“We’re visiting my friend,” I blurted. “My best friend from school. She married a mountie, can you believe it? He’s got a horse and everything. One of those hats! I couldn’t make the wedding, but the pictures were hilarious, so…” My face warmed. “Well, not to you, I guess.” I laughed, blushing deeper. “Well, I promised we’d visit, but my boss is a dick. You know how it is. I didn’t want him to be able to track us to see if I’m really sick, so I talked Roy here into leaving our ‘sets, and… hey, I hope that wasn’t rude, that thing I said about mounties? They’re just so cute in those red jackets. I didn’t mean anything. Honestly.”
The guard’s eyes flickered in surprise.
Revik stiffened, his hand now on my thigh. His fingers gripped me tighter, wanting me to be silent, but I kept my smile on the guard, seeing his blue eyes soften.
“No, ma’am. No offense taken.”
“Do you ever ride a horse?” I asked ludicrously.
“When the mood takes me, sure.” His smile relaxed, his eyes on mine, and now warm with a different kind of interest. He gave Revik a regretful look. “Well, be careful then.” He tipped his hat. “You tell your friend congratulations for me.”
“Thanks!” I beamed. “And you, get some hot chocolate or something. You look like you’re catching a cold.”
He chuckled again. “I’ll see if I can’t do that, ma’am.”
“You’d better! Your girlfriend’ll be pissed.”
He laughed aloud that time.
Revik glanced at me. I saw a smile on his lips just before he stuffed his dark head in the helmet, laying his hands on the handles. The guard stepped closer, not looking at Revik at all now. I took the passports and zipped them up in my jacket pocket. I stuck my head in my own helmet. As we pulled away from the booth, I saw the guard looking after me. He raised a hand in salute and I waved back, then clutched at Revik in alarm when he gunned the accelerator.
“Don’t push it!” he said loudly.
I laughed and, wonder of wonders, felt him smile.
He hit the gas harder and the bike leapt forward.
By then, the sun had dipped below the horizon. Fire-red clouds spread out over the ocean, and the sky behind them was dark indigo, almost the color of the Barrier.
19
VANCOUVER
HE BANKED A few hours later, pulling us off a Vancouver city street and onto a small highway. Just before the fork to Lions Gate Bridge, he took us down another ramp.
I glimpsed a sign pointing to the forested dark of Stanley Park.
Exhausted, I now gripped him tightly around the waist, afraid I might accidentally loosen my hold and fall off if I didn’t. He bumped us over the grass to meet the bicycle and footpaths near the water and turned off the headlamp, so we were riding in the dark. My eyes, stinging from fatigue, glimpsed dark trees to our left, a curve of bay and bobbing masts from the boat harbor on our right. Skyscrapers rose behind the docks, curved cylinders of glass that lit up the water like a wall of green-blue eyes.
We rounded the peninsula and a shock of cold air hit as wind gusted into the bike, forcing Revik to correct before he gunned it again. Water flew by in a blur, the image vibrating. As the bike’s tires rose to meet the sloping footpath, I saw a small lighthouse with its light off. A swath of moving darkness lay behind it, broken by reflected glows from slow-moving ships.
Revik took us to the sea-facing side of the white and red lighthouse, parking below two sets of stone stairs.
Before I realized we were stopping, he’d already turned off the engine, leaving us in an eerie quiet with only wind and lapping waves. Unfastening the chin strap, he tugged off his helmet. Spikes of sweat-wet hair stuck up over his head.
Using a foot to dislodge the kickstand, he climbed off. I watched him walk directly to the stone base of the lighthouse. By the time I made out the square, metal panel, he was already kicking it in with his booted heel.
I took off my own helmet and climbed off. Pain shot from my tailbone to my shoulders as soon as I landed on my feet. My arms hung like dead weight. I just stood there for a moment, clenching and unclenching my hands inside the leather gloves, trying to get the feeling back.
I watched Revik finish knocking in the panel.
Then he turned, his face shockingly pale after being behind a tinted visor all day. Behind him, a three by three hole gaped in the cement.
“I suppose a hotel is out of the question?” I joked.
Walking back to me and the bike, he opened the motorcycle’s seat storage, pulling out a blue backpack and blankets, then a cheap, battery-powered lamp. Igniting the last, he set it down just inside the hole in the stone wall and crawled through, pushing the backpack and blankets in front of him.
Inhaling a last gulp of salty sea air, I crawled in after him.
Once inside, I turned around in the surprisingly large space, and leaned against a curved cement wall. I watched in disbelief as Revik crawled back out, leaving without a word. He lay the metal panel back over the opening, and I called out without thinking.
“Hey!” I said, close to a yell.
He bent his knees. He met my gaze, visibly startled.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“To hide the motorcycle.”
“Oh.” I blinked, then exhaled, feeling stupid. “Of course. Okay.”
He straightened, then disappeared.
I just sat there while he was gone, numb with fatigue. I was starting to nod off when he climbed back through the square opening.
After rearranging the panel door behind us, he sat on the opposite side of the lamp as me and began pulling off his leather gloves. In the yellow lamplight, dark circles shadowed his light eyes, which were glassy with fatigue.
I reached over his lap for a blanket. The smell wasn’t bad in there, but there was a faint reek of empty beer bottles and trash. I eyed a used condom just past the circle of electric light and unzipped my jacket, running fingers through my matted hair.
He hooked the backpack with one hand and set it by my leg.
Feeling him waiting, I realized that had been a courtesy of sorts.
Jerking the bag closer, I unzipped the main compartment and groped inside, knocking my hand into water bottles before closing on something squishy in a plastic bag.
“Food,” he said.
Holding up the plastic-wrapped, burrito-looking thing, I sniffed one end of it and grimaced involuntarily. “Jesus.”
Leaning over the space between us, he took the backpack from me.
“You are used to human food,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. I answered him anyway.
“Obviously,” I said, sighing. “Will I ever get used to this stuff?”
“It is likely, yes.” Pausing, he smiled faintly. “Seers live a long time.”
I grunted in surprise, realizing that was a joke. Smiling back at him, I shook my head.
Remembering he’d tolerated human food for me on a number of occasions, I unwrapped one end of the seaweed-looking burrito and took an experimental bite. I gagged, then forced myself to chew. Even as hungry as I was, it tasted like moldy dirt.
He watched with impassive eyes, then surprised me by smiling again.
“Good?” he said.
“No.” I fought not to spit up what was in my mouth.
His smile became a suppressed laugh. “You’re doing it wrong, Allie.”
I grunted, lowering the burrito to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Want to enlighten me? Or are you having too much fun smirking?”
His smile evaporated.
“That was a joke,” I said, feeling my face warm.
His eyes shifted away. “You should be able to feel your light without using the Barrier.” He cleared his throat. “Try with me. It’s easier with someone else.”
He held out a hand towards me.
I stared at it, but didn’t make any move to reach back.
“The sense of motion. Of light. Try to feel it.” His voice remained ca
sual, but a faint tension grew audible as he offered his hand again.
Realizing I was in danger of offending him again, I clasped his fingers. His were warmer than mine.
“Light has a component that is nearly physical,” he said. “It has dimension. It is subtle, but you should be attuned to me, so––”
“I think I get it.” My skin was starting to warm. I wanted my hand back, but I still didn’t want to offend him. It wasn’t that I minded him touching me––I was more embarrassed he might feel me reacting to even this much contact between us.
“I feel different than you?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Other than skin?”
“Yes.” I gently dislodged my fingers. “I get it, Revik.”
He released me with a shrug. “Then eat.”
My hand continued to tingle after he let go. I felt the part of me that wanted to reach for him again, or maybe just put my hand on his leg. Clenching my jaw briefly, I lifted the wrap instead. I tried to concentrate on that feeling of motion as I bit down, especially around my lips and tongue.
I was chewing for a few seconds before I could pay attention enough to notice it really did taste different. Well, not taste exactly, although a subtle array of textures lived under that bitter, damp smell. The real difference felt more like touch, but so infused with my other senses it blurred them together. Absorbing the plant’s light was like inhaling gentle breaths of deliciously scented air. The feeling was nearly… sensual.
“Don’t go too far into it, Allie,” he warned.
I watched him relax as he chewed, like someone getting a massage. His pale eyes flickered to mine, as if he’d heard that, too.
“I had to learn to eat blind when young,” he explained. “To blend with humans. It is why human food doesn’t bother me so much, compared to most seers.” He swallowed what was in his mouth. “It is not uncommon for the Council to require service of seers born of certain castes. My parents were asked to give one of theirs. As an infiltrator.”
He returned my blank look, coloring slightly.
“Given my blood type,” he plowed on. “I was the logical choice. The food was of particular issue to me. I would fight them on it, which angered my father. He did not want me embarrassing him in front of the Council. I was already…” He paused, then shrugged again. “It is complicated. I was not his blood child, and moreover, he did not favor me. Raising me was his duty. He was adamant I do mine.”
I took another bite of the plant burrito, if only to keep my face from showing a reaction.
“That sucks,” I said.
I felt like I should say more, maybe confess something about myself.
Instead, we continued eating in silence. Finishing the wrap, I rolled the plastic into a ball and stuffed it back in the backpack, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting off the cap.
“There is more,” he commented as I drank from the bottle. “If you are still hungry.”
Nodding, I finished off the water and leaned back, sliding around to avoid sharp spots with my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes.
He cleared his throat. “You cannot sleep,” he said.
Realizing he was right, I felt my heart sink. Sleep sounded heavenly, even on condom-strewn dirt.
“We may as well talk,” he said.
Sighing, I sat up straighter. I stuck my arms back into the sleeves of my jacket.
“Okay,” I said, steeling myself a little. “What do you want to talk about?”
There was a silence. Then he exhaled, clicking a little. “Is there more you wish to know about the myths? About who you are?”
I scowled, involuntarily that time.
For a long-feeling few seconds, I didn’t answer him. Then, resolving myself, I turned, facing him. My face began to warm before I’d even opened my mouth.
“How about we talk about something real, for a change?” Pausing when his eyes narrowed, I firmed my jaw. “Are you ever going to tell me what the hell happened between us that night? You know… the thing that everyone understood but me?”
There was a silence.
When it stretched, I exhaled in exasperation.
“Seriously, Revik. Can we cut the crap for once? Just tell me what I did.”
He was already shaking his head. “No.”
“No?” My jaw hardened more. “What do you mean, no? You’re really not going to tell me what that was about?”
He turned, his voice as cold as his eyes. “What what was about?” he growled. “Which part, Alyson?”
I stared at him, taken aback. When he didn’t go on, my surprise turned to incredulity.
“Which part?” I said. “How about the part you told everyone else not to explain to me? How about the part where you got all of your hooker friends to keep me in the dark about whatever the hell it is I did to you?” When he flinched, his expression hardening, I raised my voice. “Jesus, Revik. Just tell me! What is it? What did I do to you that was so terrible? You must know by now I didn’t do it on purpose!”
He shook his head again, clicking at me angrily. “I’m too tired for this, Allie.”
“You’re too tired for it? But you want to lecture me about obscure seer texts all night? Maybe teach me a little more about how to eat seer food?”
His eyes grew cold as ice. “I am too tired for this, Alyson.”
I just stared at him for a few seconds.
Then, realizing I was too tired for it, as well, I sighed. Clenching my jaw, I just sat there for a few seconds, staring at the walls without seeing them. When I felt his hostility intensify from next to me, I slid further away from him on the dirt, sitting on the folded blanket.
Watching me, he ran fingers through his black hair, muttering in German.
I caught enough words that I flinched.
I saw him notice, and stare. Not needing that all that much either, I drew up my knees, resting my face on my crossed arms. Suddenly I was more tired than I thought I could stand.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I glanced up, then wished I hadn’t. He was staring at me, his eyes holding guilt.
“I did not know you knew German,” he said.
“I don’t really.” At his silence, I sighed. “I had a roommate from Stuttgart. I picked up a few words. ‘Immature’ and ‘bitch’ happen to be two of them.” I saw him wince and pretended not to notice. “She argued with her girlfriend a lot.”
His skin darkened. Lacing his fingers, he nodded, staring at his feet.
“I apologize.”
“Forget it.”
“I did not mean—”
“Yes, you did. I said forget it.” I rested my face on my folded arms. “I know you’re trying. You suck at it, but you’re trying.”
Thinking for a few seconds more, I shrugged.
“I’m sorry, too. It was stupid to bring that stuff up now.” At his silence, I added, “It’s just that I’ve been wondering about it for weeks. Mika said you made them promise not to tell me anything. She thought maybe you were trying to get me to ask you directly.” Still thinking, I shrugged again. “So I asked. Directly.”
The silence lengthened.
“Do you want to know more about who you are?” he said.
Grimacing, I shook my head. “No. No more ending the world stuff. Please.” I closed my eyes, then opened them again, remembering I really couldn’t sleep.
“Allie,” he said. He waited until I turned my head. “It’s not only to stay awake. I want us to talk. I want to… move past this somehow.”
I nodded, dejected. “Okay.”
His brows drew together. “You would rather fight?”
“No.” I said. “I don’t want to fight. But I don’t see how it’s much better, for us to talk about things I could read in a book. It feels the same as not talking at all.”
At his silence, I bit my lip. Looking at his face, I sighed again. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I get that you’re trying. I appreciate it. I’m just really tired. And that Bridge s
tuff gives me nightmares sometimes. I can’t do it right now.”
He frowned. “You have nightmares.”
I nodded. “Sometimes.”
When he didn’t break the silence that time, I tried again.
“Look,” I said. “That whole thing in Seattle.” I felt him stiffen, but went on anyway. “I’m not going to make you talk about it, all right? I just want to say something. Is that okay? Can I just say something? About my end of things?”
When I glanced over, his light eyes were wary.
After a long-feeling pause, he nodded slowly, that wariness still in his eyes.
“Okay, here it is.” I exhaled. “I’m sorry about the Kat thing.”
Feeling anger come off him in a harder wave, I clenched my jaw.
“Look,” I said, sharper. “I’m not trying to trap you into some kind of discussion. I just want you to know, I didn’t give you to her, okay? I had no idea she’d take it that way. I told her she could see you. As in, go to your room and talk to you. And yes, that was me avoiding you in part, and avoiding whatever the hell was going on with us. But I thought I’d be avoiding you for like an hour or so, while I pulled my brain off the floor. I wasn’t thinking it was going to piss you off so badly that you’d avoid me for weeks.”
Feeling my cheeks warm as I fumbled around the other thing, the real reason I’d stayed away from him, I met his gaze.
“I didn’t offer you to Kat. I need you to hear me on that.” I hesitated, watching his eyes. “I mean, clearly, I fucked up. I said the wrong thing… I get that. It’s also pretty clear I offended you. So I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Revik. That wasn’t my intention. At all.”
There was another silence.
Seeing his expression grow slightly less hard, I added,
“We can talk about whatever you want now.” Waiting another beat, I tried again. “Even the apocalypse stuff, if you’re dead set on it. I don’t need to worry about nightmares tonight, anyway, since we’re not going to sleep, right?”
He just looked at me. Then he exhaled, clicking softly.
Rook (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #1): Bridge & Sword World Page 19