Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,62

bed, prodding Mathieu shoulder. “Up. Come on. Sun is up, so are we. You need to start your training today. I’ll whip you into shape, yet.” When he still didn’t get up, the blond man sighed and got off the bed, grabbed the edge firmly and pulled it hard, creating a crevice between the wall and the bed. A crevice that Mathieu fell into with a loud curse.

Solomon chuckled before he abandoned the room, leaving Mathieu to levee himself off the floor with a groan. Mumbling about blond jerks, Mathieu made his way into the surprisingly messy bathroom and ran fingers through his hair. The sun was blazing in, reflecting off the clouded glass in graceful arcs.

Huffing, he quickly brushed his hair with Solomon’s brush and splashed some water on his face. The cupboard with clothes was right behind him and he pulled it open, rummaging through the articles until he found something that would marginally fit. Ever so, the clothing draped off of him and made him look like a child playing dress-up. Blowing his bangs out of his face, he plucked at the shirt. Mathieu considered adjusting it with his energy, but he wasn’t sure if he even could; since Avian’s passing, he hadn’t tapped into it for fear or destroying the house again. He also wasn’t sure how much Solomon valued his clothing. Of course, after the way that Solomon had acted a few minutes ago, he didn’t particularly care how much the man liked his wardrobe.

Re-emerging with a now modified shirt that fit him much better, a few tears and a knot in the shirt later it fit quite nicely, he looked around the house. Through the walls, he spotted where everyone was congregated. He labored his way through the maze of glass walls and opening, weaving towards the others.

Nathan lifted his eyes in acknowledgement of Mathieu, motioning with his chin for the white-haired man to sit beside Kiev. “Good, let’s begin. Solomon, what’s the agenda for today?”

The blond was sitting beside his sister, looking out at the grounds. Solomon’s mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“Solomon.” Mina said, bumping him with her elbow.

The emerald green eyes of Solomon’s gaze snapped to Nathan, “Yes?”

“What is the schedule for today?” Nathan asked.

Solomon’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “We’re going to be punching small children, Nathan. What do you think?”

The red-head rolled his eyes, but nodded in seeming understanding. Mathieu thought the blond man was just being a douche. “I expect things to be taken care of in my absence. I’ll return before sun down.” Nathan said, standing.

Solomon stood and looked at Mathieu. “Time to go.” He said, folding his arms. The others of the room were moving, too, going about their own business.

“Ehhh.” Grudgingly, Mathieu snagged a piece of toast from what could only be the remains of breakfast, then stood and followed Solomon out onto the back lawn. “Need time to eat…”

“You should have gotten up with the rest of us when I told you to. Sit.” The blond was in a no-nonsense kind of mood. “Since our leader, Nathan, has so kindly decided to dump you on me, it has become my responsibility to turn you into a decent fighter. I warn you, I don’t tolerate failures or screw-ups. You will succeed and become a first rate soldier. Your progress is reflected on me.”

Mathieu gave him a flat look, not having sat. While the man was speaking, he munched on his toast. He wasn’t a fan of being talked down to and Solomon seemed to be in a condescending mood. “Excuse me, but I happen to make an excellent fighter.”

Solomon’s head tilted back, adam’s apple bobbing with his laughter. “I’ve seen your ‘skills’. They’re marginal and unrefined. You couldn’t beat a properly educated six year old, even if you wanted to. You run on sheer emotions and your control leaves much to be desired. Now,” he ignored the scowl on Mathieu’s face, “you’ll need to master a weapon. You can’t always rely on your uncontrollable energy. In fact I would prefer you didn’t use your gift at all.”

“Seriously, my energy isn’t uncontrollable.” Mathieu said, arms folding in a protective way over his chest.

“I don’t really care. You will learn to master a weapon.” Solomon said flatly.

Rolling his eyes, he wrinkled his nose at the blond. “And how do you plan to determine what kind of weapon I should use if I’m unwilling to try them?”

Solomon took a calming breath. “I’m not as stupid as you seem to