Allie's War Season Three (13 page)

WE MANAGED TO pop out in a storm drain inside the park itself. In fact, when I finally got Revik out, it was through a sewage access tunnel not far from the Natural History Museum and the lake by the nearest footpath to the road.

I was kind of amazed, really, at how far uptown we'd walked...but so happy I'd managed to hit the park I didn't care. I'd been off on my calculations by at least two or three street blocks, but we still managed to come out close to the main thoroughfare of Central Park West, which had been my real goal.

After doing a light scan under a dense shield, I climbed out of the hole in the ground first. I walked around some, mostly up and down the path and to look at the cars parked along the nearby street, to make sure the coast was clear…relatively, that is. As I looked around, scoping the area for undercover cops and Sweeps and whatever else, I was practically bouncing on my feet I was so overtired and amped...but it was quiet. Really quiet. I imagined most of the party was still by the bank, or dispersed to airports and the train station or one of the roadblocks I had to assume they'd set up around every access point in and out of the city.

I didn’t see or feel a lot of air traffic, although a few news helicopters flew overhead, following the course of Sixth Avenue rather than cruising over the park itself.

Once I managed to get my nerves ratcheted down a few notches, and convinced myself it was safe, I went back for Revik and helped him up the ladder...which was a lot harder than it sounds. By then, I was pretty damned exhausted too, and he's not exactly a small man, even when he's on the lean side, like now.

Still, I got him out fairly quickly, and then it was just a matter of making our way to Central Park West to hail a cab. We could have walked back to the hotel, of course, but I didn’t want to push Revik any further than I already had, and I was pretty sure a cab would be a lot safer than walking on the street with our real faces. We'd already changed into more civilian-type outfits in the tunnel below. That essentially meant taking off the armored vests and stuffing them into our backpacks, then pulling out the more colorful, regular shirts we wore beneath so they covered the tops of the black, military-style pants, making them look more like any club-goer's outfit.

Then we donned the long, black jackets, which were cut in a civilian-style anyway, and made sure none of our guns or organics or anything else showed.

The boots, too, could pass for somewhat dungeon-y club wear, so we might look a little overly tough, but no more so than a good subset of youngish people who would be roaming the streets this time of morning.

What we couldn't hide, we left in the tunnel.

We also erased the plans and maps from Revik’s hand-held, and cleared the memory on his headset, in case we
did
get stopped for some reason. Although why we bothered, I have no idea. If we got caught, evidence around us robbing the bank would be the least of our worries.

Someone would probably find evidence that we'd popped out here eventually, but hell...it wasn't like they didn't know by now that it was us anyway. Revik's little muscle flex in that vault had pretty much removed any shred of mystery as to the identity of the robbers. They would be able to hack the organic machine eventually as well, and pull images of us, along with whatever other trace evidence we'd left behind.

But Revik hadn't wanted to kill the damned thing, and I didn't want to do it, either…and not only because Revik would have been really upset with me.

Frankly, it wouldn't have made much difference anyway. That was the thing with the telekinesis. When you're one of only two seers who can do it...and the only one trained at a high enough level to do it right...it kind of serves as a footprint that can't really be explained away. As far as anyone knew, Revik was the only seer in existence who could do what he'd done that night, so there wasn't a lot of point in hiding our identity...just in hiding ourselves.

I got him through the park. We even managed to look relatively normal doing it...apart from the fact that being in the park at all around six a.m. borders on eccentric, at least for New Yorkers who don't have death wishes or armed bodyguards.

I did see a few joggers, however, by the time we reached the road, and by then the sky was turning rosy above the wash of light pollution from the city itself. Of course, one of those joggers
did
have armed bodyguards and looked vaguely familiar as some kind of media personality from the feeds, but it was close enough to actual morning that I figured we could be labeled as drunk idiots rather than dangerous terrorists...assuming anyone noticed us at all.

I put Revik into the first cab that slowed to my waving hand.

Revik collapsed back against the worn vinyl seats, wincing enough that I saw the driver give us a second look when I climbed in on the other side, tossing both of our backpacks into the space between the seat and the metal divider. I'd been watching the driver anyway in the rearview mirror, making sure he didn't recognize us.

He didn't, but the look on Revik's pale face obviously caused the guy some concern.

Maybe he was afraid Revik would barf inside his cab.

"You okay, buddy?" the driver asked, peering at him closer in the mirror. Unfortunately, this guy seemed pretty wide awake, which meant he was likely coming onto his shift, not leaving it.

"You don't look so good..." he added, pursing his mouth.

He didn't look or feel suspicious yet, not in a relevant way, but I found myself blowing a faint reassurance over the man's light anyway, if only to make it difficult for him to remember the specifics of our appearance. Ideally, I wanted to make sure he forgot he’d ever seen either of us, but I wasn't sure if I had enough light left for something that thorough.

Anyway, I could try that as we got out of the cab; for now, I just needed to make sure our looks were hard for him to track, and to ensure he didn’t trace our appearance to the bulletins that had likely been spraying our real faces across the feeds for the last few hours.

I relaxed when I saw the man's face smooth. His expression grew nearly serene by the time I spoke, but I reinforced it anyway, sending light flowing out along with my words.

"...Pulled something at the gym," I said, breathing calm into him.

My voice came out somewhat sharp, in a way that let him know I blamed Revik for the injury...or the character I was playing blamed him, more to the point. I rolled my eyes at the man's reflected eyes in the mirror. They were that odd, light-blue color that I only seemed to see in Eastern European humans.

Or on seers.

But his light didn't feel like a seer's. I let my aleimi probe deeper on the off-chance that he might be better disguised than I'd first allowed, but I still found nothing. I couldn't do too much, at least not without setting up a flare that would bring the Sweeps down on us like a bunch of angry insects with poisonous stingers, but I felt confident I was right. ID'ing seers was something they actually spent a lot of time teaching me while I lived with the Lao Hu.

Throughout my scan, my lips had continued to move independent of my actual mind, even the parts of it I’d left with Revik.

"...Keep telling him to take it easy, he's not twenty anymore," my lips formed in a grumbling accusation. "...Hurt his back playing football in college, but still thinks he's some indestructible kid, that he can bench press along with all of those pumped up pretty boys who probably drink 'roid slurpees for lunch every day..."

The cab driver chuckled, shaking his head.

Revik did his best to play along. He pushed my hand away with a grumble, glaring at me as if he was tired of my nagging. At the same time, he sent me a pulse of warmth that nearly brought a pause to my words before I pushed past it and plowed on.

"...Will you at least let me call the doctor this time?" I complained, sliding an arm around his neck. "A
real
doctor, sweetie...not that witch doctor chiropractor you always insist on using, who only seems to screw your back up more..."

"I'm fine, babe," he said, giving me a warning look. “Leave it alone, okay?”

“Yeah, sure you're fine. That's why you're moving like an eighty-year old man...”

“I am fine. It’s not from the gym, anyway.”

“So you
danced
yourself into a hernia?”

He chuckled a little, but still gave me an irritated look.

I couldn't help but be impressed that I didn't hear the German accent at all, and that he didn't overdo the New York thing, either. I saw emotion in his eyes once more, real emotion, and sent a pulse of warmth back, enough that he closed them, longer than a blink.

The cab driver didn't seem to notice any of that last part, though.

He laughed at Revik instead, glancing back at him through the mirror.

"You might as well give in, mister," he grinned. "See the doctor, like she says. I know a stubborn wife when I see one...there are many in my country."

"You have no idea," Revik said, his eyes still holding mine.

With the cab driver still watching us in the mirror, Revik leaned closer and kissed me on the mouth. I found myself pushing him back after only a moment, feeling enough of him in the kiss that my breath caught. Enough to know we were treading on dangerous ground. Glancing at the mirror, I smiled at the cabbie, rolling my eyes at him again.

"Alcohol and back injuries don't mix," I said, but let my voice turn humorous that time.

The cabbie laughed again, making a noncommittal gesture with his hand. Once his eyes were on the road again, Revik clasped my fingers, leaning his good side into the worn seat so that he nearly faced me, if at an angle.

"I want to go on a date," he murmured, leaning his mouth by my ear.

I quirked an eyebrow at that, smiling.

"What kind of date, husband?" I whispered back.

He shivered at my choice of words, pulling me closer by the hand.

"Formal," he said, watching my eyes for reaction. "Someplace we have to dress up."

I kissed his cheek, leaning closer to respond directly into his ear. "Wouldn't that have to be a costume party?" I said, lower than a whisper, reminding him that we couldn't exactly parade around town with our real faces showing. Especially not after tonight. "...Or were you thinking of an out-of-town venue?" I asked, my voice teasing.

He shook his head. "No."

"No to which?"

"Both."

"Both?" I said.

He kissed me again, but didn't answer. I found myself reacting to his stare, even as I forced my eyes away, reminding myself that I had to be the responsible one right now, that he wasn’t exactly operating on all four cylinders.

"Are you flirting with me?" I asked him teasingly, still trying to lighten that expression in his eyes.

He nodded, kissing my cheek again, then started to gesture in seer until I stopped his hand. I caught enough to feel my cheeks warm, though.

"Yes," he said, smiling faintly.

“Well, cut it out,” I said, my voice stern.

I found myself pushing him away again with a laugh when he leaned towards me once more, and that time he let me. He didn't move away though, resting his head on my shoulder as his light merged back into mine. He let his weight sink into the seat. I could still feel the pain on him from the shrapnel wound, sharp as I continued to feed him light...but the other wove up into it now, too, intense enough that I was struggling to keep my reactions out of my light. I caressed his hair as he let his light expand gradually into mine, his fingers still gripping my hand.

"Stay with me tonight," he said, quieter.

I felt myself flinch. "Baby," I said, equally soft. "It's not a good night for that."

He was already shaking his head.

"I'll be good," he clarified, caressing my palm with his fingers. "Promise."

I didn't relax, especially with what he was doing to my hand. After another deep breath, I shook my head back at him.

"They won't let me," I said. “And no, you won’t be good. You’re not being good now...”

Revik pulled on me with his light, his eyes still asking me.

“Cut it out,” I said, laughing, but nervously that time.

Giving the cab driver a quick scan and a glance, I reassured myself that he'd lost interest in us as soon as we became affectionate. He was probably used to that, too, especially if he normally worked the late-night shift. Looking back at Revik, I dropped my voice even lower, still stroking his hair where he leaned against me.