Dragon_Bridge & Sword_The Final War

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Dragon_Bridge & Sword_The Final War Page 55

by JC Andrijeski


  Jem didn’t answer. After a longer pause, he nodded.

  “All right, Esteemed Bridge. Let us say they are related, as you suggest. How does that help us, exactly?”

  I sighed, hands on my hips. I glanced out the floor to ceiling windows, noting that smoke was now coming from one of the buildings I could see to the north.

  “Dunno,” I confessed, still watching the plume of smoke. “But I want to know why Dragon went to so much effort to get that book back. I can only think of a few possibilities.” I ticked them off with my fingers. “He needs something that’s in it. Someone else needs something that’s in it.” I paused, frowning. “…Or he wants to prevent someone else from having what’s in it.”

  “Like us,” Jem said, wary.

  I shrugged. “Or like Shadow.”

  Feeling Jem’s scrutiny intensify, I bit my lip. For a few seconds, I fought back and forth with whether to say it, then finally did.

  “I think until we know that, meaning what the point is of killing these individual bodies, and what the book means, following this map is a waste of time,” I confessed. “I think we should probably stop. At least until we have a better idea of what he’s doing.”

  “You want to go to China,” Jem said, watching me shrewdly. “You want to go there instead of Cairo.”

  There was a silence.

  Then I conceded his words with a gesture. “Yes.”

  Dalejem sighed, clicking softly.

  He moved his arm, but the projection remained stable, shifting trajectories from the wristband to continue to show the network diagram. Feeling some of the different things skirting the surface of his light, I cut him off before he could go there.

  “Dragon was manipulating her,” I reminded him. “Novak. Just like Menlim did with Revik. That’s what Dragon wanted me to see. That’s why he left that recording for us. That, and he wanted me to know the book was his.”

  Jem pressed his lips together, not answering at first. He seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything at all, then blew air out his lips, motioning sharply.

  “So?” he said.

  “So, I disengaged Revik from Menlim.”

  “What does that mean?” Jem said, staring at me.

  His eyes still held scrutiny but I could feel that frustration there again. I realized it was because he still wasn’t following my train of thought as well as he’d like, even now.

  “It means I don’t think Menlim had access to Revik’s mind in Dubai. Not directly.” I exhaled, frowning. “Which means someone else did. Which means the words might not have been aimed at Revik at all. Or if they were––”

  But Dalejem whistled, catching up all at once.

  “You think Dragon’s the fucking trigger?” He stared at me, his eyes holding an open incredulity. “Gaos, Allie… how long have you believed this?”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, shrugging.

  “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” he said.

  “Because I don’t know who’s listening, Jem.” Realizing how that sounded, I rubbed my forehead with a hand. “I don’t mean you,” I clarified. “I mean Dragon. Revik. Menlim. I don’t know who has access to my light right now.”

  Dalejem didn’t look offended. “I understand.”

  There was a silence where we both just stood there.

  Then Dalejem stepped closer, curling his hand around my upper arm. He lowered his head, sliding his other arm around my waist.

  “Let’s get out of here, Allie.” He leaned closer, nuzzling my face.

  I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Jesus, Jem… really?”

  “Yes,” he said, no defensiveness in his voice. He met my gaze. “Let’s get out of here. Find food. Fuck. Sleep. Then we’ll talk about what to do next.”

  I shook my head, clicking at him, but he tugged on my arm, bringing me closer.

  “Allie,” he said, softer still. He pushed hair out of my face, tucking some of it behind my ear. “I want to talk about this some more… but not here. Jasek’s people can provide us a real construct here. Let’s take advantage of that. Maybe even get some rest for a change.” Feeling resistance on me, he kissed my cheek, murmuring. “You haven’t slept in forty-eight hours. Let me help you crash, at least.”

  He quirked an eyebrow, still watching my eyes.

  “I’ll give you a foot rub,” he offered. “And a back rub, if you ask nicely. Along with other various… parts…”

  I turned over his words.

  Or maybe more the meaning I felt behind them.

  Despite the flirting, he was worried about me. He thought I was burning out.

  Maybe he was right.

  I found myself glancing at the dead body on the floor, grimacing.

  “Exactly why I want us to get out of here,” he said, bending down to kiss my neck. Raising and inclining his head, he added in more of his regular voice, “And yeah, the corpse of our ex-enemy there is a major hard-on killer. She doesn’t stink much yet, but with this fucking weather change, I can smell it already. I don’t want to stand here while she gets more and more ripe. There’ll be monsoon rains in a few hours and that’ll bring the bugs inside.”

  Grimacing again, I nodded.

  I also wondered why the hell I was arguing.

  “All right.” Looking up, I met his gaze. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  I let him lead me out of there by the hand, both of us carrying rifles over our shoulders again. I turned a last time by the door, that sick feeling in my gut worsening as I looked at her body. I focused on the toes of that one shoe-less foot.

  I wondered if Dragon made her kill herself, like he had with Novak.

  I didn’t need to know that, but the thought ricocheted somewhere, making connections to what Dalejem and I just talked about. Which of course brought me full circle, forcing my mind back around to the one place it really didn’t want to go––which was Revik.

  Of course, it wasn’t a very big leap.

  He was always there somewhere. Always.

  Now, he was there more in his absence, but he was still there.

  My mind grappled to stop obsessing on him, on where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, what condition he was in––who might be holding a gun to his head right now, or having him hold it. I fought with silence, with distraction, with pushing the thoughts and images away, then doing my best to drive them out of the forward part of my mind at least.

  I never really succeeded.

  For the first time in all of this, I couldn’t feel him anymore.

  I couldn’t feel him.

  48

  STOP TALKING

  “ALLIE.” HE WRAPPED his arms around me from behind, groaning against my neck. “Allie. Gaos, darling. Don’t let me come… gaos… don’t let me come yet…”

  Pain shivered off him, a longing, begging pull that closed my eyes.

  I’d lost track of time.

  I had no idea how long we’d been doing this.

  He’d been in one of his patient moods. He’d been pulling on me, coaxing me up and down, working my light and body with a level of detail that almost brought up a fear reaction when he pushed me to open more.

  We’d found food somewhere. The local seers. Jasek.

  We ate and then Dalejem spread blankets on the floor and started undressing me.

  He hadn’t been very gentle about it. But I was learning his light better; I knew the reasons why now, so I understood. I felt more emotion there today, maybe more than I ever had.

  He overcompensated.

  The softer his light felt, the less gentle he became physically. It was a combination I almost couldn’t deal with at times, and not only because it sometimes reminded me of Revik. Maybe that’s the real reason he’d been patient tonight. Maybe he’d noticed more than I gave him credit for, which I was beginning to think was usual for him, too.

  Maybe he hadn’t been willing to let me avoid feeling any of that.

  I felt his pain worsen when he arched up into me again,
his light opening to the point where my eyesight slanted out, making me gasp from where I lay beneath him. As soon as I opened for real he extended, groaning louder, his hand gripping my hip. He tightened his arm around me as he did it, so that the length of our bodies pressed together.

  Between that and how far inside me he was, I lost track of my light again.

  One of my arms wound up and back and around his neck, my fingers gripping his hair as he forced my legs further apart. He caught hold of my other hand in his, twining our fingers as he stretched out my arm, slamming his body into mine harder.

  “Gods.” He was saying my name then, groaning it against my ear.

  I felt his pain worsen, grow excruciating, even as his heart opened more.

  Emotion hit me, and that was harder to deal with than the pain.

  His muscular body rippled over me, a violent jerk, right before he let go of me, raising himself up to change the angle. Once he had, he was fucking me so hard I cried out with each thrust, losing control over my light when he didn’t slow down.

  He pinned my arm, groaning when the sounds I made got softer, more filled with pain. Following the currents of my light, he slowed, but when he arched into me that time I felt a near violence behind it, a possessiveness that caught in my throat.

  I felt him lose control, really lose control.

  He let out a heavy cry when he started to come.

  His pain washed over me, and then I was losing it too, my light spiraling out of me.

  “Revik…” I groaned, tears coming to my eyes. “Gods, Revik, Revik…”

  I felt him react.

  His light flinched so hard he nearly pulled out––violently enough for my mind to freeze, for me to actually hear what I’d just said.

  But he didn’t stop, maybe couldn’t stop by then. I moved with him as he finished letting go, my whole body spasming against his as he slowed, gradually regaining control over his light.

  I felt the pain in his light worsen––

  ––then a grief that blanked my mind.

  He gripped the fingers of my hand tighter, tight enough for it to hurt, even as his other hand clenched on my hip, holding me against him.

  I fought to control my breathing, to control my light. I tried not to think about what I’d just done. A flush crawled over my skin anyway, a kind of dread as I replayed my words.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice still out of breath.

  He didn’t answer.

  A few seconds later, he pulled out of me slowly, almost lingeringly, gasping a little at the end. He was still mostly hard, and I felt my pain worsen once we were separated.

  He started massaging me with his hands and that pain got worse.

  I turned over, shifting carefully to my back and looking up at him.

  He moved to accommodate me, supporting himself on his hands, his hair hanging down as he returned my stare.

  For a long moment, neither of us said anything.

  Then he exhaled, caressing my face with his hand. A softer light came out of him, pulling at my chest, making my eyes close. I felt so much tenderness there that time, it was hard to stay open at all. Tears came to my eyes, before I could stop it.

  Once it started, it only got worse.

  “Just feel it,” he said, his voice gruff. “Stop holding onto it, goddamn it. You’re not going to hurt my feelings any more than you already are.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes. You can,” he growled. “Do you need me to beat you, like he did?”

  The pain in my chest worsened at his words.

  I didn’t want to picture that. I couldn’t handle that right then, either.

  But Jem didn’t let it go. I felt him sliding further into my light, far enough past my defenses that my control started to slip for real. After being so open to him in sex I couldn’t keep him out.

  I felt him encourage me to keep opening.

  I felt him wanting it.

  He opened more on his side, too; his light growing so soft I couldn’t fight him. It coaxed at mine, pulling strings I couldn’t see, a tender plume of heat that disarmed me entirely. He slid deeper the more of me I gave him––until it felt like he held me there, in the most vulnerable part of that wound, protecting it with the heat of his aleimi.

  Patient, so fucking patient. That affection of his bled from his light.

  He kept coaxing me, softening his light more and more, and then I was crying for real, feeling that pain in my chest worsen until I couldn’t hold it back.

  Once it opened I couldn’t get out of the way. I couldn’t do anything to lessen it, or to even think around it. I cried like a little kid, like I had with Jon when our dad died.

  I cried, missing Revik so badly it felt like he’d already died.

  Fear lived there, so much fear. Fear at his silence. Fear that I couldn’t feel him anymore.

  That pain in my chest worsened. I could feel some part of me screaming for him.

  I could feel myself screaming for him in the dark.

  I cried, missing Lily…

  But I couldn’t think at all when I felt the two of them together. She didn’t feel gone the way Revik did, but her light felt so far away. Not gone entirely, not like Revik’s, but so damned far away. Like she wasn’t a part of me at all anymore. Like she’d been stolen from me again.

  I wanted them with me so badly I couldn’t control my light.

  I felt Dalejem’s light grow softer still.

  He stroked my skin, enveloping me in his aleimi. Everything about him was soothing, protective, even as he thickened the shield around us both, giving me the space to lose it for real. So much love came off him it hurt me more.

  I felt my light reaching back, but not for his.

  I reached for Revik, begging him to come back…

  I begged him to come back to me.

  He didn’t answer. I couldn’t feel him.

  I couldn’t fucking feel him––

  “He’s not dead,” Jem said, his voice soft. “He’s not dead, Allie.”

  I only cried harder, my light sliding out of control again.

  I fought not to remember him on the roof. He’d been saying goodbye to me. He knew. He fucking knew he wouldn’t come out of this.

  He’d known Menlim would kill him.

  “No.” Dalejem’s voice was still low, but firm now. “No, Allie. He was scared. That’s not premonition… that’s love. He was terrified he was making a mistake.”

  I fought to breathe, to let in Jem’s words, but for a long time, I just couldn’t.

  For what felt like a really long time, I couldn’t make myself stop crying, either. Maybe I hoped I could cry it all out, that there would be an end point in there somewhere… but it was fucking bottomless. It was bottomless.

  Menlim would wipe it all away. After everything he went through as a kid, everything he went through to get past it. After everything we’d put each other through.

  Dragon would just tell him to eat a bullet and that would be the end of it.

  “No,” Jem said, his voice harsher that time.

  I heard tears in his voice and closed my eyes, unable to deal with his pain, too.

  I couldn’t think about the fact that he loved Revik, too.

  “Gods,” he said. “Alyson…”

  I felt him force himself silent.

  I felt the conflict on him, him fighting to decide whether to speak, or maybe what to say to me. Realizing I was pushing us both to a dangerous place, I gripped his arms, as much in reassurance as anything, but also in an attempt to bring myself back, maybe by focusing on him instead of me, instead of that pain I couldn’t seem to dial back no matter what I did.

  When Jem wouldn’t look at me, I hit him with a stronger pulse of light, forcing his eyes to mine, and for a long moment he just stared down, that conflict seething off him.

  Then he exhaled, his frustration sharpening.

  “We’ll go to China,” he said, rough. “Fuck it, we’ll go. Okay? We
’ll go now… even though your husband told us to wait. Even though that means we have to talk to Brooks again to make sure she doesn’t nuke us, either on accident or on purpose.”

  When I started to protest, he shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “We’ll go. I think you’re right. We can’t let Dragon get there ahead of us. We can’t risk it. Him being a part of this changes things. We have to change the plan, too… your husband’s attempts to nail himself to a cross notwithstanding.”

  Thinking about his words, I nodded slowly.

  I felt my grip relax on his arms, even as my chest unclenched, if only a little.

  It hit me that I was relieved beyond words, beyond any ability to express myself. I aimed that relief at Jem, then I was stroking his chest, feeling a softer gratitude towards him, intense enough it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

  He grunted, looking me in the face. “Gratitude?” Before I could answer, he added, sharper, “…I’m not entirely sure that’s a compliment, love.”

  I thought about answering that, too, then didn’t.

  Gliding my fingers over his skin I started massaging his chest for real, doing it deliberately that time, with stronger, more practiced fingers. I started coiling heat into his light as I did it, affection, desire… more light.

  I felt him reacting within seconds of me opening, but I felt resistance there, too, what might have been guilt, or maybe something else.

  When I didn’t stop, that resistance started to fade. He let out a low gasp, lowering his head. I felt him getting hard against my bare stomach.

  “You have a really nice body,” I told him, smiling faintly.

  He grunted. I felt the humor there, but it felt almost unintentional on his part. “That’s what you’re grateful for? My cock?”

  I smiled wider. “Among other things.”

  “My fingers?” he said, sliding them into me.

  I let out a low gasp then shrugged, human-style. “Maybe.”

  “What else?” he said, leaning his weight.

  “Oh, you know,” I said, blowing hair out of my face. “You’re also pretty good at using your various… parts. When you feel like it,” I added. “When you aren’t just being a sadistic bastard and using me to get yourself off for a few hours.”

 

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