“We have to make a splash,” Ollie pipes up grabbing my finger in front of Milo and giving them a squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s not as big of a deal as it feels like. They’ll ooh and ah over us for a few minutes, then everyone will hit the buffet.”
“There isn’t a buffet,” I deadpan.
“Okay, the bar, they’ll hit the bar,” Ollie amends. He releases my hand and stands up to straighten his shirt and brush imaginary lint from his pants. He’s not acting like it’s not a big deal. My palms feel sweaty, but I don’t want to wipe them on my dress. I look down, seeing my beautiful dress—if nothing else, at least I look the part.
The doors open as I look up, and I reach for Milo and Dante’s hands because they’re the closestto me,no longer caring if my hands are sweaty. The guys tighten their ranks around me so we’re all shoulder to shoulder—well, more like shoulder to biceps in my case. The room is quiet, and I can see several round tables filled with people staring in our direction from the opening. Instinctively I want to take a step back and fall behind theguys to do what I’ve always done, become invisible, but I fight the need to hide.
I keep my head high and my gaze forward, but I’m not really seeing anyone. Each table, each face, blends into the next as the guys take the first step forward, bringing us closer to the entrance.
More of the ballroom is revealed with each step. There are two bars on opposite ends of the room, one near a large open space with a gleaming wooden floor, and the other standing amid a sea of large, round tables. A single clap starts, and that’s all it takes for an uproarious greeting to roll through the room. I squeeze Milo and Dante’s hands following their lead, but more than ready to take a seat so I won’t feel so much like I’m on display.
“This is weird,” I say through a plastic smile without moving my lips.
“Almost there,” Dante mumbles, his lips on the top of my head. There’s any empty table near a set of doors. Couldn’t we have just come in there, instead of traipsing through the middle of the room? Ares pulls out a seat and Dante guides me to sit. Thankfully I’m off to the side and I don’t have to look over the entire crowd. Our table is smaller, and there’s only enough room for six people. I tuck myself into the chair and sit with my back ramrod straight, feeling everyone’s eyes still lingering on my skin. I should have picked a different dress. It exposes my entire back.
Rosa catches my attention from the table closest to us. She’s leaning on Mal’s shoulder with a wide smile reachingall the way upto her watery eyes. Her familiar face soothes me, helping me feel like I’m not soverylost. All the parents are sitting with her, taking up all ten seats. Only my mom is missing. I feel a pang of loss. I wish she was here.
Light conversations build as the clapping dies when we take our seats. “What now?” My handsare tangled together in my lap, wringing with nervous tension.
“For the most part we’re done.” Ares takes a seat across from me.
“What do you mean most part?” I eye him skeptically.
“Well, it would be in bad taste to run off now, we still need to eat, maybe dance a little. People will expect us to mingle.” The last part he adds with a little disdain.
I lean in close to the table, and in a hushed whisper ask, “Is anyone from Leon’s family here?”
Dante raises his head and gazes over the room. “I doubt it.”
“I invited everyone we met with in Idaho, but I never heardbackone way or another.” Ares picks up a fancy water goblet and takes a small sip. The cloak of shadowshe wears so easily slips into place around him.
Without thought I tug on the darkness that lingers inside me, wanting that same wall of protection around me.
Milo grabs my hand in my lap. I look up and see his lips pulled in a tight smile. “You’re pulling shadows,” he warns under his breath.
“So is Ares,” I counter like a child.
“Yes, but everyone knows that Ares is a shadow walker,” Dante grumbles. “Wedon’t need anyone knowing you havemore than one ability, so just make sure you stick to that one from now on.”
“No sparking up or going all tiger stripes. Don’t let my freak flag fly. Got it.”I reach for the glass in front of me and take a hasty sip, just for something to do.
“You’re not a freak… you’re just a little freaky. Which we all love, by the way.” Ollie tries to make a joke, but it falls flat. I groan and roll my eyes. “Seriously Laura, there is nothing wrong with you,” he amends.
“There isn’t,” Ares confirms. “Havingmore than one ability isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I wish there wasn’t a need to conceal your abilities, but until we find out the truth about your mom and Leon, I think it’s for the best.”
I nod, this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this, I know their reasoning, but knowing I’m the only Synergist that has absorbedmore than one of her pairs powers makes me feel a little like a freak.
A waitress approaches our table with a large, black tray held aloft in her hand, already stocked with small plates and a decanter of red liquid. I notice for the first time there’s a small silver rectangle engraved with my name in front of me.
She glances around the table and deposits a spikey green salad in front of each of us. She stands back after setting the pitcher down in the center of the table. A crisp black apron covers most of her white shirt and black pants, and she’s wearing a name tag that announces herasSherry. “Can I get you anything else?” No chatter, no niceties, just down to business.
I raise a finger in the air. “Can I have a cola?” I ask hesitantly, like she might say no.
“Of course, anything else, sirs?” Sherry looks over my guys.
“What’s in here?” Ollie picks up the pitcher and gives it a sniff.
“The house red sir. Would you care for something else?”
