Since Revik, Jon and Maygar were more tightly connected to Allie’s telekinetic structures, and more tightly connected to her, they might also have inadvertently tied her more closely to her own structures.
Meaning, in a way she might actually be able to use them.
It occurred to Jon a few seconds later that the same thing must have already occurred to Revik, given how warily he watched her now.
Balidor and Wreg must have wondered the same thing.
Looking at the three of them, Jon found himself thinking they were afraid of her. They looked at her the way everyone used to look at Revik when his emotions exploded out of control.
Even as he thought it, Jon saw Wreg reach for something hidden under his coat. He did it subtly, barely seeming to move his hands at all. Instead, he shifted his body sideways to reveal whatever hung there, or maybe so his hands could find it.
He did it when Allie once more had her back to him.
Jon scarcely glimpsed the handle of the rifle before Wreg pulled it silently and seamlessly up from where it lay hidden behind dark folds of cloth. Jon recognized the muzzle as belonging to the same style of trank gun they’d used on Revik more than once, as well as on Ditrini.
Wreg did the whole thing as silently as a ghost, almost before Jon could track the movement with his eyes and light.
Even so, Allie felt it. She turned her head, sharp.
Before Jon could fully react, light pulsed out, leaving hers in a hot, white flash behind the Barrier. The intensity made Jon flinch, even as he half-rose to his feet, suddenly terrified, scared out of his mind, although he didn’t think about why until it was over.
But Allie didn’t hurt Wreg.
In that bare half-second, Wreg simply no longer held the rifle.
Something ripped the gun right out of his muscular hands, hands that Jon happened to know from personal experience had a pretty full-on grip. Jerking sideways, that same rifle disappeared down the darkness of the corridor, past where Jon could see. Still standing there, panting, Jon flinched with everyone else when the same rifle slammed loudly into a wall, somewhere on the other side, echoing down the hall.
Allie faced Wreg, her hands clenched.
Wreg held up a hand, too, his dark eyes wary. He lowered his head and face, so that both lay below hers. Jon watched Wreg signal an apology, even as Jon himself stood there, fighting to remain where he was, to decide what to do.
“Princess... I apologize...” Wreg said.
She continued to stare at him.
Jon saw Wreg flinch, as if something happened to his light outside of where Jon could see. Even so, through his connection to Wreg, Jon flinched too, feeling a shot of purely-instinctive fear, sharp enough and strong enough that his heart beat wildly in his chest, jackknifing painfully against his ribs. Jon stepped towards the two of them, barely conscious he’d done it, not even knowing what he intended to do...
But just as hard and fast as it hit, that feeling of danger was gone.
Allie was staring at Revik again, her eyes glowing a pale, vibrant green.
She glared up at his angular face. She must have said something to him, or shown him something again, because Revik shook his head.
“No,” he said. He shook his head again, adamant, but Jon could hear the fear in his voice now. It nearly shook. “Please, baby. I need you to listen to me...”
Her eyes narrowed, even as anger filled her expression.
More images slammed Jon’s mind. Like last time, they surfaced without warning, and he couldn’t block them out. Color, light and emotion erupted behind his eyes, blotting out the surrounding room. Before Jon could sit down, before he could even make sense of what he was seeing, sensation hit his light in a dense flood, bringing up a hard flush of pain, strong enough that it made him step back, nearly crying out.
He gasped aloud before he could stop himself, raising a hand to his forehead, sitting back on the metal seat. He clamped his eyes shut as he tried to block the images out. He couldn’t block it out, though, and from the sounds and curses he heard around him, no one else could, either.
Jon saw Allie on her knees in front of Wreg, then astride Balidor, and with––
“Stop it!” Revik snarled. “Gods damn it... stop! Alyson! Stop!”
The images faded at once.
Jon opened his eyes, still panting.
The sickness continued to nearly cripple his mind, blotting out rational thought. He was hard, but grief overwhelmed him, making it hard to do anything but sit there, wanting to rip out any part of himself that could feel.
Without meaning too, his eyes shifted to Wreg’s.
The other seer wasn’t looking at him, though. Jon stared in disbelief when he took in Wreg’s face. He saw the pain standing out starkly in Wreg’s light, his nearly-black eyes focused on Allie’s naked body where it faced away from him. Those same eyes looked nearly glassed. Jon watched Wreg’s gaze run down the length of her, almost as if outside of his control. Taking in the expression on the older seer’s face, an uncontrollable rage exploded out of Jon’s light, more intense than anything he’d felt in weeks... maybe months... maybe ever.
Pain rose with that rage, a desire to hurt someone else like nothing he’d ever felt, even the times he’d been jealous of Wreg before. He gripped the edges of the metal seat, maybe to keep himself in it... maybe to give his hands something to do so that they wouldn’t wrap around the ex-rebel’s tattooed neck.
Forcing his eyes off the other man, Jon glared at Allie before he’d thought about whether that made any sense, either. Fury pulsed out of him, an anger he couldn’t remember ever feeling towards her. Seeing Wreg’s eyes shift to his, seeing the startled expression reflected there, Jon could only stare at the floor, then back at Allie, then at the floor again.
It didn’t much matter. Allie wasn’t looking at him, either.
And Jon wasn’t the only one who was angry.
Revik stood there, panting, his hands clenched in fists as he faced off with her. When his voice exploded out of him next, every seer in the room jumped, as if smacked with his light.
“What the fuck was that?” he snarled at her.
Allie’s eyes didn’t flinch. She stared at him, her mouth a hard line in her face.
“You’re threatening me?” Revik said, his voice cold. “Really, wife?”
Jon hadn’t heard Revik call her that, either, not since they’d found her in that coma in their mother’s old bedroom.
Whatever he called her, it didn’t seem to make any difference to her expression. She stared up at him, her face utterly unmoving.
“What if I did the same?” Revik said, his voice soft, but colder still.
Her hand went up, her palm facing out.
She didn’t touch him, but something, some hard force shoved him backwards.
Jon blinked, his jaw dropping as Revik stumbled, losing his balance enough that he nearly fell. He didn’t fall, though, and after he regained his balance he straightened back to his full height, staring at Allie in disbelief.
She took two more steps into the room, her hands clenched in fists, just as his had been, and he backed away from her, as if she were some kind of dangerous animal, nearly stumbling again in his effort to give her enough room.
Allie barely seemed to notice. She continued to glare up at him, her eyes glowing sharper even in the greater light of the main room, her expression still exuding that pale fury, even inside the denser colors of those darker-green eyes.
Jon watched her along with the rest of them, unmoving, barely breathing.
She’d just used her telekinesis on Revik. She’d done it right in front of all of them, almost as if they weren’t there at all.
Jon couldn’t think about that for long, either.
More images slammed him out of that dark.
Jon clamped his eyes shut again but he couldn’t block them that time, either. These images were more complex, less visceral, but somehow hit him harder, in that same bull’s-eye
of vulnerable light, right in the middle of his chest.
Jon saw flashes of her walking out of the Victorian house, leaving San Francisco, leaving Revik. Jon saw the rooms being empty when Revik and the rest of them got back. He saw Wreg knocked out on the floor, Balidor, too. He saw her barefoot in the park, swimming in the ocean, riding in cars once outside the quarantine zone...
Jon gasped again, feeling a stab of pain, that time off Revik. That pain worsened in the pause after the images faded, as the full extent of their meaning sank in...
...but the images changed again. That time, Jon saw images from their wedding, in the dining room of that restaurant in Central Park.
That pain in Jon’s chest sharpened more, bringing tears abruptly, shockingly, when it hit him what she was showing them. She was showing them those few moments when they’d made vows to one another, in front of Tarsi and their Aunt Carol and all the rest of them...
“Fuck you,” Revik snarled. “That’s not relevant here... not now...”
The images faded abruptly to black.
That time, when Jon looked at Allie, she was shaking as she stood before Revik. Jon thought at first she might be crying, or upset, but when he saw her face and the pulses coming off her light, all he could feel was fury. Dense, unbridled, unreasonable and totally irrational fury.
“So those are my options?” Revik snapped. “You fuck other men, or you leave me?”
She stomped her foot, hard, glaring at him.
Again, images of Allie wearing armor flooded Jon’s mind, of Allie sitting on the plane with him, Allie standing beside him on Fifth Avenue, holding––
“No!” Revik snapped, stomping his own foot. “No, goddamn it! No!”
She shoved at him with her light again, and he gasped, panting as he stared at her.
Once again, Jon saw images of her in armor, images of her on the plane, on the helicopter after the plane, on the streets of––
“Stop it!” Revik shouted. “Stop! Fuck, Alyson... I get the goddamned point...”
Revik seemed at a loss that time, though, Jon realized.
His voice even sounded confused.
His anger lost some of its punch, right before that pain in his light intensified, blending with those gold streamers of light until Jon could scarcely tell them apart, could scarcely make sense of what he was seeing.
Revik’s face reflected grief, confusion, an overt frustration. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that profusion of feelings either, because eventually he looked away from those glowing green eyes, the almost complete lack of expression in her high-cheekboned face.
Revik stared around at all of them, his jaw clenched, then back at Allie, before he finally looked at Balidor, then Wreg himself. Raising a hand to his forehead, Revik covered his eyes then, standing there and staring at the floor under his fingers.
“Why, Allie?” His voice sounded close to breaking that time. He swallowed, shaking his head without looking at her. “Gods. I’m trying to protect you...”
She stomped her foot again, gesturing at him angrily.
“I know what we said––” he growled.
But Allie stomped her bare foot again before he could go on. That time, instead of the hardwood, she stomped on the padded mat of the main floor, but it had roughly the same effect. Before he could speak again, she cut him off by stomping again, gesturing another, more vehement ‘no’ in the air with one pale hand.
Jon saw Revik’s jaw harden more.
“Allie. Wife...” he began. “Please. Let me do this...”
She gestured another no in the air.
“Allie... I know you’re in charge...”
She gestured yet another no, and he let his voice trail.
That spark of energy around Allie’s light flared out yet again, right before more images resumed. This time they were of Allie with other seers, seers Jon had seen in the bars here, seers who’d been recruited from the lists... seers who would be less likely to say no than Balidor or Wreg might be, given their relationship to her and to Revik and to Jon and whoever else. Seers who would be more than happy to accept favors from the Bridge, especially given what the Lao Hu had taught her about––
“Stop it,” Revik snapped. His voice shook. “Alyson! I get the fucking message!”
The images faded at once.
There was a pause, then that first set of images resurfaced.
That time, they had a softer quality to them.
Softer, but somehow more insistent, too...a quiet intensity and determination that Jon couldn’t help but feel, that couldn’t help but make him look at her with a less conscious flare of hope. It felt so much like her that time. Jon felt her, even if it was far away... even if it felt different than what he knew of her down here before. Layers of meaning lived there this time, along with reassurance, some message Jon couldn’t fully make sense of, even as he could glimpse pieces of it, like puzzle pieces scattered out on a table.
Out of those, Jon once again saw the image of Allie in combat gear, wearing a black shirt and pants, holding Revik’s hand, her light entwined in his.
Whatever the emotional undercurrent, Jon got the message, along with the others.
Allie intended to come with them to New York.
She would come with them, or she would make Revik regret it, and maybe make the rest of them regret it, too.
Jon didn’t feel a lot of room for compromise.
Hell, he didn’t feel any room for discussion.
Jon felt another, denser pulse of pain leave Revik’s light, enough that Jon flinched back from the other man, closing in spite of himself. Jon’s fingers clenched on his own chest a second time, but he didn’t look at Wreg, or even at Allie herself...or at Revik.
He stared at the floor until he heard Revik speak.
That time, the Elaerian’s voice sounded tired. The defeat rang audibly in every syllable, completely on the surface of his words.
“All right,” he said. He rubbed his face, exhaling in a series of sharp clicks. “All right... I will make it happen. We’ll have to leave tomorrow. I’ll need to make arrangements.”
Jon looked up, startled, in spite of himself.
It wasn’t Revik’s face that drew his eyes, however. It was Allie’s.
She continued to stare at Revik, her green eyes sharp, commanding.
“I know you’re in charge,” Revik snapped. “I said yes, didn’t I?”
That sharper edge in her eyes dimmed, but only somewhat. After another pause, Revik shook his head again.
“I won’t,” he said. “I promise I won’t... I vow it, okay? I’m not a fucking liar, despite what you keep saying...” After another pause, he looked around the room at the others. “I am vowing to my wife I won’t drug her and leave her behind,” he said, his voice short. “I am fucking vowing I will bring her to New York... all right? Is everyone clear on that?”
The seers still seated in metal folding chairs nodded to him nervously, gesturing affirmations even as they shifted uneasily, glancing at Allie. Jon saw smiles on a few faces, but those looked more nervous than amused, too. Even so, they were careful to hide those smiles from Revik.
Another silence fell as Allie seemed to be speaking to him again.
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Revik repeated, his voice warning once more. “I need to make arrangements... change a few things. All right?”
Allie folded her arms in front of her bare chest. Jon saw her let out what looked like a relieved exhale, right before a calmer look began to smooth her expression, taking away that sharper bite he’d seen in her eyes and light.
Once it had, Revik exhaled too, clicking to himself softly.
“Fine. I’m bringing Balidor then,” Revik muttered, shaking his head. More than anything, he sounded tired now, almost as if he were thinking aloud. “...And Wreg. Fuck.” His frown deepened as he stared at the floor. “We should just pack up. There’s no reason to leave anyone here, if we’re doing it this way. We have to move inla
nd, anyway.”
Allie didn’t move, other than to watch Revik as he reacted in front of her. She didn’t change expression, but remained where she was, her light exuding a pale warmth Jon could almost feel, even from where he sat with the others.
In any case, she seemed to know Revik was in planning mode again, no longer arguing with her but trying to figure out logistics.
Jon stared between the two of them, still in shock at what he’d just witnessed.
He couldn’t tear his eyes off Allie herself, not caring any more how inappropriate it might be, considering how she looked, even with her long, dark hair covered a fair bit of her front torso. Jon couldn’t comprehend in any way the blank and yet totally present expressions he saw flickering through those jade-green eyes. She just stood there, completely unselfconsciously, not wearing a stitch of clothing.
As Jon watched her, a faint, almost happy smile slowly warmed the edges of her lips.
He supposed that made sense, too. She’d gotten what she wanted.
Something in the expression reminded Jon briefly of Tarsi, although he couldn’t have said what that was, either, not precisely.
When Jon glanced at Revik next, he saw a kind of frustrated relief in his eyes, too, mixed with something like exasperation as he stared at his wife. As Allie continued to smile at him, however, Jon saw that relief slide back into a darker anger.
“Now go put on some fucking clothes,” Revik growled. “Or I’m changing my goddamned mind... and locking you in the basement until I get back!”
There was a silence.
It didn’t occur to Jon until that exact moment that Allie hadn’t spoken a single word, not one since she’d come into the room, despite the intensity of her back and forth with Revik.
Even so, and despite that faraway look that still lived in her green eyes as the silence stretched, she did the last thing Jon would have expected.
She laughed.
10
SHAME
REVIK LEANED BACK in the seat, trying to get comfortable, mainly by rearranging his long legs in the space between his seat and the one in front of him. Nothing initially designed for human public transport ever fit him.
Allie's War Season Four Page 20