She paused to murmur a prayer under her breath. She closed her eyes as she sent it to the Sword with all of her being. She thanked Father Salinse as well, for caring for them all these years.
She didn’t see the Lao Hu infiltrator when she first entered the room.
“Put it down!” the female seer said in accented Prexci. She raised her gun. Her partner, a male wearing an identical black sash, raised his, too. “Now, traitor! On the floor!”
Sliding the barrel in her mouth, Nikka closed her eyes.
Before the Lao Hu seer could shout out again, Nikka pulled the trigger.
47
BITCH
I SAT IN the wide, plush seat of a private plane.
Staring out an oval portal, I fought the pain that had already started to worsen. I’d almost forgotten how bad it could get. I knew this was only a taste, the faintest preview of what would be in store for both of us once we were separated for real.
I knew he sat in the back, somewhere.
I wondered what made him decide to come along for the flight. Morbid toying with the end, perhaps. Or maybe he was like me, holding on like I was, in the only ways left open to him, even knowing it was already over between us.
I’d known what he would say, once he found out what I’d been doing. I didn’t know what he thought about my reasons, but I had to assume he believed what he’d said in the mulei ring that day, or something very near along those lines. My telling him I had feelings for Balidor only sealed it.
Ironically, it was Galaith who’d warned me about Revik, via the diaries he’d left.
He’d written that no one was more loyal than Revik, that he’d never find anyone more willing to do anything––literally anything––for those to whom he gave his allegiance. He’d written that it took a lot to break that oath, once it had been given.
He’d also written that once someone had betrayed Revik… really betrayed him… Revik was nearly incapable of forgiveness.
Revik knew now, that I’d come here to try and bring him back over.
In his eyes, that meant I was working for Balidor. In his eyes, that meant I’d used our marriage as a means of infiltrating his operation––of infiltrating him.
He would never forgive me for that. Never.
If we hadn’t been bonded, he would have killed me for it already.
I looked out the oval window at the thick white clouds beneath the plane’s wings, fighting my way through the same tired thoughts, trying to make them come out different. But it was too late for any of that now. I couldn’t second-guess any of it.
The path had already been set.
I felt sick, heart-broken, and completely off-balance with nerves and adrenaline. It had been, in some ways, the longest six months of my life, but I knew the larger part of me wished there was some way I could have kept it going. Those same parts of me wished I’d kept my mouth shut, that I’d agreed to stay with him, found some way to compromise between us.
Balidor could have worked out the rest on his end––without me.
Some part of me wondered if I might have won him over some other way, without him ever knowing I’d lied to him. I’d already altered the construct in the compound. I wondered if I might have altered it further, especially if I let him put me in charge.
But I knew that was wishful thinking.
Revik wasn’t the only one in that compound; Salinse lived there, too.
In the end, the Rebels’ construct belonged to him.
Clearly, enough was enough from the old Sark’s perspective. Especially after that night with Revik in the common room. Once I’d bonded with the rest of his team, I was affecting too many of his seers. I’d changed the construct too much, and Salinse put his foot down, showing me once and for all just exactly who pulled Revik’s strings.
Forcing an exhale, I checked my watch.
Only two more hours.
I rose to my feet, rubbing my temples as I walked towards the back of the plane.
I didn’t make eye contact with any of the infiltrators I saw scattered over the remainder of the seats. Revik kept the transport op low security, which was surprising, given who I was. Wreg came along, likely for moral support. The other three infiltrators I saw were youngsters, with little field experience.
I wondered if Revik even intended to get off the plane.
I didn’t look at him directly as I passed his row of seats.
I saw him in my peripheral vision, though, working over a virtual monitor in the back row. His eyes didn’t lift from the screen, but I felt his light flinch as I walked past him to the curtained stewardess’s station behind the bathroom doors. Sliding through the gap in the heavy cloth, I nearly walked into a stewardess who was on her way out.
She stopped dead, staring at me.
“Can I get you something, Bridge?” she said stiffly.
A seer. Another youngster.
The thought should have been funny. I was a good three decades younger than any of them.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my temples. “A drink would be great. Unless you have some aspirin.”
“There’s a medical cabinet in the back,” she said curtly, pointing.
I could feel the conflict on her; she wasn’t very good at shielding. She, like most of the seers on Revik’s crew, viewed me as a traitor, of course, and an adulterer. But I was also the Bridge. To the religious, that meant I was almost above reproach.
After all, in their mythology, Revik had to listen to me.
“Why don’t you show me?” I said to her.
Hesitating again, she turned, her face showing reluctance.
I pulled more information from her as I scanned the back area.
She opened a high cabinet.
“Aspirin,” she said, her voice stiff. She pointed to the bottle and I pulled it out. Flipping off the cap with my thumb, I took two of the tablets. Popping them in my mouth, I jerked back my head, working up enough saliva to swallow them dry.
“How about that drink?” I said, grimacing a little at the taste of the bitter pills on my tongue.
Hesitating again, she turned, pulling open a different cabinet and moving around bottles.
“What do you want?” she said, her back to me.
“Bourbon,” I said. “Neat. Woodford, if you have it. Two glasses.”
She turned, staring at me.
I didn’t change expression.
Everyone on his crew knew what Revik drank, at least when he could get it. Clicking softly to herself, she reached into the back for the bottle they kept for him. She poured it into a rocks glass, and handed it to me, a little less than gracefully.
I drank it all the way down, and then thrust the empty out at her for a refill.
“Where’s my other glass?” I said, as she poured me another.
She bit her lip, hiding her anger badly. “Get it yourself,” she said.
My lips quirked in an involuntary smile, but I kept my voice calm. “Certainly, sister. How about letting me have the bottle then?”
I kept my eyes level on hers.
After a bare pause, she thrust it into my hand. When I just stood there, unmoving, she bit her lip. Finally, she seemed to get the message and turned, her light exuding anger. I waited for her to leave the staging area, then walked over to the cabinet and found another glass. Filling it well above the “polite” line, I put ice in mine, filling that one high, too.
Taking a breath, I stared down at the two glasses.
I didn’t know how to gear up for this. I really didn’t.
A minute later, I pushed through the curtain to the back of the aisle.
I stood there for another good block of seconds before he looked up.
His eyes grew incredulous when he saw me standing there. I saw his gaze flicker down to my hands, taking in the two glasses of alcohol.
I felt the eyes of others on us by then, too.
I just stood there, doing my best to keep my expression still.
When I didn’t mo
ve, he eventually looked away, his eyes mirrors. Rising from his seat, he shifted down one place so that he sat deeper in the row. I watched as he set the virtual controls on his other side, my heart hammering, loud-seeming in my chest.
Hiding my surprise as best as I could, I took the vacant seat he’d left me, and handed him the fuller glass with no ice.
He pulled his headset off, taking the glass from me without quite meeting my gaze. I watched him as he took a swallow of the bourbon.
Once he had, he let out a grunt, not quite humor.
“Woodford. Cute.”
I watched his face, but he didn’t turn.
“So this is it, then?” I felt my chest tighten as I studied his face.“Were you going to say goodbye to me, at least?”
His eyes grew colder. He didn’t answer, but I watched him take a longer drink of the whiskey, holding it in his mouth briefly before swallowing. When he lowered the glass, his eyes remained trained straight ahead.
“You should have brought the bottle, Alyson… if you wanted to have a conversation.”
I felt my chest clench into a knot.
“So, what, then?” I said. “Sworn enemies? I’ll see you on the battlefield, bitch?”
His jaw hardened more.
I felt a glimmer of pain off him, but he still didn’t turn.
“What do you want from me, Alyson?” He swirled the whiskey as he stared at the glass. “You made your choice. You made it before you got here.”
“Can you look at me, at least?”
I felt him wince. After a beat of pause, he turned. His clear eyes held more than I had been prepared to face. I found myself staring at them, briefly lost, and then I had to fight not to touch him.
“Revik.” My vision blurred, and I saw him look away again. “Can we at least talk about this? What if you came with me for awhile? What if you spent six months with me?”
He shook his head, his voice cold. “Not interested, Alyson.”
“Why not?”
He turned, looking at me. I felt him fighting to control his light.
“Why not?” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re going to play the innocent card now? Jesus, Allie. Why the fuck do you think?”
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t get any of it out.
“Revik,” I managed. “That’s not what—”
“I’ve got to congratulate you, Alyson,” he said. “Although I guess I was a pretty easy mark. Especially after that stunt your boyfriend pulled, nearly killing me.” He took a longer drink of the bourbon. “Gods. I would have believed anything after that, wouldn’t I? Running off to China, thinking I was saving your life—”
“Revik, you can’t possibly believe––”
He turned, staring at me. Seeing the coldness in his eyes, I fell silent.
“Allie.” His voice softened, carrying a metallic edge. “The thing with a con is, once you get caught, you need to stop conning. To keep going with it just makes you look unprofessional.” His eyes hardened. “…Or like you have nothing but contempt for the mark. Either way, it’s tacky, love.”
I bit back anger. “So you really think these last five months were just me pulling some kind of intelligence game, or—”
“I could have spent less on a whore for that amount of time,” he cut in. “…and probably gotten more genuine feeling out of them.”
I gripped the armrests. He wanted me to rise.
He wanted me to get up, to walk away, or at least start shouting at him, but I wasn’t going to do either. I watched him lift the glass again, taking a longer drink. He was more than halfway through it now. I was running out of time.
“That’s not how it was,” I said, forcing my voice even. “You know it wasn’t. Even now, you must at least know I—”
“Alyson.” His eyes swiveled to mine, holding so much anger I flinched. “You tell me you love me right now and I’ll break your fucking neck… bond or no.”
When he looked away again, I forced myself to exhale, pressing my lips together. For a long moment, I could only stare at his hands.
He wasn’t wearing my father’s ring.
“So that’s it?” I said. He’d almost finished the whiskey, and I knew once he had, the conversation was over. “What do you plan to do about the bond? Torture me for awhile, sticking your dick in half of Asia… then what?”
He shrugged, staring at the back of the seat in front of him. “Maybe the Dreng will have more luck severing us than your Adhipan boyfriend.”
I couldn’t believe I’d heard him right.
“What?” I said.
His eyes swiveled to mine, flickering faintly with sparks of pale green light. He just looked at me for a moment, gauging my reaction.
“Let’s hope they can, Alyson,” he said softly. “For both of our sakes.”
I held his gaze. When he didn’t lower his, I nodded.
“Doesn’t that mean you’d just kill me?” I said.
He didn’t answer, but I saw his jaw harden.
Eventually, I had to look away. It was too late. And I didn’t have it in me to spar with him. Not anymore.
“Revik,” I said finally. “Please come stay with me. Please.”
He didn’t answer. I don’t know if he even heard me.
I was trying to decide what to say next, what to do, when I realized his light had begun to shift. Barely a second passed before I looked over at him, holding my breath.
That time, he returned my gaze. I saw his eyes grow almost bright, just before they fogged.
Then, briefly, I saw him putting it together.
Understanding stood there, prominent in his eyes. Right before they flickered to the empty glass he still clutched in one hand.
Fear rippled my light.
Before he could call out to the others, I clamped a shield around his aleimi, cutting him off from the rest of the construct.
I saw disbelief in his eyes.
It rapidly turned into something else.
Hatred shone there. A hatred so intense, so filled with violence, I flinched. He reached out with one hand, already moving slow, as if through a substance thicker than water. He grabbed hold of my shoulder. His fingers clenched until they hurt.
I held the shield around him—tighter as his hand tightened, gripping his arm.
His light slammed against the shield. Even barely conscious, he hit at me hard enough to scare the hell out of me. I looked around, but none of the other seers were looking at us now. None of them felt his attempts to reach them through the shield.
He continued to slam against my light––but already, the attacks had begun to weaken. He got out one last sharp, intense hit, hard enough to shudder my entire body.
My shield held, miraculously.
If he’d figured it out, even a few seconds earlier…
But I couldn’t think about that now.
His eyes were closing. His hand loosened on my shoulder.
He was still fighting it, I could feel it, but I’d put enough tranquilizer in his glass to down a couple of horses. Enough to scare me I might kill him––or put him in a coma. Emptying out six of those darts I’d seen Wreg and the others use when we broke into the mainframe that day, I’d shoved them in my jacket pocket in a stoppered vial over a week earlier.
I’d been sure they’d frisk me before the flight, but they hadn’t.
Apparently I wasn’t much of a threat in their eyes, at least not with Revik on board.
I knew him. I knew the normal dose would never be close to enough. They’d told me they had to calibrate special doses for him, when tranking him as an infiltrator. That was even before he got back the part of him that was Syrimne.
And anyway, if it was too much, both of our problems were over.
Really, a good chunk of humanity’s problems were over, too.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” I murmured in his ear.
I felt the last of his consciousness leave him.
Leaning him against the back of the seat, I felt ov
er his person. Taking the two guns I found, along with the folding knife he’d carried in his back pocket for as long as I’d known him, I stuck the knife and one of the guns in my jacket pocket.
The other gun I checked the safety on, then set in my lap.
Swallowing thickly, I pulled the other thing I’d brought with me out of my jacket pocket. Hands shaking, I opened the collar wide enough to get it around his neck.
Pulling him forward a little, I leaned over the back of his shoulders, triggering the thumbnail switch to activate the retinal scanner. The scanner ran over my eye, half blinding me as it took in my eye’s imprint. Until then, I’d never even used one of them before.
The red light clicked off.
I saw him wince as the teeth dug into his neck.
His expression hardened. I saw pain flicker across his face, an anger that closed my throat. Caressing his jaw and neck, I fought back another surge of pain, and realized I was crying, that my hands were shaking.
I couldn’t feel him. I couldn’t feel him at all.
Clasping his hands, I sat there, paralyzed for a moment.
He would kill me for this. If he’d hated me before, this would put me so far over the line that I really would be the enemy. Maybe forever.
I was still sitting there, trying to pull my head back from what I’d just done, when a voice behind me jerked my eyes and neck around, making me jump.
“What the fucking hell did you do?”
Wreg stood there, his face holding a shock so profound, his expression so completely horrified that I froze. He stared at the collar on Revik’s neck. His gaze shifted to Revik’s closed eyes, the glass on the floor, the expression on my face.
“You goddamned evil bitch!”
He reached into his coat. Feeling the gun there, I didn’t think.
Holding out a hand, I unfurled my light.
It slammed into his body, knocking him off his feet. I hardly blinked… then he crashed inelegantly into the next row of seats.
His fingers loosed on the gun, sending it clattering to the floor.
Regaining my feet, I extended the shield over him, taking over the construct protecting the plane. I’d mapped it out over the first few hours of flying time, and now my aleimi slid through the different pathways even as I kept the bulk of my consciousness on Wreg. I gripped the gun I’d been holding in my lap, holding my hand up towards the seers standing up in the front seats of the plane, their mouths open in shock.
Sword Page 54