Several roadblocks we encountered required pretty serious pushes, mostly from the truck we were following, a large military vehicle that held five infiltrators, driven by Varlan. The other four were Holo, Illeg, Stanley, and Dalai.
I glanced at Revik, looking at his profile while he drove our truck.
He gave me a glance and a sideways smile, right before he reached over, massaging my thigh. He left his hand on my leg, heavy and warm, bleeding light.
Even just that much contact frustrated me, but I didn’t want him to remove it, either.
Instead, I laid my hand over his, stroking his fingers and arm.
I felt him wince a few times as I did it, but he didn’t remove his hand, or tell me to stop. After a few minutes I felt him fall into the motion of my hand and fingers, opening his light, if from behind a faint shield.
He’d already told me he wanted to continue doing the memory and sight work while we were out here, even if it meant dragging our bedding into a different room, or letting Varlan or one of the others watch over our lights while we did it.
Sighing at the thought, I leaned into the ripped seat, gazing out the windshield at the back of the military truck behind us. So far there hadn’t been a lot to see since we’d left the populated areas. Apart from dodging cars left on the highways, I saw mostly scrub brush and rolling hills, without a lot to break up the view.
“We’ll drive along the ocean in a bit,” Revik said, rubbing my leg.
I smiled at that, I couldn’t help it.
Truthfully, despite my grumpy thoughts about our semi-voluntary celibacy, if we’d been alone in the truck, I’d probably be in his lap. He’d taken off the armored shirt in the heat, and now wore only combat pants and a khaki T-shirt that matched the military truck.
Mirrored pilot’s glasses hid his eyes. Glancing at his chest in the V-necked shirt, I grimaced a little from the pain that rose in my light.
Feeling a corresponding ripple in his light, I went back to caressing the long muscles of his bare forearm, looking out the window.
I didn’t look behind me, or in the rearview mirror.
Well, I didn’t until an insistent hand tugged on the sleeve of my armored shirt.
Frowning faintly, I turned my head, meeting a somber amber gaze.
It was closer than I’d expected, and I flinched, gritting my teeth.
Feigran only blinked back.
He’d shoved his whole head into the opening between Revik’s and my seats, peering above Revik’s arm, and Revik’s hand on my leg. He blinked at me a few times more from only a few inches away, his expression serious, with a distinct flavor of curiosity.
Seeing the latter expression there, I sighed, unsure whether I should be amused or annoyed. I was even less sure if I should ask the obvious question.
In the end, when he continued to blink at me, I did.
“What is it, Fig?” I said.
Those owl-like eyes blinked again.
“I’m hungry,” he said.
I frowned. “You just ate. Revik gave you two sandwiches. And a protein bar. Is that really all gone? Already?”
“I ate it.”
My frown deepened. “All of it? Are you telling the truth, Feigran?”
He hesitated, then his head disappeared. Seconds later, he reappeared in the opening between seats. He held up the protein bar, which was missing a single gnawed bite.
“Gross.” He placed the protein bar gingerly on top of the same leg Revik was rubbing with his hand, just a few inches above Revik’s fingers.
“Disgusting,” he informed me, grimacing delicately. “Like poo.”
I heard a laugh from behind me.
It was so familiar I winced and grimaced, unable to help it.
“What kind of poo, Fig?” a female voice asked, amused.
The edges of a smile that had been forming on my face vanished.
I looked away from Feigran and the back seat of the truck cab, as he turned his head, answering the voice.
“Kangaroo poo,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe bison.”
“Eaten a lot of Kangaroo poo, have you, Fig?” Cass said, her voice still amused. “That’s very, err… specific.”
I gazed back out the window, pressing my lips together.
Revik’s hand grew warmer on my thigh, infused with light.
A second, smaller hand once more tugged on my sleeve.
I didn’t turn that time, or look away from the window.
“You’re going to have to wait, Fig,” I said. “We don’t have any other food with us right now. And you can’t have my sandwich. I want it.”
“Can I have a cookie?”
I frowned. Then, realizing we did have cookies, that Sita threw in a bag for us, I clicked under my breath. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know how Feigran knew we had cookies. For all I knew, he’d smelled them through the plastic bag under Revik’s seat.
That, or he’d just picked it off my mind like he picked everything off people’s minds.
Before I could decide whether I should give him a damned cookie, Revik took his hand off my leg. Reaching down under his seat, he pulled out the plastic bag, tossing it onto my lap. Giving me a sideways smile, Revik quirked an eyebrow at me.
“He can have my cookie. I’ll take the protein bar.”
Grunting a little, I opened the bag, then handed a cookie back to Feigran.
He plucked it as delicately out of my hand as he’d left the protein bar on my thigh.
I handed the protein bar to Revik, who took a bite and began to chew, seemingly oblivious to what Feigran had done to one end of it.
Rolling my eyes a little at both of them, I leaned back in my seat with a sigh.
Feigran kept his head in the opening between me and Revik, crunching the cookie a few inches away from my ear. When I turned, looking at him in spite of myself, he was gazing blankly through the dirty windshield, chewing methodically on the peanut butter cookie.
“I want a cookie,” the female voice grumbled from behind the seat.
I ignored it.
Feigran however, reached back and gave the half of his cookie he hadn’t eaten. Then he held out a hand to me, silently asking for another one.
Giving in with an annoyed exhale, I plopped four peanut butter cookies into his outstretched hand that time. Nodding at me solemnly, Feigran carefully handed two of them to the people sitting beside him on the back seat, then proceeded to munch one of the two left in his hand.
Balidor hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten in the truck.
Well, he hadn’t said a word where I could hear it.
I had no doubt he was talking to his fuck-buddy via their light, especially since he won the argument on whether or not his psychopathic girlfriend had to wear a collar.
Revik gave them the go-ahead to take it off––despite the fact that she was telekinetic and tried to kill me the last few times I’d been around her un-collared.
Revik leaned closer, pausing to change gears on the manual transmission before he went back to rubbing my leg. Giving me a glance, he raised an eyebrow, then gestured to me in seer sign language, subtly, and in my lap, probably so Feigran wouldn’t see it.
It’s okay, baby, he signed. I looked at her light about fifty times. So did Varlan. And Yumi. So did twenty other infiltrators. Tarsi even weighed in––going into a deep trance to look at it long-distance. None of us found even a trace of animosity towards either of us, much less any connection to the Dreng. She seems to feel real remorse.
At my incredulous snort and sideways look, he smiled, touching my face.
Trust me, honey, he added in sign language. If she so much as breathes on you wrong, I’ll break her goddamned neck.
I didn’t answer, not even by rolling my eyes that time.
I had no one to blame but myself for them being with us.
Although, in the end, even Wreg agreed the Four should be together for this, so maybe I was giving myself too much credit. While we were still in th
e CIC discussing the plan, Wreg had gone from pushing back for security reasons to suddenly agreeing with me and Revik.
“Look,” he’d said, after a long, thoughtful silence. “Maybe this is crazy, but it feels right to me, too.” He’d looked at me, his dark eyes serious. “I may not like it, but I think you’re right, Esteemed Bridge. Whatever is happening now, we all feel it. We all feel something getting closer. I think it’s better to have the Four together, given that. I think the Bridge needs the rest of her team with her.”
There was a silence after he spoke.
I’d seen Jon looking at me through it, frowning.
I could tell he didn’t like the idea of me going anywhere with Cass. I didn’t need my sight to see it on his face, or in his eyes when he gave Balidor a hard look.
“Anyway,” Wreg said, glancing around at the others. “I think you need a larger group with you, anyway, Esteemed Bridge… laoban.”
He aimed his gaze at Revik next, eyes serious.
“Those fucking bounties are no joke, brother. It’s not like before, when we thought you could just slip in unseen. You can’t just go off the two of you right now, not when half the fucking continent will be gunning for your wife. Not when your wife is pregnant and blind… and everyone has her damned Barrier and physical ID.”
Turning, he studied my face, as if trying to read how I was taking his words.
Then, exhaling sharply, he looked back at Revik.
“Whatever you decide on the Four, you can’t go alone. You’d be outvoted by the Council on that point alone… and you opened that fucking door, giving them authority over questions that have to do with the life and safety of any one of the Four. That includes the two of you.”
Frowning at that, I exchanged looks with Revik.
I’d forgotten about that, but Wreg was absolutely right.
We’d handed that authority over to the Council a few months before Dubai. I’d done it in an attempt to save Cass’s life, which might have been funny now, under different circumstances.
I’d never once thought of it in terms of Revik’s life, or mine.
Folding his muscular arms, Wreg looked between both of us.
“They’re already pretty pissed off at you for not consulting them on that bullshit with the Dreng network.” He motioned vaguely but somehow eloquently at the space over his head. “…You know. The China thing. That infiltration that almost lost us both of you.”
Frowning, he glanced at Balidor before looking at me.
“You can’t go to this den of fucking snakes alone, princess. Either of you. Not now. They won’t fucking allow it, and frankly, they’re right. There’s too much at stake. If you want to bring the other half of the Four, they’ll want more security, not less.”
“Fine.” Exhaling, I unfolded my arms. Glancing around the table, I noted the silence of everyone sitting there, most notably Balidor. “Who do you suggest we add to our team, brother Wreg? How many would satisfy the Council, for us to bring the Four?”
Wreg nodded.
“I asked them that,” he said. “They said one senior infiltrator with a high sight rank in actual was an absolute fucking necessity. You’ll need at least four infiltrators working under that person. They’d prefer six, but they understand we have personnel shortages.”
“Who?” I said, my voice pointed.
Wreg hesitated. He glanced at Revik, then back at me.
“We only have one expert on the Vatican on our team, Esteemed Sister,” he said, his voice careful. “There is only one who knows the tunnels below the City backwards and forwards, and who has mapped the architecture of the City in its entirety,.”
He glanced across the table, frowning perceptibly.
I followed the direction of his gaze and saw him staring at Balidor.
Refolding my arms, I mirrored his wide-legged seat, already annoyed.
“Who?” I said again.
Wreg opened his mouth, but Revik spoke up from behind me.
“You already know who, wife,” Revik said. “We need to bring brother Balidor. And we need him to pick his own team.”
My jaw clenched.
Turning my head, I met Revik’s gaze to find his eyes studying mine. When I didn’t change expression, he frowned back, making a what do you want me to do about it? gesture with one hand, before motioning at Balidor with the same hand.
“That’s right,” he said, pointed. “Isn’t it, brother?”
I turned my head reluctantly to find Balidor frowning at me, his arms folded.
He didn’t take his eyes off me as he answered Revik.
“That is correct, laoban. I spent several decades there, around the time of the Renaissance. It was some time ago, but the basic architecture has not changed.”
I looked over, faintly surprised, in spite of myself.
Wreg spoke up next, pulling my eyes back to him.
“There’s more, princess,” he said, exhaling a second time. “I’d like to recommend Varlan for the trip. He’s good with Feigran. He’ll keep him calm––”
At my grimace, Wreg held up a hand.
“I don’t only mean that,” he said, warning, giving Varlan himself a semi-apologetic glance. “Anyway, you need someone on your team who’s intimately familiar with the merc community. Varlan knows more about that than anyone we have on our team, including your husband. Including Stanley and Rex. Including Loki.”
I nodded, but couldn’t wipe the grimace entirely from my expression.
I didn’t have anything against Varlan personally.
Hell, I kind of liked him, even though I didn’t know him very well, and he was more than a little odd, even for a seer.
That being said, I remembered walking in on him “calming Feigran down” once, and I still hadn’t managed to bleach the visuals from my eyes, or my mind.
“Do we have both of their approval of these assignments?” I said.
I glanced at Varlan, who nodded, winking at me inexplicably and giving me a faint smile. I didn’t look at Balidor as I said it, and felt annoyance leave his light in a sharp pulse, but I also felt his agreement.
He voiced it aloud anyway, his words flat, stripped of emotion.
“I have already begun preliminary intel work to assist you and your husband in breaching the Holy City, Esteemed Bridge. I am of course happy to help on the ground, in any way I can.”
Hesitating, I felt him glance at Revik before looking back at me.
“…On one condition, Esteemed Sister.”
I frowned, turning before I let myself think.
Meeting those gray eyes, seeing the caution there, I felt anger ripple my light, even as Revik wrapped his arm around me, warming me briefly with his aleimi. I knew they all thought I was acting batshit crazy about this, but honestly, I didn’t really give a fuck.
I’d love to see them act “rational” after someone they’d trusted implicitly cut their child out of them and left them brain-dead on their own mother’s bed.
Balidor’s eyes flinched perceptibly.
If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to read a damned thing off him, or off anyone in the room apart from Revik.
Once more, I felt like a blind woman in a room full of light.
No one thinks you’re crazy, wife, Revik murmured in my mind. They might think Balidor’s crazy, for coming with you right now.
I grunted, giving him a bare glance before I faced Balidor.
“And what condition would that be, brother Balidor?” I said politely. “Are you going to tell me? I think we’ve all built adequate suspense.”
Balidor frowned, but I saw uncertainty touch his eyes briefly.
After a pause, his jaw tightened.
“She stays with me, Esteemed Bridge,” he said, blunt. “At all times.”
Looking at him for a long minute, I grunted, in spite of myself.
Gesturing broadly with a hand, I fixed him with a stare.
“Fine,” I said. “She’s your responsibility the
n. In every way, brother.”
I saw his eyes flinch.
Unfortunately, I also saw the relief there, strongly enough that it made me angry at him all over again. Honestly, I still couldn’t believe it.
Fucking Balidor, of all people.
How could he be so blind?
It’s your funeral, asshole, I thought, loudly enough that everyone at the table likely heard it. Gaos di'lalente. Seers and their unbelievable stupidity when it comes to their dicks.
There was a silence.
Then I heard a few coughs hiding laughter, including from Revik––and from Yumi, who sat on Revik’s other side. The only one who chuckled outright was Tarsi, over the virtual link.
Even Jon was smiling wryly when I glanced at him, although I caught a scowl he aimed at Balidor before I’d looked away.
Hiding his own smile behind a muscular hand, Wreg bowed to me, making the respectful sign of the Bridge.
“Very well,” he said. “We will begin preparations now, Esteemed Sister.”
Balidor––wisely, in my view––kept his damned mouth shut.
22
OLD WOUNDS
MY EYES SNAPPED open, leaving me writhing on the hard ground, covered in sweat despite the freezing cold air, despite the plumes of steam leaving my lips.
I couldn’t think at first, couldn’t remember where I was.
Shimmering green walls rippled behind my eyes, splashed with water and blood, images of Terian’s grin warped by a deprivation pain so intense, it seemed to want to rip me apart from the inside out. That pain made it impossible to think, impossible to breathe––it pulled at me from a place in my mind and heart I’d almost forgotten.
There was so much longing in that pain.
So much longing, and gods… so much love.
I’d forgotten just how bad it was at the beginning. I’d forgotten the depth of that pain, how it seemed to rip me in half, just from breathing.
I’d forgotten what it felt like, believing I was alone in it.
Back then, I’d thought I was in love with a ghost.
More than that, I’d thought I was in love with someone who was utterly indifferent to me.
I’d felt rejected by him on so many levels by then, in so many ways. I’d known what an utter fool I was, to even mourn him so intensely, but I hadn’t been able to help myself. It wasn’t really pride that made me try to shove him away. It was a terror that I might not ever come out of it, that he might not ever stop hurting me, even in death.
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