War_Apocalypse

by JC Andrijeski

  Glancing down, he saw my expression and frowned back.

  “He wants it,” he said. “Jon. He wants the group thing. I’ve felt it on him before now. He might not know he wants it, but I can feel it.”

  When I still shook my head, clicking at him in annoyance, Revik forced his expression still, right before he softened his voice.

  “Allie, you’ve got to start thinking like a seer when it comes to these things. I’m not going to jeopardize the group––or you––just because you have some human hang-up about seeing your brother naked. I won’t cater to his shit, and I can’t cater to yours.”

  I glared at him, gripping my fork. “Are you seriously pressuring me about this?” Open anger edged into my voice. “Pulling the ‘you’re acting like an uptight human’ card?”

  Revik shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Really? It sure as hell sounded like it.”

  “I just wish you’d trust me for once,” he snapped, loud enough that a few heads turned. Frustration colored his voice, but he kept his eyes on mine. “Just trust me and do what I fucking ask, Alyson… for once. How fucking hard is that?”

  I froze, staring at him, my fork halfway to my mouth.

  His fear was on the surface now, vibrating my aleimi as he looked at me. He was breathing harder, and I felt those sparks of current going through his light, making it difficult to comprehend his actual facial expression.

  I fought down the part of me that wanted to get even angrier at his words, to take them at face value, to yell back. I fought to hold on to what I could feel behind them, before this turned into something that would take us days to get past, instead of minutes or hours.

  After a longer moment of doing that, I almost succeeded.

  Letting out an exhale, I set down my fork and looked away, leaning back in the leather booth and folding my arms. When I felt his light pulling on mine, I pushed back, fighting to extricate myself from him well enough to think. Whatever this was about, it wasn’t just Revik having an exhibitionist moment. I highly doubted this was even about sex. Combing my fingers through my hair, I stared down at the table, feeling his eyes on me.

  His light exuded caution now.

  “Allie,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head, lips pursed.

  “Allie,” he began again. “I mean it, I’m really sorry––”

  “I don’t want to hear sorry.” I shook my head, still staring at the table. “If you’re serious about this, and it’s really not a sexual thing, you need to approach it as a security suggestion to the leadership team. You need to be open about it, with the group. And you need to stop pulling bullshit psychological tricks to try and get me to agree to it.”

  I raised my eyes, giving him a level look.

  “You need to put it to a vote, Revik. If the group agrees it’s in our best interests, not just a sexual free-for-all, then I’ll agree to it, too. With the caveat that anyone who wants to opt out, can. And the caveat that it not be a sexual free-for-all. Not for me, anyway.” Giving him a more pointed look, I added, “…Not for us.”

  Seeing his eyes react, I hesitated before adding,

  “And before any of that, you need to talk to Jon. Don’t lay it on him in the moment, without any chance to think it through. Don’t lay it on him in a strategy session, either. If you do that, you’re just being an dick.” Muttering into my coffee, I clicked under my breath. “…You also might have to get me really drunk. Or erect a wall between us. Something.”

  Revik’s eyes changed as I spoke.

  I saw surprise flicker there, along with a relief so palpable, it shocked me.

  Reaching out, he caressed my fingers cautiously. When I didn’t move away, he shifted closer to me on the seat. I watched him think over my words, even as he lowered his hand, massaging my leg through my pants. His fingers grew more deliberate as he continued to think, until I started to find it really distracting, enough that it was getting difficult to focus.

  “I reserve my right to opt out, too,” I added, subduing my voice. “To change my mind, I mean. Jon has that right, too. And Wreg. And whoever else.”

  Revik looked at me, but only nodded, his expression noncommittal.

  I bit my lip as he gazed out over the table, feeling his light coiling into mine, even with the serious look on his face.

  He seemed to be assessing the group, then me, then the group again.

  “You won’t be angry with me?” he said finally. Without looking at me directly, he added, “Not that I’m not willing to have you be a little angry with me. I just want to know.”

  I shook my head, now more confused than angry. “Revik… what is going on? Are you going to tell me?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Does that mean not later in the room, either?”

  “No.” Pausing, he amended his words. “I mean, yes… not then, either.” He hesitated, glancing at me. “You know part of it already, Allie.”

  “Menlim?”

  He nodded, once. “Menlim.”

  Thinking about his words, I followed his eyes, watching as Wreg spoke to Jorag, resting a tattooed hand on his shoulder. Watching the group interact, I forced a sigh. At that point, if he really wasn’t going to talk to me, I almost wanted to change the subject––maybe in the hopes of lightening the tension I felt on his face and light.

  “Why are you looking at Wreg so much?” I said. “Is it because of what happened in Argentina? Are you worried about him, because of Shadow?”

  Revik turned, staring at me.

  His mouth firmed as he thought about my words.

  “A little, maybe,” he said, after another pause. “Not as much as I used to, but a little. I more wanted to make sure that construct in Shadow’s castle didn’t put anything in his light. Balidor and I have already had to pull a few things off Jorag and Raddi and a few others.”

  “Did it? Put anything in his light?”

  “I don’t think so.” He frowned, his eyes slightly out of focus. “Not unless it’s something more hidden or subtle than I can see. Wreg’s light has changed a lot more than the others, which makes it easier to scan him and harder.”

  I frowned. “Wreg’s light is different? How? In what way?”

  I turned as I asked, falling into the Barrier somewhat as I did. When Revik laid a warning hand on my arm, I felt the caution and only did a light pass, checking Wreg out in terms of his higher structures and leaving the aleimi closer to his body alone.

  After a few minutes where I sipped my coffee drink and scanned, I clicked out.

  “His light’s definitely clearer,” I said doubtfully. “But that’s from him leaving the Dreng, right?” Pausing, I admitted, “I guess I haven’t really looked at him in a while. Not closely, anyway. Not since the Registry op.”

  Revik gave me a wan smile, caressing my fingers where they lay on his leg.

  “I know.” Leaning closer, he kissed my neck. “I know why, too, wife.” Pain slid through his light, until he deliberately pushed it back. Glancing at Wreg, he added in a more matter-of-fact voice, “I’ve had to keep an eye on all of their light. The ex-Rebels, I mean. Balidor and his team conduct regular scans, too.”

  I looked at him, a little surprised, but of course, it made sense. He would have to keep an eye on them, given how much time some of them had spent with the Dreng.

  As head of infiltration, Balidor would have to, as well.

  Sighing, Revik settled his weight deeper into the padded booth.

  “I worry about Wreg and the other old-timers the most,” he admitted. “Most of them were recruited directly by Menlim, so the problems in their light are different. Unfortunately, they’re also more deep-seated and complex.”

  He took a drink of juice, shrugging.

  “…Since I wasn’t the one to put those initial, root structures in their aleimi, I also can’t know for certain I got everything out. I had Vash and Balidor’s help for most of it, but they couldn’t be 100% certain
either, unfortunately.”

  He made a graceful gesture with his hand. I followed it with my eyes.

  “I’ve shared my memories of seeing Menlim do it,” he added. “But I can’t be positive I caught everything then, either. Even if I did, the resonance they built with the Dreng was cultivated over many years. More than a hundred, for some of them. It will take time for that to vanish totally––assuming it does vanish totally. Unfortunately, we can’t afford to send them all to ice caves to meditate for a few decades, as much as Vash might have wanted.”

  He looked at me, smiling humorlessly.

  “It makes them vulnerable,” he said flatly. “Exponentially more vulnerable if you’re right about Menlim being alive.”

  Frowning, I only nodded, pulling a few more fresh strawberries onto my plate. As hungry as I’d been when we got here, my stomach had shrunk down to nothing from how little food we’d eaten over the past few weeks.

  “So you think Menlim could turn them again?” I said.

  Revik sighed, clicking. “I honestly don’t know. Wreg used to worry us the most, given how high up he was in the command structure. Now, he worries me the least. Balidor, too.”

  “Really?” I turned to stare at Wreg again.

  “Yeah,” Revik said, smiling. He motioned with his head. “Check out Wreg’s light compared to Raddi’s… down there.”

  I shifted my gaze to the seer at the other end of the table.

  Raddi was closer to Revik’s age. He fought in the first rebellion, too, I knew––as well as the second, under Salinse. Scanning him, I flinched when I saw the dull, heavy, wisps of smoke-like light that hovered over a number of structures in the Eastern-European seer’s aleimi.

  Looking back at Wreg, I emitted a faint noise of surprise.

  “Huh,” I said.

  “Yeah.” Revik smiled as he leaned his elbows back on the table. “Huh.”

  That smoke-like substance was completely absent from Wreg’s light. His aleimi shone a dark gold color, warm and woven through with more-subtle frequencies, sharper hues and vibrations that sparked and danced.

  “How did that happen?” I said, my voice still surprised.

  Revik gave me a wry smile. “Your brother. We think.”

  “Jon did that?”

  “We think so, yeah.” Revik shook his head, clicking softly. “I thought I was imagining things at first, so I finally asked Balidor. He was the one who clued me in on the whole thing with Jon.” Smiling wider, he chuckled. “It blew ‘Dori’s mind… probably as much as Wreg’s. Still, Jon’s likely the main reason Wreg didn’t knife Balidor in his sleep, so ‘Dori’s probably more than a little grateful, too.”

  “And the others?” I said, looking at Raddi once more, and Jokko, who had also been in both rebellions. “What does Balidor think about them?”

  Revik gave a seer’s shrug. “He’s keeping an eye on them, just like me. But he trusts Wreg. More and more all the time.” Glancing at me, he added, “He’s definitely got a lot of respect for Jon these days, too.”

  Grinning wider, Revik knocked into my shoulder with his.

  “Balidor even wondered if he was some kind of human master in another life. Jon, that is. He mentioned it to Vash and Tarsi… apparently the whole Council had a discussion about it. According to Balidor, Vash didn’t disagree with the theory, which, for him was often the same as agreeing––or half-agreeing, at least.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Buddha Jon? He’ll love that.”

  Revik smacked my arm, grinning. “Don’t get me in trouble, wife. I’m sharing Council secrets with you here.”

  Thinking, I frowned. “Does Wreg know any of this?”

  Revik waved a hand vaguely. “I haven’t said anything. I kind of doubt Balidor has, either. Wreg might have his own theories. I know he was the first to mention to the rest of us––well before we found the lists––that Jon’s light felt more seer than human. He was pretty adamant about it, actually, for understandable reasons. Not that he’s racist, exactly––”

  I let out a disbelieving laugh.

  Revik gave me an apologetic look, flipping a hand sideways.

  “I mean, sure. He was politicized during the Rebellion years, so he’s got racist tendencies, but probably fewer than I do––”

  At another snort from me, he smacked my arm, going on before I could.

  “––My point is, Wreg lit up like a Christmas tree when this all started. I’m shocked more seers didn’t notice, honestly. A few of the Rebels did. Dorje sure as hell did.” Revik smile turned grim. “Dorje’s lucky, really, that Wreg’s pretty old-school on the poaching issue. A lot of younger seers would have told Dorje to go to hell. They would have confronted Jon directly, or simply tried to seduce him when Dorje wasn’t around. Or hell, put Dorje in the hospital.”

  I frowned. “You mean the Wreg and Jon thing was going on for a while?”

  “Months, wife. Wreg told me his light more or less fixated on Jon’s right after Vash took those structures from Salinse and the Dreng off him.”

  I stared at him. “Seriously? So while I was in Beijing?”

  Revik nodded, taking a strawberry off my plate and chewing it. “It was a big mess. Dorje wanted him officially sanctioned by the Council, but it’s not like Wreg did it on purpose. So they had mediation and Wreg agreed to both not discuss it with Jon and, of course, to not try and seduce Jon… not as long as Dorje and Jon were together.”

  I was gaping at him now. “When the hell did all this happen? In China?”

  Revik made a more or less gesture with one hand. “Some of it. Some here, in New York.” At my incredulous stare, he gave me an apologetic look, stroking my arm. “Balidor and I weren’t sure if we should tell you. We were a little worried you’d freak out.”

  Looking away, I nodded, frowning and nibbling on another strawberry as I thought. My puzzlement worsened as I replayed Revik’s words.

  How had I not noticed any of this? Jon was my brother. And Wreg was around me all the time. How in the gods had I not seen it?

  Revik kissed my cheek. “You were a little busy,” he reminded me softly. “And we didn’t tell Jon, either. Truthfully, Wreg wanted it kept quiet.”

  I only nodded.

  “Are you mad I didn’t tell you?”

  At that, I let out a humorless laugh, rolling my eyes. “I’m beginning to realize, all wedding vows aside, you not telling me things is still the norm around here.”

  I felt a pulse of reaction in his light.

  Glancing at him, I saw the worry on his face, and sighed.

  “It is pretty shitty, you know,” I said, my voice still faintly annoyed. “You promised. You promised you would tell me things… in front of the gods and Ancestors and whoever else. No withholding of important information. It was your vow, husband.”

  His eyes changed while I looked at them. I saw shame there, and frustration. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right,” he said, blunt. “I know you’re right, but I’m struggling with this. Can you please just give me a little more time?”

  Sighing, I rolled my head back on the bench dramatically.

  When I glanced at him, he smiled, but his eyes still looked worried.

  “Fine,” I said. “But you owe me. Big.”

  He returned my smile, that predatory glint growing more visible in his eyes. “Do I? Does that mean you’re going to extract some kind of price from me later?”

  Shaking my head, I clicked at him in mock reproach. “It’s indecent to be so happy about the thought of me punishing you. Be careful, or I’ll come up with something you really don’t like. Something involving endless foot rubs for me and zero orgasms for you.”

  He laughed, gripping my leg tighter before he kissed my neck, a flush of heat leaving his light. “Aren’t you going to flirt with me at all?” he murmured in my ear. “Do I have to go barbarian on you again? Or are you still mad at me?”

  I shrugged in mock innocence, but found myself watching his eyes anyway.

&nbs
p; Whatever he was pretending about things being back to normal with him and his light, I wasn’t buying it. I still felt that tremor in the background, if now slightly muted as he held it back. His irises glowed as I continued to examine his aleimi, until he leaned his face against mine, a pulse of pain leaving his light that made me flinch.

  I grew conscious of the open construct around us, and the fact that we were extremely visible in it, given who we were.

  At least our room had a private construct.

  Providing they hadn’t filled it with chickens and goats.

  Revik laughed. “They didn’t. I checked.”

  I glanced at his plate. He hadn’t eaten his usual three helpings. In fact, I was pretty sure he’d eaten less than me, since I’d been picking at fruit and sausage after that first plate of pancakes, and I hadn’t seen him do the same. Most of what he’d eaten had been off my plate.

  “They have room service still,” he said. “I checked that, too.”

  I knocked into him with my shoulder. “You’re not being very subtle, husband.”

  “Is that a requirement? To be subtle?” He took the hand I had resting on the table and placed it in his lap. His light flushed liquid heat over mine, stopping my breath as soon as I wrapped my fingers around him. He nudged me to massage him, and when I didn’t resist, emotions joined the heat he emitted, along with a desire I felt down to the ends of my fingers.

  “Gaos,” he murmured, sliding a hand between my legs. “If you don’t ask pretty soon, I’m going to lose my shit. Then you really will be angry at me.”

  “I offered to go up to the room,” I reminded him. “Twice.”

  Fisting his fingers in my hair, he kissed me, leaning his weight.

  He caught me off guard, but I didn’t pull away that time, either. When I kissed him back, his light coiled into and around mine invasively, roughly opening mine. The intensity of it overwhelmed me briefly, even as it struck me again that we were probably visible in the construct to at least a few others in the room.

  Gently, he pushed those thoughts from my mind.