9
Gia
I stand behind Amara and to the right as the Fae female walks to the podium.
Logan crosses to the other side to give her the stage.
She doesn’t acknowledge his introduction.
He stalks her as she takes her place behind the podium. There’s no mistaking the yearning in his gaze. Or the fact that she ignores him and surveys the audience instead.
Hmm. As Amara’s bodyguard, I’ve been talking to her day and night over the past week.
I’d been relieved briefly for a day to rest up before this event, which is when I’d headed out into the city last night. But during this time it’s become clear to me that Chief Logan has a sweet spot for Amara.
She may pretend not to reciprocate, but the sparks flying between the two indicate otherwise.
I take all this in as I scan over the assembled audience.
Arms behind my back, I stay in the background and behind Amara.
Legs slightly parted, I regulate my breathing, keep my muscles limber and ready to move.
Jessica is on the other side of the stage.
An itch crawls up the back of my neck, and I can’t quite shake it off. I want to run a finger around my collar but resist. Any movement will draw attention to me, and I don’t want that. I train my gaze over the faces on the front row in the audience. Then scan back, all the way back, taking in the upturned faces.
“Thank you for placing your trust in me.” Amara’s voice echoes around the arena. “
Logan steps forward and holds up a book.
Amara places her hand palm down on it. She still doesn’t look at Logan’s face.
“Repeat after me: I, Amara Lavelle, do solemnly swear to take over as the Leader of Moscow and to protect this city to the best of my ability.”
Amara repeats the words, her voice ringing out with complete honesty. Heat pools in my chest.
No one can doubt the veracity of this woman.
She completes the pledge.
Logan steps back from her, walking away off stage.
There is clapping from the audience.
Then one of the men jumps to his feet. Tall, well-built, he towers over the rest.
His long hair streams around his shoulders.
He’s wearing army fatigue pants and a simple black T-shirt, yet it’s clear that he is a leader. “The mer-shifters are pleased to lend our support behind you.”
He holds up a fisted arm.
Applause breaks out in the audience.
Eve rises to her feet on the other side of the crowd. “The dragons appreciate the sacrifice you’ve made to keep the peace between the species.” It had been one of their own kind who had killed Amara’s father, Igor, who had been hell-bent on destroying the dragons. “We couldn’t have chosen a better representative to take over.”
Others jump to their feet, clapping. The applause rises again.
The hair on the back of my neck hardens. I sense the air on stage thin; the very molecules seem to be electrified. Something is not right. My palms tingle, and I flex my legs.
Then all the breath seems to be sucked from the space.
I try to take in a breath, and my lungs burn. Amara coughs. The tension in the audience elevates. A portal forms next to her and a figure walks out of it, toward her.
That familiar scent of fresh rain flows over me. Even before I’ve registered the outline of the man who strides to Amara, I know who it is.
My throat closes, and adrenaline laces my blood.
He raises his arm, his finger pointed at her. The tips of his fingers glow. “The Fae cannot have you colluding with the other species.” His voice seems to project around the arena. “It simply weakens our position, the agenda we have in maintaining our position as the most powerful, most advanced species in the world. It’s why you have to die.”
Only when I feel the stage floor under my feet do I realize I am moving. I throw myself between Amara and the new arrival.
His face jerks to me.
Those blue eyes, so familiar and yet not, narrow on me. His features tighten. He doesn’t panic, doesn’t change his stance. He may as well be wearing a mask over his face for all the emotion he shows. He angles his body so the beam of light from his finger wavers.
A piercing pain grips my arm. It’s as if I’ve been pierced by a burning sword.
It’s so intense that my brain cells seem to fuse together. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerges.
"Gia!" Amara's scream echoes in my ears.
White and red flickers in front of my eyes. Then the wooden floor of the platform rises to meet me.
10
Dante
My heartbeat races, nearly exploding out of my rib cage. It can’t be her. Not the woman I met at the bar.
Her body topples over, and my insides twist.
Adrenaline laces my blood. Every part of me coils in tension, and then I drop into myself, all my molecules oozing into one long slush of energy as I teleport to her. I catch her before her body hits the floor, then straighten with her in my arms.
She’s still, so still. There’s blood streaming from her arm. The scent of burning flesh, her burning flesh, assails me. My gut heaves.
Gia, that's what Amara had called her. Now I know her name. But it's late, too late. I’d just hurt her, maybe killed her. No, no, this can’t be happening.
Emotions heat my blood, tumbling over each other. I pull them back, coil them into a ball of tight rage in the center of my gut. All my training, earned in those years of hard military service with the Fae Corps, kicks in. My vision narrows. My senses go into hyper alert.
There’s a movement at the core of my vision. Chief Logan darts in from the other side of the stage. He plants his body between me and Amara, then reaches behind and yanks out a modified gun at me.
I pause, all my muscles locked.
Amara steps up and around Logan. “Tell the Fae the time to fight is over. We need to put our differences aside and work with the other species for peace. That’s the only way to drive progress.”
“Brave words.” I tilt my head. “I doubt the Fae Elders will see eye to eye with it.”
The woman in my arms moans. My heart races, and I tighten my grip around my precious burden. I need to get her to safety.
The air in the space thins. All my blood rushes to my limbs.
I draw in the oxygen in the space. A portal appears, and I race toward it.
Amara takes a step forward. “Let her go.”
“No.” I reach the portal.
Logan moves with Amara and once more angles his body, so she’s half covered from my vision.
“Why are you taking her?” Her fingers tighten into fists. “She saved my life. Don’t hurt her.”
“You have my word.” I drop into myself, step into the portal, and transport out.
Even before the portal forms again, I am running.
Every part of my body is frozen with fear. I’ve never felt this paralyzed, yet I force myself to keep going, running across the floor to the bed in the center of the room in the safe house in the hills of Sochi.
I couldn’t think of where else to take her.
Not back to Singapore; the Elders would not understand. The Fae are not evil, but they are also not forgiving. They’d certainly not allow me to take care of a frail human. They are fiercely protective of their gene pools and look down on all other species as inferior. She won’t be safe there.