving forward with the mid-west expansion?” My brother eyed me warily, a furrow between his dark brows. James was two years younger than me, and definitely not used to seeing me falter. His slick navy suit was fitted, shoes polished, and hair meticulously gelled into place, omitting one curl across his forehead. Prepared. Present. What his leader should be.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, my mind is stuck on other matters.”
“If you laid eyes on his fiancé, you wouldn’t wonder what those other matters were.” Sam winked, a cheeky grin on his face as he ran his hand through his short blonde hair. He smoothly began sliding his files into his briefcase. The men around the table chuckled and began following his lead to end the meeting. I forced myself to do the same.
“Oh, leave her out of it,” I grumbled, unable to completely wipe the smile out of my response. “I’ll review your projections, gentlemen, and give you a response by end of day.”
“I’ll see he sticks to that,” James mused, reaching across the table to shake hands with the CEO we’d spent the last few months negotiating with. I stood and did the same. Twice our age, Theodore Allen was a regal man with silver hair and skin showing his exhaustion. He looked less than amused at my hesitation. I sent all the positive energy I had towards him, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say the muscles in his jaw relaxed slightly before he turned his attention back to my brother.
James and the man exchanged formal pleasantries as the room emptied out before he walked him to the door, closing it gently behind him. Then he turned on his heel to face me, eyes skeptical.
“Bro. What the fuck was that?”
I shook my head, falling back into my seat and pinching the bridge of my nose. “Sorry, James, my head isn’t in the game today.”
“I see that,” Sam chuckled. He came around to lean against the table by my side. “Still not sleeping?”
“Not at all.”
“Tell Layla to give you a break already.” James laughed.
“It’s not her.” I shook my head.
