Page 100 of Commanding Flame and Shield
Despite the warning in her vision, I could tell hearing the words aloud still turned Alvara’s stomach as much as it did mine. It was just a flicker of shadow in her eyes, before her mask was back in place.
“I’m bored of this,” Alec drawled. “Doom and gloom, my master will find you, yada-yada. Let’s skip past that bit. Give us something of use, or I’m inclined to tell her to be rid of you.”
“A name might be helpful,” Fae sauntered forward, hands dripping in dark, rancid blood. She had enjoyed her last kills, just like Ally—their revenge for mortal women who couldn’t defend themselves.
“We do not speak it,” he rasped.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll let Alvara do this her way.” Alec swaggered forward, kneeling by Alvara. They exchanged a cruel smirk. “She does love to put on a good show.” The monster’s black eyes filled with dread. Real and true terror, and then he was thrown back against the wall in a great, icy gust of wind. Alec took over the shield, and Alvara flicked her fingers open to reveal a dancing flame. She allowed it to lick forward with the snap of a whip, but it didn’t touch him. The monster cowered but didn’t yield.
She sighed. “I’m bored too. And I’m afraid we have plans after this, so let’s move along?” Alvara stared into those unyielding eyes, sighed once more, and strode forward. She pressed her bare hands to either side of his face. Her lids fluttered as she took in the information we needed, and when the visions stopped, she blinked one deliberate time.
“Since I know you won’t dare take a message to your leader, I’ll send one of my own.” The beast’s black eyes were surrounded in whites, his expression desperate. “Don’t worry though. Adrastos will meet you in Hell soon.” There was a flash of heightened fear at the sound of his master’s name, drawn unwillingly from his mind, and then, with an inhumanly quick twist of her hands, he was dead on the floor.
Once we’d cleared a block on foot, led by Marcus and his hulking brothers, they turned to face us. Alvara turned back to us as well, and it was Fae’s eyes she sought.
A soft smile played on her lips as she said, “We’re going to need an outfit change for the next part.”
We watched the new information solidify into light and color and structure in her mind. Her plan came together as she pulled on each thread. Marcus’ brows pulled together, lips in a tight line.
“We’re going after Lorenzo’s?” His question rumbled steady, but there was a lick of fear to his energy.
“Yes. We’reclearingout Lorenzo’s.”
“I didn’t intend to throw you directly into the hub, Ally. Aren would have my head on a pike.”
“Aren will have to dredge you up from the afterlife if you attempt to do this without me.” She meant it, and Damien scowled. “As far as retribution for taking me with you…He’d have to catch you first,” she winked, her mental shield snapping up fast as a whip. The hint of teasing was sincere in her voice now, all traces of acted swagger gone. Marcus narrowed his eyes, turning his face a degree away from her, his shield snapping up just as quickly. The brothers did the same.
“You know.” His voice was wry, mirth in his eyes.
“Yes. I do. And I have to say, it’s splendid you boys lasted so long.” She didn’t bother to hide the taunting tone, or sparkle in her gaze. A baby sister teasing her big brothers. Jason and Damien both narrowed their eyes. The former swore under his breath and let his gaze settle on his feet. The latter rubbed a scarred hand over his brow.
She knew their other form. I realized it at the same time Alec and Fae did. Alec started, eyes widening.
“Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Alec rose on his toes like a child. I smirked.
Alvara shared my reaction but reached a bare hand towards the Westerlunds. “There are two threads that will require your…furry friends to make an appearance. And three that don’t. If we can execute one of those three, then nobody else needs to be the wiser. But you need to see the triggers now, so you’re prepared…and I don’t die.”
Jason snapped his eyes up from the ground, shock slithering across his features as he soaked in her steady expression. She wasn’t exaggerating. The cost of not shifting could be her life. Marcus and Damien exchanged wary glances, and as one, reached forward to grab onto her arm so she could project the paths for them to examine.
As one, they nodded obediently when they released their hold on her. Marcus lifted his chin in defiance before he spoke.
“No harm will come to you, Alvara.”
THIRTY-NINE
LORENZO’S
ALVARA
The black lace dress hugged every curve of my body, a slit up the leg cutting clear up to my mid-thigh. I shifted my weight, testing the movements to make sure it allowed enough space. The boots were lined in fur, and the matching coat set on the bed would more than compensate for the winter chill. Marcus had insisted that Eloise, his mate, wouldn’t mind this one being sacrificed to our cause. A preliminary thank-you for not allowing him to fall on the field, as he would inevitably do in our absence. His intuition had told him as much, without being able to cast visions and pull them apart choice by choice. It’s why he’d needed our help. Why he hadn’t proceeded without us, patiently waiting to see what would bring our paths together.
Jaw flexing, Marcus shook his head, hesitation clinging to every ounce of his aura. “Aren would never forgive me if anything happened to you.” His bright eyes flicked from me to Alec, who rested his arms around Fae’s waist, and then to August. “A member of Grayshell would be bad enough. But risking half of his deadly seven…” Marcus shook his head, that muscle feathering again.
“Not to mention The Great Commander,” Jason interjected, knocking a shoulder into August.
“Marcus, we can do this—youcan do this—you have my word.” I’d played verbalJengafor the better half of an hour, but my words did nothing to ease the idea of taking four of Aren’s prized warriors right into the heart of an insidious nest. “Nine of ten threads end with everyone standing. If we abandon you, none of them do. But you know that.”
“Fuck,” he growled, pacing, his eyes flicking up to his brothers, seeking some sort of reassurance.
