Shield (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #2): Bridge & Sword World

by JC Andrijeski

  He shook his head, clicking softly. “No.” He took a breath. “I just want you to be sure.”

  “You want me to be sure?”

  “Yes.”

  There was another silence. This time, I found myself fighting to keep my expression level. I pursed my lips.

  “Okay,” I said. “But isn’t that kind of up to me?”

  “I want you to have time with me. Without sex.”

  “Haven’t we had that?” I said. “…Months of that, actually?”

  “Yes.” He folded his arms tighter. His jaw tightened slightly, too, but he wasn’t looking at me now. “You haven’t had much time to know other seers. You were married to me before you had met any other males.”

  There was another silence. I folded my arms tighter, too.

  “I know other males now,” I said.

  “Allie.” He gave me a warning look. “Don’t.”

  A little bewildered, I watched his face as he looked away.

  After a few more seconds more where neither of us spoke, I sighed.

  “Okay,” I said. “So what does that mean? You want us to date for awhile? Or do you want me to see other people?”

  Something glanced past his expression. Feeling a pulse off him, I sighed.

  “Revik, relax, okay? I’m not looking to date other guys. I’m trying to understand what you’re saying.”

  He didn’t look up. “I’m explaining something about seers,” he said. “You may not know what you’re getting yourself into. This isn’t the same…”

  He trailed, his mouth firming somewhat. He gestured vaguely.

  “The same as what?” I said.

  “As having sex with a human,” he said. “Or even…” I saw his throat move. “…or with a seer you’re not married to, Allie.”

  “Revik.” I fought to control my impatience. “Will you please just spit it out? Please. Whatever it is. Say it.”

  His eyes flickered back to mine, holding a kind of dense focus. Within that, I saw an emotional reaction I couldn’t quite interpret, intense enough to make me pause. My irritation faded as I continued to look at him.

  He was uncomfortable with this conversation, I realized. It was making him nervous as hell, not only in relation to his feelings, but in terms of how I might react. He was serious about what he was proposing, with the no sex thing. He truly felt it was the right thing for us, and he was worried I was going to disagree––or worse, be offended.

  It occurred to me then, what I was doing. I was arguing with him when he said he didn’t want sex.

  I felt my face grow hot.

  “Sorry.” I shook my head, avoiding his eyes. “Revik, I’m sorry. Of course it’s fine.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I looked out the window at the sun peeking through the clouds. “Hey, are you feeling up to a walk? Maybe we should get you some food. We could talk on the way.”

  He shook his head. His voice and face grew openly frustrated.

  “Allie… gods. I wish I could just…”

  I swallowed, waiting as he trailed again.

  For a moment he sat there, holding his head in his hands. When he spoke next, calm had returned to his voice.

  “I’m not angry with your questions,” he said. “I just don’t know how to make you understand.” Glancing up, he sighed at my expression, focusing back on the bed. “Sex will make us married––in a way we haven’t been. It’s why I hesitated before, on the ship.” Leaning back, he added, “When we do it, it’ll change things. Do you understand? It’s likely to throw both of us off balance, at least for awhile.”

  “Off balance.” I watched his face, cautious. “Like how, off balance?”

  He gestured vaguely with one hand. “Some of it will be temporary. The separation pain… that pain we feel around each other… it’s going to get worse for awhile. It could even get a lot worse. I don’t know for how long.”

  “Okay.” I swallowed, nodding. “That’s one. What else?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “If we complete the marriage process, our life spans will likely be interdependent.” At what must have been a perplexed look from me, he said, “When I die, you die. And vice versa.”

  “Oh.” Thinking about this, I nodded slowly. It made sense, given what I knew about seers. “Okay. What else?”

  Exhaling in a sigh, he glanced out the window, clicking to himself.

  “Trust you to be blasé about that.” His voice sounded calmer though, like he’d relaxed a little. He looked back at me. “Okay, there’s one more. I’ve never been married to a seer before, but from what I know, it’s likely to make us irrational.”

  Seeing the quirk in my mouth, he cut me off. “…More irrational, Allie. Until the bond is complete, the possessiveness will be worse. We’ll need to be considerate of one another. Really considerate.” He gauged my eyes. “I need to hear something from you around that.”

  I nodded, folding my arms. “Okay.”

  He took another breath. “I want an agreement,” he said. “A formal one. About other people.” He must have read some portion of my thoughts, because when I glanced at him again, his eyes held an open disbelief. “Agreement means the opposite of what you’re thinking. It’s a commitment. I’m not going to comment on the ‘may not be into it’ if I sell myself thing I just heard.”

  “But isn’t marriage a commitment?” I said. “For seers, I mean?”

  “Yes. But you weren’t raised seer.” A shadow touched his eyes. “For us, there’s more to it than the physical.”

  “Okay,” I prompted, waving him on. “So. Explain that.”

  His eyes hardened. Briefly, his accent grew thicker. “So, if we’re going to do this… this trial period… I would like to ask you for monogamy.”

  Perplexed, I bit my lip.

  I hadn’t been with anyone since Nick the bartender in San Francisco––which was longer ago than I cared to admit aloud to anyone, much less him. Besides, he had to know that. It’s not like I could have kept it from him. Was he really going to make me go there?

  “That’s not a problem, Revik,” I said.

  He glanced up at me. “I mean seer monogamy, Allie.”

  I fingered my hair out of my eyes, exhaling again. “Revik. Please. Out with it. You want to say something. Just say it.”

  He nodded. “All right.” His jaw tightened. “I would like to ask you not to have physical or Barrier sex with humans or other seers. During this period.” His fingers pulled at the animal skins. “Or anything approximating sex. If you have any… lovers… of this kind, I am asking you to sever it with them. Until things are settled with us. It is a formal request, Allie.”

  I finally got what was bothering him.

  There’d been one night, months ago, when Terian still had Revik and I thought he was dead, when me and my seer bodyguard, Maygar, had done something in the Barrier that apparently fit Revik’s definition of cheating.

  Revik clearly hadn’t let it go.

  I wasn’t sure if I should laugh, or point out the obvious irony. As it turned out, I did both.

  “You’re going to lecture me on fidelity?” I said. “Seriously.”

  “I might.” He didn’t sound entirely like he was kidding. “Alyson, I regret what I did, but it wasn’t to be with other people.”

  I nodded, not believing a word. “All right.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want us to be married,” he said. “I didn’t want to be married at all. And I wanted sex with you. Badly, at times. It was distracting. I had sex with other people to buy me time.”

  Seeing me flinch, he folded his arms tighter. “I’m not feeling that way now. If you are, for any reason, we should sever it… before we consummate… and try to be friends.”

  His skin darkened, just before he looked up.

  “I would never hurt you, Allie. Never. I never want you to fear that, not from me. But this is a deal-breaker for me. I’m goddamned jealous enough, without––”

  “Jealous?” I gave a short laugh, s
taring at him. “Jesus… Revik. I’ve never given you a single reason to be––”

  “I’m in love with you,” he said.

  This last startled me into silence. I opened my mouth to answer, then didn’t.

  My silence seemed to throw him, too.

  When he looked away, I forced myself to breathe, then to think.

  Before I let myself second-guess any of it, I moved. Walking the rest of the way over to him, I sat down on the end of the bed. I made sure I sat far enough away, though, and I didn’t touch any part of his light.

  “Revik.” I focused on his hands, which were bruised at the knuckles, lying white on the caramel-colored skins. I laid a hand on his leg. “The monogamy thing, it’s fine with me. You must know that, even if you’re… you know, worried.”

  At his silence, I took a breath.

  “It’s more than fine. It’s what I want, too.”

  I paused again, keeping my voice calm as I shrugged. “Just, you know. If you get distracted again… or whatever… tell me. Before you act on it. Warn me, at least.”

  He returned my gaze, studying my eyes.

  I was about to get up when his light encircled mine.

  Something like guilt lived there, which I avoided. His light slid deeper, wrapping into me until pain started to whisper through the veins in my aleimi, vibrating my skin. I tensed as it got stronger. I had trouble keeping my eyes on his when he opened to me, really opened, bleeding more of himself through his voice.

  “Allie,” he said. “Once we do this, we can’t reverse it. I don’t think even Vash could.”

  “Revik, if you don’t want to, it’s fine––”

  “I do.” His pain intensified briefly. “…I really do, Allie, more than anything. This delay isn’t for me. I want you to be really, really sure.”

  “And you’re that sure?” I said.

  “I’m older than you,” he said. “I’ve been with other seers.”

  I smiled, but didn’t feel it. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Allie.” His light slid deeper. I swallowed, having trouble holding his gaze. “Allie… I won’t need any more distracting. I promise.”

  I nodded. When he didn’t say anything else, I slid backwards a little on the bed, extricating myself from his light. I did it mostly just to give myself space to think. Feeling his eyes on me still, I looked out the window.

  The sun had come out for real.

  Giant clouds clustered around the peaks I could still see, but the sky was a deep blue. I watched birds alight on the bamboo roof. One little brown bird played in a puddle on a curved stave, shivering so that drops splattered out in a mist before dunking its head. Another bird started chirping at it, vying for the same puddle.

  Smiling, I glanced over, and found Revik watching me again.

  When I didn’t look away, he held out a hand.

  Hesitating only a bare second, I slid nearer. I knew now, at least, that nothing was going to happen. It got some of the suspense out of the way.

  Once I was close enough, he curled an arm around my waist, pulling me smoothly and tightly into his arms. It startled me.

  Okay… a lot, but I didn’t resist him.

  I stiffened as he resettled against the wall, bringing my back against his chest. He wrapped an arm around me crosswise, gripping my shoulder, then relaxed deliberately, merging into me.

  For a long moment, I felt nothing off him but warmth, a kind of pulling affection.

  Realizing I was reacting to him sexually anyway, just from the mere fact of him touching me, I fought to relax, to clear my mind. I tried watching the sky outside. I was aware of his fingers caressing my shoulder though, and his leg shifting behind my back. He held me tighter, wrapping his other arm around my waist.

  “Allie.”

  When I looked up, I felt myself flush.

  His face was only a few inches from mine.

  He cleared his throat, gesturing towards me vaguely again, just before I saw his skin darken. I saw the question there, and looked from one of his eyes to the other.

  Finally, I rested my head on his shoulder.

  “What?” I said.

  He said, “I’d like to kiss you. Can I?”

  My cheeks warmed.

  Somehow it hadn’t occurred to me that we’d still be doing that under the scenario he’d just outlined. My eyes settled on his mouth, then drifted back up to his. I found myself remembering saying goodbye to him, in the airport.

  Still, I knew at least part of the reason I was hesitating.

  It was the distraction thing, what he’d said about other women. I hadn’t missed the plural he’d thrown in there, either. I had to assume he meant Kat, that seer prostitute in Seattle, the same one he’d kissed right in front of me, who called me “worm” and taunted me ceaselessly about Revik and my general cluelessness.

  He told me in Vancouver, in his usual, tactful way, that he hadn’t “fucked” her while we were in Seattle. Now I had to assume they’d done everything but.

  Hell, for all I knew, there were others on the ship. He could have been shielding his activities from me before.

  But I had to let that go. I had to.

  Looking up at him again, I nodded. “Okay.”

  His eyes grew pained. “Allie, I didn’t mean anything––”

  I shook my head. “Don’t,” I said. “Please. Don’t ruin it.”

  After another pause, he nodded.

  He slid a hand into my hair, caressing it back from my cheek, then my neck. He continued stroking my skin, studying my face as his fingers traced bone and muscle. I was trying to decide if I should touch him back, or say something, when I felt a shiver from him, just before he lowered his head.

  His mouth was careful, just like I remembered.

  Despite the near-familiarity there, it shocked me, just like it had all the times before. My heart stopped in my chest. My mind blanked out. I couldn’t connect it at first to my feelings, or even directly to the person I'd known before all this, the one I’d thought about kissing all the time, at least on the ship.

  For a long moment, he kept things warm, even affectionate, not using his tongue. He kissed my mouth and neck, pausing to caress my cheek with his. Then he went back to my mouth.

  I couldn’t decide whether I could relax into this. Every part of me was starting to hurt as he lowered his head, kissing my throat. I felt flickers of his tongue, nearly flinched against his breath on my skin, biting my lip to keep from reacting too much.

  His mouth found mine again.

  That time, he parted my lips.

  His tongue was warmer than his skin.

  That shocked me too, but I fell into it without really turning on my brain. After a few seconds, I felt my stress from our conversation beginning to evaporate. All that remained were his lips and tongue, his fingers caressing my face. My hands were in his hair then, clutching the shorter part at the back of his head. I realized I was probably holding him too tightly… when his arm snaked once more around my waist.

  I found myself being pulled and pushed backwards to the bed, until he was half-lying on me.

  He kissed me again. I lost track of how long that kiss lasted.

  We were both breathing hard when it ended.

  His skin was flushed. He held me tighter, not looking at me now, but seemingly out the window. My hand was inside the gray T-shirt, my arm wrapped around his back. I felt scar tissue around the muscle, broken by smooth skin.

  I was still caressing his back when he caught my wrist, pulling my fingers off him.

  “We should stop.” His voice was gruff. “Now, Allie.”

  “All right,” I said.

  He looked down at me.

  Before I could get my head around letting go of him, he was kissing me again. Emotion slid through me that time, a kind of disbelief mixed with wanting… I realized it was his. A few moments later, he rested his head on my shoulder. Pain flickered through me, and I realized that was his, too.

  “Allie,” he
said. “…I’ve missed you. So much.”

  I swallowed, fighting a sudden hardness in my throat. I tugged on his hair.

  “I missed you, too,” I managed.

  He was looking at me again, and I felt the conflict, even before I saw it in his eyes. Everything hurt. My fingers clenched in his shirt.

  “Revik,” I blurted. “Please. What’s the real reason? You can tell me.”

  Pain hardened his features. “Allie…”

  “Are you still unsure about us? Do you need more time?”

  The look on his face brought the pain back in a thick wave, intense enough that I closed my eyes, gripping his arms.

  “Revik… please. Just tell me.”

  “Allie.” His accent was thick again. “I’m not lying to you. This thing connecting us… I don’t want you to feel trapped with me.”

  “I don’t feel trapped!” I said.

  He shook his head, his voice deep as he looked away. “But you’re not used to these kinds of aleimic pulls,” he said. “You might not be able to tell the difference.”

  “I can tell the difference! I promise you, I can…”

  His pain hit at me again, sliding deeper into my light.

  “I promised myself,” he said. “I promised myself I wouldn’t take advantage of this. Not until I knew what you wanted.” He met my gaze, his jaw hard. “I loved you before Seattle. I know you don’t trust me because of what I did, but please… please believe me about this. I’m doing this for you. Please.”

  I felt tears coming to my eyes; it mortified me, but I couldn’t seem to stop it. I saw him looking down at me, his expression helpless.

  “We can’t,” he said. “We can’t here, even if…” I saw him look around, at the room, at the bed. His pain slid through me again, and I let out a gasp.

  Excruciatingly, his light started to withdraw from mine.

  Something in me fought back.

  I didn’t mean to do it exactly; something about having him finally so close just opened all the floodgates.

  I’d been in pain for so long I couldn’t remember what it was like not being in pain. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched me, much less him––which brought back all those times of nearly touching him but not, looking for him in the Barrier when he was with Terian just so I could feel him, sometimes only for a few seconds.