Bridge: Bridge & Sword: Apocalypse (Bridge & Sword Series Book 7)

by JC Andrijeski

  He trailed, his eyes shifting to the open doorway to his right.

  Jon’s gaze followed his, unthinking, as did every seer’s in the room.

  Once it had, Jon could only stare, bewildered.

  The room grew so silent, it felt like every seer in it was holding their breath.

  20

  CAPITULATION

  ALLIE STOOD THERE.

  Jon stared at her face, riveted to those pale green eyes shining between twin curtains of long, nearly-black hair.

  He was so focused on the lack of expression in her high-cheekboned face, it took him a few seconds more to realize the other seers had started shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Most looked away from where she remained by the door.

  Jon glanced down.

  Immediately, his face flushed with warmth.

  She was completely naked. She wasn’t even wearing socks.

  Revik glanced around sharply at the others, then back at the door.

  He regained his feet in an instant, crossing from the chair to the door in what seemed only two strides. He had his arms around her as soon as he reached her, shielding her both physically and with his light from the rest of the room.

  Jon felt a coil of pain off him, but also anger.

  The latter wasn’t aimed at her, though, not precisely.

  Jon didn’t fully understand it until a few seconds later, when he felt pain off a few of the other seers, especially Jorag, who Jon sat directly next to, Maygar, who sat four chairs over, and Garensche. All three of them were still glancing surreptitiously at the door.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jon muttered, without looking at any of them.

  He felt all three of the male seers start at his words.

  Maygar, he felt the strongest, of course.

  Jon almost got it now, too––the Allie thing with men, that is.

  He didn’t get it in the sense of feeling the same, but when Allie’s light grew visible in the room, he could see something there. Whatever it was, it was in her, separate from her nakedness and the fact that she had a figure a lot of them probably appreciated purely aesthetically.

  There was something about Allie’s light itself that drew them.

  It might have been what the Lao Hu did to train her while she’d been working for them, or maybe it predated that, too. Whatever it was, for the first time, Jon could feel it, and he could feel Jorag reacting to it next to him. He could feel Maygar reacting to it, too, and the invasiveness of the latter man’s reaction made Jon recoil in disgust, even knowing what a hypocrite it made him.

  Wreg told him Elaerian light was different somehow.

  Different from that of other seers, that is.

  Some seers––and even a lot of humans, apparently––were drawn to that light, almost like a drug. At the time, Wreg had been explaining to Jon about Ditrini’s fixation on Allie, as well as the problems Allie faced with stalkers and whatever else, the whole time she’d been growing up. At the time, it mostly just made Jon feel threatened and jealous.

  He’d been worried Wreg was trying to tell him something––about himself, that is.

  Jon smacked at Jorag’s light, giving him a warning look.

  He didn’t do it subtly enough. That, or perhaps he’d done it too late.

  Revik darted a murderous look over his shoulder, aiming it first at Jon before he glared at Jorag, Garensche and finally Maygar. Jon felt Jorag shrink from that stare, right before he jerked his dark blue eyes off Allie’s body. The tall seer’s pain didn’t lessen, and Jon felt himself shielding from it, disturbed in spite of himself.

  It affected him, though.

  That conversation with Wreg had fucked him up a hell of a lot more than he really wanted to think about, and not only because they’d been fighting. Jon’s light still could barely stand to be in the same room as Wreg, regardless of what he told himself, or what he might wish to be true. Being reminded of that now not only disturbed him because it was Allie––it forced him to admit the real reason he was so sensitive to this crap in the first place.

  It was yet another reason Jon had to get the hell out of here.

  He would never be able to live with himself if he succumbed to that pull. Never.

  Revik continued to stand in front of Allie, his arms around her bare back. Pain continued to emanate off his light, and off Jorag’s.

  Jon shifted slightly away from the latter on his chair, in spite of himself.

  “No,” Jon heard Revik murmur to her. “No, baby. No, I’m sorry.”

  Allie surprised all of them, stomping her foot.

  The sound made a lot of the seers jump.

  Jon jumped, too, startled enough that he looked at the door. He noticed a number of the other seers staring in that direction, as well, wide-eyed.

  Whatever was happening, it seemed to be happening primarily between Allie’s light and Revik’s, since Jon didn’t hear either of them speak for a few more minutes.

  Then, out of nowhere, Allie stomped her foot again.

  She did it harder and louder that time––hard enough to shake the floor, loud enough to make Jon flinch. Since that foyer area by the door had no padding, her feet hit with hollow thunks on the bare hardwood boards.

  Jon looked over, staring with the others.

  Then the light by the door changed.

  Something left Allie’s small-looking form, expanding out of her like a cloud, filling the room with gold and white light. Strangely lit, nearly physical-looking streamers seemed to come from the ceiling, reminding Jon in caught-breath bewilderment of what she’d done to him in that dressing room in the hotel in New York.

  She’d done… something to him that day. He still didn’t know what.

  Neither had Wreg. Revik hadn’t even known, not exactly.

  Remembering that now made the tightness in Jon’s chest worsen. He’d been yelling at her that day. He’d blamed her for Vash, blamed her for Cass and Baguen being missing, practically blamed her for the human-killing disease being unleashed in San Francisco in the first place.

  He’d blamed her for Cass.

  Jon felt that pain in his chest turn into a hard knot.

  He remembered how she’d been with him that day, how her eyes flinched at some of his words, how he’d almost enjoyed the flush that crawled up her cheeks when he hit close enough to the mark. He’d been angry––more at the world than at her––and he’d used her as his punching bag. He’d hurt her deliberately, then accused her of being a martyr when she tried to apologize.

  He stared up at those streaming gold lights, and felt tears catch him off-guard.

  That gold light pulled at his, reminded him…

  Gods. It felt like her.

  It felt even more like her than that golden ocean had, with Revik.

  The light sucked in his breath all over again when it came with a rush of unexpected warmth, an odd sort of cheerfulness he associated with her, too.

  Information came that time, confusing him until his mind started to adjust, to make sense of what he felt. It came in the form of an intricate puzzle, filled with tiny strands that led in thousands of different directions. It bewildered him, and not only him; he felt the seers around him reacting in various ways, sucking in startled breaths, tensing, breathing harder, their hearts pounding until Jon could almost hear them trying to understand.

  He felt love from Maygar, a dense grief that clutched at his heart, filling his light.

  Everything Jon felt tied him to every other seer in the room. The room filled with her, her thoughts, the very frequency at which her light vibrated. Then, somewhere in the midst of all that, in those dense pulses of light and mind, Jon saw something else.

  Pictures.

  As soon as he pulled even the tiniest of those threads that made up the rest of her, pictures filled Jon’s mind. They flashed into living color around him as if he’d put on a VR link that washed out the rest of the room.

  He saw Allie in those pictures. He saw her
as she had been, her eyes full of light, sharp with intelligence and understanding.

  He saw her with Revik.

  He saw her with all of them.

  In those pictures, Allie wore armor exactly like the armor worn by the seers sitting on the metal folding chairs. He saw Allie on the plane, Allie strapped in beside Revik in one of the back rows of seats. Allie standing with them on the docks in New York––

  “No,” Revik said, his voice harsher, almost hoarse.

  Jon jerked where he sat, startled by Revik’s audible voice.

  It reminded him where he was, why they were even in the room. Realizing suddenly what was happening, Jon swallowed, feeling faintly sick.

  Allie wanted to come with them.

  Allie wanted to go to New York with Revik and everyone else.

  Even as Jon thought it, Allie stomped her foot, glaring up at Revik, her green eyes sharper in the overhead lights. Those eyes still held that denser confusion on the surface, but somehow remained expressive beyond that, almost as if some part of her forced its way through to––

  “No.” Revik stared down at her, breathing harder.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “No, goddamn it!” he snapped, his face flushing. “No, Allie. No!”

  More images bombarded Jon’s mind; he winced, gasping.

  Raising his hands to his head, he gripped his own hair, tightly enough to feel it pull against his scalp. He heard seers around him gasp and shift in their chairs. He saw some of them raise their fingers and hands to their temples and chests.

  The images came faster, so vivid they almost hurt to look at.

  Allie on the plane, Allie in combat armor, Allie standing beside Revik on the roof helipad in New York––

  “No, goddamn it,” Revik snapped. “No!”

  The images stopped.

  Like a spigot turned off, the space behind Jon’s eyes simply grew black once more, empty. He stared around the room, panting, still seeing the gold streamers where they came down from some distant Barrier space, shimmering with her light.

  His throat tightened.

  Wiping his face, he realized tears were rolling down his cheeks, although he couldn’t have articulated most of what he felt––not the relief for feeling her there again, the pain of loss, pity for her and what she wanted from Revik and the rest of them, grief at what had been done to her, anger at Cass, no fury at Cass, a hatred Jon realized suddenly wasn’t only his, but got amplified by Revik’s, even before they were all connected.

  That electric charge continued to course through the room. It raised the hairs on his arms, sending a shock over his skin, but Jon just sat there, fighting to incorporate, even to understand everything he felt.

  When he glanced back towards the door, he saw that Allie had disentangled Revik’s hold on her. They stared at one another, facing off as if having some kind of argument that no one but the two of them could hear. Allie’s eyes glowed faintly in the dimmer light by the door, and Jon felt anger on her now, along with an intensity Jon felt as a complete lack of compromise.

  Her confusion wound into that, too, but that confusion felt dimmer now.

  Some part of her was here for this.

  Some part of her was aware enough to be here, if only for a short time.

  “Allie,” Revik said, once more startling Jon when he broke the silence. His voice came out subdued that time, careful to the point of subservience.

  He held up a hand, without taking his eyes off her face.

  “Honey… please. You can’t come. You can’t. You don’t understand.”

  She frowned, and Jon found himself thinking she’d answered him in his mind. His thought was confirmed when Revik shook his head, without lowering the peaceful and appeasing gesture of his hand.

  “No,” he said, adamant. “No. It’s not safe. Honey, please––”

  She must have cut him off, because his words trailed.

  “No!” he said a few seconds later. “I said no, goddamn it!”

  Jon glanced at the door, jumping when he saw Balidor in the corridor behind Allie, along with one of the female seers Jon didn’t personally know.

  Then his pain worsened. It keened upwards without warning, making him gasp.

  It took him another beat to realize he’d felt Wreg standing there.

  Rather than looking to confirm what he felt, Jon focused his attention on the Adhipan leader instead. Balidor gave Revik occasional glances, but his primary focus remained on Allie. The same appeared to be true of Wreg, when he slid into Jon’s view a few seconds later, although Jon didn’t stare at him to confirm that.

  The female seer had been the one watching Allie. Jon knew that somehow, felt it, even before the seer spoke.

  “Sir…” she stammered to Revik. “I’m so sorry, sir. I tried to stop her––”

  Revik gave her a silencing look, then turned his focus back to Allie, his hand still up in a gesture of submission.

  “Allie… baby. You need to listen to me.”

  Her jade-colored eyes narrowed more.

  She turned her head, staring at the three seers watching from a few paces away. It occurred to Jon that at least part of the electricity he felt in the air had to do with the telekinesis. For the first time, it really hit him, what everyone had been telling him. The structures Allie used for telekinesis were completely intact––undamaged by the wires.

  For the first time, it really sank in what that meant.

  When he put it together with what they’d just done, creating that web of connection between him, Allie, Revik and Maygar, his nerves worsened.

  All connections went two ways. Revik taught him that.

  They’d wanted Allie more connected to her body; that meant her telekinetic structures were more connected to her body, too. They’d wanted her mind down here more connected to her structures up there; that meant Allie might have access to her knowledge of how to use those structures––along with possibly Revik’s and now Maygar’s, as well.

  They might have inadvertently made her telekinetically active again.

  Meaning, in a way she could actually use it.

  Seeing the look on Revik’s face, and his submissive posture, Jon realized the same thing must have occurred to him.

  He glanced at Balidor and Wreg. Noting their hesitation, the grim looks on their faces, Jon realized they were afraid of her. They looked at her the way people looked at Revik when his emotions exploded out of control––or when he was Syrimne.

  Jon saw Wreg reach for something hidden under his coat. He did it subtly, barely seeming to move his hands. He shifted his body sideways to reveal whatever hung there, maybe so his hands could find it without him making a sound.

  Allie had her back to him. Her eyes focused solely on Revik now.

  Jon scarcely glimpsed the handle of the rifle before Wreg pulled it silently and seamlessly up from where it lay hidden behind dark folds of cloth. Jon recognized the muzzle as belonging to the same style of tranquilizer rifle they’d used on Revik a few weeks earlier.

  Wreg did the whole thing as silently as a ghost. Jon could barely track the movement with his eyes and light.

  Even so, Allie felt it. She turned her head, sharp.

  Before Jon could react, light pulsed out, leaving hers in a hot, white flash behind the Barrier. The intensity made Jon flinch, even as he half-rose to his feet, terrified, scared out of his mind, although he didn’t think about why until it was over.

  Allie didn’t hurt Wreg, though.

  In that bare half-second, Wreg simply no longer held the rifle.

  Something ripped the gun right out of his muscular hands, hands that Jon happened to know from personal experience had a terrifyingly strong grip. Jerking sideways, that same rifle disappeared down the darkness of the corridor, past where Jon could see it. Jon flinched with everyone else when the rifle slammed loudly into a wall.

  The sound echoed down the hall.

  Allie faced Wreg, hands clenched.

 
Wreg held up his hands, palms out, his dark eyes wary. He lowered his head and face, so that both lay below hers. Jon watched Wreg sign an apology, even as Jon himself continued to stand there, panting, fighting to remain where he was, to decide what to do.

  “Princess… I apologize,” Wreg said.

  She continued to stare at him.

  Wreg flinched, as if something happened to his light––something Jon couldn’t see.

  Through his connection to Wreg, Jon flinched too, feeling a shot of purely-instinctive fear, sharp enough and strong enough that his heart beat wildly in his chest, jackknifing painfully against his ribs. He stepped towards the two of them, barely conscious he’d done it, not even knowing what he intended to do.

  Then, just as hard and fast as it hit––

  The feeling of danger vanished.

  It melted around Jon and Wreg like smoke, leaving only the sound of Jon’s thumping heart.

  Allie was staring at Revik again, her eyes glowing a pale, vibrant green.

  She glared up at his angular face. She must have said something to him, or shown him something again, because Revik shook his head.

  “No.” He shook his head again, adamant, but Jon could hear fear in his voice. It nearly shook. “Please, baby. I need you to listen to me––”

  She must have cut him off. Her eyes narrowed.

  Anger filled her expression.

  More images slammed Jon’s mind. Like last time, they surfaced without warning, and he couldn’t block them out. Color, light and emotion erupted behind his eyes, blotting out the surrounding room. Before Jon could sit down, before he could even make sense of what he was seeing, sensation hit his light in a dense flood, bringing up a hard flush of pain, strong enough that it made him step back, nearly crying out.

  He gasped aloud before he could stop himself, raising a hand to his forehead, sitting back hard on the metal seat. He clamped his eyes shut as he tried to block the images out. He couldn’t block it out, though, and from the sounds and curses he heard around him, no one else could, either.

  Jon saw Allie on her knees in front of Wreg, then astride Balidor, and with––

  “Stop it!” Revik snarled. “Gods damn it––stop! Alyson! Stop! STOP NOW!”