08-08-2018, 11:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-08-2018, 11:31 PM by Natalie Grey.
Edit Reason: It's late (early?) and I can't spell.
)
"I did," she agreed easily, understanding by the tone of his voice that their meanings differed, but choosing to ignore it. He'd offered the measure of himself with a brutality she mostly found distasteful, and she'd wade in those muddy waters only as long as was necessary to retrieve what she wanted. In this case a name, and an acknowledgement.
More words snapped at her retreating heels, but insults rarely stung below the surface. Though she had not felt its full scrutiny for a long time, Natalie had nonetheless lived her life beneath the media's lens. He would have to try harder than that to wound her, else discover a sharper weapon. "It's important to know all the players, Ryker." The snap of her words were thrown careless behind her, lure of their own. She did not turn back, and her attention shifted as a new problem presented itself.
Jay's face was grim, pulled together by shadows she was only just beginning to understand spoke of the power writhing beneath his skin. He complicated matters by approaching like she were in need of rescue, and swept Jensen into the bargain when he should have been leading the man to safer waters. Jay's gaze locked over her shoulder in utter misunderstanding of the one in need of protection. She had been the one to warn of enemies. She hadn't meant hers.
The choice to approach Ryker and not his companion had been a calculated one, in part because she stepped lightly around Jay's demons and the secrets they guarded, and in part because Ryker's proximity to Brandon had insisted either the greater threat, or the greater ally. Confrontation had not been among her intentions, but as consequences were wont to do they snared her when Ryker's companion approached like a shark guided by the scent of blood. The raise of his glass caught light from the chandeliers above.
Tension fizzed Natalie's skin. Whoever this man was, he could do nothing here, in the seat of Brandon's power, surrounded by the world's most elite channelers. But she had no way to remind Jay of that fact. The brand of the stranger's stare devoured all before feasting upon Jay, while base amusement rippled from Ryker in her peripheral. Memories that didn't quite sit right in her mind flashed a warning that felt misplaced. But really, she was unsure how Jay might react.
So she acted without thinking.
Her retreat had caught her at an awkward angle, and she twisted as though to better greet the newcomer, jarring the wound on her foot with casual purpose as she did so. The sharp intake of pain was not feigned, though the casual way her hand steadied her balance against Jay's arm was pure artifice. Not a touch of connection this time, but an assurance that they were now leaving. And maybe her grip pinched a little harder than it might for the sheer idiocy of his presence.
Cautiously, lest anyone think to call lie of the sudden weakness -- or perhaps in simple defiance of the accusation she had 'limped all the way over here', she brushed the beaded hem of her skirts briefly away from her foot. Neat bandages had tucked its sole, cushioning what had been a half-healed wound mere hours ago, hidden without ruining the clean lines of her heel. Her ill treatment had worried the injury; she'd felt it split earlier, and it burned now, but surprise netted her expression to witness the dark stains leaked into the pale fabric of the shoe.
Her gaze lifted to implore the pastor. "Mister James? Thank you for coming. You must be in sore demand, I realise, and I'm sorry to--" Natalie bit her lip as the pain crashed and ebbed. She insinuated the reason for his presence, but spoke no real lie. They had asked for his help. But not for Natalie. "May we go somewhere private? I do not wish for a similar spectacle."
Jensen had stepped into a battlefield. Unknowing and innocent. The plea in her gaze was honest. Not for her foot, but that he would agree to lead them away.
More words snapped at her retreating heels, but insults rarely stung below the surface. Though she had not felt its full scrutiny for a long time, Natalie had nonetheless lived her life beneath the media's lens. He would have to try harder than that to wound her, else discover a sharper weapon. "It's important to know all the players, Ryker." The snap of her words were thrown careless behind her, lure of their own. She did not turn back, and her attention shifted as a new problem presented itself.
Jay's face was grim, pulled together by shadows she was only just beginning to understand spoke of the power writhing beneath his skin. He complicated matters by approaching like she were in need of rescue, and swept Jensen into the bargain when he should have been leading the man to safer waters. Jay's gaze locked over her shoulder in utter misunderstanding of the one in need of protection. She had been the one to warn of enemies. She hadn't meant hers.
The choice to approach Ryker and not his companion had been a calculated one, in part because she stepped lightly around Jay's demons and the secrets they guarded, and in part because Ryker's proximity to Brandon had insisted either the greater threat, or the greater ally. Confrontation had not been among her intentions, but as consequences were wont to do they snared her when Ryker's companion approached like a shark guided by the scent of blood. The raise of his glass caught light from the chandeliers above.
Tension fizzed Natalie's skin. Whoever this man was, he could do nothing here, in the seat of Brandon's power, surrounded by the world's most elite channelers. But she had no way to remind Jay of that fact. The brand of the stranger's stare devoured all before feasting upon Jay, while base amusement rippled from Ryker in her peripheral. Memories that didn't quite sit right in her mind flashed a warning that felt misplaced. But really, she was unsure how Jay might react.
So she acted without thinking.
Her retreat had caught her at an awkward angle, and she twisted as though to better greet the newcomer, jarring the wound on her foot with casual purpose as she did so. The sharp intake of pain was not feigned, though the casual way her hand steadied her balance against Jay's arm was pure artifice. Not a touch of connection this time, but an assurance that they were now leaving. And maybe her grip pinched a little harder than it might for the sheer idiocy of his presence.
Cautiously, lest anyone think to call lie of the sudden weakness -- or perhaps in simple defiance of the accusation she had 'limped all the way over here', she brushed the beaded hem of her skirts briefly away from her foot. Neat bandages had tucked its sole, cushioning what had been a half-healed wound mere hours ago, hidden without ruining the clean lines of her heel. Her ill treatment had worried the injury; she'd felt it split earlier, and it burned now, but surprise netted her expression to witness the dark stains leaked into the pale fabric of the shoe.
Her gaze lifted to implore the pastor. "Mister James? Thank you for coming. You must be in sore demand, I realise, and I'm sorry to--" Natalie bit her lip as the pain crashed and ebbed. She insinuated the reason for his presence, but spoke no real lie. They had asked for his help. But not for Natalie. "May we go somewhere private? I do not wish for a similar spectacle."
Jensen had stepped into a battlefield. Unknowing and innocent. The plea in her gaze was honest. Not for her foot, but that he would agree to lead them away.