War: Bridge & Sword: Apocalypse (Bridge & Sword Series Book 6)

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War: Bridge & Sword: Apocalypse (Bridge & Sword Series Book 6) Page 21

by JC Andrijeski


  17

  BARBARIAN

  “…DON’T WORRY ABOUT it,” Revik said, waving off my words. He slid into the leather booth next to me, settling so he half-leaned on my side. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Don’t worry about it?” I let out a humorless snort. “You’re acting totally bizarre. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “No,” he said, smiling wanly. Seeing my deadpan look, he let his smile fade, motioning vaguely with a hand. “Later, okay? After we sleep.”

  I frowned. After a few more seconds of feeling the tiredness on his light, I decided to let him drop it. Reluctantly.

  The instant I did, a flicker of relief left his light, strong enough that I stared at him again.

  “Seriously––” I began.

  “I promise I’ll talk to you, Allie,” he said, looking up. “I promise. But not now. Let me relax for a little while, okay? You should relax, too. We might not get another chance before things start up again.” He picked up a menu left on the table. “What do you want to eat?”

  Looking at him for another few seconds, I exhaled, conceding defeat. I watched him squint at the small print and grunted.

  “Don’t tell me you need glasses,” I said.

  When he continued to squint, my vague humor turned into puzzlement.

  “I was kidding with the ‘old man’ cracks, you know. Even Vash didn’t wear glasses. I figured it was like the teeth thing, where seers don’t age the human way.”

  “We don’t.” His voice sounded distracted as he continued to stare at the menu. I watched his eyes fight for focus. Giving up, he pushed the leather-bound pages over to me. “It’s my aleimi. I can’t seem to get it to calm down.” He nudged my arm, smiling. “It’s your fault.”

  “My fault? How do you figure?”

  He glanced at me, and I did another double-take.

  His eyes were glowing. Pale green light swam liquidly through the veins in his irises, shimmering in the low light of the restaurant.

  Feeling another hard flush of pain leave him, I stared at him in bewilderment, fighting the reaction in my light.

  “Maybe it’s not you,” he murmured, kissing my cheek. “Maybe it’s something in my light. But you’re definitely making it worse.” He nudged me with an arm. “Either way, you’d better order that coffee, wife. You’re going to need at least two.”

  I rolled my eyes, but shifted in my seat a little, still reacting to his light in spite of myself. He was closer now and laid a hand on my thigh, massaging it deliberately as he continued to read the menu over my shoulder.

  Before I could say anything, two seers appeared at our table, grinning from ear to ear. I knew both of them; they were employees of the Third Jewel. The female with the auburn hair, Junte, was almost a friend. She set my favorite, decadent, coffee drink on the table with a flourish, putting a second one down in front of Revik, who smiled a thanks.

  I was still talking to her, telling her about Albany and the crazy scene we’d witnessed outside the city, when other seers from the Argentina run began to filter into the restaurant. It wasn’t just those who’d traveled with us in the crate. Seers who’d been forced to go through quarantine at the docks began taking seats around us, too.

  Talei’s paperwork must have been better than decent.

  Within minutes, more chairs were pulled up, along with four or five more tables, extending our booth until we basically took up that whole end of the restaurant. I couldn’t help noticing stares from humans and new-refugee seers from other parts of the restaurant. Those stares continued as we talked and threw jokes and banter back and forth across the long table.

  I wondered how we looked to all of them––the humans, especially. Dirty, tired, loud, our filters pretty much non-existent, most of us wore clothes that hadn’t been washed in days if not weeks, along with armored coats, vests, holsters and boots that hadn’t been washed since we left the hotel nearly a month earlier.

  Our guns were cleaner than our armor in most cases.

  We looked like what we were, I realized––a military unit.

  “Possibly one run by pirates,” Revik murmured in my ear. “…or terrorists. Rabble rousers. Brigands here to steal gold, wine and females.”

  I snorted a laugh.

  Even so, I frowned around at our motley bunch––the scars on faces, the long hair in plaits and seer clips, grown-out beards, jewelry and tattoos on the men, the modified organic guns Wreg, Jorag, Chinja and Neela wore, the stone embedded in Ravi’s shoulder and the unusual headsets––I could definitely see what Revik was talking about.

  Torek hadn’t been kidding about the chef, Honoré, being ready for us.

  No one had even really looked at menus yet when heaping platters began to appear, carried on shoulders by waitstaff who emerged in ever-increasing numbers from the kitchen. Plates, glasses and utensils followed, along with pitchers of juice, coffee, water and milk. I saw a few harder drinks circulating, too, as infiltrators started to wind down, and to pull their light off high-alert status after days and days of nothing but vigilance and stress.

  Looking around at all of them, it hit me again, that the trip had been disastrous in some ways. Even in our few victories, it had been hard on everyone.

  “No one died, wife,” Revik reminded me, caressing my fingers. “That’s a hell of a victory, all things considered.”

  I nodded, relaxing somewhat.

  He was right, of course.

  The kitchen staff spoiled us with mounds of blueberry pancakes, syrup of every variety, crepes, croissants, sausages, bacon, eggs, toast, a large bowl of fruit and two bowls of green salad––the last of which was heavenly after weeks of eating nothing but what Revik and the other infiltrators called “field food,” the seer equivalent of pork and beans.

  As we dug into the initial offerings, they also brought out specific requests––everything from cheeses to chocolates, delicate pastries, small cakes, olives, mushrooms, pastas, soups, seer dishes featuring a lot of dead animal meat, even a few steaks.

  I watched everyone eat, all of us filthy, sweaty, sore, bruised and battered––all of us needing at least ten hours of real sleep, if not a solid twenty-four. Smiling, I wondered at Revik’s words, that we had all made it back, and more or less in one piece. For the first time, after Cass and everything else that happened, I felt a surge of real gratitude for that.

  Of course, some of us smelled more like vomit than others.

  Revik laughed. A pulse of heat left him as he leaned down to my ear.

  “It’s barely noticeable, love,” he murmured.

  “I meant you,” I said, elbowing him.

  He laughed, then kissed me, hard enough and with enough behind it, I reacted before my mind caught up, curling my fingers into his hair when he yanked me into his lap. Before I knew it, I was coiling my light into his, wrapping a leg over his when he tugged on my thigh so that I sat astride him. I stopped him, raising my head when his hand started yanking at the buckles on my vest, his fingers more deft than usual.

  When I looked down at his face, I heard half the table laughing at us.

  I fought to smile, but honestly, I was having trouble pulling back my light.

  Revik didn’t smile at all. His eyes glowed brighter, even as his light kept tugging on mine with insistent pulls, trying to get me to open more, his fingers massaging the muscles of my thigh, holding it around him.

  Fuck, wife. Pressing into me, he gripped my thigh tighter, averting his gaze.

  When I glanced over my shoulder, I got a few smiles and knowing looks, but most of the others had looked away, going back to their conversations. I realized with a slight pulse of relief that we still had the booth itself pretty much to ourselves.

  I slid off Revik’s lap despite the resistance I felt in his fingers. Once I was sitting beside him again on the red leather, he took my hand, placing it firmly in his lap. He held my fingers against him deliberately, closing his eyes when I let him. Leaning his mouth
by my ear, he merged his light into me further.

  “I want to fuck,” he murmured. “Gaos. I want to fuck.”

  I don’t think anyone could have heard him but me, but I still glanced around, feeling my face warm.

  “Do you want to go upstairs?” I said, soft.

  “No.” He hesitated. “…I don’t know. Soon.” He sent another, stronger pulse of heat. “Thanks to that piece of shit in the crate not being able to keep his light off yours, I’m feeling possessive now, too. I should probably eat more before I start acting on that.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, but didn’t ask who he meant.

  When he pressed my hand on him harder, I flinched, flushing more.

  “Are you actually extended?” I murmured, feeling another pulse of heat off him.

  He nodded, his hand deeper on my thigh, between my legs. His light pulled harder, and I felt a flicker of his thoughts, him wanting my mouth on him, wanting me to use my hand more deliberately. He kissed my throat, using his tongue, pulling until my vision slanted.

  “Revik, gaos––”

  “Finish me,” he murmured. “I’ll be quiet, wife. Promise.”

  “In here?” I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “No, baby.”

  “I’ll be quiet,” he repeated, softer. “They want us to. They want to watch us… at least feel it in our light. I’d do you, but I’m not sure if I could deal with you half-naked in here.”

  My cheeks warmed when his light coiled deeper, pulling on mine unapologetically. I pushed his hand off a few seconds later, removing my own. When I looked up next, I was having trouble focusing and Wreg was smirking at me, nudging Jorag to look at the two of us.

  “Check out the horny youngsters,” he scoffed, pointing with the hand that clutched his orange juice. “Is this your way of ensuring we all get laid tonight? Or are you looking to start some kind of orgy?” Wreg looked down the table, calling out in a loud voice. “Who’s up for group sex at Nenzi’s place?”

  I felt a wave ripple down the table, touching different lights as various seers reacted to his words, not all of them strictly in humor. I could even feel smatterings of what Revik referenced when he said they wanted to watch us fool around in here.

  I have to admit, it threw me.

  Even contemplating that idea felt pretty weird with this group––a lot weirder than it had with the Rebels at that base in China, which was the only other time I’d ever been in a situation where a group of seers wanted to light-bond following a particularly dangerous op.

  Really, China had been awkward enough.

  I got that it was at least partly biological, that wanting to be closer to the light of the leaders of the group. Knowing that didn’t make the reality of doing something like that with my friends any less weird––not to my conscious mind, at least.

  I mean, I knew these people.

  I’d known some of them for years now, almost as long as I’d known Revik. Even just feeling that some of them wanted to, or were tempted to want to, was weird enough. Truthfully, our wedding had been weird enough, in terms of some of the crazy shit I saw our friends do––some of them with members of my human family.

  Hell, my brother’s boyfriend was here.

  Balidor was here.

  I couldn’t imagine Revik being totally cool with that, no matter how many fences had been mended in that area.

  On the surface everyone only laughed, though, shaking their heads at Wreg.

  Jorag winked at me, then wrapped an arm around Neela, causing Yumi to burst out in an uncharacteristic laugh. I didn’t miss the look Holo gave Wreg, either, or the pulse of heat that came off Illeg’s light as she took in Ravi’s body in a single, predatory gaze.

  Luckily, Revik didn’t seem to notice most of the flirting, or Jorag and Garensche’s smiles at me. Catching my gaze, Balidor only rolled his eyes, half in apology, even as I saw a smile tug at his lips. I smiled back, fighting to keep my expression as casual as his.

  It struck me suddenly, that Wreg probably hadn’t told Jon about that whole “incident” at the Rebel hideout in the Chinese mountains, either. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I found myself thinking Wreg had better lay off with the jokes about orgies with the boss, or he was going to get all of us in trouble.

  Seeing Wreg’s quizzical look along with the faintly predatory smile that rose to his lips, I blanked out my expression. I wiped my mind clean, too, even as I stuffed a forkful of blueberry pancake in my mouth.

  When I glanced at Revik next, he frowned.

  “You started this,” I said defensively. “Don’t you dare get pissy with me.”

  Revik nodded, but that other look remained on his face as he glanced at Wreg. He didn’t let his gaze linger, but I saw Wreg notice, and couldn’t help seeing the sharper look in his eyes as he looked between us.

  “He’s going to find out eventually, you know,” Revik said, his eyes focusing elsewhere. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t include Wreg. It’s too soon.”

  “Include Wreg in what?” Lowering my fork, I gave him a sharper look. “You were serious? About the bonding thing?”

  He hesitated a beat, then gave me a look. “I wasn’t entirely not serious.”

  I stared at him, my jaw taut, but he only averted his gaze. Leaning closer, he speared a bite of pancake off my plate with his fork, popping it into his mouth. When he finished chewing and swallowing, he seemed about to say more, then shook his head, as if in surrender, motioning in the air with his fork.

  “Yes,” he sighed, clicking. He speared another bite of blueberry pancake, pushing it through the syrup on my plate. “I’m serious. And I want Wreg involved, so that means Jon.”

  For a second time, I let the hand holding my fork thunk to the table.

  I watched him chew the new bite of pancake, pausing to sip more coffee and drink a few swallows of water. When he took a third bite off my plate, I frowned, then gave in, yanking two more pancakes off the platter, dousing them in butter and syrup.

  I was still frowning as I watched him eat.

  “I’m not doing that,” I said finally. “Not with Jon. Not with Wreg. Not with Balidor. Hell, not even with Chandre. No way.” When he didn’t look up, or change expression, my frown deepened. “Why? Why would you want to do that?”

  Revik gave me a hard look. “What do you mean, why? You know why.”

  “No. I don’t. I have absolutely no idea why. You have a reason, too. A specific one. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Swallowing another bite of pancake, he shook his head, but not exactly in a no. “I want the group tighter. I think we need it, given what’s coming our way.”

  “But why now?” My lips pursed. “This is about me, isn’t it. Why? What’s wrong?”

  He glanced over, frowning. “It’s not you, per se.” Making a concessionary gesture with one hand, he shrugged. “But you’re right, I am worried about you. I can’t protect you right now. Not on my own. I want you bonded more to the group.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Hey. Overprotective guy. Telekinetic seer here. Just train me to use the telekinesis better, then you won’t need to protect me, all right?”

  He expression grew colder.

  At the utter lack of compromise in his eyes, my pulse quickened, even as my mouth twisted into another frown.

  “You’re serious?” I said. “Jesus, Revik. That’s a terrible idea.”

  “Is it?” he said, staring at me. “Think about it, Allie.”

  “I am thinking about it.” I kept my voice low with an effort. “Jon would totally flip out. Even if he went along with it, I would flip out. I don’t want to do that with Jon! I don’t want to do that with any of them! There’d be issues with Jon and Wreg afterwards… just from the way Yumi and Garend look at Jon, I can guarantee that. Never mind Oli and Poresh and whichever of the other seers might have a crush on Wreg.”

  When Revik clicked at me in irritation, I added,

  “You had an issue w
ith me afterwards. Remember? Do you really want to have sex in front of Balidor, given everything?”

  He gave me a harder look. “Yes. And fuck you for bringing up your infidelity right now.”

  I stared at him, feeling his words like a punch. When I started to move away, he caught hold of my thigh, abruptly subduing his voice, and his light.

  “Hey. I’m sorry.” Gripping my leg tighter, he pulled on my light to get me to look at him. “Allie, I apologize… I’m sorry about what I said. I just don’t understand why you’re not hearing me on this. This isn’t a joke. I’m not approaching this lightly, or as some sex thing. Our safety as a group is more important than a few hurt feelings and jealous tantrums. Including mine.”

  My mouth hardened as I clicked at him. “I am hearing you. I’m sorry you don’t like my answer. But no. No way.”

  He nodded, but I could tell from his eyes he hadn’t dropped it.

  Watching his face, I exhaled a sigh.

  “Revik. Will you just tell me what’s going on? Is it what we talked about with Wreg and Chandre on the sub?”

  He shook his head, gazing out over the table.

  I felt things on him as he continued to look over faces without seeming to see any of them. Fear expanded off his light, a pulse of near-helplessness mixed with protectiveness, the latter intense enough that I struggled not to touch him. When he still hadn’t broken the silence, I used my fingers on his jaw to turn his head.

  He let me, but I could feel the other emotions there, still.

  “Hey.” I caressed his face. “Let’s get out of here. Hang out in the room.”

  He shook his head, once. “No. Not right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Not right now, Allie. You don’t want to be alone with me right now.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  When I pulled on his light, he shook his head, his eyes still unseeing as he extricated himself from my aleimi. Giving in, I took my hands off him, sighing a little. Maybe in part to distract myself, I dug into the same blueberry pancakes he’d been eating.

  I felt Revik’s eyes on me as I ate. Another flush of heat left his aleimi.

  “It’s you Jon’s worried about,” he said, gruff. “He’s jealous of you and Wreg… probably because on some level he senses what happened in China. I don’t see how our being together in front of them will make that worse. It might even make it better. If he gets the purpose of that kind of bonding, he’ll realize it’s not personal… not the way he thinks.”

 

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