The Seer

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The Seer Page 10

by MacArran, Ariel


  Jolar looked as if he were trying to place her.

  “We were seated at your table last night,” Kemma reminded.

  His face lit with recognition. “That’s right,” he said, “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jolar Legan.” He unwrapped one arm from around Arissa to shake Lian’s hand.

  “Good to meet you,” Lian said.

  “I’m sorry we intruded,” Kemma said, smiling between them. “I didn’t realize it was your honeymoon.”

  “It’s not,” Jolar said. “We’ve been married for almost four years.”

  “Really?” Puzzlement rippled off Kemma. “I’m sorry. You two are just so—” She laughed lightly. “Well, you’re happily married anyway.”

  Jolar shifted his weight. “I have a lot to be grateful for.”

  “Remember that.” Kemma glanced at Arissa. “Your wife is charming. She deserves your best.”

  “Yes.” Jolar’s eyes narrowed a bit. “She does.”

  The odd tension between them was making Arissa’s stomach clench. “How’s the food here?”

  “Wonderful,” Lian said. “The onka cakes with the gravy were delicious. Kemma had the fruit platter like she always does.”

  “Occupational hazard.” Kemma said with a wry smile. “Constant dieting.”

  Jolar’s smile was puzzled. “Are you an actress?”

  Kemma smirked up at him playfully. “It’s a sad day indeed when you Fleet types don’t recognize a Niman Ornament.”

  “How did you know I was in the Fleet?” Jolar asked sharply.

  “I thought—” Kemma looked at Arissa, confused. “Didn’t you say the last time you moved he was on patrol?”

  “Yes,” Arissa agreed immediately. “At dinner we were talking about moving and last time I had to do everything because you were—”

  “At the border,” Jolar finished with a smile as his tension fell. “She had to handle it all alone. I’m not sure I’ll ever live it down.”

  “So who bought breakfast?” Arissa asked. “They had a bet that the last night’s winner would buy breakfast today,” she explained to Jolar.

  “Kelm and I split the cost of the fruit platter. My only good luck is that Kemma is such a light eater.” He shook his head fondly. “I don’t know why I ever let you goad me into betting with you. I always lose.”

  Kemma gave him a fond nudge, her affection for her protector not at all feigned. “Not always.”

  The line moved again and Lian glanced toward the host’s station. “Well, looks like you’re up next so we’ll let you go.”

  Kemma nodded to Jolar and gave Arissa a warm smile. “I hope to see you again.”

  Arissa grinned back, sensing Kemma’s sincerity. “I’d really like that.”

  “An Ornament?” Jolar raised an eyebrow, sliding his hands around her again. “I’m not sure I want you keeping company with someone like that. Might be a bad influence.”

  “Funny. What was that about Niman Ornaments and Fleet types?”

  His face colored.

  Suddenly the humor of it was gone. He’d had other lovers, of course he’d had. Women as beautiful as Kemma had heated a bed with him—women whose soft limbs sought to hold him a little longer when the sun rose, whose lips parted with sighs of regret when he’d left them . . .

  “Name?”

  Arissa turned to the hostess, breaking Jolar’s hold. “Legan.”

  The woman entered the name and smiling led them to a table for two.

  Caf, juice and tea were soon served, the staff bustling around them as they attended to patrons. The restaurant was humming with activity, many of the tables filled with families with children.

  “Place is swamped,” Jolar observed. “I hope we get breakfast before it’s time for dinner.”

  Arissa kept her eyes on her menu, upset yet still ravenous enough to finish off half the offerings.

  Jolar ordered sular steak and eggs, Arissa choose onka cakes with grimp toast and fruit.

  She threw a narrowed look at the waiter’s raised eyebrows. Spend a few months starving on Tellar and then talk to me about the size of my breakfast.

  “What do you want to do today?” Jolar asked, lifting his mug of caf. “There’s still lots on board we didn’t try yesterday.”

  She shrugged. A toddler at the next table howled and his exasperated mother tried again to get him to drink his juice. “Whatever you like.”

  “We haven’t been to the pool or the gaming center. We could try our luck at one of the casinos.”

  “You choose.”

  The boy continued to fuss. Arissa rubbed at her forehead with the pads of her fingers.

  “Are you angry with me?” Jolar asked quietly. “You’re hardly looking at me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She stirred nectar into her tea as the boy whimpered. “I don’t have any right to be upset.”

  “Sure you do.” Jolar gave her a searching look. “If you think you’re only one of dozens.”

  She winced. “Only dozens?”

  “Sweet,” Jolar said softly, his blue eyes serious as the boy arched away from his mother. “This is different.”

  “Festering hell!” Arissa cried, twisting to glare the boy’s mother, her hand pressed against her temple. “Take him to the medcenter, his ears hurt!”

  The woman blinked, her mouth parting and shock rippled through the restaurant at Arissa’s outburst.

  Arissa’s gaze darted from one set of staring eyes to the next.

  Run! Oh, gods, have to run before they—

  Jolar’s hand closed over hers.

  “Our nephew does that,” Jolar said a little too loudly. “Poor kid’s had so many ear infections I’m not sure my sister slept a whole night last year.”

  The woman looked down at the boy in her arms. He was tugging on one of his ears, his big brown eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh! Oh, I didn’t even think of that! He’s been so cranky that I thought just the schedule change but—” The woman gently touched her son’s ear. “Oh, numkin, is that what’s wrong?”

  Jolar’s thumb stroked the back of her hand as Arissa sought to control her trembling. The conversations and clatter of silverware on plates began to fill the restaurant again as the woman carried her child out.

  “Good,” Jolar said brightly to the waiter who arrived with their meals. “I’m starving.”

  He poured himself more caf. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

  She raised frightened eyes to his.

  “It is.” He glanced around. “Check for yourself.”

  Wetting her lips, she did but found no hint of lingering interest or suspicion.

  “You’re not going to make me eat this all by myself, are you?” he asked.

  Their little table was full of food, most of it her order.

  Last night and this morning were the happiest times of her whole life and she’d just ruined it all. Swallowing hard, she lifted her fork.

  Jolar kept up the conversation but she could scarcely manage a few mumbled replies. He told her a story about his first time on a Fleet patrol, how the captain had a special shuttle run made when he found out that the caf in food stores had gone moldy.

  “Two things you don’t mess with,” Jolar said, standing at meal’s end. “Their pay and their caf. The Fleet will put up with just about anything else.”

  He took her hand as they exited the Twin Suns. “Where to?”

  Arissa avoided his gaze. “Back to our suite.”

  “Nope,” he said cheerfully. “How about the Lightside casino? You didn’t get to go with them last night. We could try our luck at tongo.”

  She pulled against his hold. “I want to go to our suite now.”

  He sighed deeply. “Arissa, for gods’ sake, I’m just one man. You have to give me some time to recover before you take me back to bed.”

  “Are you trying to be funny?” she burst out.

  “Yes,” he said solemnly. “How am I doing?”

  Hot tears stung her
eyes.

  “All right,” he said quietly. He led her out of the foot traffic and beside one of the fountains. Surrounded by greenery and the few benches nearby unoccupied it was a private spot in the middle of the busy deck.

  He took her hands in his and leaned forward to look into her eyes. “You can’t let this throw you.”

  “Jolar,” she whispered, “you saw what I did.”

  “Yes. You helped a little boy who was in pain, a mother who was exhausted and a room full of people have a much more pleasant breakfast.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “I gave myself away. If you hadn’t been there—”

  “I was there,” he reminded. “I mean it, Arissa. You can’t ruminate on one misstep. It happened, we dealt with it, now we move on.”

  “My kind of missteps hurt people.”

  He shook his head gently. “You didn’t hurt anyone. You helped that boy and his mother. You helped.”

  “But—but if I hadn’t said anything—”

  “That poor kid would still be howling in pain. You think that would have been better?”

  Arissa hesitated. “Of course I didn’t want him in pain.”

  “So you did something about it.”

  Arissa swallowed. “I shouldn’t have. I should have more control.”

  “Well, maybe you didn’t have to shout,” he allowed. “And the colorful language might be something to phase out. I think it was more that you were trying to pretend like there was nothing wrong, trying to ignore a problem you knew damn well was happening.”

  Arissa shifted her feet. “What do you mean?”

  “Look, maybe instead of trying not to be a—what you are—maybe it’s time to be what you are.” His fingers intertwined with hers. “Sweet, the time for you to hide is over. Like it or not, you’re going to have to learn to live out here with the rest of us fracked-up people now. Put what you can do to good use. It’s that simple.”

  “Jolar, it’s not that easy.”

  He shook his head again. “I didn’t say easy. I said simple. You’ve spent your whole life fighting against what you are.” He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s time to learn how to make the most of it.”

  She swallowed hard but his warm acceptance was impossible to resist. “By playing cards?”

  “Yes, among other things.” He leaned down to kiss her; his mouth was light over hers then deepened. He broke away a little breathless. “Casino or activity center?”

  “I don’t know how to play tongo,” she mumbled.

  “Then we’re evenly matched because I don’t know how to play well.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Come on. Let’s lose some money.”

  Folding his arms, Jolar threw her a mock exasperated look and muttered: “‘Oh, but Jolar, I don’t know how to play tongo!’”

  Arissa spared him a glance, then counted out ten chips from the growing pile in front of her and moved them into the pot.

  The Gensoyan across the table narrowed dark eyes as hard as duracrete at her as if he could glean the values of the cards she held by glaring. He was a heavy-set man, and like so many from his homeworld, he was dark haired with an olive cast to his skin. Jeweled rings adorned his fat fingers, the stones flashing as he examined his cards. By the tightness of the gold bracelets against his wrists and the now too small necklaces under the rolls at his neck, a good deal of that jewelry had likely been purchased when he was a younger, and much slimmer, man.

  He drank Utavian desert spirits straight up and either his girth or his annoyance had him grunting every few minutes. With his heavy dark brows pulled low over his glittering black eyes he had the ill-humored look of a man who was dangerous when crossed.

  And he couldn’t bluff to save his life.

  But then again apparently neither could anyone else, at least, not against her. Jolar had thrown in his last hand two hours ago, declaring that there was no point in continuing to lose to his own wife. A number of players had come and gone in the time she’d sat here and all the poorer for it.

  She didn’t win every hand. Sometimes her cards just weren’t good enough to stay in but she followed the elation, disappointment or angry discouragement of her competitors and played accordingly, folding when her cards weren’t good enough, driving the bet insanely high when another player’s bravado wasn’t backed up by the cards he held.

  I can’t believe I was lifting billfolds in the market, running from place to place, terrified, when I could have been sitting in a nice comfortable casino instead.

  The Gensoyan pursed his thick lips. Grunting again, he leaned forward and counted out ten chips. Feigning nonchalance, he threw them into the huge pot.

  The Sertarian to Arissa’s right, the only other player at the tongo table with them, took another look at his cards and shook his head. “Nope, I’m out.”

  The Sertarian put his cards in front of the dealer and handed the woman a couple chips as a tip. He collected his drink he headed off, leaving just Arissa and Gensoyan in the game.

  The Gensoyan smiled—not a pleasant thing by any means—then lifted his hand and extended his sausage-like fingers in invitation. “The bet is to you.”

  Arissa looked at her cards. It wasn’t a great hand. Three ladies, a mage and two of the lesser suit.

  She kept her eyes on her cards and reached . . . past Jolar’s amusement, the dealer’s growing fatigue and just brushed the Gensoyan’s mind . . .

  She counted out twenty chips.

  Jolar’s surprise rippled. “You’re going to bet that?”

  She placed the twenty in front of Jolar. “No.” Arissa shoved the rest of her little mountain of chips into the pot. “I’m going to bet that.”

  There was burst of shock from all three and they all, the dealer, Jolar and the Gensoyan, regarded her in stunned silence.

  The dealer cleared her throat. “Will you see the bet, sir?”

  The Gensoyan’s jowls were shaking as he stood. He threw the cards on the table and stormed away.

  “Damnedest luck I ever saw.” Jolar grinned, then kissed her cheek. “Sweet, I think you could break the bank.”

  The dealer began to push the pile toward her but Arissa held up a hand. “No, I think I’m done.”

  “Hey, I don’t mind,” Jolar protested. “I mean, sure, my manhood is threatened but I could get used to my wife supporting me.”

  “No,” Arissa demurred. “I’m done for today.” She reached to the stack of twenty chips and put them in front of the dealer. “For you.”

  The woman blinked then gave a wide smile. “Thank you, ma’am. Do you want to cash out or shall I get a basket for your chips?”

  “More like an anti-gav unit,” Jolar said eyeing her winnings.

  “I want to cash out,” Arissa said to the dealer.

  It took a few minutes for the dealer to count it all. “Shall I add it to your shipboard account?”

  “No,” Jolar said. “Cash.”

  Arissa’s lips parted at the sight of the stack of rainbow hued credits placed in front of her. There were nearly twenty-five thousand credits sitting there.

  For an instant she was back in that alley, ready to sell her innocence to Jolar for a hundred credits and a chance to sleep in a bed . . .

  “Arissa?” Jolar brushed a curl away from her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. It’s just a lot of money.” She looked down at her expensive new clothes and gave a short laugh. “I don’t have any pockets. Will you carry it for me?”

  “I think my own winnings have left me a little room,” he joked, scooping it up.

  She took his hand as they left, a little surprised when the lights and the noise of the casino came back into her awareness. She could feel the sea of emotions around her now, a turbulent ocean of disappointments, anger, elation and loneliness. It was astonishing that she had been able to shut them out and focus for so long.

  “What now?” he asked as they exited the casino. “Are you hungry or do you want wait till dinner?”r />
  “I’m surprised they didn’t offer us anything to eat in the casino. They certainly were generous with the drinks.”

  “Eating might help sober you up. They don’t want players thinking straight if they can help it.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not hungry.” She smiled. “Not yet anyway.”

  “Well, let’s spend time somewhere a little more wholesome than a gambling den. How about the activity center?”

  She brightened. “I’d love to! I’ve never—I haven’t been to the one onboard.”

  “Well, then.” Jolar smiled. “Let’s go play with the other kids.”

  “What about this is supposed to be fun?” Arissa demanded, the room pitch black around them. “I can’t see a starblasted thing.”

  “Actually, this could be a whole lot of fun,” Jolar murmured, his hands going around her waist to pull her against him. He was warm against her back and the timbre of his voice sent a tightening between her thighs.

  “I know you’re teasing.” She caught her breath as his hands slid lightly over her breasts.

  His mouth touched the side of her neck as he cupped her breasts. “It is awfully dark in here . . . Maybe if we were quiet too . . .”

  “Jolar,” she warned breathlessly as his tongue traced her skin. “There are dozens of people in the activity center.”

  He gave a low frustrated half-growl. “And not even a door, just a curved passageway into this game room. Couldn’t you warn me if someone were coming our way?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Ordinarily, I could but I might not if I were – uh . . .”

  “Busy making those sounds you make when you find your pleasure?” he asked huskily.

  “Oh.” Her cheeks went hot. “I didn’t realize I did anything like that.”

  “You do. The sweetest little cries . . .” Jolar gave a soft groan. “Gods, this is not helping. We need to start the game now or risk getting put off the ship.”

  He wasn’t the only one who was wondering if they might actually be able to get away with it. “How do I play?”

  “Give me a sec. I’m not sure I have any blood left in my head to think with,” he said, laughing a little. “Game—set up!”

 

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