Even so, he didn’t give her the chance to shut him up.
“You’re not going after him?” Jon said, the accusation on the surface. “Revik. You’re not going after him? Seriously? He’s your goddamned husband, Al.”
He watched her jaw tighten.
But only a little.
After that, she couldn’t seem to force herself to hold his gaze.
She shrugged, but the gesture struck Jon as wholly scripted––practically forced. He watched her small fingers as she tugged at the edge of the long T-shirt she wore. He found himself wondering if the shirt had been Revik’s then shoved that angrily from his mind.
“Allie?” he said, his voice harsh.
She pulled harder on the shirt, shrugging human-style that time, using her shoulders.
“He made it clear he wouldn’t appreciate that,” she said. “Revik.”
She said his name with an effort, as if forcing it out.
Jon gaped at her.
“And you’re listening to him?” he said. “When he’s obviously not in his right fucking mind? You’re going to let him just… what? Bail? Commit suicide? You know damned well where he’s probably going, Al! And you know why he’s doing it like this, why he snuck out and didn’t tell anyone. It’s that shit in Dubai. He’s convinced he’ll kill you and Lily if––”
“Jon.” She met his gaze.
That more distant look receded from her eyes, if only briefly. Her voice grew into an open warning, right after her lips pressed together in a hard line.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, shaking her head. “That part of the discussion is closed.”
“Closed? Fuck you, it’s closed! What the hell is wrong with you, that you’d––”
“Jon.” She met his gaze, eyes harder.
“Al,” he snapped, his voice twisting in sarcasm.
Before he could gear up to speak again, her light darted out, silencing him.
Jon barely felt it while it happened. It was there and gone––and then he fought to breathe, feeling the hairs on his arms standing on end. A sharp, electric-like current vibrated his skin and light. Whatever seethed off her aleimi touched him in a millisecond, even from across the table.
The voltage behind that single touch nearly stopped his heart.
He went from angry––to afraid––then, when her light retracted, to even angrier.
When he met her gaze next, her eyes clicked into sharper focus.
“Jon. Stop.” She held up a hand, voice cold. “Revik made a formal request of me. A formal request.” Her voice grew harder, still holding that warning. “It was a spousal request, Jon. As a result, it’s none of your goddamned fucking business. Do you hear me?”
He flinched. So did a few seers sitting next to him.
Even so, Jon didn’t lower his gaze.
Letting her words hang deliberately, she looked around at all of them, the warning intensifying in her voice as she stopped on each face.
“…None of you gets a vote in this. Is that clear?” she said. “Not a goddamned one. I am honoring my husband’s wishes. If you decide to go after Revik on your own, without me, that’s your call. But you’ll be leaving me to do it. You’ll be defecting from this camp. I want there to be zero confusion on that point. Nor will I consider any petitions, formal or not, to violate his stated desires––whether they include me or not.”
Jon stared at her. That time, instead of anger, his jaw dropped.
He seriously couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
He felt his breath coming harder then, even as tears sprang to his eyes.
Wreg touched his arm from his other side, his fingers pulsing warmth, love, but Jon jerked away, not taking his eyes off Allie’s face.
“He’s the father of your fucking child,” Jon said. “What, Al? Are the rumors really true? You bored? Looking for new conquests?”
He didn’t mean the words.
He couldn’t even finish them really.
He also didn’t believe them.
Sure, he’d heard the rumors about some weird thing with Allie and Chandre on the wall, but he didn’t believe it then and he didn’t believe it now. Or, more accurately, he knew that whatever had happened, it sure as hell hadn’t been what some of the seers were saying.
Allie wasn’t sleeping with Chandre.
She wasn’t sleeping with anyone but Revik. Nor would she. Jon wouldn’t believe that of either of them at this point, not unless someone forced them to do it.
But that brought his mind back to the night before, making him wince before he could block it entirely from his mind.
He closed his light, even as he looked away from her face.
He’d said the words to hurt her, but more than anything to reach her.
He wanted her to snap out of whatever fugue cloud she was hiding in, whatever the hell was wrong with her right now. He felt like he’d walked out of the weirdness of the night before into some kind of bizarro-land alternate reality, one where his sister the fighter had been replaced by a valium-addled robot.
The Allie he knew would never let Revik leave.
Allie would never let him leave, not like this––no matter what he wrote to her in some goddamned note. She wouldn’t respect her husband’s wishes if it meant he’d harm himself on her behalf. She’d never let him sacrifice himself in some twisted attempt to protect her.
She wouldn’t fucking stand for it.
Hell, she hadn’t let him go when Revik joined the Dreng willingly.
“We have a daughter now,” she said, giving him a colder stare.
“So you’re fine with that daughter growing up without a father?” Jon retorted. “That’s cool with you, sis? Really?”
He saw her wince. Like really wince.
Pain slid through his light. He could feel it was hers, but he didn’t let himself soften.
“What are you doing, Al?” he said.
Again, Wreg laid a hand on his arm, breathing a cautioning pulse of light, but Jon only pushed his mate’s fingers away, still watching Allie’s face.
His voice sounded young, even to his own ears.
“Al?” he said. “What the fuck is this? What’s going on? What are you doing?”
Her jade green eyes once more met his.
That warning coldness and pain and charge faded as Jon watched, leaving her blank, as if lost in the possible vagaries behind his question. Jon felt her puzzlement return. The heat that sparked there briefly just… went out.
Like it had been extinguished by a wet cloth.
That nothing bled into her entire expression by the time she spoke.
“I just told you,” Allie said. “I’m going to Denver, Jon. With Chandre and the others. I need to talk to President Brooks. I need to make sure they don’t nuke China.” Her frown deepened. “Don’t you understand? I can’t risk going with the rest of you now. Not when they might use Revik to track me. You have to go with Lily and Maygar without me. You have to protect my daughter. I’ll find some way to be with you later, okay?”
Jon stared at her in disbelief.
He opened his mouth, about to speak again.
That time, Wreg laid a much more insistent hand on his arm.
When Jon started to pull away, Wreg gripped him tighter, refusing to let go, holding him hard enough that it hurt. Jon met his gaze, a pulse of anger leaving his light. Using his own aleimi, Wreg smacked him back, hard.
It was enough to silence Jon, briefly at least.
Then to hurt his feelings.
He opened his mouth, but Wreg cut him off, using his mind to push at him again.
She’s in shock, brother, Wreg sent, his thoughts insistent. Listen to me, goddamn it. You need to stop. Now is not the time for this.
But she’s leaving! Jon sent back, glaring at him. She’s fucking leaving, Wreg! When would be a good goddamned time, exactly?
Wreg shook his head perceptibly.
Not now, brother. You need to control
yourself, or this will go worse for her. For all of us, if she loses control of her light. Wreg’s voice turned threatening, even as he continued to pulse warmth at Jon’s aleimi, fighting to calm him down. You are not helping her right now, ilyo. I know you’re trying, but now is not the time. Trust me on this. You need to stop. We will try to speak to her later, when she’s rational again. When she can hear us. Na?
Jon opened his mouth, but another voice interceded.
He’s right, Balidor sent.
Startled, Jon turned, meeting the Adhipan seer’s gaze.
Once he had, he flinched, lost in the expression in those light gray eyes, in the handsome, human-like features of the middle-aged seer.
Balidor looked…
Gods, he looked defeated.
Like really and truly defeated.
Jon had never seen the Adhipan leader look like that before. Not even when things had been at their bleakest, back when they were with Revik in San Francisco. Balidor hadn’t looked like that when Allie took off for China by herself––or when Cass had all but killed her.
Maybe the mere fact of seeing the Adhipan leader look like that was enough to shut Jon up. Whatever the reason, he found himself backing off, even as his own light seethed around him in a sharper coil of fear and frustration.
He fought to control it, but he couldn’t do that either.
So… what? Jon addressed both of them that time, feeling the defeat bleeding into his own light. He fought it, but couldn’t push it back. We just let her leave? Let her go to the United States, probably get herself killed by SCARB or the U.S. military? And we let Revik, what? Commit suicide in Singapore?
There was another silence.
That one felt heavier.
Wreg and Balidor exchanged a look.
Did you know this was coming? Wreg asked the Adhipan seer. All of those private sessions with you and Nenz and the old woman… what did he want? Was it about this?
Balidor shrugged with one hand, barely perceptible.
Jon wondered why he bothered to hide it. Allie seemed pretty damned oblivious to them. He watched her stare over the edge of the building in the direction of the afternoon sun, focusing on something that probably didn’t even exist.
Wherever she was, she wasn’t with them.
Did I know this was coming? Balidor sent bitterly. That the Sword would leave his wife and daughter on some fucking martyr quest to negotiate with Shadow? He exhaled, his thoughts openly angry. No, brothers, I did not. Perhaps I should have known. I can see hints of that in what he wanted from me now. Perhaps I should have seen the signs for what they were, but I did not. Nor do I think anything we taught him will keep him alive. If he thinks he can infiltrate Shadow on his own, when it is so obvious why he would try to do such a thing now, he is deluding himself massively. Both of them are.
He motioned towards Allie with his chin.
Jon flinched, hearing and feeling the implications behind his words.
You think she knew he would do this? Jon sent. Allie?
Turning, Balidor met Jon’s gaze, his lips twisting into a scowl.
Knew? he sent, his thoughts harder. Perhaps. Suspected? I would say definitely. From her reaction alone, I believe Alyson must have guessed what her husband intended. Even beyond how she is behaving now, there have been other things. For weeks. From both of them. His anger flared hotter. I knew something was wrong. I knew there was something neither of them were telling me. I’m a gods-damned fool for ignoring all of it––
Like what? Jon sent. What things did you notice?
Balidor gave him another hard look.
Then, clicking under his breath, the Adhipan seer shook his head.
It does not matter. Not anymore. Suffice it to say, I should have paid closer attention. I should not have assumed this was something I could address with them at a later date.
Looking directly at Wreg, Balidor added, sharper,
But I do not think this is denial or disbelief, brothers. I agree that trying to reason with her will do absolutely no good right now… but she knew this was coming. She fucking planned for it, if I am reading her light correctly. Her liaison with Chandre the other day may even have been an attempt to blackmail her husband out of what he intended to do.
He gave another of those subtle shrugs, his eyes cold.
If so, clearly it did not work. But I am not seeing surprise on her, my brothers. Not in the slightest. I am seeing a mate grieving the loss of her partner––but there is no denial or confusion in her light about what has occurred.
Jon’s fingers clenched on the table.
He turned over Balidor’s words, fighting to think, to even make sense of them. He found himself in agreement, though––even without knowing what Balidor knew.
Allie wasn’t surprised.
Whatever the hell was going on with her right now, surprise wasn’t a part of it.
Balidor was right. She’d at least suspected this was coming.
Seeing the bitterness in Balidor’s eyes and his light, Jon realized Balidor thought it was more than that, though. Still thinking about the seer’s words, he followed the Adhipan leader’s gaze to Allie’s face.
Was he right about all of it? Had Allie known this was coming? Not just suspected but actually known Revik would do it?
Was she in on it somehow? Was this something she and Revik decided together?
It would explain everything and nothing.
Balidor was definitely right about one thing: she’d been acting strange for weeks. Both her and Revik. The fact that they hadn’t been sleeping together only compounded that strangeness. But why would she ever agree to something like this? Had Revik threatened her, in some twisted attempt to save her and their daughter’s lives?
Then again, did he need to threaten her?
Their very lives were interdependent.
Lily’s life was now dependent on theirs, as well. Revik had the ultimate bargaining chip with his wife, even beyond how they felt about one another.
Allie herself just implied Revik had done it to protect Lily. It was the only thing that felt remotely plausible. It was also the only thing that might explain how Allie was reacting to all of this––how she’d been behaving for weeks now. Ever since Dubai, really.
Revik must have given her no choice.
He’d forced her to go along with this, thinking it was the only way to keep Lily safe. It would be maddeningly like him to do it. It fit Revik’s m.o. with his loved ones––along with his never-ending willingness to stake himself to a cross to help those he deemed more worthy of life and love than himself.
Jon’s jaw clenched, right before Balidor spoke into their minds again.
As for what he wanted in those training sessions, brother, the Adhipan seer continued, his thoughts colder as he glanced at Jon. What the fuck do you think he wanted? He wanted Tarsi and I to help him get rid of the trigger. He wanted me to teach him to shield so he could keep that dugra a’ kitre child-fucker out of his gods-damned light.
Jon winced, glancing at Balidor in surprise.
The Adhipan leader rarely swore.
He never swore like that.
If Balidor heard him, he barely gave Jon a glance.
We knew it was about Lily and Allie, even then, Balidor sent, thoughts angry. He asked me to teach him all the things Allie learned when she infiltrated him at that u’hatre davos Rebel compound in China––along with a few tricks Tarsi designed after we mapped that construct in New York. He had us do everything we could to activate that fucking trigger in his light too, to see if we could replicate what that shit-fuck, Menlim, had done to him in Dubai…
Jon winced again.
He didn’t look at Balidor that time, though.
Why the secrecy? Wreg sent.
Jon glanced at his mate.
Wreg’s dark eyes were focused, intense, infiltrator-sharp as he looked at Balidor. It struck Jon that Wreg intended to milk this talkative mood of Balidor’s for all it was worth.<
br />
Even as Jon thought it, Wreg added, Was it really about some inner-circle leak that Feigran warned the Bridge about? Or was there more to it?
Balidor exhaled, emanating a darker, more complex set of emotions.
I don’t know, he sent, making a vague gesture with his hand. I think so, yes. And if it reassures you, brother, I’m not in any way sure he trusted me, either.
What makes you say that? Jon sent.
Balidor glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.
Instead of answering his question, he only shrugged, using the hand that lay on the wooden table not far from a porcelain cup filled with black coffee. The coffee had to be cold by now, Jon thought. It didn’t look like Balidor had even touched it.
I suspect he chose me because I had no prior history with Menlim, Balidor sent, addressing Wreg as if Jon hadn’t spoken. I think after Dubai we were all on the potential enemies list, my brother. Me. You. Jon. The Children of the Bridge. The ex-Rebels and ex-Seven. The Adhipan as a whole. Tarsi didn’t seem to have his full confidence anymore, either.
Balidor shrugged, pausing before adding,
Perhaps his own wife had made that list by the end.
You think she had? Wreg pressed.
Clicking, Balidor sighed. I honestly do not know. I know they were fighting a lot. And that he refused to sleep with her, until last night. He would not do it without others present… and she was not happy about this.
Wasn’t that just a security thing? Jon said, skeptical.
Balidor gave him a look. There were ways around that, my brother, he said. The Sword chose not to pursue any of those other ways. He would not even discuss it.
Jon shook his head, still skeptical, even if he couldn’t articulate to himself why exactly.
He remembered something else.
He was pretty pissed off about Chandre, he pointed out. Did you hear about what he did in that downstairs restaurant? How he went after her?
When neither answered, Jon looked between them, adding,
I was there. He dragged her out of a booth and hit her––in the face. I haven’t seen him that pissed off since San Francisco. It took me and Declan getting between them to get him to back down. He was shouting at her. He threatened her, too.
Jon frowned when neither of them answered.
Dragon: Bridge & Sword: The Final War (Bridge & Sword Series Book 9) Page 18