Sword

by JC Andrijeski

  SWORD

  Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #3

  by

  JC Andrijeski

  Copyright © 2017 by JC Andrijeski

  Published by White Sun Press

  Cover Art & Design by Damonza.com

  2017

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit an official vendor for the work and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Synopsis for Sword

  “I was now, officially, a real terrorist…”

  After losing her husband, Allie finds herself the new official face of seers as she fights to prevent the human and seer worlds from exploding into all-out war.

  But her husband, Revik, isn’t really gone. Instead he’s transformed into someone she barely knows. Before she can adjust, the two of them are on different sides at the brink of racial war––a war he wants to see play out, a war he’s ready for, and worse, one he’s already fighting.

  Compromise with him might be impossible, but it also might be the only way she can save him from himself and keep him from killing everyone she loves.

  Dedicated to

  David

  Prologue

  MEMORY

  I WOULDN’T LEAVE him.

  They’d convinced me not to go inside, but I wasn’t leaving.

  Planes screamed overhead, dropping receding, symmetrical lines of bombs on the White House roof. I screamed with them as they fell, and Tobias grabbed my arm, preventing me from running back towards those steps. The concussions went off in a rhythmic heartbeat, flashing orange and white in the night sky, sending up clouds of black smoke.

  The upper floors already burned.

  I saw curtains tatter after the windows blew out, whispers of ash and cloth as they billowed out the blackened openings. The new explosions caved in part of the upper edifice, allowing more flames to leap out of the upper floors.

  That room where Revik had been––naked and touching and being touched by all of those other people, by Kat––it was being eaten by flames, too.

  Tobias looked at Ullysa.

  I felt the two of them conversing, but I didn’t care enough to listen.

  My light was occupied. I was looking for him, scanning the sky for planes, for humans I could feel closing in on us, on him, from all sides, looking for him in what remained of the White House structure.

  I knew he wasn’t on the upper floors.

  He couldn’t be. He’d left those upper stories before I had.

  Even so, I watched the flames warily, measuring their progress.

  Kat stared up at the building with something like indifference on her face, her thin arms folded over the front of her tailored suit.

  The human world’s icons meant nothing to her.

  I could feel enough to know her indifference was at least partly a front. She didn’t give a damn about the White House, or me––she was worried about Revik. She was a lot more worried about him than she had any damned right to be, as far as I was concerned. I could also feel anger at me seething off her light. She blamed me for him not being with us now.

  She still didn’t fully understand what had happened to him.

  I didn’t much care what she did or didn’t understand, though.

  For an instant, I envisioned holding that gun.

  I envisioned blowing that shitty smirk off her face.

  I wondered if anyone would even care.

  Tobias grabbed my arm. I thought at first he’d heard my thoughts, but then he began dragging me down the path towards the East Wing’s driveway and gate. I scanned ahead, felt a car waiting for us there.

  But I wasn’t leaving.

  Twisting around in his hands and kicking the male seer in the crotch as hard as I could, I writhed out of his grasp when he let out a pained yelp. Before I’d formed a coherent thought, I punched him in the face. When Ullysa tried to grab me from the other side, I back-fisted her in the temple, driving her halfway to her knees.

  She caught herself on the asphalt, holding her head in one hand, her light exuding shock.

  They both backed off of me after that.

  For a little while, at least.

  I wanted to do more. I could smell my husband on them still… on all of them. If I’d had a gun, I really might have shot all three of them.

  I knew I wasn’t right in the head. I knew there was something wrong with me.

  I didn’t care about that, either.

  Silver threads floated, somewhere above.

  Lost inside his aleimi, inside the broken pieces of his mind, I fought for air, for some kind of clarity. He was so alone. He’d been alone for so long.

  Ullysa and Tobias talked me down… or talked themselves down, maybe.

  I listened to them with one part of my mind, but most of me remained split, lost somewhere in those silver fragments that made up my husband’s living light. Unlike before, when I could only hold the split consciousness for a few seconds at a time, now it was like breathing to be in both places at once.

  My eyes glowed so I could barely see, but that didn’t matter, either.

  Through the Barrier, I saw everything.

  It was him. All of this had been for him.

  Taking me, luring him here, hiring him to kill the boy––it had all been to bring him back, to make him operational once more.

  They’d used me to bring back Syrimne.

  I could feel him again. Even now, what I felt was achingly familiar, far more like him than it wasn’t, filled with so much of his presence I wanted to pull him back through that void of dark. It felt like my husband, even under all of those twisting silver threads, so much so I could barely breathe, feeling him all around me.

  Maybe I’d even known who he really was from the beginning. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to know, so I avoided all the signs and clues, the hints and whispers that pointed me towards the truth. Maybe I was hoping both of us could outrun it forever.

  Or maybe I’d just known it wouldn’t make any difference.

  Maybe I knew, and I wanted him anyway.

  1

  SEPARATED

  LIGHTS FLASHED, IMAGE capture devices aimed at my face and body as I entered the foyer of the luxury New Delhi hotel, surrounded by Adhipan seers. I walked as erect as I could in the high-heeled shoes and long dress, conscious of the human press surrounding us, the scrutiny on my body and face.

  I managed to keep the smile plastered on, but my fingers gripped Vash’s arm like it was a life preserver.

  From what I could tell, the ancient seer by my side was a lot more relaxed. His smile was warm and genuine compared to mine, his light seemingly unfazed by the lenses and sweaty human faces surrounding us on all sides. Beaming around at everyone as if he was at a party, he waved at a few reporters, saying hello to them personally, clasping arms and hands, patting fingers and even heads.

  They stared back at him blankly, then smiled in return as if in spite of themselves, which is the effect Vash had on most people. A few of them even clasped his hand in return, and said hello to him back, their smiles sliding into genuine grins.

  Watching the effect he had on them, I thanked my lucky stars again I’d managed to talk Balidor into letting me bring the old seer with me.

  It wasn’t only Indian press who stared at us and talked excitedly into microphones as we passed. In fact, most of the insignias I saw on cameras and microphones were from Western news feeds, primarily those based out of Europe and the United S
tates, although I guessed a few had Chinese and South American origins based on the languages the reporters spoke. I also overheard at least one reporter from Japan.

  Regardless, news of my arrival here had definitely spread.

  The reality of my newfound status in the human world hit like a blow to the face.

  News crews slammed up against the velvet ropes like rampaging cattle, held back only by the line of seers covering security as I entered the long hallway. I could feel the feed broadcasts playing in headsets as they narrated my entrance, capturing my every facial expression in real time. Since I wasn’t subject to the image ban, being officially a criminal and terrorist, they were free to speculate with impunity about every aspect of my person.

  Self-consciousness about the dress flickered around the edges of my light, even as I fought to hold my expression still. I knew looking overly nervous wouldn’t do me any favors, in terms of how the reporters assessed my performance here tonight.

  Still, I was nervous.

  For one, there was the possibility SCARB might go back on their agreement with Balidor and the Adhipan and try to arrest me, or simply gun me down versus trying to put me in a World Court lab or prison.

  Then there was the real reason I was nervous. The more emotionally-charged reason.

  Like, the fact that Revik was likely watching these live feeds right now.

  Vash agreed at once to accompany me when I asked him, although there was a fair bit of clicking and head-shaking and debate amongst the remaining elders on the Council of Seven.

  Balidor’s reaction verged more into heart attack country. I saw veins throb on his temple I’d never seen before, even as he stared at me and Vash like we’d both lost our minds.

  Then again, if Balidor had his way, I likely wouldn’t have left the Pamir at all.

  Balidor’s job was to nag me about security though, so I expected it. I desperately needed him to do his job, especially now, with half the world on the brink of all-out war. As leader of the Adhipan, the elite unit of infiltrators charged with protecting the Seven’s elders––and, incidentally, me––Balidor had a heavy load these days.

  I wasn’t insensitive to that, either.

  On the other hand, it simply wasn’t possible for me to stay as safe and behind closed doors as Balidor would have liked. Doing so, in fact, would be akin to hunkering down in a cave––literally, in my case––and waiting for the Apocalypse. Vash agreed with me that such an approach was both impractical and highly irresponsible.

  Like it or not, I was The Bridge. Hiding was not an option.

  Anyway, there was Revik, as I said.

  Revik certainly hadn’t been hunkering down in any caves lately.

  “You look lovely, my dear,” Vash murmured in Prexci, likely to get my mind off that train of thought. “Shall we venture inside?”

  Realizing I’d been standing in the foyer for a few seconds too long, I squeezed his arm, using my fingers to acquiesce in seer sign language. When I looked up, his dark eyes held a faint affection, but I saw the worry there, too.

  The press followed us the rest of the way to the stairs, their vid-lights illuminating the crimson rug that ran up the marble steps between massive white columns.

  Careful not to trip in the long dress, I made it all the way to the top of the next landing before I looked back on the crowd following us.

  That time, I managed a warmer smile, and even a small wave.

  A few people shouted up questions when I did, pushing harder against the ropes, fighting to continue recording my image around the shoulders and heads of the heavily-muscled security team.

  “Alyson!” I heard one shout. “Where’s your husband tonight? Is he here?”

  I flinched a little, my smile faltering as I lowered my hand from the wave.

  Vash tugged on my fingers a second time, pulling me away from the crowd.

  “They are waiting for you, my dear,” he said softly.

  I nodded, but didn’t tear my eyes off the reporters right away.

  I tried again not to think about the fact that he was probably watching me even now on the live feeds, along with however-many million humans and seers. I tried to shove out of my mind that he likely would have heard the question I was just asked, and, knowing him, he would have strained for my answer––and noticed every nuance of my facial expression when I didn’t.

  But it was already too late to try and get him out of my head.

  I should have known even the Adhipan and Vash couldn’t keep him out, not if he really wanted to reach me.

  His voice rose softly in my mind.

  I like the gown, love, he murmured.

  I tensed, fighting to keep my reaction off my face.

  His pain slid into me, coursing through every vein in my body.

  You look… He let his light linger, heated, sensual. …good in a dress. Better than good. Fuckable beyond belief. Gaos, Alyson. What are you trying to do to me?

  His pain intensified, making mine unbearable.

  I fought it, trying to blank my mind, but my light flared. It flashed out in a sudden, uncontrolled burst, bright around my physical form.

  Vash stiffened, grasping my fingers on his arm.

  Not that you don’t always make me want to fuck, wife, the voice added, softer. Feeling me flinch, he smiled through the connection between us. His light slid deeper, slow, taking his time. But dearest, I admit… The endearment made me flinch. I’ve got a hard-on you wouldn’t believe right now. What do you say? How about we blow off the party for a few hours, so I can show you? I’d like to show you a few times, actually… a lot of times. I might rip that fucking dress off you, in fact, love…

  His pain flooded into me, making my heart stutter, my mind. He pulled on me as he opened, until I let out a low gasp, my light coiling into his even as I fought to pull it back.

  My heart clenched then, really hearing his words.

  He was here. This wasn’t him screwing with me.

  He was really here, somewhere.

  Vash gripped me tighter, drawing me away from the cameras’ lights. We’d only just turned, about to mount the next set of stairs, when Balidor appeared.

  Really, he more leapt at us, exploding out of the line of guards, fury in his expression. He was by my side in a heart beat, clutching my bare arm in his fingers as he pulled his sidearm, keeping his body in front of mine. He wore a classic black tuxedo, which only made the whole thing that much more surreal.

  With his oddly human good looks and light gray eyes, he looked more like a movie star than a 400-year-old infiltrator, which is what he was.

  Shouts rose from the humans as the gun grew visible. I looked down the stairs, dimly aware of the press as they reacted in alarm below, then with excitement. Those holding cameras and other image capturing devices began straining forward to film us again, while the reporters standing next to them began talking more urgently into their microphones.

  Balidor didn’t seem to notice––or care.

  “Is he here?” he said to me, his gray eyes scanning faces. “Alyson! Is he here? Alyson! Answer me!”

  From Revik, I felt a flicker of amusement…

  Right before his presence evaporated from my light.

  “HELLO,” I SAID, clearing my throat.

  The organic mike picked up my voice, echoing the word across a ballroom that looked intimidatingly large from the stage. Round tables covered in white cloths spiraled before me in symmetrical patterns, covered in silver place settings, china and thin-lipped tulip glasses set around giant flower arrangements.

  The five-star New Delhi hotel was owned by seers, which was the only reason Balidor agreed to have it here. Housed in an old, mansion-like building built in colonial times, it had thirty foot ceilings that echoed my voice up to balconies set above the main floor.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said.

  The press sat in the front rows, taking up more than half of the chairs in the long room. These were the elite corp, not t
he scavengers hounding us outside the hotel’s doors. Knowing they risked being kicked out by an overzealous Adhipan if they stepped out of line, the invited reporters and feed media staff sat perfectly still at their white-clothed tables.

  Only the lights on their image-capturing devices moved as they waited.

  At the expectant and slightly bored looks on their faces, I knew they were only waiting for me to finish my prepared statement so they could get to why they’d really come.

  Behind them sat a more varied party, made up of representatives from the few countries I could get to acknowledge my invite. That group viewed me with slightly less cynical interest, but I sensed more curiosity there than genuine intent to work with me.

  The United States sent an underling––probably the nephew of the Undersecretary of Transportation, or someone along those lines. I knew they meant it as a message, if not an outright insult. Frankly, I was grateful they’d sent anyone at all.

  China politely ignored my invitation.

  Italy, France, Germany and Sweden represented at least some of Europe, but the UK, Austria, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, Denmark, The Netherlands and Switzerland ignored me, too, along with all of Eastern Europe and Russia. So did Japan and most of Africa.

  Mozambique, Niger and Zimbabwe sent people. So did Canada, Australia, Mexico, Uruguay, Cuba, South Korea and Thailand.

  Brazil ignored me, as did Argentina and Peru.

  No one came from the Middle East, but that didn’t surprise me, either.

  Standing in front of several hundred people in formal wear was even harder than I’d imagined while practicing for this speech.

  Even so, something kicked in once I stood behind the podium.

  Maybe it was Vash and the others, holding me up from some place inside the Barrier. Maybe I retained some faint memory of the small amount of acting I did after college, or the speech and debate classes I took back in high school.