The next thing he knew, Revik stood beside him, too.
Before Jon could say anything, or even back away, the Elaerian’s arms wrapped around Jon, so strong they cut his breath. Then Revik was crushing Jon against his chest, nearly hurting him, even as he rocked him against his longer body. Words entered Jon’s mind, but it took Jon a few seconds to realize those came from Revik, too. The seer spoke quietly into his mind, sending warmth, what felt like an apology. The words penetrated more slowly, and when they did, they pulled at him, a low, lulling thread, almost a song.
They’re right, brother. They’re right. Listen to them...they’re all right. I’ve been wrong in this. You’ve been wrong, too. But they’re right.
I’m sorry... Jon began.
There’s no reason to be sorry, Revik assured him, gripping him tighter in his arms. I love you, Jon. You’re my family and I love you...and I’m sorry I let you take the blame for this. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault.
Jon couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.
He felt himself fighting their words still, wanting to hold onto the other for some reason, maybe because it at least made sense to him.
Blaming himself, swearing to himself he would never do anything like that again, that he’d never let it happen again, at least gave him something to hold on to, something that he could wrap his mind around.
Something he could control...or pretend to control, at least.
Instead, Jon just stood there, shaking his head.
Even as he did, the warmth from Revik’s light penetrated his, inexorable, inescapable. Jon felt Allie in that, too, and squeezed his eyes shut. A sob left his throat, before he could stop it. He gripped Revik with his free hand, not letting go of Allie’s with his other. He cried into the other man’s chest, feeling suddenly like he was about ten years old. Feeling seventeen again, when they told him his father was dying. Feeling lost like that, like he had nothing to hold on to ever again, like his whole world had fallen silently apart at his feet.
Like they’d left him. Like he’d been left, over and over, time without end.
We’ll never let them near you again, Revik promised him softly, still sending that heat into his light. We’ll never let them near you again, Jon. I promise I won’t.
Jon could only nod, feeling that pain in his chest worsen as he fought out another breath. He gripped Revik tighter, clenching a fist in the other man’s shirt, even as he felt hands on his back and shoulders, and realized in a kind of shock it was the others. Yumi put her hand on him, and Jorag. Wreg held him, too, and when Jon looked at him, he saw tears in the man’s dark eyes, but something that looked almost like relief, too.
Even Balidor stood there, his light wrapped into the light of the other seers who huddled around Jon in a protective circle, shielding him from the rest of the room.
For a long moment, no one standing around him moved, or spoke a word.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jon found himself aware that Allie still held his hand.
He could almost feel her smiling.
He didn’t turn his head to look.
14
TALK
“I NEED TO talk to you.”
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, for the third time that day.
Jon stiffened, recognizing it before the actual words reached his mind. He turned, feeling his skin flush all the way from his ears to his toes, pretty much the instant he met the other man’s gaze.
“Now?” Jon said, nearly muttering the words.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced around at the crowded conference room. Even though only a handful of them had moved upstairs after the big meet and greet downstairs, it still felt like wall-to-wall people, especially in front of the giant monitors which blared the feeds.
Jon had managed to step away from the rush of welcoming seers long enough to grab a shower and change out of the combat gear and into jeans and a long shirt, but none of them had really stopped since they’d arrived at the hotel, what must be three hours ago now.
To say it had been strange to go back into his old room, the one he’d shared with Dorje once upon a time, and rummage through his old street clothes, would be an understatement in the extreme. Still, ever since they’d done that ‘intervention’ or whatever in the lobby, Jon hadn’t been letting his mind or his light go there really.
He couldn’t even decide if he felt better, exactly.
Mostly, he still felt confused.
Up here, in this room with all of the high-ranked seers and humans from the hotel and San Francisco, Jon still couldn’t decide if the gathering was some kind of pow-wow, meeting type thing or a big party for everyone who had returned from San Francisco.
So far, it felt like some combination of both.
He’d tried to take the opportunity to talk to a few of the humans at least, starting with Dante, who’d changed so much in the intervening months Jon barely recognized her. She’d shorn her hair down into uneven, dark chunks, dropped what looked like twenty pounds in weight, and seemed to both understand and speak seer sign language now...as well as curse in both Prexci and Mandarin. She fit right in with all the hacker-type tech seers, too, so much so, Jon found it almost eerie, and felt more like an outsider than any of them. Her clothes practically hung off her and she still had a teenager’s slouch, but Jon saw her throwing taunts back and forth with Anale and Vikram, who she continually called ‘the Vik-man,’ and even saw her punch Deklan affectionately in the arm when the seer teased her about some private joke.
All in all, she seemed so well assimilated that Jon felt pretty superfluous.
Still, he could tell Dante had been pleased to see him. She’d even given him an awkward, one-armed hug, turning bright red the instant she released him.
She’d definitely done the best out of the humans, in terms of learning to fit in.
Jon spent some time talking to his Aunt Carol and Uncle James, who came upstairs, too. Both of them still hovered protectively over Allie, at least until Revik disappeared with her, about an hour earlier. Jon’s aunt and uncle left, too, not long after, but not before Uncle James shook Jon’s hand and Aunt Carol squeezed him in another tight bear hug.
Jon talked to Frankie, too, along with Angeline, Sasquatch, a few of Allie’s artist friends from school and his cousins Kara, Michelle and Marco. Jon even approached Jaden a second time, although he hadn’t managed to get much out of him apart from a few angry glares and mutters. Jaden disappeared shortly after Allie and Revik did, as well, Jon noticed, but not before he’d lapsed into kind of a sullen silence, sitting on a chair at one edge of the room and staring fixedly at Allie.
Jon didn’t read him to confirm it, but he distinctly got the impression that Jaden saw Allie as drugged and somehow under Revik’s control, maybe even brainwashed.
Jon hadn’t noticed Tina hanging around in any of the groupings that took place since their arrival, either. Tina, Jaden’s girlfriend––at least, the last Jon knew, she’d been Jaden’s girlfriend––had been conspicuously absent since they arrived at the hotel. Jon hadn’t wanted to probe too deeply into whatever that situation might be, but he couldn’t help wondering. If Jaden was back on some kick with Allie again, it was only going to cause problems all around.
Well, assuming it didn’t get him killed outright.
Given how sensitive Revik seemed to be around Allie right now, even more so than the last time they’d been here (which was saying a lot, really), Jon didn’t like Jaden’s chances if he tried to go all stalker on Allie anytime soon.
That being said, Jon knew Revik was embarrassed that he’d lost his cool in front of Aunt Carol and Uncle James. Jon highly suspected that he was mortified, in fact, and not only because both of them looked pretty shocked, whatever they might think of Jaden himself.
“Brother?”
Jon turned, realizing he’d let his mind and eyes wander again. Reddening a second time, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, clearing
his throat.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was just thinking I’m not sure I should leave.”
“Why?”
Jon shrugged, but still couldn’t hold that dark stare. “You know.” He gestured lamely around the room. “...That whole ‘command’ thing.”
Wreg’s hands went to his hips, gripping them with a little more force than usual. He stared at Jon for a moment, as if thinking. Long enough for Jon to shift his weight on his feet, even as he let his eyes once more scan faces around the room. A few of the seers looked away from him quickly after catching his gaze, and Jon found himself thinking that they all knew Wreg stood next to him, even if they didn’t look directly at the tattooed seer’s face or body.
Exhaling shortly, Wreg ran a hand through his black hair, which he no longer wore in a clip. He looked Jon up and down, the scrutiny in his eyes on the surface.
“You don’t want to talk to me.” It wasn’t a question.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“I told you what...” Jon began, flustered.
“All right.” Wreg held up a calming hand, but his eyes held a faint impatience, despite the evenness of his voice. “I understand. But they can spare you, Jon. I waited until you did the rounds with Dante and the others. And it really can’t wait.”
“What can’t wait?” Jon said, wary.
At the silence his question produced, Jon lifted his gaze a second time. His eyes met those dark, obsidian-like irises, and that time, Jon found he couldn’t look away. Seeing the harder expression forming there, Jon swallowed, breaking the stare.
“Sorry,” he muttered. Clicking softly, he exhaled, running a hand through his own hair. For the first time, it occurred to him how long it had gotten. Not long-long, but it had grown out significantly in the months since he’d cut it down to about an inch in length on top, the last time he was in New York. It had certainly grown more than he’d noticed, curling down past his ears and the back of his neck.
It hadn’t occurred to him to be self-conscious about that, either. Not until now, anyway.
“Okay,” he said, forcing his eyes back to Wreg’s. “Where?”
Wreg only turned, motioning for Jon to follow.
Jon felt his muscles stiffening as he did as the seer asked. Pain already fought and tightened over his skin in some part of his aleimi, especially in the area of his chest. Reluctance lived there, strong enough that he knew Wreg could probably feel that in his light, too. Like Balidor... hell, more than Balidor, even... Wreg always felt more than he let on.
Especially now, when he had his light sealed up tighter than a vault.
Jon felt the fear in his own light, too, maybe even stronger than the reluctance.
Whatever Wreg was about to tell him, Jon already knew he probably wouldn’t want to hear it. Worse, he knew he might not be able to handle it... not today of all days, when he already felt like his heart had been ripped open and exposed to the entire construct, even if they’d been gentle about it, probably more so than he deserved.
Wreg hadn’t said much of anything to him yet, but this was starting to feel like every other prelude to a conversation Jon had had with one of his lovers that began with the phrase, We have to talk.
He only marginally noticed where Wreg actually took him.
The tattooed seer seemed to know where he was going.
He didn’t hesitate as he walked Jon down a carpeted corridor and then out into the lobby of the business offices on the forty-third floor, where the impromptu gathering had been hosted, probably because they had the largest conference rooms and a kitchen. The remaining employees of the businesses that leased this space prior to the whole mess of the quarantine and the tsunami had been incorporated into the rest of their ‘refugee camp’ by then, anyway. Then again, the lines between all the different groups, including between human and seer in many cases, had been blurring more and more over the preceding months.
Jon himself hadn’t spent much time on these floors, however.
He gazed around at the tasteful art on the walls, focusing briefly on the etched names of departments on organic glass, oddly incongruous with the long planter boxes growing tomatoes, spinach and red-leaf lettuce under full-spectrum lights that had been moved up here following the floods. He recognized the company logo on each of the doors, however.
Arc Enterprises.
Jon only found out after they’d been working with them over a year that the name of the company was one of those hidden tributes to the Bridge. Fitting, Jon supposed, given that it was an illegally-owned seer business.
Well, illegal before. All of that stuff was pretty irrelevant now.
Wreg cleared his throat.
Jon turned his head, his hands still shoved in his pockets, only to find Wreg holding open a door. It looked like a smaller conference room, or maybe a large office.
Feeling his nerves ratchet up a few more gears, Jon swallowed, averting his eyes as he passed by the seer to enter the room.
Once he had, he found himself in a plush, large-windowed executive office, one that practically oozed wealth. The long windows had a view of the park... a surprisingly clear view, given the storms Jon remembered from the last time he’d been in New York. Jon could see smoke from the airfield coming up in black clouds still, and wondered if Shadow’s people had gone back to salvage anything from the wreckage Revik left behind. He was still looking out over that view, squinting at what looked like a gang of people in street clothes running down an alley off Fifth Avenue, when Wreg cleared his throat again.
When Jon turned that time, the muscular seer folded his arms across his chest.
He’d closed the door behind them. To his left, an expensive-looking leather couch the color of cinnamon stood beneath an in-built bookcase filled with what looked like scientific manuals mostly: physics, engineering, some project management and business books. Jon knew they were probably decorative only, but couldn’t help staring at the amount of money represented there.
He could feel his own avoidance like a tangible force now.
“Jon,” Wreg began. Shifting his weight on his feet, the muscular seer paused, exhaling, as if collecting his thoughts.
Jon noticed Wreg wasn’t looking at him now, either.
“...Jon, I can’t do this anymore.”
Jon felt that pain in his chest worsen. He didn’t speak. The concept of speech felt far away suddenly, and anyway, he could tell the seer hadn’t finished.
“...It’s not just mixed signals, Jon,” Wreg said, exhaling again, his voice heavier that time. “It’s no signals. Nothing for months. It’s cutting me out... only to ask me not to fuck other people. In public, I might add. Where others heard it...”
Jon felt his face reddening, remembering what he’d done in the lobby, when he’d seen Wreg with that female seer, Preela. He felt some part of him that wanted to protest, to explain himself, but Wreg seemed to feel it, and raised a hand, maybe to preempt any words.
“I’ve talked to the others,” Wreg added, raising his eyes for the first time.
His dark eyes looked almost dangerous, but Jon saw the wall there, too. He felt glimmers behind it, but not enough to make sense of what he felt. He recognized the wall, though. He knew what it meant.
“...They all agree with me,” Wreg added. “This isn’t a tenable situation, Jon. Not for what’s going on right now. They’ve asked me to resolve it in some way.”
Jon swallowed.
When the silence stretched, he found himself speaking, almost without understanding his own words. “Resolve it?” he said.
His voice came out low. So low, he wondered if the seer even heard it.
He did hear it, though.
“Yes,” Wreg said. His voice sounded heavy once more. Widening his stance slightly, he refolded his arms. “Jon, I think our options are pretty limited at this point.” He took another breath, looking away. “You’ve made it clear you don’t want to be with me right now,” he added. “
I’ve told you from the beginning... I said I’d respect any decision you made on that front, that I wouldn’t push. But under the circumstances, if that’s where this is going, I think we need to sever it... the connection, I mean. You and me.”
He hesitated, maybe seeing something in Jon’s face.
When Jon didn’t speak, Wreg averted his gaze, making a vague gesture with one hand, without unfolding his arms.
“Nenz... Balidor. The old woman. They said they’d help with this.” Wreg shrugged, still looking away, towards the wall. “They’re just waiting for the signal from me.”
Again, he seemed to be waiting, but Jon didn’t speak.
Shrugging, Wreg went on, his voice gruff.
“I didn’t want to just do it,” he said. “...Not without talking to you. I don’t want there to be hard feelings, Jon... at least not any more than I can help. I don’t want you to think I won’t be there for you, or that we can’t be friends at some point. When I’m... I don’t know...”
He made another vague gesture with his hand.
“...Over all of this, I guess.”
His voice sounded deadened as he finished, stripped of anything.
“Jon, I need you to give me permission to do this,” he said, when Jon still hadn’t spoken. “Maybe it’s me being old-fashioned, but I feel like, even if we didn’t have anything formal in place, we’ve had agreements in the past. I’m asking you to release me from them. I’m asking you to...”
His words trailed.
Jon felt the seer staring at him again, felt some kind of reaction flicker off the other man’s light, pretty much the instant that dark head turned to look at him. Jon almost couldn’t feel it at that point though, couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t see him anymore. He couldn’t see anything in the room, but he couldn’t seem to go unconscious, either.
Allie's War Season Four Page 30
