I covered my eyes with a hand, fighting the image out of my light.
I needed a break.
Balidor was right. I could feel it now, my gradual loss of control, the inability to keep my mind running in straight lines. I felt my own exhaustion. It wasn’t just a lack of sleep, not the part that hurt. A heavier desperation lived there, a pain that wasn’t just separation pain, or even regret or fear or confusion at some of the more violent things he’d shown me.
I didn’t belong in his life. I didn’t belong there.
Even before I’d been alive, I’d done nothing but make him miserable. Even before I was born, I made his life harder, more difficult than it needed to be.
The thought brought another hard pain in my chest, a tightness that cut off my breath. I fought back tears, knowing those wasn’t rational either.
If I couldn’t pull it together, I was going to have to call in Vash… or Tarsi.
I’d done everything I could to minimize my reactions, knowing if he felt them, it might cause him to withdraw. Whatever his words said, I knew he was sometimes consumed with guilt, sometimes shame or grief, to the point where he couldn’t look at me after. I didn’t probe his reasons because I didn’t have to––and frankly, they were none of my business.
But I couldn’t risk losing him.
I couldn’t risk him shutting down now, just because I couldn’t control myself. I needed to be a mirror in this. Nothing more.
I couldn’t afford to have my own emotional meltdowns.
I struggled to bring my light under control, breathing harder.
The pain gradually ebbed to a bearable throb, somewhere under my breastbone.
I fought to swallow, eyes closed as I waited for it to go back more, to recede further into the background. When it didn’t, I waited until I could handle that.
I grew conscious of my fingers clenched in my shirt over my chest, and I loosened those too, taking my hand away from the sweated fabric. I laid it on the blanket by my side, and tried not to react to the fact that he’d seen me do that, as well.
I wanted to turn, to look at him, to try and ascertain what lay behind his stare. I preferred to do it by reading his expression, without reaching out, without violating him inside the collar unless I absolutely had to. My own paranoia wasn’t a pressing enough reason to take advantage of the disparity between us. In fact, I couldn’t really think of a good reason to do it anymore. I suppose there had to be one, if I thought hard enough.
I still couldn’t make myself look at him.
“Allie.”
His voice was soft.
I didn’t turn. His voice slid through my light, bringing the pain back in a thick pulse, strong enough it probably showed on my face.
“Allie, look at me.”
I swallowed. Taking a breath, I forced myself to comply, shifting my head on the hard pillow. Meeting his gaze, I felt a pit form in my stomach.
He looked so sad it gutted me.
It wasn’t just sadness––self-hate lived there, a fear that stood on the surface. I tried to keep my reaction off my face. He saw it though, and pain tightened his expression.
“Allie,” he said, softer. He touched my face.
“I’m okay,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Revik. I’m okay.”
He stared down at me, not answering. I watched him study my face. His eyes shone back at me, conflicted, shimmering briefly with things I couldn’t pin down long enough to identify.
Whatever it was, it was more than he could handle, too.
The softness left his expression. His clear irises held mine, holding an empty scrutiny that didn’t reflect any of the things I’d felt in him just seconds before. All that remained was that emotionless appraisal, almost an infiltrator’s stare.
I forced myself to hold that clear gaze.
He looked away from me a few seconds later, frowning at the wall.
Thoughts clouded his glass-like irises while I watched, cycling forward and back as he pursed his lips. His expression didn’t move really, but I saw flickers around his mouth and forehead, enough that I didn’t buy his stillness.
I knew that look––sort of. I didn’t know what he was thinking precisely, but some scenario was taking shape in his head. Whatever it was, he was feeding it, gearing up for something. I was still fighting to make sense of it, when he spoke.
“So that’s it, then?” he said. “We’re done here.”
I swallowed. It wasn’t an auspicious start.
Fighting my reaction out of my light, I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “We’re not done. I might need a break, though. A few days. Maybe just one, to catch up on sleep.” Seeing his jaw harden, I touched his arm, fighting not to react when he flinched. “They’re on me about not getting enough sleep, Revik.”
“They’re on you?” He gave me a cold look.
“Yeah, you know––”
“You can just say it, Alyson. You can say his fucking name. I know it’s Balidor. He’s the one who’s ‘on’ you… isn’t that right, wife?”
Feeling a pain in my chest, I made a noncommittal gesture.
“Not only him,” I said neutrally. “Jon, too.” Pausing, I added, “It would be good for you to spend time in someone else’s light. Vash’s… or Tarsi’s. Someone with more experience, who can come at this from a different angle.” Seeing his expression harden, I softened my voice. “Revik. I’m just tired. Please don’t take this personally. Please.”
His eyes met mine, holding an anger on the surface. He didn’t answer.
I touched his face, but he flinched again.
“There's more going on,” I told him. “Outside, I mean. We got a message from China, and I need to act on it. Voi Pai is trying to––”
“Don’t.” He shook his head, jaw clenched. “I don’t need to fucking hear it, Allie.” He gave me a narrow look. “You shouldn’t be sharing intel with me, anyway. You know damned well if I ever got free––”
“Revik, gaos. Don’t. Please don’t do this. This isn’t about you.”
He let out an angry laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Right.”
He stared at me. For a brief pause, he seemed to see me again. Then his eyes hardened more. I flinched at the anger that shimmered off his light.
“Just fucking go, Allie. Leave.”
“Revik.” I clicked softly, shaking my head. “I don’t need to go now––”
“Yes. You do.” His jaw hardened. “Get the fuck out of here. I want you to go and never come back. Stop explaining and just fucking leave.”
I fell silent at the pain that flared off his light.
He was breathing harder, his skin flushed, his mouth curled in anger. I saw that coldness in his eyes, but more lay behind it, so much more, I couldn’t make sense of it. Neither could he, apparently. Confusion wove into the fury I could feel. Whatever it was, he barely seemed able to hold it back. His hands clenched on his thighs, and I felt pain on him, but it wasn’t separation pain, at least not all on its own.
Looking at his face, I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d hit my breaking point.
He was cracking.
It crossed my mind to leave––to just get up and go, come back and talk to him later, after we’d both slept. Take a shower. Let him cool off. Let us both calm down.
It also crossed my mind to put us both under again, to try and use this.
The thought brought a cloud of fury off him so intense I flinched.
“No.” He stared at me, breathing harder. His eyes held murder now. “No goddamned way am I going under again. Not with you. I mean it, Allie. You’ll have to drug me first.” He pointed at the door with one cuffed hand. “Get the fuck out of here! Now!”
I should have left.
When I didn’t, more pain came off him in a cloud.
Tears were running down his cheeks as he stared sightlessly at the wall. Most of what I felt on him was anger still, a rage so intense I couldn’t get close enough to it to und
erstand what it was about. I tried to touch him, but he didn’t just flinch that time, or move away––he shoved my hand off him. When I moved back, he looked away, wiping his face with one hand.
“Revik,” I said. “I love you.”
He shook his head, but didn't answer.
“Revik––” I began.
“Just stop, Allie. Stop. It’s done. Gods. I want so badly for this to be done.” Shaking his head, he let out a coarse laugh. “Gaos. I knew it. I fucking knew it, even then. I knew I had to let this go. Move on with my goddamned life. But I couldn’t. I never could.”
That pain sharpened in my chest. “Revik, please. Just get some rest. I’ll go, okay? We’ll both sleep, and it’ll feel different, I promise.”
He shook his head, his voice deadened. “I’m not talking about the sessions, Allie.”
“Then what?”
“The marriage,” he said, turning on me. “I want this fucking marriage to be done.”
I flinched. I couldn’t help it.
That time, his eyes reacted to my flinch. I felt him hesitate, then he looked away again. He covered his face with a hand, closing his eyes.
“I know we can’t be severed,” he said, still not looking at me. “I know all that, Allie. But I’m done. I don’t want to be married to you anymore. I want us to find some way to work around the bond, to have lives apart from one another.” He shook his head, his voice holding that pain still. “I know it won’t be easy. I know that. But it’s got to be better than this.”
I just looked at him, unmoving.
I was lost again, lost in that place I’d woken up in, that place without hope, without anything. The pain turned in my gut, throbbing a low, dead pulse.
I felt myself starting to shut off, to close down.
I couldn’t handle this conversation, not now. Maybe not ever.
But it was already here.
“I think we should formalize an end to our agreement,” he said. “Make some ground rules about how to use our light, and when to shield from one another.” He met my gaze, his eyes empty. “And I want you to bring me someone to fuck. Anyone, Allie. Hire someone. All of this will be easier on both of us if we start taking other sexual partners. As soon as possible.”
Pain hit me, more than I could keep off my face.
“Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t fucking start crying… I mean it, Allie. I can’t fucking take that right now. I really can’t. You know I’m right about this! Don’t make me out to be the prick, just because I’m the one willing to say it out loud.”
I shook my head, but I still couldn’t speak.
“I’m trying to make this easier for you,” he said. “For both of us. The sooner we stop pretending, the better.”
I shook my head, but I still didn’t look at him. “You can have whatever you want, Revik. I just… I can’t do this right now. Can we talk about this later?”
“You want to talk about this later?” He turned to stare at me. “Alyson. There is no ‘later.’ I want us to negotiate this, then I don’t want to see you again. I want Vash and Tarsi to help me with the rest, and for you and I to go our separate ways.”
I didn’t turn my head.
He stared at me for a moment longer. I felt his eyes on me, felt the pain coming off him, mixing with that colder anger, fighting its way out of him.
He wanted to hit me. He wanted to hurt me for real. I could feel that, too.
Even as I thought it, he lowered his voice, speaking in a kind of thick frustration.
“I can’t stand it, Allie. I mean it. I can’t fucking stand it anymore.” His voice grew softer, holding so much pain I flinched. “I need you to go. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t trust myself not to if you stay. I never want to see you again, Allie. I mean it. Get the fuck out of my life. This isn’t negotiable. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Pain blanked out my vision.
I couldn’t see him. I might have gone away entirely for those few seconds.
He grabbed my wrist in his fingers, forcing me back. I felt him pulling at me, even through the collar, trying to force me to look at him.
“I raped you,” he said. “I fucking raped you. What are you doing, lying next to me?”
I shook my head, fighting for words. None came.
He released my wrist, half-throwing it back at me. I felt him fighting it again, pulling back his light, fighting to control it. I watched him do it from far away, though. I couldn’t feel him anymore. The pain was gone. I couldn’t feel anything.
Even so, it took me longer to sit up than it should have.
I looked down at my clothes, at my body, confused by their outlines. I tugged at the fabric of my pants. They didn’t look familiar to me. I realized I was still lost in the clothing of that other place, that other time I’d lived. As I acknowledged that much, his words hit me again.
It wasn’t my life. I’d never been to those places. I’d never met those people.
“I’m sorry,” was all I said.
“Sorry?” he said. “For what? Are you fucking apologizing to me for raping you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No. Not for that.”
My voice sounded far away, unfamiliar to me.
I felt another pulse of his anger, sharp enough that I closed my eyes, blocking it. Once I’d closed my light that much, I found I couldn’t make myself want to open it again.
“Allie,” he said, his voice cold. “Why do you even care? You married me when I wasn’t me. We don’t even know each other now.”
I couldn't make myself speak.
“Alyson!” he said. “Goddamn it. Are you going to give me what I'm asking for?”
I turned, meeting his gaze. I saw him flinch at whatever he saw in my face. I continued to look at him, unable to take my eyes off his. As I did, I felt something in my mind phase out.
Even in that, there wasn’t nothing at all.
Thoughts formed, pictures, despite the overlapping silences.
They hung there, in the dark, devoid of meaning, of any dialogue or story, but the themes woven through weren’t difficult to understand.
I saw it again, what happened in D.C. The way he’d looked at me on the plane. What he’d said to me when he thought I was in love with Balidor. What he’d said to me when I’d first entered the tank, all those weeks ago. Even as far back as the ship. I thought about everything I’d done to try and force us to be together. It had always been me, from the start.
He’d pursued me as Syrimne, but only because of what I was, not who I was. He’d been waiting for the Bridge, some mythical being. Not me.
Until he wasn’t waiting for her anymore, either.
Vash warned me. So did Balidor. Even Jon in his own way, cautioned me about expecting too much. Remembering their words, I didn’t move for a long moment.
Then I reached up behind my neck.
It took a moment for my fingers to find the right spot on the chain. Unclasping the latch to the necklace I’d worn for almost two years, even while I’d been a captive of Terian, I caught it in my hand when it fell. I saw his eyes follow my fingers as I coiled it in my palm.
I held it out to him.
He didn’t move at first. I motioned again with my hand for him to take it.
When he still didn’t move, my voice grew impatient.
“Take it, Revik,” I said. “Please. I need you to take it.”
He met my gaze. I couldn’t read him at all now, but it no longer mattered.
“I'll shield my light,” I said. “I’ll do whatever you ask. But I need you to take this back.”
Reaching out almost cautiously, he held his hand under mine. I dropped the chain and the ring into his fingers.
“Is there anything else you want?” I said. “Anything else of yours I have?”
For a long moment, he only looked at the ring in his hand.
I watched him look, then realized I didn’t want to hear what else he had to say. Before he could look up, I mo
ved away from him, pulling my stiff legs under my body. Climbing to my feet, I didn’t pause. I walked directly to the door.
I knew I was too calm. I knew there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t feel anything, even with him in the room, emanating light.
I also knew that someone was probably out there, listening, but I didn’t care about that, either. Banging on the metal with my palm, I raised my voice for the microphones.
“Open the door.”
“Allie,” Revik said. “Wait.”
I only hit the metal again, harder. Hard enough to hurt my hand.
Revik raised his voice, pulling on me with his light. “Allie! Goddamn it. Come back here. Right now!”
I banged on the metal again.
His voice rose, angrier. “Don’t you dare pretend you aren’t relieved… or that you won’t run right into that fucker’s arms, now that I’ve given you permission.”
I didn’t look at him. I knew I was crying, but only because I couldn’t see. My light snaked and sparked around me, but nothing lay before my eyes but a wash of blurred green. I still didn’t feel anything. The weight in my chest dulled all of it.
“Open the fucking door,” I said, louder, my voice harsh.
Before I could bang on it again, someone did.
43
GIVE HIM WHATEVER HE WANTS
JON LOOKED AT Dorje, feeling his hands go cold. From his expression, Dorje could almost be in pain, as if feeling something sympathetic through his light. He couldn’t have felt anything, of course, not through the thick walls of the tank, but that pained look on his face didn’t lessen.
Allie’s eyes, more than Revik’s words, brought a sickness to Jon’s stomach, something he found he couldn’t really think past. He saw the anger in Revik’s face, the hardness of his mouth as he tried to get her to react, maybe to yell at him in return.
Jon barely heard their words after her face changed like that.
Then he saw her hand back the ring.
She was on her feet then, and he moved as she did, taking the handful of strides to the door at a jog. He was still working on the combination lock at the front of the door, putting in symbols as Dorje read them to him from the Barrier, when he heard her voice turn into a near snarl through the loudspeakers.
Shadow (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #4): Bridge & Sword World Page 41