Eyes of the Alpha
Then I put down my coffee, picked up my bag, and took the elevator down to the lobby, where his driver was already waiting.
The car moved through morning Manhattan and I watched the city through the tinted window and thought about nothing in particular and everything at once. The fundraiser. Hale's eyes on me all evening. The particular quality of Kenny's satisfaction on the ride home. The way his power had moved through his hands when he touched me.
The corridor off the main hall.
A man with still eyes is saying you don't have to perform right now.
I pressed my fingers against the cool glass of the window.
Michael.
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