by O. J. Lowe
He glanced around, closed his eyes to try and cut out any sort of distractions. The medic wasn’t paying him any sort of attention now, he had the chance for some scant privacy. In the heat of the moment, it had come to him, beyond his control and now he had no idea how to do it again. For several moments, he sat there, his mind wandering. About the only thing that came to him were thoughts about who he might face in the next round. He tried to blot them out. What had he been doing when they’d come to him before?
Okay, he’d been involved in the bout. He’d been heavily focused on victory… Maybe it was a connection with one of his spirits. Maybe Palawi had developed pre-cognition and he’d been getting a loopback from the dog. Maybe. It was, in theory, likely. A lot of things were possible in theory. At the same time, reality often didn’t match the possibility. It sounded absurd but there was a miniscule chance it might be the case.
Or maybe, more likely, it was him who had done it. But how? It felt like the most important question he might ever ask and even thinking it inside the confines of his head was enough to send echoes rippling to the corners of his mind. How. A small word but behind it, there was enough mystery to be getting on with. If he could do something like that, then why had he never done it before? There were plenty of times when it would have benefited him…
Except he had. He remembered that dream all too well. That had turned out to be sort of true, an omen that he hadn’t ignored and thus been rewarded for. At the same time though, that had been a vague dream. These had been crystal clear images that had benefited the situation at hand. Every attack Irrow had thrown at Palawi he’d been able to react to.
Wasn’t that cheating? That question hung in his mind and he hesitated. Whether it truly was or not, he didn’t think so. It wasn’t something he’d planned to do; he wasn’t even sure he could do it again if the situation required it. Therefore, not cheating. It felt a little hollow as he repeated the words in his head.
One final effort to recreate it, one final failure and he got to his feet, tottered on the spot for a moment and then bent over double and spewed the contents of his stomach.
Pete felt lousy.
Or at least he should have. He didn’t feel it physically, his body felt pretty good considering. Weary, taut from the preceding actions but still he felt satisfied. Mentally was quite another matter. Seeing Jess’s arm draped across his chest, her head in the crook of his arm wasn’t something he thought he’d get used to. Maybe he wouldn’t have to. On the other hand, now he’d shot several loads into her and the clarity was returning to his mind, he had questions. Only the thought he might not like the answers had stopped him from voicing them. He wasn’t even sure if she was awake or not. He could see her back gently rising and falling as she breathed, her eyes not open. Did she just not like to talk post sex or…
Scott would have known.
Oh Scott… Somehow, he had a feeling his friend might be… Well if not okay with it, he might not make a big thing about it. After all, he and Jess had broken up. It had been pretty messy the way he’d read into it. Really messy. The sort of mess which meant he didn’t want to be suddenly in the firing line.
Yet at the same time, she knew what she was doing between the sheets. It was undoubtedly the best he’d had for a while, perhaps in his top five of all time. Seeing her like this was an experience, he’d never seen her look so at peace with herself. With her eyes closed and her gentle breathing, she looked so small and innocent.
Part of him felt fucking brilliant. The other half wanted to run into a corner and groan. Nothing about this felt a brilliant idea now Yet back when it had been happening, he couldn’t have gotten enough of it. Way to go Pete, think with your crotch, look where it gets you.
He must have stiffened at that thought, for she brought her head up to look him through sleepy eyes, stifling a yawn.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “Thought you were asleep.”
“Same,” he said. She furrowed a brow at that.
“You thought you were asleep?” she asked before grinning. “I know, I know. So…”
By the look on her face, Pete would have sworn she was just as uncomfortable as he was. Maybe she hadn’t planned it. Not that he’d think her capable of planning something like this. That hadn’t occurred to him until right now.
“So…” he said, genuinely lost for words. If there was anything he could say to break the ice, he wasn’t sure what. “That was… Nice, I think.”
Yeah, that wasn’t it. He flinched visibly, more so as she focused her eyes at him, colour flushing into her cheeks. Not in a good way either. He’d seen that face before, it usually meant one thing.
“Nice?” she asked incredulously. “That was nice?!”
“Well I enjoyed it,” he said, his cheeks flushing. “You were pretty good. I hope you got something out of it.” Her expression was a picture and he genuinely didn’t know how he could keep looking her in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m not going to bullshit around the truth here. I’m feeling a little uncomfortable.”
“Why?” she asked, wriggling up closer to him. He could feel she was still naked under the sheets. Somewhere during the whole thing, she’d lost her dress. Despite what they’d just done, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to sneak a look when she got up. Some things you didn’t want to see. Suffice to say if they’d ever been friends, they were no longer.
“Gee, why do you think?” he said, a lot more abrupt than he’d expected it to come out. “Which part of what we just did do you think makes me feel uncomfortable? Was it the first, second or third time?”
“It might have been the fourth,” she said, grinning at him. “Got to say, you’ve got more endurance than Scott…”
“Yeah you just killed any chance of round five,” Pete said. “That really makes me in the mood for it, I got to say. Being compared to my best friend in bed.”
“Why? You measure up a lot better.” She winked at him and snaked a hand across his body, toying with him. “A lot better. Think I might be walking funny the rest of the day.”
Nice! He smirked sardonically. “What can I say? I’m a blessed man. Some guys get length; some guys get girth. I got it both. Gilgarus loves me.”
“I think Gilgarus has more on his celestial mind than the size of your cock,” she said dryly. “Me on the other hand…”
“Hmmm…” Pete said, suddenly not quite able to suppress a grin. “I never had you down as a nympho.”
“Nah, I like fucking,” she said, her hand teasing him to hardness. He tried to control his breathing, finding it harder by the second. Her hands were so soft. “Really, I do.”
“That why you played me?” he asked breezily, felt her hand stop at his words, fingers still around him but not moving. Maybe having this conversation while she had her hand on his cock wasn’t the best idea.
“What?” She looked confused, more than a little insulted and he got the feeling it wouldn’t take long for her to catch on. “You think I planned this?” Anger was creeping into her voice. He wondered if he could yank himself free of her grip before she got it into her head to start squeezing.
“That thought had crossed my mind,” he said lightly, trying to roll away from her. Maybe he could make a break for the door. And go where exactly? This was his room. Running naked into the corridor wouldn’t be the best idea he’d ever had. “I mean; you can’t stand me…”
“Yeah and now you’re reminding me why,” she said. The tiniest amount of pressure started to give on his cock and he tried to bear it without flinching. “Just for the record, Pete, don’t think you’re a Divines gift to women and I’d go to all this effort to try and entrap you.”
The tiniest flicker of affront crossed his mind and he glared at her. “Not the reaction I was expecting. You seemed keen on it, you initiated it. Can’t blame you really.” His glare faded, and he returned her wink from a few moments ago.
“Can you be any more self-absorbed?”
“I think I could,” he s
aid. She’d stopped squeezing, thankfully. She hadn’t resumed other activities though unfortunately. He leaned his arms back behind his head, tried to make himself comfortable. “So, it just sort of happened then?”
“I think the correct term,” she said. “Is taking advantage of a situation.” She saw his face and grinned. “No, not like that. I’m not about to shout rape. I was low, you were quite kind, for you and I just thought why not. You didn’t exactly say no, did you?”
“I couldn’t. My mouth was busy.” He wasn’t exactly without charm and he turned it on, grinning at her. “I’m glad it was.” He blew out his cheek and sighed. “But you know what? I can’t help but wonder where we go from here?”
“We?” She sounded incredulous. “There is no we, Pete. Don’t ever forget that.” She threw the covers back, he did the gentlemanly thing and averted his eyes. He could hear her getting dressed. “This was a onetime thing, I’m sorry to say.”
“That bad huh?” he asked. She finished adjusting the straps of her dress and he met her eyes. “Kinda adds credence to my ‘you planned this whole thing’ theory’ doesn’t it?”
“Well I didn’t,” she said. “Pete, there’s a thousand reasons why we wouldn’t work. Scott and I weren’t really… We didn’t work, okay. You’d have to be blind not to realise. You and I would be even worse together. Give us a month and we’d be throwing punches at each other. And I don’t want to put you on your ass. Besides, do you even want to date me?”
He couldn’t lie when she put it like that. “No offence but no, not really. Like you said, we’d grate each other too much. You think this sounds like the quitter’s way out?”
She shrugged. “It’s not quitting if you never started. It’s avoiding it. And plus, if we did start something, it’d be a bit awkward around Scott, right?”
Ah… She’d brought it up. “I wouldn’t mind keeping it quiet actually,” he said slowly. “You know; he might take it the wrong way.”
“Or he might rib you for getting his sloppy seconds,” she said. No part of the smile as she said those words looked real. “He can’t say anything to you about it. He and I are finished. I was missing him earlier, I wanted him back, and part of me still does I think, but I’ve got to remember that it wasn’t always good. A lot of it wasn’t.”
Pete nodded. “You know; I don’t think of you as sloppy seconds.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but you know how Scott’s mind works. It starts at the bottom and goes a little deeper every time he opens his mouth.”
“That’s true,” Pete replied, relief going through him. She was right, he hadn’t technically done wrong, but you couldn’t always work out the way people were going to react in any given situation and this was one of those. Scott’s mind did work in a funny way; she was right about that. Things any normal person might find offensive, he laughed at and stuff the same person might brush off, he had the potential to get in a state about. He hadn’t done it much since they’d gotten to the island, but it remained beneath the surface.
“You know…” She’d gotten her shoes on now, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of sadness and relief. “If I’d seen this Peter Jacobs more often, our travels together might have been more pleasant. Bye, Pete. I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday. Until then, enjoy. Good luck in the tournament.”
And with that, she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her.
The meeting had finished, and Anne had originally planned to walk out with Lysa. Yet like all plans, it had been subject to failure at the first part of human interaction. Lysa had made some excuses about last minute practice she needed to engage in, Anne hadn’t detected anything in her emotions beyond a sense of overwhelming apology that wasn’t fake, at least in her opinion.
She’d done what any friend would have, smiled and said it was fine. If Lysa had other things to do, then that was fine with her. Anne would find something else to do. They’d missed the Steven Silver bout; it had been on in the background of the bar, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She knew he’d lost but that was about the full extent. Maybe she’d try and track down the highlights package, see if she could see what had gone wrong for him. She knew of Steven Silver and he wasn’t a pushover. Irrow on its own was a formidable opponent. His conqueror must be a fierce competitor.
For a while she wandered the promenades. From the night the people had started to arrive on the island, the sideshow attractions and vendors once so prominent were slowly starting to fade. Still people milled but the marvellous was starting to become mundane, it would appear.
A shame, for wonder came in many forms, yet it appeared only that which became spectacle drew on the hearts and minds of those who could appreciate it. For many minutes, she strode the streets until she found herself at the Clinton Abedi Training Complex. She’d been by a few times, never entered. She’d met Clinton Abedi in the past and had been impressed with the force of nature he’d been. A Vazaran spirit caller turned politician who had fallen foul of the Vazaran Suns for openly condemning their acts. He’d called them a blight on the sands and made every effort to get them outlawed.
It had been an act of defiance which had ultimately cost him his life, but he’d made his point. Had he not made the sacrifice, the Vazaran Suns might be running the kingdom by now. At least with Nwakili in charge, he wasn’t going to take any shit from them. It was good to see even though you might be gone, you still got recognition in some small way. Would Abedi have liked it? She couldn’t say. She hoped he would have. He’d given his life for his beliefs. No doubt they’d thought they were honouring him by naming this for him. Maybe he would’ve hated it.
She’d like a building named after her. The Annabeth Sullivan something for something-something. That’d be awesome. She pushed the door open, grinned at the thought. Was too long since she’d had the chance to practice her technique. Her crystals were getting a little too dusty for her liking Besides, she had a good feeling about it. Somewhere beyond the doors, she could feel the tug of a familiar mind.
Him.
She’d have laughed were it not so unexpected. He hadn’t noticed she was there yet, his back to her and an anklo out in front firing sharp leaves at targets. They’d really put their all into developing this centre, a state-of-the-art place for callers to work on techniques in a controlled environment. She’d always felt that a bit of a misnomer. You couldn’t have controlled environments where spirits were throwing around attacks. The best you could do would be put in safeguards and hope for the best. Wade had told her the story of that boat ride he’d taken over here, how one of them had failed and he’d nearly been hit by an unconscious gytrash. Even now as she watched him with his spirit, she could see those leaves were capable of cutting an opponent in half with a clean hit. Without shielding and thick walls, a miss could smash through the building and ruin someone’s day.
Still, Theobald Jameson looked like he knew what he was doing. He’d beaten the boss’s kid to go onto the next round, but he was keeping his eye in. He wasn’t resting on his laurels. Training hard to stay sharp. She came to a halt, had to steady herself in surprise as she watched him. For once, she couldn’t sense naked anger in him. That was new. This time, it was more controlled aggression. Focused. Useful. He’d listened to what she’d said.
Somehow that pleased her. It was a feeling she couldn’t explain, a little surge of warmth deep in her stomach. He’d listened to her. She’d never fancied herself as much of a teacher before but then again, she’d gotten the impression Theo never fancied himself as much of a student. He’d seemed like the sort who’d take a dozen kicks until he worked out how to stop it on his own, rather than be told after the first one. Stubborn. Really stubborn. Never backing down. Never admitting defeat.
If she was honest, she found that an attractive quality. What did that say about her? She liked people who stuck to their convictions.
Why had he agreed to let her give him some pointers? It wasn’t something he’d been willing to
share with her. She’d not been able to get an answer off his emotions, for empathic abilities only went so far, or maybe she didn’t want to know the answer. Sometimes things had a way of working out. He’d been here practicing. She’d been stuck for something to do. They’d been drawn together. It was unlikely they’d be friends. They’d never associate in the same circles. She wasn’t even sure if he did have friends. And the strange thing about that was he seemed happy with that.
“Ms Sullivan,” he said without turning around. “Are you going to stand there all day?” She stiffened. How’d he known she was there? She made a habit of being stealthy. His emotions didn’t change one bit. Part of her was disappointed by that. He could at least be happy to see her. “Or are you going to come over here and show me what you’re capable of.”
This time his aura twitched, and she smiled, pulling out her summoner as she strode forward. He turned to greet her, the corners of his mouth shifting as if he wanted to smile but couldn’t force the expression out.
“I should be saying that to you,” she said. “How about you show me what you’re capable of instead.”
“Standard bout?”
“How about we make things interesting?” she smiled. He caught her expression for a moment, then looked away.
The tenth day of Summerpeak.
The breakthrough had come. Sinkins was there, as were Domis and Rocastle, the four of them studying the man sat in front of her. He didn’t look well; he had clearly suffered for some time. Dark skinned, his hair long and unkempt he stared back at her with eyes far too bright. They were mismatched, one brown and one a brilliant electric blue. His clothes were stained and torn, the oldest she’d ever seen. His jacket was missing a sleeve and she could see his toes through the left of his mismatched shoes. Several months-worth of beard marked his face, his entire body shook every time he moved.