Sword

by JC Andrijeski

I stared up at him. “Of course I’m sure. Why would I lie?”

  His fingers relaxed.

  Feigran was Terian––what was left of him, anyway. The Adhipan did look for him at one point, but as far as I knew, he’d disappeared entirely after he dumped down somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Last I knew, Balidor theorized he was dead.

  Clearly Revik was looking for him, too. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know why, but something in the question made me nervous.

  I fought with the idea of asking, but in the end, I didn’t.

  We rode the rest of the way up in silence.

  The button he’d pressed on the elevator panel––marked PH, presumably for “Penthouse”––clicked off right before the elevator stopped with a cheerful ding. Without looking at me, Revik tightened his hold on my hand and led me off.

  It crossed my mind to wonder if maybe Balidor had been right. Maybe Revik really was going to try to leave Delhi with me. We were awfully close to the roof right now, and I happened to know the hotel came equipped with a helipad.

  Glancing down, I realized I still clutched the handgun he’d given me, hidden in the folds of the green dress.

  He guided me around a corner and into a longer corridor. At the end, two of his people stood at the entrance of a hotel suite.

  I knew they were his, even before I saw the tattoos.

  Both of them bowed respectfully as we drew closer, rising to their feet as soon as we came into view.

  One, I didn’t know. He gazed at me with an open reverence in his eyes.

  The other, a broad-shouldered, Chinese-looking seer with a long black braid that hung down his back and arms covered with tattoos, I recognized. Balidor had shown me his picture while debriefing me on Revik’s inner circle. We’d also met briefly when I woke up from whatever drugs they’d given me to get me off the White House grounds in Washington D.C.

  He’d originally belonged to Salinse.

  “Bridge,” he said, bowing again in a friendly way. “Esteemed Sister. We are honored by your presence… more than words allow.”

  “Wreg,” I said, nodding back.

  The one I didn’t know started a bit, seeing the gun in my hand, but Revik waved him off, warning him with a look. The seer stood out of my way, still staring at me in the dress, the expression in his eyes bordering on worshipful.

  Religious fanatics. Great. Nice company he was keeping.

  I bit my lip as the door was opened for me. I felt both of them watching me minutely. I felt their deference to Revik, but their curiosity, too.

  I knew Wreg helped plan the operation at the White House.

  For that, alone, I could have punched him in the mouth.

  Revik had been himself back then, more or less. He’d been trying to rescue me from that same psychotic seer, Terian, and an even more psychotic telekinetic kid named Nenzi.

  He’d succeeded, in part by killing the boy. The problem was, that boy was actually a vessel for a part of Revik himself.

  My husband, as it turned out, was the most famous seer who’d ever lived.

  Well, infamous, really.

  During World War I, he’d killed thousands of humans and “traitor” seers as Syrimne, leader of the first organized seer rebellion against human beings. In an effort to turn him into a living weapon, his handlers first turned him into a psychopath––or, at best, a severely misguided religious fanatic with a mandate to wreak vengeance on humanity.

  Following the war, Vash and the other elders tried to save him by cutting out the most dangerous parts of his personality and housing them in the body of a twenty-two year old male seer named Nenzi. When Revik killed that same boy in Washington D.C., those parts of his aleimi, or living light, returned to the original body.

  They also effectively killed the man I’d fallen in love with.

  Whether and how much the more stable parts of Revik’s personality managed to moderate the rest was anyone’s best guess at that point. It was a question everyone in the Seven had been trying to answer since the fiasco in D.C. Vash warned me, however, that the more aggressive sides of Revik had always been dominant.

  Following him inside the penthouse suite, it struck me that I still had no answer to that question. It also struck me that what I was doing was foolhardy in the extreme. I’d seen as much in Balidor’s eyes.

  I couldn’t fully bring myself to care, though, even now.

  The room on the other side of that door was empty––of people, at least.

  Expensive-looking furnishings gave the suite a warm but almost antiquated look. I saw a silver ice bucket with a bottle of champagne beside a lit fireplace. The fireplace stood against the far wall, made of dark red stone that contrasted with pale blue curtains and a dusty rose carpet. Cowhide sofas stood on either side of a patterned rug before the hearth. Massive windows overlooking the nighttime lights of old New Delhi took up most of the rest of the back wall.

  Looking at the champagne, I felt my jaw harden.

  I looked at Revik, but he had his back to me. I aimed my scowl at the fireplace and the candles I saw lit on the low table, instead.

  “What is this?” I said. Hearing the door to the hallway close behind me, I motioned towards the champagne and the candles. “You can’t possibly be serious with this, given everything. Is this supposed to be a joke? Because I’m not laughing.”

  When I turned, he stood directly behind me.

  Before I could move away, his arm slid around my waist. He brought me up against him, melting the length of his body against mine. I reacted to the contact before my mind could catch up––or even come up with a coherent reason why I shouldn’t be letting him do it.

  My light opened just as fast; I felt the thing connecting us pull on me like a drug.

  I braced myself to be kissed, but he just looked at me, his eyes taking in my body in the emerald green dress. He didn’t hide his appraisal.

  I found myself reacting to his stare, too.

  The best I could do with that was to avert my gaze.

  “Are you going to lose the gun at least?” he said.

  Looking down at my hand, I saw I still held it. After the barest pause, I loosened my fingers, letting it drop to the carpeted floor. It was useless to me anyway. If I killed him, there was still a reasonably good chance I’d die myself.

  And I wasn’t ready to kill him. I might not ever be ready to kill him.

  Revik continued to study my eyes.

  After a pause, he shook his head, clicking softly to himself.

  “So what is this separation bullshit?” The faint German accent remained with his English. He pulled me closer still, so I could feel him hardening against me. “Are you trying to hurt my feelings? Or are you just pissed off it’s taken me this long to come for you?”

  I shook my head, unable to answer at first.

  I felt his stare intensify. “Are you going to talk to me?”

  “Revik.” I firmed my lips, fighting to clear my head. “What are you doing here?”

  For a moment he didn’t move.

  I felt him staring at me. I felt his frown as he watched me avoid his eyes.

  Then, without warning, everything changed.

  He opened his light.

  That time, I let out a low gasp. It turned into a panting moan as I clutched his shirt, closing my eyes. He wasn’t gentle; he didn’t try to coax me to open in return. His light wound invasively into mine, pulling on me with an intensity that blacked out any semblance of reason. My limbs, my light, even my mind, lost all resistance. I felt it do the same to him––right before his pain intensified more, until I barely recognized his light at all.

  It slid into that deprivation place I’d glimpsed in the boy, but never on the adult Revik.

  His fingers gripped my hair hard enough to hurt.

  “Goddamn it, Allie.” His voice grew thick.

  The emotion I heard in it brought a sharp pain to my chest. He pressed into me again, his fingers gripping the fabric of the dress.


  “Maybe we can talk after,” he murmured, staring at my body again. “I’m assuming you need this as badly as I do.”

  Fear reached me, for the first time.

  We’d never been together like this.

  He’d wanted to. He came to find me in the Pamir, not long after he killed the boy, and he’d wanted sex. He wanted me to leave with him. Before he could talk me into it, he’d tripped the construct alarms and had to flee, or risk getting caught by the Adhipan, who’d been looking for him obsessively even then.

  I hadn’t been this close to him since.

  Now, looking up at him, it struck me he’d changed since then, too.

  Either way, this wouldn’t just be a watered down version of the Revik I’d known. I could already feel differences in his light. I’d felt them that night in the Pamir. I’d be sleeping with the boy this time. I’d be sleeping with the sociopath who worked for the Rooks. I’d be sleeping with Syrimne. More than that, I’d be sleeping with another Elaerian––an intermediary being, like me.

  I had no idea what that would do to me.

  I had no idea what that would do to either of us.

  I started to push him back, but his hands only tightened on me.

  “Baby,” he murmured against my ear. “Please. Gaos. Let’s make up—”

  “Revik!” I caught his hand as he kissed my throat. He slid his mouth lower, to the exposed part of my breasts. I pulled his fingers off even as I stepped back, separating us.

  “The Adhipan won’t wait that long.” I clenched my jaw, fighting to breathe, to get my mind to work. “You know what’ll happen. We can’t do this. We can’t.”

  My words weren’t convincing, to either of us. I heard it in my voice.

  He just looked at me for a moment.

  When I didn’t back down, he nodded, his lip curving slightly, but not really in a smile. For a second at least, I actually thought he intended to let me go.

  As soon as I started to pull away, his arm tightened.

  He kissed my mouth without warning, drawing me deeper into the curve of his body. I kissed him back without thinking about that too clearly, either.

  His mouth was the same. Maddeningly, frustratingly the same.

  His tongue, the taste of him, the way he pulled me into him as he inhaled my breath, the deliberate sensuality behind every touch of his tongue and lips. Pain wound through me when he deepened the kiss, his fingers wrapping tighter into my hair. I felt him put more of himself into it, more of his light, more of his presence, and my pain worsened to unbearable.

  I’d always loved the way he kissed.

  He let out a low groan, hearing me, and my light opened––enough that his aleimi flared in response. Before I could pull my mind back together, his light turned to liquid heat, flooding mine, dragging me into the rest of him.

  Everything about it, about what he was doing, it all felt utterly different, almost alien, but so familiar I couldn’t think through either thing, or even disentangle them. His light did things to mine now, connected with mine in ways I’d wanted before, ways I’d tried to coax out of him in our few weeks of real marriage, but couldn’t.

  I felt the boy’s deprivation, a wanting that felt older than either of us.

  I was starting to lose awareness. I was losing myself, going back into that state I’d fallen into when we’d last been together.

  It terrified me.

  “Stop!” I shoved him back, hard.

  I didn’t just use my hands that time. I used my light.

  It ripped out of me, that sense of folding space, of force originating from somewhere over my head. That part of me slammed into him, without my hands touching his chest.

  It forced him toppling and skidding backwards about seven feet.

  He regained his balance, hopping on one foot.

  I saw him stare at me, his eyes glassy, half-lidded.

  Then he blinked, and those clear eyes turned predatory.

  “Gods, baby.” His pain worsened, slamming into me, making my hand rise to my chest, making me gasp as I rubbed the spot that hurt. He watched my fingers, and the pain coming off him sharpened more. “Gaos. You are so fucking beautiful. Allie… you’re so goddamned beautiful.”

  I stared at him. He stared back, his eyes holding a desire that cut my breath.

  “Wife. You have no idea what a hard-on you just gave me.” He took a step closer. “When did you learn to do that? Is it from me?”

  I held up a hand. “Revik! Jesus… will you just be reasonable for a minute?”

  His words affected me though. More than that, his light remained wrapped in mine, confusing me to the point where I had trouble holding his gaze.

  He took a step closer.

  “Do it again.” His voice turned cajoling, affectionate. Loving, I realized, seeing his face soften. “Gods, do it again, Alyson. I’ll show you something, too. You have no idea how badly I want to show you. I’ll spend days showing you, if you let me…”

  It felt like being stabbed in the chest, again.

  “Stay back!” I said. “Please, Revik. Stay back!”

  He came to a halt, but I could tell from his eyes he only half-heard me.

  “Allie,” he said. “There’s so much I want to share with you. Please… gaos. Stop this. Fucking stop it! Just come with me. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything. What are you doing with these worm-lovers, anyway? You belong with me.”

  I held up my hand again, breathing harder. “Revik, I know what you’re doing.” I shook my head, swallowing. “I’m not going to let you do this to me. I’m not.”

  His face hardened. I felt another flush of pain off him, along with an anger that startled me more for the genuineness I felt behind it.

  “What I’m doing?” he growled. “What am I doing, Allie? Besides trying to seduce my wife… who seems to think a fucking political disagreement merits a goddamned divorce.”

  I stared at him.

  His eyes didn’t waver.

  “A political disagreement? Is that what you’re telling yourself this is?” I fought back another wave of feeling. I could barely look at his face. “Jesus, Revik. Are you really going to pretend that your being here has nothing to do with who I am? Or that if we’re mated, no one on my side would dare try to kill you?”

  “We already are mated, Alyson,” he growled.

  I shook my head. “You know what I mean.”

  “No,” he snapped. “I don’t.” His anger flared again. “And you’re lying to me, Allie. Or to yourself, maybe. You know damned well that’s not why I’m here.”

  Before I could take a breath, something grabbed hold of me, like invisible arms. It was too strong to fight. Hell, it was over before I even realized what was happening.

  The gap between us closed.

  His physical arms encircled me. By then, I was so lost in his light I couldn’t extricate myself, or even convince myself to try. He let out a low groan when my light wound deeper into his, and that was so familiar I found myself gripping his arms.

  When he kissed me that time, I kissed him back, clutching his hair.

  I realized for the first time it was longer, a well-cut, shaggy black that felt soft as I curled my fingers into it. He pulled me against him, and I felt the boy there again, a near disbelief that I was finally letting him touch me. That disbelief worsened when I put my hands on him. I felt him pulling on me to touch him more, to let him touch me. There was something so vulnerable about that part of him I couldn’t make myself want to push it away.

  I wanted him like this.

  The realization hurt. I hated myself for it; it felt like the worst kind of betrayal, but it didn’t change anything.

  I wanted him.

  He heard me. He let out a heavy sound, right before his pain grew intense again, darkening into that lack. The separation worsened past the point where I could see anything else. I felt my control slide away and he groaned again, against my mouth that time. I felt the boy, stronger than the others. I felt
the want behind him, behind the other parts of him that were left behind, and it was more than I could stand with my rational mind.

  I would have done anything at that moment to lessen it––anything.

  I don’t remember my feet moving, but suddenly my back was against the wall. He leaned into me, kissing me harder, his hands all over me through the gown, his legs between mine. He paused long enough to look at me again, his eyes glassed.

  “Allie,” he said thickly. “Come home with me. Come home with me, wife. I’ll buy you a dozen dresses. Anything you want. Anything.”

  “No,” I managed.

  One of his hands was under the dress now, holding my leg, holding me against him. His fingers dug deeper into my flesh, even as he met my gaze.

  “I want to make love,” he said. “Now, Allie. Will you let me?”

  I didn’t think about the question long.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Do you love me?”

  I hesitated, staring at his eyes.

  When I didn’t answer, pain flared in his light.

  That time, it wasn’t separation pain.

  He removed his hand from my leg, long enough to grab the front of the dress. He ripped it open, one-handed, and I felt the deliberateness behind that, too. I opened my mouth to snap at him, but he only kissed me again, harder, and again I felt the boy in it, mixed with that other person, the one who frightened me. His light wound into mine, and for a moment, I felt him toying with it, experimenting…

  Until he found what he wanted.

  I let out a choking gasp. His light slid so far up into mine I actually came close to losing consciousness. I couldn’t see, had no awareness of where I was.

  I ended up in the Barrier, lost with him, in some other place…

  When my eyes slowly came back into focus, he was holding me up with one arm, watching my face, his eyes dense, his skin flushed hot. He closed his eyes, longer than a blink, and I realized both of us were sweating. His fingers tightened on my bare back.

  “That’s what you wanted from me,” he murmured, kissing my face, my mouth. “Before, in the cabin. That’s what you wanted. Isn’t it, baby?”

  He kissed me harder, his tongue hot in my mouth, and I found myself reacting to the pain coming off him again, the erection that seemed larger when he pressed it against me. He was turned on to the point where all of his muscles had melted, merging into me.