Page 58 of Ashes of Honor

That stupid little smirk had returned to his face. I scoffed, pressing my hands into the ground to summon the strength to stand on my own. “Their spaceismy space.”

“Understood.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him get far too comfortable in the metal chair behind Alexiares’s desk.

He shrugged, the tightness of his fucking t-shirt uncomfortably distracting. “Waiting for Alexiares.”

“And you have to do that here because …”

“Because it’s his office, and it’s where he told me to meet him when he gets back this afternoon.” Tomás was cocky, and I utterly despised the way I found his cheekiness endearing. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, you always have the option to leave.”

I dug my fingers into my sides as a way to hold back and cut him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Each muscle in my jaw pulled tight, straining to the point of rupture. “I’m not uncomfortable. I’m working. Some of us have jobs to do around here.”

“You make the statement as though we aren’t all required to serve The Compound in some capacity.”

“Yours is …” I asked, arching my embarrassingly over plucked brows. Complimentary to Reina’s anxiety and general boredom.

“Originally it was bionics. Engineering nanomechs—tiny machines that adapt and rebuild on the fly. Specialized in war tactics and adaptive weapons. Think the Shadowstep and Plasma blades. Nothing fancy.”

“I know what nanomechs are. You don’t have to explain it to me.” I did not understand nanomechs. Hadn’t even ever heard the word.

“No, you don’t.” His smirk turned into a cheshire grin.

“‘Yours is,’ is present tense.” I ignored his call out. “Let’s try that one more time.”

“I work for Alexiares.”

“Nowthatis something I couldn’t see coming. Sounds ominous. Wish I cared enough to ask for more detail.”

Tomás chuckled, the sound low and easy. I bit down the urge to join him. Then the air shifted, tension creeping back in.

“Your vision seemed intense,” Tomás said finally, his voice careful. Too careful for my taste. I was not a wounded doe.

“Just tired is all.”

“Looks it.”

I rolled my eyes and took a step back, hair falling in front of my face. “Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“Wait.” His fingers twitched, caught between impulse and restraint, as my hand dropped to Wrath resting against the desk. “I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant that you seem like you could use a break.”

“Breaks are time wasted. Amaia will be back soon and she’ll expect resolution.”

“Resolution to what?” Confusion contorted his defined features.

“If I have a vision that is a product of a problem, I present Amaia with options for resolution,” I snapped, tone tight with frustration. “She has enough on her plate as is. Going to her and asking her to interpret the shit inside my head so I can go back to try to make an accurate prediction of the future benefits no one. All it does is waste time.”

He stared at me. Face blank and void of all emotion with each slow blink in the absolute silence of the room.

“What?”

“Nothing. Your voice … It’s nice.” He leaned his head to the side, bemused. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak.”

“Because having you ask more questions wastes time,” I shot back with a hint of humor.

Give a man an inch, he’ll fucking propose. A bright smile shined back at me. “How can I help?”

“You don’t.”

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