"No, wife. Jesus." He grinned at me. "In fact, Balidor wants us to wait on talking to Jon about any of this. I think he's hoping Jon might start to remember more on his own, now that his sight is starting to awaken. One of the qualities of the human masters is that they often remember their past lives. Anyway, telling him wouldn't really help him at all...and it could become a barrier to him remembering himself, if we load a bunch of expectations on top of what's already happening to him. Balidor thinks...and I agree...that it would be better if we let things unfold naturally. Wreg is helping him with that end."
"By molesting him every chance he gets?" I said, grimacing. "Only a seer would believe that..."
Revik shrugged, one-handed, but only smiled.
"Does Wreg know any of this?" I asked then.
Revik waved a hand vaguely. "I haven't said anything. I kind of doubt Balidor has, either. Wreg may have his own theories. I know he was the first to mention to the rest of us...before the lists, I mean...that Jon's light felt more like a seer's than a human's. He was pretty adamant about it, actually, for understandable reasons. Not that he's racist, exactly..."
At my disbelieving laugh, Revik gave me an apologetic look, flipping a hand sideways.
"...I mean, sure, he was politicized during the Rebellion years, so he's got racist tendencies, but probably fewer than I do..." At another snort from me, he added, maybe to head me off, "...Wreg lit up like a Christmas tree when this all started. I'm actually shocked more seers didn't notice. Dorje sure as hell did." Revik gave me a grim look. “Dorje's lucky, really, that Wreg's pretty old-school on the poaching issue. A lot of younger seers would have told Dorje to go to hell...or confronted Jon directly, or simply tried to seduce him when Dorje wasn't around. Or hell, put Dorje in the hospital..."
I nodded, biting down on another strawberry and leaning back in the leather booth.
Even so, my puzzlement worsened as I replayed Revik's words. I still couldn’t believe I hadn't noticed any of this, when clearly everyone else had.
Revik kissed my cheek. "I'm glad my attempt to reassure you worked."
"Is that what this was?" I said, giving him a sideways smile.
"Yes." He returned my smile, that predatory glint back in his eyes. "I don't want you preoccupied with Jon and Wreg when I drag you upstairs. I love Jon and all...but that's not the image I want in my wife's mind once I get her to open her light."
"You mean of Jon? Or of him and Wreg naked?"
"Either," he said, laughing. "Both. Aren't you going to flirt with me at all? Do I have to use my light to get you interested? Or are you still mad at me?”
I shrugged in mock innocence, but found myself watching his eyes anyway.
Whatever he was pretending about things being back to normal with him and his light, I wasn’t buying it. I still felt that tremor of fear in the background, perceptible if now slightly more vague. I felt that part of him that was vibrating at a different level, too, even though he kept trying to restrain it from my view. His irises glowed as I continued to examine his aleimi, until his eyes closed again, a pulse of pain leaving his light that made me flinch.
I grew conscious of the open construct around us, and the fact that we were extremely visible in it, given who we were.
At least our room had a private construct.
Providing they hadn't filled it with chickens and goats.
Revik laughed again. "They didn't. I checked."
I glanced at his plate. He hadn't eaten his usual three helpings. In fact, I was pretty sure he'd eaten even less than me, since I'd been picking at fruit and sausage after that first plate of pancakes, and I hadn't seen him doing the same.
"They still have room service," he told me. "I checked that, too."
I knocked into him with my shoulder. "You're not being very subtle, husband."
"Is that a requirement?" he said. "To be subtle?" He took hold of the hand I had lying on the table and placed it back in his lap. His light immediately flushed liquid heat over mine, stopping my breath even before I made sense of what he nudged me to massage. When I didn't pull away, emotions joined that heat he emitted, along with a desire that I felt down to the ends of my fingers. "I desperately want to fuck you," he murmured, sliding a hand between my legs. "How's that for subtle? If you don’t ask me soon, I’m going to turn into a tyrant again...and then you really will be angry at me..."
I laughed, but felt my skin warm anyway. “You’re threatening me with threatening me? When did you turn into such a bully?”
“When I lost my ability to pretend I can wait much longer,” he murmured.
“I offered to go up to the room,” I reminded him. “...Twice.”
He bent closer to kiss me on the mouth, leaning into me harder when I didn’t stop him.
I felt his light coiling around mine again, pulling on me, trying to open me as he wound it deeper into mine. The intensity of it overwhelmed me briefly, even as it struck me again that we were probably visible in the construct to at least a few of the others in the room. Even as I thought it, he kissed me again, groaning softly that time, his hand sliding further up my thigh, yanking me closer to him. I felt my light responding to his pulls already, sliding out of my grasp even as his fingers wrapped into mine, as he pressed my back into the leather of the booth.
He had me half-pinned there when the pain emanating from his light worsened, nearly making me lose touch with the room. When I opened my eyes next, his were glowing, and I realized he’d opened the front of my vest, even as the fingers of his other hand curled into my hair. His light tugged on me harder, and I found myself falling into him as his body softened over mine, growing heavier as he pressed against me.
Wreg's voice stopped both of us, right as Revik was about to kiss me again.
"Hey!" Wreg slammed a fist on the table, making his plate, silverware and coffee cup rattle, and nearly toppling his half-empty glass of juice where it balanced precariously next to his plate. "No hand-jobs at the table! We discussed this, Illustrious Sword!"
I flinched, flushing when I realized how far gone I’d gotten, even in those few seconds.
Glancing up, I saw Neela roll her eyes, right before she covered her face with one hand.
I laughed, unable to help myself.
"We aren't doing anything!" Revik yelled back good-naturedly. "Are you telling me I can't flirt with my wife? You overbearing, light-sniffing voyeur!"
"Flirt with her? Don't give me that steaming pile of dugra-te, you raging hormonal mutant! I saw you just now! I fucking saw it! You have, 'oh my gods, my wife is rubbing my dick' face. Hands on the table, both of you...” Despite the general laugh this provoked, Wreg’s eyes darkened slightly, right before he trained them directly on me. “...Or are we really going to have an orgy on our hands, Esteemed Bridge?"
I saw the bite of warning there, although it didn’t seem aimed at me.
Well, not precisely.
It occurred to me in the same set of seconds that he was nudging me towards Revik’s mind. Wreg wanted me to see something he could feel in Revik’s light, a less-obvious intention that I’d either missed or conveniently ignored when he started kissing me again. But I didn’t really think Revik would go so far as to try and push me into his bonding trip again. Not now. Not after I’d just offered a compromise, one even Revik seemed to be cool with––
Wreg cut into my thoughts, giving Revik a hard look.
Believe it, princess.
I looked at Revik again, frowning. When I glanced at Balidor, he raised an eyebrow at me, too, and I saw in his eyes that he agreed with Wreg’s assessment. I found myself wondering just how much of our earlier argument the two of them heard.
Quite enough of it, Esteemed Bridge, Balidor assured me with a wry smile. Even so, his eyes were sharp when he glanced at Revik. I think your husband has some self-control issues at the moment. Perhaps we need to have a bit of a talk with him? Walk him around the atrium a few times? Given your relative newness to the somewhat addictiv
e elements of group dynamics, it seems he might be applying more pressure than you realize...
Wreg, characteristically, was more blunt.
He’ll push you into it, if he can, the ex-rebel warned me. Not that I think he’s wholly rational right now, mind you. He may not have admitted to himself yet, what he’s doing...
I glanced at Balidor.
Again, he only seemed to exude agreement with Wreg.
It’s the reason he won’t go upstairs, Balidor added, softer.
“Hands on the table, princess,” Wreg advised aloud. I heard the seriousness under his tone, even though his voice turned joking once more. “...If you please.”
I raised both hands in mock surrender, leaning back in the booth.
Still, I couldn’t help feeling a kind of relief that they’d been paying attention.
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something was up with Revik right now. In fact, they seemed to understand whatever it was a lot better than I did, which for once didn’t annoy me.
Well, it didn’t annoy me very much.
I could also tell without looking that Revik had picked up some of the undercurrents of the discussion by now, too, meaning he knew I’d been talking to Balidor and Wreg. When Balidor next spoke, I realized I wasn’t the only one who noticed that, either.
“Well? Do we need to take you for a stroll, Illustrious Sword?” Balidor asked, exchanging another look with Wreg. “You seem a bit...agitated.”
“Agitated my ass,” Wreg snorted. “He’s lucky he has a tolerant wife.”
“True.” Balidor smiled shrewdly at me, his eyes holding a bit of a question. “Although perhaps he’s taking advantage of that fact a bit too much...?”
“I think we should hose off the insubordinate bastard,” Wreg said. “Remind him who’s in charge of this outfit. It’s not her fault he’s afraid of our Shadow...”
I winced at the obvious reference to Menlim, glancing up at Revik before I could stop myself. Revik was looking between the two of them, though. His expression didn’t move, but I saw more than a flicker of understanding in his colorless eyes.
“Maybe he needs more time with Yumi,” Balidor observed, still watching Revik. “A little one on one time...without the Esteemed Bridge.”
“Yumi?” Wreg said. “He needs time in the ring. Getting his ass kicked...by me.”
Jorag snorted a laugh, but I saw the puzzlement in his eyes as he looked between the three of us. He could clearly feel the undercurrent, too; he just couldn’t follow what it actually meant. Truthfully, I’m not sure I followed all of it, either. I knew Yumi worked with some of the seers on trauma issues, helping repair their aleimi and so on, but that was about all I picked up.
Revik rose to his feet, his eyes glowing for real now.
He moved fast enough that I looked up in alarm, rescuing my coffee and his as I watched his face in bewilderment, honestly not sure if he was joking or not at this point.
Before I could make a sound of protest, he’d climbed up on the leather booth seat next to me, closing his armored coat before he glared around at everyone sitting at our collection of shoved-together tables. Since most of the other seers hadn't really been paying attention to us before, I saw a number of them look up in confusion, even alarm, when they saw Revik standing there. Most fell silent in that same set of seconds, uncertainty in their eyes when they saw Revik's irises glowing.
Even I had to admit, with the shadows on his angular face below those gold-green eyes, he looked dangerous, if not outright deadly.
Of course, that look had a slightly different effect on me.
Even now, I felt a shiver in my aleimi as I watched his eyes scan our motley group. Brushing off my light’s reactions, I exchanged a look with Neela, copying her mannerisms by rolling my eyes, covering my face in mock shame.
Neela and Yumi laughed, but most of those around the table barely spared me a glance as they stared up at Revik's face, waiting for him to speak.
"Are you disrespecting me?" Revik said, glaring at Wreg. "Commander Thomas William Yarensi...?"
The table fell silent, right before Poresh let out a choking laugh.
“Thomas?” he burst out, giggling again.
Something about the laugh made everyone else smile, too, until all of us were hiding grins.
Wreg's jaw hardened. He gave a threatening scowl around the table, right before he glanced at Jorag, who raised an eyebrow at him in an amused question.
"William?" the muscular seer said. "Wreg is short for William? Really?"
Wreg glared up at Revik. "You egomaniacal asshole! You rotting sack of weasel shit...you fucking promised that would remain between us! What the hell is a drunken promise between friends worth these days?" He looked at me, but that time, when I saw his eyes, I could tell he wasn't really angry, even before he winked at me.
"...This is your fault, Esteemed Traitor!" he added, pointing at me.
Yumi burst out in another laugh.
"My fault?" I said, pointing to my own chest in disbelief. "How?"
"You know how!" he snapped. "...I guess it's true that no woman can withhold sensitive information, not under the onslaught of the Sword's sword!"
I burst out in an involuntary laugh. That time, a smile crept out on Balidor's face, too, and most of the other seers cracked up, even Loki, who was normally pretty stone-faced.
"Don't you dare insult my wife!" Revik snapped.
"I wasn't!" Wreg shot back. "I was insulting you, you half-witted, mate-subjugated and strategically-challenged blowhard!"
"Are you challenging me, you ink-soaked, brother-molesting alcoholic?" Revik demanded.
"Not right now, I'm not." Wreg held up his hands as if to shield his face, staring at Revik's crotch. "I may not be able to see it, but I know it's there. Put that thing away, before you have someone's eye out..."
That time, everyone at the table burst into laughter. Jorag and Yumi at the end of the extended table thumped on the surface of the same the way Wreg had done, causing more plates, glasses, silverware and cups to rattle, and sloshing coffee into saucers.
Revik looked down at me, his voice suddenly accusatory.
"Wife! Aren't you going to come up here to defend me?"
"Do I have to?" I said meekly, which brought another round of laughter.
"Yes!" Revik demanded, holding out a hand.
Getting reluctantly to my feet, I climbed up on the booth beside him, conscious suddenly of the fact that both of us were still wearing boots muddy with Argentinian soil as well as oil from the tarmac of the private airstrip and whatever else. I mouthed 'sorry' to Junte, the waitress I'd befriended, but she only laughed, waving me off as she watched from the wait station.
Revik stared out over the table, his eyes still glowing in the dim light by the lower end of the restaurant's dome-shaped ceiling. Because of the planter boxes filling the atrium, the Third Jewel was a lot darker than I remembered it, even though they'd lit the dining room the way they used to only for dinner. Standing with his legs slightly apart, Revik glared around at all of them, his face now holding the expression of a king surveying his subjects.
I knew it was all a joke, but a part of me couldn't help watching him along with the others, especially since he'd pulled a kind of 'ruler' cloak over his light. The teasing I could feel around his wearing of the mask in some ways didn't take away from what I felt behind it.
“Well?” Wreg said. “Are you still contemplating an orgy, brother? Or have you finally decided to stop taking your rampant paranoia out on your poor wife?”
Neela glanced at Wreg, her expression openly puzzled that time, right before she looked at me. Seeing the question in her eyes, I sent her a brief reassurance. Revik must have felt that, too, because he glanced at me and frowned, his expression darkening before he looked around the rest of the room.
When he spoke, he said the last thing I would have expected him to say.
"Pick up your plates!" he demanded.
&n
bsp; They all looked at one another in confusion, not moving.
"I said...pick up your goddamned plates!" he thundered, using his 'no bullshit' voice. Even I jumped a little, feeling as if I'd been smacked sharply on the ass. He'd put light into his voice, so it shook the threads of their aleimi like a solar wind.
That time, there was a scramble of clanking silverware, plates, coffee cups and glasses as everyone hastily did as he'd commanded. Within seconds, every seer at the table held their plates at chest height, looking up at him in confusion...or maybe for further instruction.
Without warning, Revik turned to me.
He bent smoothly and picked me up without a word, lifting me to his chest by sliding his arms behind my knees and around my shoulders. He did it so fast I didn't have time to do much more than let out a yelp of surprise and by then, he'd already stepped out on the table.
He began taking long, leaping strides between the remaining cutlery and platters to the empty spots left by the missing plates. Everyone laughed as soon as he stepped onto the first of the five tables, pulling their plates even further out of the way as we passed. I couldn't help noticing that Balidor, Wreg, Jorag and Neela had picked their plates up, too.
"Barbarian!" Wreg called out, as Revik jumped off the end of the table next to where Holo stood to give him room.
Holo laughed out loud, slapping Revik on the back as he passed.
"....At least stay away long enough to act civilized when you get back," Wreg added, raising his voice. "...We don't need any more of your debauchery here, thank you very much."
"I think that goes without saying, brother Wreg," Balidor said.
He was smiling that time, though, and I noticed the sharper look in his eyes had relaxed somewhat, despite the scrutiny he continued to aim at Revik’s back.
"Happy hunting, boss," Neela called out, laughing with Yumi.
Revik spared both of them a backwards glare, right before he headed for the restaurant's front door, still gripping me tightly in his arms.
8
PENTHOUSE
ONCE WE REACHED the main lobby, I writhed a bit in his arms, trying to get free, but he only tightened his hold. "You can put me down now," I informed him, looking up as I folded my arms across my chest. "...I think it's safe to assume no one will be following us after that little display."
Allie's War Season Three Page 95