Resenting the Hero Read Free Page B

Pair.
    But Black seemed fairly confident nothing was going to happen. He moved to the Shield on my right, and I smothered my disappointment. Two of my preferences were down.
    Another exclamation of delight. Damn it. I glanced down to the beginning of the line. Source Devereaux had made her match. And it wasn’t me.
    I took a deep breath. And then another. Stay calm, damn it.
    There had been no guarantee that Devereaux would Choose me. Absolutely none at all. To become upset that the results had not been what I hoped would be childish and unproductive.
    Bradford, Viola, stood before me. We looked at each other. Nothing happened. Big surprise.
    Sources Creol and Karish were left. Wonderful selection. I carefully clenched my teeth.
    I watched the two remaining Sources work their way down the line. I watched the Shields react to them, despite their best efforts to appear stoic. When Creol approached, one could perceive the slightest stiffening of neck and shoulders as the Shields did their best not to lower their gaze and avoid the Choice. When Creol left, one could detect the relaxing of the posture as the Shields breathed deeply in relief.
    Karish, on the other hand, brought quickened breath and brightened eyes. There was a subtle shifting of balance to the ball of the foot, as though each Shield were ready to leap into a run at the Source’s word. And when Karish moved on, the slight drooping of the shoulders screamed disappointment.
    And then he was before me. Creol. Staring down at me with horribly piercing, yellowish brown eyes. I steeled my spine and glared right back, daring him to Choose me. He was not going to know I was a quivering coward.
    And nothing happened. For an endless moment I waited, not even breathing. I still wasn’t sure how long it could take, and with the luck I had already experienced that night it seemed certain that Creol must Choose me. But time drained by, and there was no pull or shock or anything else I’d been told to expect, and Creol was already looking beyond me to his next victim. I figured he had to know what he was doing, he had done this so many times before.
    The sharp relief I felt at not being Chosen by that man was a nice, cool shock. It almost made up for the earlier disappointments. So Devereaux and Black and neither of the Bradfords had Chosen me. Neither had Creol. Life was wonderful.
    My brothers would never let me forget it, that I was left all alone and pathetic in the Circle. There were worse things.
    Karish stood before me. He had gone through half the line without Choosing. I wondered if he was getting worried. I wondered why I was even there. I looked up at him.
    Light slapped into my eyes, blinding me and setting my ears to ringing. It almost hurt. Lightning raced through my veins and burst through my skin, I could feel it. My lungs threatened to collapse in my chest. I couldn’t breathe, and I thought about panicking.
    Just as abruptly, the light vanished. I could see, I could hear, I could breathe, and I was standing on my own two feet. I looked up into gleaming dark eyes, and I thought about panicking.
    Karish. The Stallion of the Triple S. My Source. I was chained to a legend. An infamous legend. Stories of drunkenness, whoring, and general recklessness filled my head. Oh. My. God. I must have been evil in a former life.
    This was it. The person I would work with the rest of my life. Moving with him as we were transferred from post to post. Learning how he moved and felt and thought. Most importantly, learning how he channeled. Because from that instant on, my most important task was protecting this man while he worked, making sure the forces he manipulated while calming tsunami and cyclones and other natural events didn’t end up killing him.
    I would die with this man. He’d catch some sexual disease, or some enraged spouse would kill him, and the bond would drag me down with him. He was that sort, the sort that shone too bright and burned