Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine (34 page)

“To what purpose?” he said. “Which brings me to the real reason I am not concerned. If you had me kill my wife, she would be dead, yes…but I would also no longer work for you. Which means the outcome would be the same as if I had not come here at all…if you simply continued to hunt us down and kill us senselessly. My wife would be dead. My daughter would be dead. I would be dead. You would gain nothing that you do not already have. By agreeing to my terms, you would lose nothing…but you would gain the benefit of my services. Even if I did not die via the bond, I would no longer be a willing servant to you, either.”

Menlim nodded, his eyes expressionless. “So you simply wish me to end this conflict with your wife?” he said. “To call a cease-fire, so to speak?”

Revik nodded, emphatic.

“Yes,” he said. “End it. Let them colonize a remote part of this world…sign a fucking treaty, I don’t care. But end it. She is not a threat to you. She and her people have no interest in fighting over the spoils, or starting a war with organized crime lords in Asia or Mexico or anywhere else. They do not have the manpower or weaponry to establish linked colonies anyway…even if they desired such a thing.”

Revik made another expansive gesture with his hands.

“They simply wish to grow and perpetuate their own kind, like any species,” he said, his voice subdued. “Let them do it in peace. They will not touch your numbers, not for centuries, if ever. Certainly not in any number of generations that you and I might imagine we could survive.”

Before Revik had even finished speaking, Menlim was already clicking softly however, shaking his skull-like head.

“This is not the Bridge’s charter on this world, brother––” he began, his voice quiet.

“Nor is committing suicide unnecessarily,” Revik retorted. “You won, Menlim. Be a little fucking gracious about it. Leave my family alone.”

Menlim only looked at him, unblinking. His yellow eyes held a sharper glint.

“In exchange for you?” he said. “…Or as much of yourself as you will give me?”

Revik nodded again. “Yes.”

“And your wife is all right with this?” he said, softer still.

Revik let out a humorless laugh.

“Is my wife ‘all right’ with this?” he said incredulously. “No. Of course she isn’t ‘all right’ with it. But I made it crystal fucking clear to her what would happen if she did not go along with me on this. She loves our daughter too, brother…arguably more than she loves me. She knows how serious I am about protecting more than simply their physical lives, or a single incarnation of their lights. She knows it was not an empty threat. I released her from all vows. She will not dispute this.”

At the mention of vows, Ute looked over sharply.

Glancing at her, Revik saw her frown, disbelief in her eyes.

Ignoring her, Revik turned back towards Menlim.

“She will not fight it,” he repeated. “I know her, and she will not…not anymore. She and I spoke in confidence before I did this, in one of the Barrier containment tanks. Months ago. None of the others knew what I intended, but Alyson did. The note was for them, not her.”

His voice thickened when he looked up, even as anger touched his words.

“She already knew, Menlim,” he said again. “…and given my threats and arguments, in the end, she agreed to let me go. In the end, she even agreed that it might be the only way that we could reliably keep our daughter safe. For the same reason, she and I agreed to dissolve our union…out of necessity.”

He made a “more or less” gesture with one hand.

“The bond cannot be dissolved of course,” he added, staring at the carpet. “But as that is the main leverage I have over her, the continued presence of that bond works more to your advantage than not, I would think.”

Revik glanced up, meeting Menlim’s gaze.

He still couldn’t read anything there, but he hadn’t expected he would.

Gesturing again with a hand, he added, “Before I left, I asked brother Balidor to train me in advanced shielding techniques. Essentially, the same techniques he taught my wife when she infiltrated me at the rebel compound. I asked my biological aunt, Tarsi, for help in the same. Between the two of them, I should now be able to keep most of my private life, as well as the work I do for you, away from my ex-wife’s light…”

Swallowing a little at what he’d just called her, he shrugged again with his hand.

“…Particularly if you aid me to that end by granting me access to elements of your shielding from your own construct,” he finished gruffly.

That time, the silence stretched longer.

Revik stared at the carpet through most of it, hands once more clasped between his knees. He fought not to think about how they might be reacting to his proposal or whatever they might be currently reading off his light.

He had nothing to hide, not anymore.

Rather than try to second-guess where Menlim might take things next, he instead focused on minute details relating to where his gaze rested for those few minutes. The pale yellow-orange of the rug was a lighter shade of the tiger skin’s tawny fur he realized. It was also not dissimilar to the color of Terian’s eyes back when he’d been the dominant personality split from Feigran’s aleimi. Revik found himself remembering the tiger skin rug on the wall of that faux-colonial bar on the cruise ship he and Allie rode most of the way to Alaska.

But he couldn’t think about that right then, either.

Wincing away from the memory, he cleared his throat.

He adjusted his seat on the leather chair right as Menlim spoke, breaking the silence.

“All right, brother,” Menlim said. “I confess, you have piqued my interest.”

He let that hang briefly, then slowly rose to his feet.

The other seers on the tiger-skin couch rose on either side of him, pulling their clothes and weapons straight as they regained their feet.

Revik remained seated.

Menlim stared down at him, a harder look touching his mouth. “I will give you tonight to rest. Tomorrow we will begin the assessments I require before we begin negotiations for real. Is that objectionable to you, brother?”

Revik made a negative gesture with one hand. “No.”

“Good,” Menlim said.

Exhaling a bit, he frowned again, still studying Revik’s face and body. Then he shook his head, as if shaking off a stray thought. He motioned for the others to head for the door. He stood there as they began to comply, again studying Revik’s face.

“Use the wall monitor if you require anything, brother,” he said. “The kitchen is available twenty-four hours…” Pausing, he added with more bite, “We also have a fine array of unwillings on staff, brother…seer and human. I imagine that, now that you are single once more, you will be availing yourself of their services, too…assuming we can work out the details of your employment to our mutual satisfactions?”

Revik felt his jaw harden.

He didn’t answer.

He did catch Ute staring at him after Menlim said it, though.

Studiously avoiding looking at any of them now, Revik simply sat in the leather chair, his hands clasped in front of him. He didn’t change posture as they filed out of the apartment in silence. Nor did he move his eyes from the carpet.

He still hadn’t moved minutes later, after the door had closed firmly behind them.

11

VOICE

I am awake now… the voice whispered.

Now that I am awake, I cannot sleep…

I cannot.

You must come to me.

Come to me sister, for I cannot do the rest alone…

Cold wind hit me in a sharp blast as I walked alone down the lowering metal ramp. Focusing out over the empty tarmac spread in front of me, I looked for signs of life. The entire airstrip appeared to be deserted, even compared to what I’d seen on the satellite images and surveillance on the way here. I didn’t even see any birds.

The ramp hadn’t fully extended by the time I reached the end.

I didn’t wait, but released the safety bar and jumped the rest of the way down, my eyes still on the horizon. I landed on my boots, feeling it up to my knees.

I’d been sitting way too long.

It was more than that though, and I knew it.

Looking around at the mountains surrounding the small, private air strip, I felt a weird blip somewhere in my lower belly. Somehow this felt more like coming home than that op Revik and I did together in San Francisco…or even my last time in New York.

Maybe I’d just been away longer this time.

Or maybe enough of the chaos had cleared from the surface of the land that I could feel the land itself again. Either way, it hurt a little bit, looking at those familiar, snow-covered mountains. Aunt Carol lived out here for a few years while I was growing up, so I actually knew this part of the country a little.

Like in Asia, no planes broke the silence. Well, apart from the whirring and powering down of the ancient propeller engines of the cargo plane I’d just exited.

I didn’t hear any cars, or so much as a car radio.

Granted, we were pretty far out of the city.

We’d landed in a private airstrip just north of the town of Fort Collins, coming in via an even smaller town a few hundred miles west of Quebec City. We’d needed to stick to the outskirts of any even semi-organized human settlements in both cases, but especially here, being so close to the NORAD-monitored airspace.

I just hoped we’d gotten an accurate map of the sensors they had monitoring ground and air traffic. Even eighty miles north of Denver felt dangerously close.

Of course, if they still had access to satellite feeds, they’d know we were here already.

Another gust of wind whipped my hair and face, cutting through my clothes. That shock of cold air surprised me too, even as it hit me that I hadn’t been anywhere but tropical climates for the past ten months. And yeah, it was February in the Rocky Mountains, so of course it would be cold…but somehow that possibility never occurred to me. I think our coldest day in Thailand was around eighty-nine degrees Fahrenheit.

Four weeks. Nearly four weeks had passed since the morning I woke up in Bangkok with a note tied to my arm.

I forced that out of my light, as well.

It was early here yet, maybe seven in the morning, so I knew the temperature would rise some as the day wore on. But it wouldn’t get warm. We’d need jackets during the day and likely thermals at night, especially since our sensors showed they didn’t have power many places out here.

Glancing back over my shoulder when the metal ramp thunked onto the tarmac, I saw Jorag’s blue eyes right as his face broke into a smile. We’d met up with him and Chandre just outside of Mumbai, doubling the numbers of each of our smaller groups.

Before I could say anything, he tossed something at me.

I caught it, more in surprise than anything, and nearly lost my balance.

“Bridge’s too good to carry her own clothes,” Jorag snorted, glancing over his shoulder at Neela, who walked behind him. “She’ll be wanting us to wash her underwear next…”

Neela rolled her eyes in exaggerated seer fashion, clicking at him.

“Like you wouldn’t totally get off on that,” she said. She winked at me. “
Dugra t’
pervert…” Passing by him with her own satchel, she smacked him sharply on the shoulder with the flat of her hand. “Bridge’s not lazy. Just the boss. We only brought you as a pack animal anyway, Joro…you’re not good for much else.”