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

by JC Andrijeski

  “Don’t you want to give me light, little brother?” he said, his voice gruff. “Come in with me. Give me light. I promise I’ll be good.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Jon pushed at his chest. “No, all right? Gaos. You seers are nothing but big, horny teenagers. Even when you’re half-dead, apparently.”

  “Give me light,” Wreg said. “I’ll heal faster.”

  Wreg pulled on him with his light, harder that time, his arm wrapped around Jon’s waist.

  He didn’t speak when Jon only looked down, unfastening the last few catches on the front of the armored pants before he began tugging them down over the seer’s hips. He lowered his weight, pulling the pants off each of the seer’s strangely pale feet, and studiously ignoring the erection under the seer’s clothes, even though Wreg’s cock was fully extended, to the point where Jon was pretty sure he could have gotten him to do whatever he wanted if he put his hand on him, much less his mouth.

  At his thought, Jon heard the seer suck in a breath, right before he made a low noise. His fingers gripped Jon’s arms, hard as iron.

  “Little brother.” Wreg fought to pull him to his feet, his voice threaded with pain. “Fuck. I’m all right… I promise you. You don’t need to be so careful with me.”

  Disentangling himself from the seer’s hands and light, Jon stood, but only long enough to grab Wreg’s wrist, pulling him off the tile counter.

  “Inside,” he ordered, pointing to the sunken tub.

  Seeing the look that rose to Wreg’s face, he preempted any argument.

  “Now, Wreg. Do you need help?” When the other’s eyes glinted, Jon cut him off. “––I meant with getting in without breaking something. Not with your hormonal issues.”

  Leaning down, he hit off the controls for the water, since the basin was already filled to the rim. Still staring Wreg down, he folded his arms, watching the naked seer as he seemed to be thinking. Jon couldn’t help looking at him, though, especially when the seer walked closer, the designs inked over a large portion of his skin moving over dense muscles.

  Noticing Jon’s stare, Wreg pulled on him again, harder that time.

  Refusing to react, Jon waited as Wreg reached the raised platform of the tub.

  “You’re really not coming in with me?” Wreg said. “You’re a cruel fuck.”

  Jon rolled his eyes, gesturing noncommittally.

  “Get in. Now.”

  The seer clicked at him, sighing in defeat as he stepped into the steaming water. Jon couldn’t help noticing that the seer’s erection seemed to grow as he lowered himself, or the fact that Wreg’s eyes never left his face. Jon saw him close those eyes then, even as he eased himself the rest of the way down, leaning against the edge and resting his head.

  “Gods,” he said, his voice nearly a groan. “You put oil in here. Can I jerk off, at least?”

  “No,” Jon said, laughing involuntarily. “You’ll just hurt yourself. Again.”

  Wreg chuckled in reply.

  Opening his eyes, he turned sharply when he heard Jon’s first boot join the pile of Wreg’s clothes on the floor. The seer’s near-black eyes turned openly predatory when Jon finished tugging off his second boot, tossing that one down as well.

  “You fucker,” Wreg said. “You’re going to strip for me, and I can’t jerk off? Is it some family trait to be an insufferable tease?”

  At the reference to Allie, Jon’s jaw hardened, even as he paused from where he’d started to unhook his vest. He aimed a less friendly stare at the other seer.

  “Don’t get pissed off,” Wreg said. “I just talk shit. You know I do, Jon. It doesn’t mean anything. It was a fucking joke, anyway.”

  Jon grunted, not answering. He pulled at the catches of the armored vest, even as he felt another pulse of pain leave the watching seer.

  “Yes, you talk shit,” he said, shrugging off the vest and letting it drop to the floor. Aiming a dark look at the seer, he added, “A little too much sometimes, brother Wreg. Maybe I should make a few threesome jokes about Yumi or Revik. See how much humor you get out of that.”

  Wreg frowned, even as more pain left his light, along with a shimmer of emotion that might have been embarrassment. “Nenz told you? Asshole.”

  “He told Allie. I just happened to be there.”

  Setting down the one holster he’d been wearing, as opposed to Wreg’s five, he began unfastening his shirt.

  “Are you going to teach me more mulei, like you promised?” Jon said, frowning at the taut look coming to the seer’s features. “…Or are you going to be too busy staring at my sister’s ass to fit that into your busy schedule?”

  Wreg looked up, his expression bordering on aggressive. “Are you coming in here? Because I may give you a mulei lesson now, if you don’t.”

  Jon let out a laugh, in spite of himself.

  He shoved down his armored pants once he got his belt undone. He didn’t bother to hide his erection, either, and felt another ripple of pain leave the seer’s light as he pulled the pants off each of his legs and feet before dropping them on the floor.

  Just having all of that heavy crap off his body made him feel about a hundred times better. He could breathe again, despite his own soreness and the fading bruises he still wore, most of them earned from either Wreg or Allie dragging him to the ground at that château, as well as the work they’d done barricading up that apartment building in Albany.

  Remembering Cass’s face as she left with Feigran, he shoved it out of his mind with a grimace, even as he fingered the mark on his jaw. The bruise had swollen and darkened rapidly in the days after they left Argentina.

  It was mostly healed now, but still sore.

  “I really am sorry about that, brother,” Wreg said. “Truly.”

  Jon clicked at him softly, giving him a wan smile. “Are you worried I didn’t believe you the first three hundred times you apologized?”

  “Maybe. Why do you think I didn’t try to fuck you in Albany?”

  Jon laughed again, clicking at him as he turned.

  Wreg’s expression tightened as Jon walked closer. His eyes focused on Jon’s erection, right before another pulse of that denser, more belly-oriented pain left his light.

  “Gaos. Come here, brother. Please.”

  When Jon sat on the edge of the tub, Wreg slid closer, wincing a little from his arm as he sat up. Jon only shoved at his chest lightly when he got close enough, rearranging his weight on the edge of the raised platform.

  “Chill out. Jesus.” Reaching for the bottle of shampoo, Jon tapped on the back of the seer’s head. “Down.”

  Wreg laughed, turning his head. “Gladly, brother. I thought you’d never ask.”

  Jon shoved at him again, snorting. “Nice try, pervert. Get your hair wet. Try to pretend you’re a grown-up for five minutes. You’ve only got, what? Two hundred years on me?”

  “No need to rub it in,” Wreg grumbled.

  He did as Jon asked, though, sliding away from the tub’s edge and backwards into the steaming water to wet the rest of his shoulder-length hair. Jon watched him do it, watching the sliding movement of the tattoos as he raised his hands to smooth back his black hair, flexing the muscles of his arms and shoulders.

  Jon liked the shorter hair on the seer. He hadn’t asked him to do it, but for some reason, the seer cut his hair only a few days after they’d started dating––or sleeping together, anyway. Allie told him Wreg had worn the barbarian braid since she’d met him.

  Jon hadn’t asked him why he’d done it.

  When Wreg glanced over at him, his broad chest exposed above the water, Jon forced his eyes away, pouring shampoo into his palm and motioning for Wreg to turn around. The seer complied, relaxing somewhat when Jon began rubbing shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp with both hands.

  Leaning against Jon’s crossed leg, Wreg sighed as Jon worked the dirt out of his scalp. After a few more times of that, Jon started massaging soap over his shoulders and chest, avoiding the area with the
organic patch. The seer sat up when Jon prodded him.

  Once he had, Jon stopped, sucking air between his teeth.

  “Jesus. What the fuck is that?”

  Wreg turned, eyes glazed. He seemed to have to think about Jon’s words.

  “Oh. Yeah. Didn’t you see that already? In Argentina?”

  Jon frowned. “I saw part of it… I didn’t realize it covered your whole damned back, or that it hadn’t healed in the time since. What the hell did you do, Wreg? Did you get an X-ray or anything on the carrier?”

  Wreg made a dismissive gesture.

  “They looked at it with handhelds in the field.” He smiled, trying to soften the look on Jon’s face, and not succeeding. “I was standing too close to the transformers when they blew the first OBE at the second camp,” he explained. “Threw me backwards into a damned tree.”

  He gave another amused snort.

  “…Thought I’d fucking broken it. My back, not the tree. I was imagining having to explain that to Nenz, when they brought me down to Patagonia in traction, all of our brand new infiltrators re-caught and penned.”

  Glancing up at Jon’s expression, he slid an arm around his leg, smiling.

  “It was my own damned fault,” he said, blowing warmth at him reassuringly. “I wasn’t paying attention… maybe there was too much going on. The second camp we hit, a lot of things went a bit crazy, since it wasn’t in the original plan.” He kissed Jon’s thigh, blowing more warmth. “Don’t worry, it’s not a sign of premature senility.”

  Jon rolled his eyes, but felt his jaw clench.

  He motioned for the seer to turn around again, but Wreg caught hold of his ankle instead, tugging on him, pulling his leg towards the water.

  “Please, brother,” he said, his voice gruff, his eyes hardening as he looked at Jon’s body. “How many times must I beg you? My fucking body hurts, yeah, but that’s not what hurts the most.” Releasing his ankle when Jon pulled free, Wreg slid backwards in the tub, tugging on him with his light in sensual pulls instead.

  “Let me wash your hair at least… and maybe your cock.”

  Jon shook his head, laughing.

  After a pause, he flipped his hand sideways. “You know I only saw that bruise after you washed the first layer of South America off your skin. There’s enough dirt on the two of us to build a new continent.” Frowning, he added, “If I get in there with you, we’ll have to take a shower. Kind of defeats the purpose.”

  Wreg shook his head.

  “No.” His voice held more of an accent. “This tub’s a new thing. Replaces water… it’s automatic. Totally clean.”

  Laughing partly because he understood the seer’s words, Jon conceded defeat.

  Shifting his legs forward, he dipped his feet into the tub, wincing at how hot it was. After a bare hesitation, he slid the rest of the way in.

  The instant he did, Wreg pinned him against the wall of the tub.

  Large hands curled around Jon’s shoulders as the bigger seer pressed his body against his. Jon pushed him back, laughing again, but found himself exploring the seer with his hands under the water anyway, invasively enough that Wreg’s pain worsened, catching Jon’s breath, bringing that thicker nausea back to his belly.

  Wreg hadn’t been kidding; he really was hurting in that area.

  Sometimes Jon knew the seer just wanted to play, or that being a horny seer was part of his persona, but this time, Wreg fought Jon’s hands openly once Jon started touching him.

  Jon found himself gripping the seer’s wet hair, sending a sharp pulse of warning at his light.

  Immediately, Wreg stopped fighting him. He didn’t release Jon’s arms, though.

  Jon said, “I thought we established ground rules for this little scenario?”

  Wreg eyes glimmered with frustration. “All bets are off, if you’re going to pull on me like this. Gaos. Why are you saying no? Are you really angry with me?”

  Jon frowned. “No. Are you sure it’s me pulling on you?”

  “So much so, I’m about to get violent.” Wreg met his gaze, frowning back at him. “You’re sure you’re not angry? I thought maybe someone told you about that bullshit in Third Jewel. Because I stopped him, Jon. Maybe you heard the story wrong, because of what I said out loud, but trust me, it was Adhipan and me who put a stop to it.”

  Jon stared at him, puzzled. “What bullshit in the Third Jewel?”

  Wreg hesitated, staring between his eyes.

  Seeming to weigh it back and forth, he shrugged then, dismissive.

  “Just Nenz,” he said vaguely. “He had some issue this morning. He wants Allie bonded more closely to the group. He has his reasons… but he was being a little punk about it. She said no, and he tried to pull her into it anyway.”

  “Revik was being a punk… how?” Jon stared at the seer, feeling himself tense, even before his mind caught up with the seer’s words. “Revik wants Allie more bonded to the group? How? What did he try to pull her into?”

  Wreg studied his face, his dark eyes suddenly wary.

  After again seeming to go back and forth in his mind, he shrugged again, as if to minimize his own words.

  “He wants to bond the group more tightly together. You know. The way seers do.”

  Seeing understanding touch Jon’s eyes, Wreg gripped his thigh.

  “Jon… he wants you to be part of it, too. Don’t make this into something it’s not. It’s a seer thing, and anyway, Balidor and I talked him down. Don’t be too hard on Nenz, either. It’s what he knows, and he’s dealing with a lot of shit right now. He’s got a lot of fear for his wife, on top of everything else. That whole thing with Ditrini really rattled him.”

  Seeing Jon frown, Wreg looked away, frowning himself.

  “…Anyway, it’s how things used to be done. With the Rebels, too.”

  Seeing Jon’s eyebrows go up, Wreg fell silent, the expression on his face cautious.

  “Well,” he said. “You know what I mean.”

  “No,” Jon said. “I really don’t. What was done with the Rebels?”

  Wreg stared between his eyes, his expression openly wary now.

  Jon stared back, half-reading him, when Wreg abruptly blanked out his mind––but not before Jon found he understood.

  “l’thir li’ dare.” He cursed under his breath, staring at the Chinese seer. “You goddamned bastard. You slept with Allie? You actually fucking slept with her? With the Rebels?”

  “What? No!” Wreg blanched, staring back at him. From the look on his face, he seemed to not only mean it, but to realize the depth of his mistake. “D’ gaos, Jon… no. No. I didn’t sleep with your sister. Are you serious? Nenzi would have cut off my balls.”

  “Then what did you do?”

  Wreg continued to stare at him, shock shimmering in his black eyes.

  When Jon prodded him with his light to speak, Wreg looked away.

  The seer’s expression grew increasingly uncomfortable. That time, when Wreg looked back at him, the dark eyes looked evasive. Releasing Jon’s legs, he moved back, putting a few feet between them. Half-treading water in the deepest part of the pool, he shrugged his broad, tattooed shoulders. Glancing again at Jon’s expression, which must have worsened in the pause, he sighed, clicking a little, as if to himself.

  His voice lost every shred of humor.

  “Nenz… I think he wanted to bond her more tightly to the team back then, too,” he said reluctantly. He gave another shrug. “He was insecure about her. He’d told me that, even before the Registry job. He worried the Bridge still hadn’t committed to staying with him past the six months they’d initially agreed upon. We all thought he was nuts. Of course she would stay. None of us could imagine her leaving, not anymore, not after everything we’d all been through together.”

  A touch of anger reached his voice before he frowned, avoiding Jon’s eyes.

  “It’s not a big deal, Jon… it’s really not. It used to be standard in a lot of military groups. None of us touched
her. If any of us had tried, I’m pretty sure Nenz would have killed us. He wasn’t exactly in his right mind that night.”

  But Jon already picked up enough from Wreg’s light that his jaw hardened.

  “I see,” he said, fighting to keep the fury from his voice, along with a harder thread of disgust. “You didn’t touch her. You just watched her and Revik have sex. Oh, and got off on it enough to all screw each other. Nice.”

  “I didn’t fucking touch her, Jon!” Wreg’s voice held more anger that time. “Goddamn it, brother. Be reasonable about this––”

  “Sure. You didn’t touch her. You just screwed two other seer females while you watched my sister get fucked by her husband. That’s great, Wreg. Lovely.”

  “That kind of thing used to be normal, Jon!” Wreg’s voice slid into a harder frustration. “Hell, the Lao Hu probably did something similar with her, to bond her to the group. Something a lot less conjugal than what I was a part of––”

  “Jesus.” Jon felt sick. “Not helping, Wreg.”

  “Gods damn it, Jon! I didn’t know you then. I hadn’t had an exclusive partner in about forty years. And I was in pain. Hell, all of us were. We’d been going through that bonding crap with Nenz and his wife for months by then…”

  Jon wasn’t listening to him anymore.

  Standing abruptly, he climbed out of the tub before the thought fully formed in his head.

  When his eyes took in anything again, he was pulling back on the dirty combat clothes, without bothering to dry himself off beforehand. The shirt stuck to his chest as he threw the vest on over it, picking up the holster and gun and throwing them over his shoulder.

  Wreg just watched him at first, not speaking.

  Jon felt the seer trying to get at his light, but when Jon shoved him off forcefully, giving him a warning glare, Wreg’s face went the palest Jon had ever seen it.

  Ignoring that, too, he started for the door, when a loud splash of water startled him enough to make him turn. Wreg vaulted out of the tub, moving so quickly Jon found himself flinching back, despite his anger.