are this level of Shapers also have individual skills that are created by their personality and can only be defined by that person.
The book continued to go on about specific exercises that could be done to create better control of one’s energy, and that was about the time that Mathieu dozed off.
It wasn’t until he felt warm arms pick him up bridal style and heard his book hit the floor that he woke back up. Cracking one eye open, he saw Solomon’s throat and scarred jaw. The blond laid him on the bed and covered him with the blanket before picking his book up and putting it on the desk. Then Solomon sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the room. As soon as the man had left, Mathieu felt Jo wiggle across the bed and curl back up around him. Letting a deep breath out, he closed his eyes and fell back asleep. It seemed that all his body wanted was to sleep; he sort of hoped that would help him figure out what he was going to do with his newfound leadership.
~*~
The smell of breakfast had his mouth watering before he was even fully awake. The air was filled with the delicious scent of cinnamon that accompanied homemade French toast. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and got to his feet, reaching down for the sweater on the floor. Pulling it on, he kicked Jo’s shoes out of the doorway and did the zombie-walk to the kitchen.
He hadn’t slept well last night after Solomon had put him into the bed, dreaming all night about a hallway full of doors that were locked, being chased by a steady pattern of footsteps. At the end of his dream, he’s found the end of the hallway only to fall into a pit of darkness. He’d spent a significant time falling before the smell of breakfast awoke him.
Erik was standing in the kitchen wearing jeans and a button-up flannel over a plain white shirt. His sleeves were rolled up and his day old stubble stood out against his pale skin. “Good morning, Mathieu.”
“Uh, hey. Erik, right?”
The dark-haired man nodded and smiled slightly, then put some French toast on a plate. “Here. Eat. There’s syrup and butter on the table, then you should go speak to Enak. He has things he wishes to discuss with you.”
Taking the plate, Mathieu prepared his French toast then, sat down at the little table in the corner of the kitchen. Turning his attention to the man in the kitchen, Mathieu took his first bite. “Do all gods know how to cook?”
“That’s an excellent question.”
Huffing, he rolled his eyes and focused on eating, not in the mood to deal with people being annoyingly obtuse with their responses.
“Can I ask you something, Mathieu?”
“Go for it.” He said in an almost sarcastic way.
Erik sat at the table with him, “You and Solomon…you are attracted to him. It’s dangerous.”
“That’s not a question.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Erik reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and drew out his pack of cigarettes, popping one out. Then, he took out a lighter with a tiger lily engraved on it, and lit the cigarette. The scent of apples filled the room. “The question is whether it’s serious.”
Wrinkling his nose, Mathieu raised an eyebrow. “What business is it of yours?”
Smiling a crooked smile, Erik blew a smoke ring across the room. “It’s important to understand the relationships between people. For instance, if you have a serious…thing with this man, then putting you two near each other during the siege of Unith would be a bad idea. You two would be more concerned with the welfare of each other than the success of the invasion. Make sense?”
“You don’t get to decide who I’m near during the siege, Red. I’m the new leader, apparently, therefore, I make those sorts of decisions.”
“Oh? And do you have experience with organizing large scale attacks with rebel military forces that I’m unaware of?”
Mathieu smiled sarcastically and leaned over, taking the cigarette out of Erik’s mouth, putting it out on the man’s stack of French toast. “Thanks for breakfast.” Irritated, he stood and left the kitchen, going to one of the sitting rooms.
Avanon, who was stretched out on the floor with a book, looked up as he entered. “Hey. How are you?”
“Ducky. Where do I find Solomon?” It had occurred to him while he slept that maybe if he tried to Solomon again, they could get somewhere. He truly doubted