Allie's War Season Three (144 page)

Revik smiled, right before he knocked into me with his shoulder. "He's definitely got a lot of respect for Jon these days, too. He's said a few times recently that Jon has something really unique in his energy. He has a whole theory about why that is, of course."

"Which is what?"

Revik shrugged again, seer-fashion. "I already told you. He thinks Jon is some kind of reincarnated human master. One of the those who managed to attain some measure of sight on their own...purely through his own effort, I mean. He even meditates differently than most humans, I guess."

"Jon meditates?" I said, still trying to process everything he'd said. "Since when?"

"Since forever." Revik smiled, tugging my hair. "Didn't you know?"

I guess I did know he’d done that back in San Francisco, but it hadn’t really occurred to me that he might still do it here. Besides, before it was all wrapped up in his whole kung fu, San Francisco thing, so I didn’t pay a lot of attention.

"So by 'human master,'” I said, grinning. “What you really mean is, like...a buddha?" I said, smiling wider. "Like a guy who sat in caves, eating bugs and pondering the nature of existence?"

Revik laughed, but his eyes remained serious. "Maybe not quite that extreme. But yeah, along those lines."

"Can we start calling him Buddha Jon?" I said. "Please?"

Revik laughed...loudly enough that a few people looked over.

Even so, he was already shaking his head.

"No, wife. Jesus." He grinned at me. "In fact, Balidor wants us to wait on talking to Jon about any of this. I think he's hoping Jon might start to remember more on his own, now that his sight is starting to awaken. One of the qualities of the human masters is that they often remember their past lives. Anyway, telling him wouldn't really help him at all...and it could become a barrier to him remembering himself, if we load a bunch of expectations on top of what's already happening to him. Balidor thinks...and I agree...that it would be better if we let things unfold naturally. Wreg
is
helping him with that end."

"By molesting him every chance he gets?" I said, grimacing. "Only a seer would believe that..."

Revik shrugged, one-handed, but only smiled.

"Does Wreg know any of this?" I asked then.

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

At my 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 added, maybe to head me off, "...Wreg lit up like a Christmas tree when this all started. I'm actually shocked more seers didn't notice. Dorje sure as hell did." Revik gave me a grim look. “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...or confronted Jon directly, or simply tried to seduce him when Dorje wasn't around. Or hell, put Dorje in the hospital..."

I nodded, biting down on another strawberry and leaning back in the leather booth.

Even so, my puzzlement worsened as I replayed Revik's words. I still couldn’t believe I hadn't noticed any of this, when clearly everyone else had.

Revik kissed my cheek. "I'm glad my attempt to reassure you worked."

"Is that what this was?" I said, giving him a sideways smile.

"Yes." He returned my smile, that predatory glint back in his eyes. "I don't want you preoccupied with Jon and Wreg when I drag you upstairs. I love Jon and all...but that's not the image I want in my wife's mind once I get her to open her light."

"You mean of Jon? Or of him and Wreg naked?"

"Either," he said, laughing. "Both. Aren't you going to flirt with me at all? Do I have to use my light to get you interested? Or are you still mad at me?”

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

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 of fear in the background, perceptible if now slightly more vague. I felt that part of him that was vibrating at a different level, too, even though he kept trying to restrain it from my view. His irises glowed as I continued to examine his aleimi, until his eyes closed again, 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 again. "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 even less than me, since I'd been picking at fruit and sausage after that first plate of pancakes, and I hadn't seen him doing the same.

"They still have room service," he told me. "I checked that, too."

I knocked into him with my shoulder. "You're not being very subtle, husband."

"Is that a requirement?" he said. "To be subtle?" He took hold of the hand I had lying on the table and placed it back in his lap. His light immediately flushed liquid heat over mine, stopping my breath even before I made sense of what he nudged me to massage. When I didn't pull away, emotions joined that heat he emitted, along with a desire that I felt down to the ends of my fingers. "I desperately want to fuck you," he murmured, sliding a hand between my legs. "How's that for subtle? If you don’t ask me soon, I’m going to turn into a tyrant again...and then you really will be angry at me..."

I laughed, but felt my skin warm anyway. “You’re threatening me with threatening me? When did you turn into such a bully?”

“When I lost my ability to pretend I can wait much longer,” he murmured.

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

He bent closer to kiss me on the mouth, leaning into me harder when I didn’t stop him.

I felt his light coiling around mine again, pulling on me, trying to open me as he wound it deeper into 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 of the others in the room. Even as I thought it, he kissed me again, groaning softly that time, his hand sliding further up my thigh, yanking me closer to him. I felt my light responding to his pulls already, sliding out of my grasp even as his fingers wrapped into mine, as he pressed my back into the leather of the booth.

He had me half-pinned there when the pain emanating from his light worsened, nearly making me lose touch with the room. When I opened my eyes next, his were glowing, and I realized he’d opened the front of my vest, even as the fingers of his other hand curled into my hair. His light tugged on me harder, and I found myself falling into him as his body softened over mine, growing heavier as he pressed against me.

Wreg's voice stopped both of us, right as Revik was about to kiss me again.

"Hey!" Wreg slammed a fist on the table, making his plate, silverware and coffee cup rattle, and nearly toppling his half-empty glass of juice where it balanced precariously next to his plate. "No hand-jobs at the table! We discussed this, Illustrious Sword!"

I flinched, flushing when I realized how far gone I’d gotten, even in those few seconds.

Glancing up, I saw Neela roll her eyes, right before she covered her face with one hand.

I laughed, unable to help myself.

"We aren't doing anything!" Revik yelled back good-naturedly. "Are you telling me I can't flirt with my wife? You overbearing, light-sniffing
voyeur!"

"Flirt
with her? Don't give me that steaming pile of
dugra-te
, you raging hormonal mutant! I saw you just now! I fucking
saw
it! You have, 'oh my gods, my wife is rubbing my dick' face. Hands on the table, both of you...” Despite the general laugh this provoked, Wreg’s eyes darkened slightly, right before he trained them directly on me. “...Or are we really going to have an orgy on our hands, Esteemed Bridge?"

I saw the bite of warning there, although it didn’t seem aimed at me.

Well, not precisely.

It occurred to me in the same set of seconds that he was nudging me towards Revik’s mind. Wreg wanted me to see something he could feel in Revik’s light, a less-obvious intention that I’d either missed or conveniently ignored when he started kissing me again. But I didn’t really think Revik would go so far as to try and push me into his bonding trip
again
. Not now. Not after I’d just offered a compromise, one even Revik seemed to be cool with––

Wreg cut into my thoughts, giving Revik a hard look.

Believe it, princess.

I looked at Revik again, frowning. When I glanced at Balidor, he raised an eyebrow at me, too, and I saw in his eyes that he agreed with Wreg’s assessment. I found myself wondering just how much of our earlier argument the two of them heard.

Quite enough of it, Esteemed Bridge,
Balidor assured me with a wry smile. Even so, his eyes were sharp when he glanced at Revik.
I think your husband has some self-control issues at the moment. Perhaps we need to have a bit of a talk with him? Walk him around the atrium a few times? Given your relative newness to the somewhat addictive elements of group dynamics, it seems he might be applying more pressure than you realize...

Wreg, characteristically, was more blunt.

He’ll push you into it, if he can,
the ex-rebel warned me.
Not that I think he’s wholly rational right now, mind you. He may not have admitted to himself yet, what he’s doing...

I glanced at Balidor.

Again, he only seemed to exude agreement with Wreg.

It’s the reason he won’t go upstairs,
Balidor added, softer.

“Hands on the table, princess,” Wreg advised aloud. I heard the seriousness under his tone, even though his voice turned joking once more. “...If you please.”

I raised both hands in mock surrender, leaning back in the booth.

Still, I couldn’t help feeling a kind of relief that they’d been paying attention.

Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something was up with Revik right now. In fact, they seemed to understand whatever it was a lot better than I did, which for once didn’t annoy me.

Well, it didn’t annoy me very much.

I could also tell without looking that Revik had picked up some of the undercurrents of the discussion by now, too, meaning he knew I’d been talking to Balidor and Wreg. When Balidor next spoke, I realized I wasn’t the only one who noticed that, either.

“Well? Do we need to take you for a stroll, Illustrious Sword?” Balidor asked, exchanging another look with Wreg. “You seem a bit...agitated.”

“Agitated my ass,” Wreg snorted. “He’s lucky he has a tolerant wife.”

“True.” Balidor smiled shrewdly at me, his eyes holding a bit of a question. “Although perhaps he’s taking advantage of that fact a bit too much...?”

“I think we should hose off the insubordinate bastard,” Wreg said. “Remind him who’s in charge of this outfit. It’s not
her
fault he’s afraid of our Shadow...”

I winced at the obvious reference to Menlim, glancing up at Revik before I could stop myself. Revik was looking between the two of them, though. His expression didn’t move, but I saw more than a flicker of understanding in his colorless eyes.

“Maybe he needs more time with Yumi,” Balidor observed, still watching Revik. “A little one on one time...without the Esteemed Bridge.”

“Yumi?” Wreg said. “He needs time in the ring. Getting his ass kicked...by me.”

Jorag snorted a laugh, but I saw the puzzlement in his eyes as he looked between the three of us. He could clearly feel the undercurrent, too; he just couldn’t follow what it actually meant. Truthfully, I’m not sure I followed all of it, either. I knew Yumi worked with some of the seers on trauma issues, helping repair their aleimi and so on, but that was about all I picked up.