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Prophet: Bridge & Sword

Page 29

by JC Andrijeski


  He reacted to her touch a lot differently than he had to Mika’s.

  Reaching up, he clasped her hair in his hand, letting out a low sound, before he knew he intended to do either thing. He started to pull her mouth to his, lost in her light where it wrapped into his, pretty much the second she sat near him.

  She stopped him, clasping his wrist with her free hand.

  “Drink first,” she told him.

  Loki looked up at her face.

  He focused on her mouth before he forced his eyes closed. He could feel her light winding into his even more now, could practically hear the heart beating in her chest.

  Still, he didn’t miss the import of her words. Nor did his mind stop reading as much into that word “first” as he possibly could.

  “I am not…” He struggled for words. “This is not usual for me, either, cousin,” he told her, knowing how lame it probably sounded, and perhaps insincere.

  He got a smile for that.

  It made his erection worse––a lot worse.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, her New York accent growing audible in her voice. “I bet you’re just a saint, normally, right?”

  He didn’t answer, but felt his own face warm.

  She held the straw to his mouth, and he took it between his lips, glad of the distraction, the excuse to look away from her. Sucking the liquid through the straw, he couldn’t help feeling the relief that flooded his system at the coolness of the water on his tongue.

  He drank for probably a full minute, if not two. He felt her eyes on his face the whole time he did it, although he refused to look at her now, at least until he’d drunk his fill.

  “Who are you?” she said, as he came up for breath. “Do we know each other?”

  He paused before answering, taking another short drink before another few breaths.

  Fighting to think, he focused on the shape of his feet under the thin blanket. Then, giving himself more time to think about her question, he drank more, feeling his body relax deeper into the mattress the longer he did. He found himself wondering if Mika had put vitamins in the water, or some other form of sustenance, and found himself thinking that she or one of the other seers probably did.

  Eventually, though, he ran out of room in his body.

  By then, the large, wide-necked container was more than half-empty.

  Realizing his stomach was full, he released the straw with his mouth, letting out a slow exhale as he rested his head back on the pillow.

  When he looked up at her that time, her dark eyes were on his chest.

  For the first time, he noticed his chest was bare, or close to it, with the sheets covering him only to the upper part of his abdomen. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed that when it had been Mika who was touching him.

  He waited for the human to finish her appraisal, reacting to her stare even when he refused to let himself stare back, either at her body or her face.

  He knew he was muscular, both from extensive mulei training, including with the Sword, and from the training he’d been doing with Wreg and the others for the past few weeks, readying himself for full-time field work. Even so, her stare caught him off guard, as did the flickers of appreciation he felt off her light.

  He hadn’t really thought about how his body looked in anything but a practical sense for years.

  He felt her liking his body. He felt her liking it a lot.

  He forced that out of his mind, too.

  “You don’t know me,” he blurted, answering her question finally, but still without looking at her. “I assuredly don’t know you. Meeting you is not something I would have forgotten,” he added, again speaking through nerves.

  His feeble attempt to flirt made him wince, pretty much the instant he said it, but she glanced up at his words, smiling at him again.

  Something about that sideways smile, the knowing, almost cynical look that came to her eyes, turned him on, too. She looked like a fighter to him. She might not call herself such, or think of herself as such, but he could feel it, in her light. Her life had not been easy. She was a human who had known hardships, who had overcome them without losing herself.

  He admired that. He admired it a lot.

  But gods––he was staring at her again. Almost without noticing it, this time.

  “So what now?” she said, resettling her rear and legs on the bed next to him. “Do you want to know more about me? Or do you think you know it all already?”

  Her words came out teasing, but he could hear the real question there.

  He shook his head. “I know very little. Nothing, really.”

  His fingers found hers once more, cautiously, when she rested her hands in her lap. She looked down at where he wound his hand around one of hers. He felt heat in her light, and his pain came back stronger, especially now that his body felt less weak. A rush of feeling and desire clenched in a hard ball in his chest, making it briefly difficult to breathe. He knew if he’d been in better shape physically, he would likely be trying to do a lot more than hold her hand. As it was, he forced himself to just lay there, watching her look at their entwined fingers.

  After another long-feeling pause, she let out a sigh.

  He felt enough surrender in that exhale that his pain sharpened.

  “So what now?” she said. As if still thinking somewhere in the background, she let out a low chuckle. “I’m thinking about sex. I’m pretty sure you’re thinking about sex.” She glanced down at his body, reddening a little, making his pain spike. “Is this a seer thing? To want to get down and dirty with a complete stranger?”

  His face heated more.

  She didn’t let him off the hook when he remained silent.

  “So what is this thing?” she said, a little sharper. “Is this a crush? The seer version?”

  Thinking about her words, he nodded, conceding her meaning reluctantly.

  Some part of him didn’t want it reduced to a “thing” of any kind, but he couldn’t deny the more general truth to what she’d said.

  He was still trying to decide what to say to her, when she released his hand. He was about to protest, or maybe try to explain this to her in some way, at least how he saw it, when she leaned over him on the bed. Propping her hands on the pillow, just above his shoulders and to either side of his head, she looked down into his eyes. With their faces only a few inches apart, she frowned, studying his expression.

  “Tell me something about you,” she said.

  It sounded more like a command than a request.

  “I was born in Afghanistan,” he said. Feeling his face warm at the ridiculousness of his response, he forced a seer’s shrug, not quite meeting her eyes. “I am an infiltrator. A soldier. I work for the Sword. Through him, the Bridge.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, blowing at her rough cut bangs in impatience. “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Have you been married?”

  “No, cousin.”

  “Why do you call me cousin?”

  “Because you are human. I am seer.”

  That thoughtful look still in her eyes, she nodded. He could feel she’d half-expected that answer, but wanted it confirmed.

  Adjusting her weight on her hands, she focused back on his face. Her cheeks turned pinker, but he felt her resolve underneath, her wanting to know. Hoping it might help her, he made his light more submissive, more open to hers––but it worsened his pain almost at once, causing him to shift under her on the bed.

  “Do seers actually date?” she said. “Or do you just screw around, like all the feeds say?”

  At his silence, she hesitated, biting her lip.

  Loki found himself staring at that lip and the white teeth that teased it, feeling his pain worsen, coursing through his body like liquid.

  “Because I’ve heard you mostly just fuck like rabbits,” she added, maybe to break the silence. “But you knew that already, right? What humans think?”

  “We… date,” he said. “We ar
e mostly monogamous, truthfully.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, pursing her lips. “Really? So why does everyone say the exact opposite about seers? Because I’ve been hearing that since I was a kid. From everyone,” she repeated, still watching his face.

  He looked up at her, lost briefly in those dark eyes.

  “You’ve heard wrong,” he told her. “You’ve likely met people who’ve only experienced seers as slaves. It is not…” He fought for words, then shook his head, clicking softly. “Those seers are not allowed to be in relationships. Not with anyone but their owners.”

  His words didn’t offend her. She seemed to think about them instead, watching his face.

  “But you have casual sex, too?” she pressed.

  “Of course.”

  “So what is this, Loki?” she said, pronouncing his name carefully. “What are we doing here? Is this some kind of come on to get laid? Or is it something else?”

  “That is what you are asking me?”

  She rolled her eyes, giving a half-laugh. “Well, yeah. D’uh.”

  Loki reached up a hand, once more sliding it into her dark hair.

  He felt her flinch, but she didn’t pull away.

  When he tugged her carefully closer, raising his other hand to touch her face, he felt her body grow soft. He fought with words as he looked at her, some way to describe what was happening to their lights. He would need to teach her a lot more, first––about seers, about the Barrier, about her own light, about why such things happened between seers, and, even more rarely, between seers and humans.

  He looked up at her and thought all this.

  He decided it could wait.

  He pulled her down to him, caressing her cheek with his hand, sliding it around her jaw, then down her neck. His pain worsened as he explored her skin.

  He felt her light open to his, her fingers wrap around his shoulder, her other hand gripping his forearm where he held her. He felt her breathing quicken––in nerves, in anticipation, in desire. His pain worsened as he watched emotions flicker across her face, as he watched her try to control them.

  “You’re hurt,” she said, voice catching. “And probably doped to the gills.” She closed her eyes, longer than a blink. He heard the tremor in her voice and his cock hardened more, causing him to shift under her. “We should wait on this side of things, Loki.”

  He nodded, still caressing her skin, moving his fingers under the collar of her shirt to her shoulder and the back of her neck, which he massaged slowly, feeling her body and light react, growing even softer over his. His other hand tightened in her hair, and he felt her fingers tighten, too, where they held his bicep, clutching at him when she felt his muscle tense.

  Her hand looked so small on his arm. The contrast turned him on more, even as he felt himself winding more of his light into hers.

  “I don’t think I can wait,” he told her finally, fighting his breath.

  She laughed, and the sound went through him. He felt it in his feet.

  She pushed on his chest though, starting to disentangle herself, but he fought her with his light, not wanting to let go of her.

  “Do you not want this?” he asked her. “Is it only me you are worried about? Hurting me? Or do you not want this with me? Don’t let me push you, cousin… please. Tell me the truth, and I will leave you alone. I promise I will. You have no reason to fear me.”

  She stopped pushing at his chest, looking back at his face.

  He saw the thoughtful look return there, felt her light start to open to his again.

  He caressed the hair out of her eyes, tracing her mouth with the fingers of his other hand where he cupped her jaw in his palm. He saw her looking at his mouth, then at his eyes. He felt pain in her, enough that he let out a low sound, focusing back on her mouth. He struggled with his light to keep from pulling on her, from coaxing her into him.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me if I can kiss you.”

  “You’re hurt,” she chided him, smacking his chest lightly. “You heard what that other woman said. You know the one I mean,” she said, frowning at him. “The one who had her friggin’ hands all over you every five seconds.”

  His pain worsened, even as he ran his thumb over her mouth.

  “Were you jealous?” he said, unable to keep himself from asking.

  She didn’t answer.

  Seeing her frown, he let out another low sound, kissing her jaw.

  “She knew this might happen,” he said, softer. “It is why they left us alone. They have been teasing me about you… ever since I first saw you in that horrible place. They were teasing you, by touching me. Mika and Rex, especially.”

  “Teasing, huh?” She quirked that dark eyebrow at him.

  She was looking at him, though, and that anger had softened in her eyes.

  “Yes,” he said, feeling another hard pulse of pain. “Yes. I will introduce you to all of them, cousin, and you will see. They are not bad people… and Mika was not trying to seduce me. Seers like to tease, but I will tell them not to touch me, if you like.”

  Her smile returned.

  He saw so much warmth in her eyes and mouth that time, he pulled her mouth down to his. Kissing her carefully, he released her slightly, but she didn’t move away. He kissed her again, closing his eyes, inhaling her scent.

  “Just kissing,” he murmured against her skin. “Only that…”

  She let out a laugh, raising her head.

  “You just want to kiss,” she said, bemused. “You ask me if I’m jealous. You want to introduce me to your friends… tell them not to touch you around me.” Shaking her head, she burst out with another laugh, still giving him an incredulous look. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Loki?”

  She said it teasingly, but once he’d thought about her words, once he understood how she meant them, he found himself answering without hesitation.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I am asking that of you, Gina.”

  Her cheeks grew pink again, and his pain worsened. He found himself thinking that some of her reaction came because he’d used her given name.

  “Can I call you that?” he clarified. “Gina?”

  She nodded, still looking at him in a kind of stunned silence.

  Disbelief wafted around her light, but he felt desire on her, too––and something more. His words had touched her, somehow. They touched her in an emotional way, and as he felt denser glimmers of that, his own pain grew unbearable. Reaching up, he brushed the hair off of one of her cheekbones, caressing the skin lightly with his fingers.

  “Do you want to be my girlfriend, Gina?” he said, his voice formal that time, polite. “We can talk about the particulars, if you like…”

  He trailed, seeing that wrinkle return to that section of skin above her nose and between her eyebrows. Worried again that he was saying too much, too quickly, he reminded himself that she was human. She would not know what was happening with their light.

  She would not be used to the formalities seers engaged in to normalize such connections, either. She would not be familiar with the agreements they often made with one another to ease one another’s minds.

  She might not even be used to the intensity of a strong light connection, period, depending on her romantic history, not even with another human.

  It was unlikely, though. She’d had a child with a human.

  She might even have been married––to the father, or to someone else.

  The thought brought a thick wave of jealousy, but the other part of his mind remained relatively clear. He needed to ease her into this. He couldn’t pressure her with words any more than he could with his light, simply because he couldn’t control himself.

  Thinking about this further, he frowned.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “I am doing this wrong for you.”

  Her eyes cleared slightly at his words.

  Even so, he felt the distance she had put between them, and knew he hadn’t been wrong. A few seconds later, she
shook her head.

  “No. It’s not that. Not exactly.” Hesitating, she tilted her head, a gesture that felt almost like an admission of something. “Honestly, this all feels just fine. It’s when I stop to think about it that I realize how completely insane it is.”

  Trailing, she shook her head, staring off at the far wall.

  It occurred to him that maybe she was avoiding looking at him. When she gazed down at him next, however, her dark eyes had sharpened, as had those gold and green glints of lighter color in her irises.

  “Okay, I have another question,” she said. “When’s the last time you had a girlfriend, Loki?”

  Loki thought about that, too.

  Frowning slightly, he tried to answer her question as accurately as he could. Then he realized his answer might only make her more nervous.

  “It has been quite some time,” he admitted.

  “How long?” she pressed.

  Glancing up at her, he felt his jaw harden somewhat. “We live much longer than you,” he said, hearing the defensiveness in his own words. “I’d wish you to remember that, cousin, before you judge my answer too harshly.”

  Something about that amused her, though. She grinned at him, rubbing his forearm with one hand and distracting him all over again.

  “An older guy, huh?” she said, dark eyes teasing. “How long, lover boy?”

  “Over twenty years,” he told her, deciding to keep it at that.

  He saw her eyes widen slightly, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She’d heard the evasion behind his words, too, or must have, because she quirked her eyebrow again.

  “How much over twenty years?” she said, softer.

  He rolled his eyes, clicking at her, and she laughed, forcing him to laugh, too.

  “I answered your question,” he said, mock-scolding her. “Do not get greedy, cousin. You have enough leverage over me already, I assure you.”

  “So I guess you’re not going to tell me how old you are, either, then?” she said.

  “Absolutely not––” he began.

  She leaned down before he could get much further, and they were kissing again.

  That time, she parted her lips, and he let out a soft growl, wrapping his arm around her neck and upper back as he pulled her tightly against him.

 

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