Dragon_The Final War

by JC Andrijeski

  He instantly got a warning pulse.

  Not a breach warning, or anything that should have made ‘Dori react the way he had. It was just one of the pre-programmed things Revik left with the security team monitoring operations. Meaning, one of the things he’d told them to ping him on as more of a head’s up.

  A breath later, Revik got the specifics.

  Brother, your wife left the perimeter around the apartment complex. Unescorted. Without wearing prosthetics or anything to disguise her appearance.

  Revik scowled.

  He recognized Declan’s voice in the recording and pinged him without thought, glancing at the time stamp. While he waited for Declan to pick up, he clicked over to the live feed, pausing only to scowl at Balidor. Something in the other’s eyes made him wonder if they were reacting to the same thing, even now.

  “Brother?” Revik said when Declan answered. “Where is she? And why the fuck did you let her leave without an escort?”

  Declan stammered. “Illustrious Sword. I sent Balidor the feed––”

  “So send it to me,” Revik said.

  Feeling resistance on the other male, Revik felt his irritation turn to anger.

  “Brother? Is there a problem with your comm?”

  “No.” Declan’s voice remained tense. “No, sir. Sending it through now.”

  Revik frowned. He stood there, hands on his hips, waiting.

  He glanced at Balidor and saw a strangely impenetrable look on the other’s face. It hit him in the same few seconds––Balidor didn’t want him to see whatever this was, either.

  What the fuck was she doing?

  Fighting Mythers on the ground? Bare-handed?

  Just then, the feed reconfigured, changing his visuals to a VR representation of what was being picked up by at least one set of feed cameras on the outer Bangkok wall. The view expanded as soon as he shifted his focus. It wiped out the physical contours of the upper floor patio and the glimpse of pre-sunset sky he’d been staring at through the open wall.

  As per usual with these kinds of perceptual shifts, Revik had to reorient himself, unsure what he was seeing at first.

  He focused on a stretch of gray and beige land, what looked like smoke from small fires dotting a plain with few trees and only the burnt-out husks of larger buildings. He was looking past the wall, he realized, past the boundaries of the enclave around the segment of Bangkok protected by the wall.

  Given the heavier plumes of black smoke he could see and the patter-shot of automatic gunfire he could hear echoing below, the image capture had to be located on the wall itself, directly above the breach hole from the bomb blast.

  Revik cursed under his breath.

  Had Allie really gone down to the front lines? By herself? Anger overrode his fear, even as he found himself wondering if this had something to do with what she and Feigran had been talking about earlier…

  …then his eyes refocused.

  He found himself staring at a nearer part of the virtual image. By the wall.

  It was darker there, so his eyes glossed by it in the beginning, seeking light first. Now that he looked there, he could not look away.

  His wife… Allie.

  He watched, lost somewhere between disbelief and shock as she kissed Chandre. The East Indian seer had her pinned to the shadowed part of the wall.

  She had her hands on her.

  Jesus fucking christ…

  He didn’t know if he spoke the words aloud or not.

  He felt Balidor’s hand on his arm and jerked it away, stepping back, without disengaging from the virtual view. He watched Chandre grip his wife’s ass, could practically feel her light invading Allie’s. He saw pain in the face of the East Indian seer, what bordered on a loss of control. She slammed Allie against the wall even as he thought it, kissing her harder.

  Revik could only watch, lost there.

  Allie was kissing her back.

  He didn’t see the loss of control on his wife that he saw on Chandre, more conflict and confusion mixed with pain, but he couldn’t look at her face for long.

  He watched Chandre’s instead. He followed the seer’s hands as they massaged different parts of Allie’s body. One hand slid between Allie’s legs––

  His wife jumped.

  Her green eyes opened.

  Revik saw her lips move. Any audio capture they had didn’t pick up the words; whatever she’d said to Chandre was lost in the wind battering the top of the wall, the gunfire and shouting below. Whatever it was, Chandre didn’t let go of her, even then.

  She leaned her head against Allie’s until Allie untangled herself.

  Revik stared at his wife’s face as she stood there.

  She was flushed, her face holding more of that conflict, what might have been remorse, or embarrassment. He didn’t want to think about what any of those things might mean.

  He didn’t want to think about whether he’d crossed his wife’s mind yet at all.

  He saw her say something.

  From her lips, it looked like, “I’m sorry.”

  Revik felt his jaw harden as his wife walked away.

  Alyson left Chandre without looking back, disappearing from view of the feed camera. Revik couldn’t see her face as she left. She’d been staring down, walking with purpose as she aimed her way past that section of wall.

  Revik found himself watching Chandre as she stood there.

  He didn’t see regret on the hunter’s face. Instead he saw frustration, anger, what might have been conflict… pain. A lot of fucking pain. She looked confused, but not exactly like she wasn’t sure what just happened. She looked hungry.

  She looked fucking hungry for his wife.

  Pain rippled Revik’s light, a blinding shard hitting him somewhere in the middle of the chest. He ripped the headset off his ear.

  The virtual view of the wall vanished.

  He didn’t know what look he had on his face, but he could feel Balidor’s light.

  Concerned. Cloying as hell, but concerned, well-meaning.

  Concerned, yeah.

  When Balidor touched his arm a second time, Revik stepped back, warding him off like a blow. Without meeting the other’s gaze, he was already turning, aiming his feet for the elevators on the other end of the patio. He didn’t see the trees or the algae-choked pond with the gold and white fish or the square hole of sky. He didn’t remember passing through any doors. He didn’t remember pressing buttons on the elevator panel or seeing anyone, although he must have pressed buttons and there must have been others there.

  He wasn’t sure when he could see again.

  By the time it occurred to him to think about it, he wasn’t in the building at all.

  He’d also started to run.

  9

  TRUST ME

  HE WAS LATE.

  I don’t know why that would even bother me at this point, given everything else going on, but for some reason it did.

  If I were being truthful, it hurt my feelings. I hadn’t managed to carve out any real alone time between us in longer than I cared to remember. I tried not to take that personally, but again, it was almost impossible not to right then.

  I also tried not to read too much into his absence, considering the day I’d just had.

  I tried, but I couldn’t help it.

  He knew.

  Someone must have told him. One of the seers running security on the wall, or someone on the infiltration team. Oli, maybe. Anale. Declan.

  Either way, he knew.

  Maybe Revik had gone down to the wall himself, looking for me. It wouldn’t be unlike him, especially now. And he’d gotten so damned good at shielding his light, working with Balidor and Tarsi, I doubted I’d be able to feel him if he was standing right behind me.

  I’d been on the verge of biting the bullet and just calling someone. I didn’t want to do it, but I was beginning to think I had to. I was trying to decide who to call––who wouldn’t flip out on me, that is––when out of nowhere,
Revik walked through the door.

  No ping of his light. No brief, cryptic message that he was coming up.

  Revik walked into our small, fiftieth-story apartment like it was nothing.

  He did it without speaking a word. He didn’t even look at me.

  He didn’t bother to give me any excuses for where he’d been. He didn’t give me a chance to ask, or even to grump at him for being late. He was talking before he was all the way through the door.

  “What was all that about?” he said, blunt. “Earlier. In the tank.”

  I watched, taken aback, as he closed the door.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me when I didn’t speak.

  He still didn’t really look at me. It was more like he was making sure I was actually there, or maybe that I’d heard him and wasn’t in the Barrier, working. I felt him use his headset to activate the lock on the door. He unhooked the headset from around his ear as soon as he’d done it, tossing it on the low table by where he stood.

  “…With you and Feigran,” he said. “With his drawing. What the fuck was that? Are you going to tell me? Or is it one of those things you can’t?”

  I just stood there, not sure how to react.

  It crossed my mind to hit back with something full-on sarcastic and kind of shitty.

  I didn’t, though.

  I knew part of wanting to react that way had to be defensive––or guilt, maybe. I also knew it wouldn’t help anything, and would probably turn this into a real fight before either of us got a chance to talk about anything that mattered.

  The way his light felt bothered me more than the blunt question, or even the fact that he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Even in here, where we had our own construct that probably had the best shielding we could produce as a group, his light felt guarded, borderline shielded from mine. That didn’t even count the crazy-ass amount of shielding we’d erected around Revik’s light apart from the construct shields, so he wouldn’t have to shield from the rest of us constantly, in the course of just everyday-type interactions.

  I understood why none of those things would be enough in Revik’s mind.

  I understood that, sure.

  I did. Mostly.

  A part of me wanted to prod him to test those shields a little more than he had been, though. I wasn’t stupid enough to think now was the right time for that, either.

  In the end, I only shrugged.

  “You know as much as I do,” I said.

  “I doubt that,” Revik said.

  Hearing the edge in his voice, I didn’t answer.

  I watched as he crossed the room to the small kitchen. He yanked open one of the sink cabinets, pulling a glass out and setting it on the counter. I guess I should have been thankful he didn’t fill it with bourbon, but then, I wasn’t sure we had any alcohol left.

  He didn’t feel drunk to me. He didn’t feel like he’d been drinking at all.

  Then again, I wasn’t confident I would feel that on him right then, either.

  I watched him fill the glass with water, using a plastic jug that stood on the counter by our non-functioning kitchen sink.

  I watched him gulp down the water, then refill the glass again.

  I knew I was stalling, maybe as much as he was. The truth was, we were so limited in what he’d let us talk about, I wasn’t sure what wiggle room that left us. I understood all his reasons for that. I knew he was doing whatever he could to protect Lily and me. Even so, I couldn’t help feeling I was losing my husband in the process.

  “Temporarily,” he said.

  I watched as he tilted the second glass up, swallowing the last of the water.

  I noticed only then that he was sweaty.

  He looked like he’d been running in his regular clothes. Usually he wore shorts and a T-shirt, or he wore full combat gear if he was feeling particularly masochistic. Anything between those two extremes was pretty unusual.

  I watched him avoid my eyes.

  “You’re late,” I said finally. I heard the edge creep into my voice. “Like an hour late… and you didn’t bother to call. Is that a part of protecting me, too?”

  He glanced at me that time. I saw a hardness touch his eyes, right before it left.

  “It might be,” he said, his voice emotionless.

  I watched in blank incredulity as he went back to avoiding my gaze. He filled his glass with more water then stuck the jug inside our non-operational refrigerator and left the kitchen. Still holding the glass of water, he folded his arms as he walked over to stand by the window.

  I watched him plant himself there, legs slightly apart. He gazed out over a view of the city, his expression back to infiltrator blank as he took swallows of the water.

  “Jesus,” I began. “Revik––”

  “Do you want her?” He didn’t look away from the window.

  I froze, staring at his back.

  “Chandre,” he clarified, when I didn’t speak. “I wasn’t aware there was something between you two. Do you want to fuck her, wife?”

  His voice was blank. Utterly empty.

  “What?” I said.

  He turned. That time, he stared directly at my face, his clear eyes cold.

  “Do. You. Want. To. Fuck. Her…?” he said, speaking slow. “It wasn’t a trick question, Alyson.”

  “No!” I snapped. “Are you kidding me?”

  Even so, my heart was beating hard in my chest.

  Really, painfully hard.

  I’d known we would talk about this, that it might torpedo any attempts of mine to talk about anything else––much less anything happening between us. But I hadn’t expected it to go down like this. For one thing, I’d hoped I could be the one to tell him.

  I’d thought his people would put off telling him––hopefully long enough for me to be able to frame this for him in some way. I’d known Declan was working the station. He was usually discreet. I figured, at most, Declan would tell Balidor.

  Not Revik. I never thought in a million years they’d tell Revik.

  Maybe I’d miscalculated Declan’s loyalty to Revik? Or missed out on some kind of seer dude code with specific provisions around wives?

  “Revik.” I combed my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know who told you––”

  “No one told me, wife,” Revik said. “I saw it.”

  I blinked at this new information, confused.

  He wasn’t looking at me, but back out the window. I could feel the anger on him now. More than that, a deeper hurt, what I’d so badly, badly wanted to avoid and what was a lot harder to push aside.

  My mind ticked over the information he’d given me though, and I realized I’d miscalculated more than I’d realized.

  “How?” I said.

  He turned again, his eyes even colder.

  He tapped his temple with a finger, still staring at me. “Headset, love. You stood right under a goddamned feed station while you dry-humped my infiltrator.”

  I felt my jaw harden, but fought not to rise.

  “Is this a fucking punishment?” he said. “For depriving you?”

  I winced. “No. Revik… jesus. No. It’s nothing like that. It’s not about us at all.”

  He just stood there for a few seconds, staring across the room without seeming to see it.

  Then he let out a humorless laugh.

  “Not about us?” he said. “Did we revoke vows, wife? Because I wasn’t aware that I had. Or that you had, for that matter.”

  His hurt pulsed out at me more intensely that time.

  “Revik.” I softened my light, walking towards him.

  He stepped back at once, and sideways, increasing the distance between us.

  “No,” he said, his voice cold.

  I took another step towards him, shaking my head.

  “Revik, baby… listen to me.”

  He winced visibly at the endearment.

  I held up a hand, a calming and peace gesture rolled into one.

  “Just listen to me, okay?�
�� I said. “With non-husband ears. For one second, I need you to just listen and not make this about us.”

  He gave me a hard look, one that held a coil of disbelief.

  “Don’t talk shop to me, Alyson,” he growled. “I don’t give a fuck what’s going on between us in our personal lives. Don’t talk shop to me in here. Not about that.”

  Coming to a stop, I thought about his words.

  Still thinking, I slowly shook my head.

  “Then I can’t talk to you about this,” I told him. I held up my hands, a gesture of defeat. “I can’t. You’re just going to have to think the worst of me. Or trust me. Your choice.”

  He let out another humorless laugh.

  Then he shocked me. Turning sharply, he threw the glass he’d held.

  He didn’t throw it at me.

  Even so, my husband has a good arm.

  The glass shattered into near-powder, leaving a slanting dark mark on the paneled wall on that side of the room. I jumped a little when the glass exploded, cracking the edge of the monitor in the process, but I didn’t move.

  I watched his face warily as he clenched his jaw. I waited, feeling that pain on him worsen as he fought to gain control over his light.

  “Are you fucking anyone else out of operational necessity, wife?” he growled, looking at me. He clenched his hands on his own hips, making the knuckles white. “Is there a list somewhere, so I won’t be surprised next time?”

  I felt my throat close.

  I felt my vision blur, too. I fought to speak, then only looked away, shaking my head.

  “No,” I said, soft.

  “Do you want her?” he asked again, his voice cold.

  “No!” I said angrily, looking up.

  “It sure as fuck looked like you did.”

  I bit my lip, fighting not to blurt out, It was supposed to.

  But I couldn’t say that, either. He’d made the limits on this conversation crystal clear.

  “I’m seer,” I said finally, my voice flat. “Sexual reactions don’t mean much under those circumstances. And like you said, we haven’t been having sex, Revik.”

  He winced for real that time.

  I fought not to react to that, too.

  “I don’t want her,” I said, sharper. “Damn it, Revik. You know that I don’t. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry you saw that… but it didn’t mean anything. Not to me. Not to us. I promise you.”