Page 42 of The Demon's Fire
“Stick with me. I’m bound to be an asshole eventually.”
ChapterEleven
Enteringthe foyer, Skyler pulled Kole to a halt. She stared wide-eyed through an arched entryway to the ballroom. She rose onto her toes to whisper in his ear. “It’s what my father described in his journal.” She gave up her coat to a male at the door.
“What did he say?”
“He said an Aeternal ball was a step back in time to an era when royalty danced until dawn while orchestras played Viennese waltzes. It’s breathtaking.”
Skyler peered into the ballroom where women in floor-length dresses of every hue whirled around in the arms of tuxedoed men who guided them with gloved hands on their backs.
“Do you waltz, Commander?”
“Only under pressure. My guardian Ranca tried to teach me. I often skipped the lessons to play soldier, attacking a straw man outside.”
Skyler gave him a quick smile before returning to admire the dancers.
“Some of what your father wrote is correct. The shindig in your honor is outdated. Perhaps when you live as long as we do, it’s difficult to part with the past. You try to hold on tighter to keep memories from slipping away. But never forget a savage is always a savage. Even when he’s wearing a tuxedo.”
“Don’t ruin this for me, Kole. Remember, I love history.” She patted his arm, still scanning the room.
“Especially djinn history. I’m a bit jealous of your interest in the breed.”
“I do have my favorites.”
One brow shot up. “Dare I ask?”
“Demons are complicated.”
“Hmm. Back to your fear, Chief. I have no intention of spoiling your evening. I want tonight to be special.”
Surprise. He sounds sincere.
Her blues locked onto his fire-gold eyes when he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow to lead her into the dining hall. In his dress uniform, he seemed different, no longer a brute.
Inside, gazes turned toward Skyler, who tipped her chin a little higher, her public persona sliding into place.
A woman in a lovely red strapless gown, her trim but muscular arms on display, hastened to them. “Chief Legal Officer Maxwell.”
Kole bent to whisper, “Supreme Lawgiver Fera, a shifter.”
Fera snagged Skyler’s other arm, dismissing Kole. “Thank you, Commander. Chief Maxwell will sit with us. I believe your table is over there with Commanders Nace and Jarek.”
Skyler’s gaze flipped to Kole. She fought to keep from showing him her weakness. She had never been comfortable in social situations. The larger they were, the more off-balance she felt. After all, the attendees might see beneath her cool exterior. Might see her imperfections.
She inhaled, releasing him to accompany Fera across the floor. Strange. Kole, the huge, brutish warrior, lent her his strength without crippling her, almost as if he saw beneath her mask but didn’t care. Glancing over her shoulder at the commander, she sighed. He nodded, his lopsided, knowing grin slow to curl his lips as the shifter escorted Skyler to a table in the front shared by lawgivers, justices, and directors of ministries.
****
Kolestrode to his table, joining the other two Scion Firebrand commanders.
Jarek sprawled in a too-small chair, tugging at the collar of his formal uniform. “This is a nightmare.”
Nace rested his chin on his fist, propped on an elbow. He looked as uncomfortable as Jarek.
Kole pulled out a seat. “I can think of a lot of places I’d rather be.”
“Yeah,” said Nace, “like in Angor being tortured, unarmed in the middle of a herd of questing beasts, or in the crapper.”
