The Guardian Demon [A Taron Egerton FanFiction]

8: A Misinterpreted Feeling

"Nice an easy, ladies," Taron whispered through his earpiece, holding his gun in front of him as he paced with slow, soundless steps through a dim, empty corridor, followed by four of his squad members.

As they reached the end of the corridor, Taron held a fist up as an indication for his comrades to halt their movement, swiftly maneuvering his body to take a sweeping look around him. Noticing the bright red 'EXIT' sign at the end of a narrower corridor to his left, he silently gestured to his teammates to move again toward their labeled destination.

"HQ, this is Archangel One, over," Taron spoke through his communication device, "we are about to..."

His words were sucked by a blinding explosion of white light and massive, earsplitting blasts of shooting.

Gasping, Taron sprang up to an awkward sitting position, looking around him in confusion as his heart drummed loudly in his ears. Apparently, he dozed off on the couch in the security room while waiting for the party to start, but yet again, the dark dreams never stopped conquering his mind.

"Are you okay?" a voice to his side pulled him back to reality, it was Harry, one of the security team members.

"Yeah," Taron instantly replied, clearing his throat, "yes, I'm okay."

"Alright, then, they're already here," Harry said, pointing a thumb toward the room's door.

"I'll be right with you," Taron said, standing up, "Michael?" he asked, indicating the other security member as he wiped a hand over his forehead.

"In position," Harry automatically replied.

"Alright, assume your position as well," Taron ordered, placing his earpiece in its place, "a communication test in twenty."

Nodding, Harry left the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Exhaling, Taron smoothed his jacket, secured his tie, ran his fingers through his hair, and left the room seconds after his teammate. Going into full on work mode helped him recover from the terror of the dreams he had, but it never worked on erasing them away off his memory, nothing ever could.

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'Rousing' was the least that could be said about Mallory's party, not only because she had invited half of the city's population over, but the amount of alcohol, drugs, and everything in-between was implausibly substantial. That was in addition to the numerous types of food and the loud music that blared out from every wall in the house, mixed with the guests robust laughs and voices.

Mallory was in her element that evening, not leaving Jenny's side while gliding smoothly among the guests, greeting this and complimenting that, throwing a smile or a hearty laughter here and there while sipping on a drink elegantly. Taron kept his eyes locked on her every move, he wasn't allowed to follow her around, that was against the rules, so he chose a corner closer to the entrance where he could have a full view of the show, with that, he can keep an eye on everything around him while the other two members were outside, securing the perimeters.