Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine (14 page)

In flickers, sure. Idle stares and pulses of pain when she’d been particularly hungry, or the Bridge had been more open with her light than usual…or she wore clothes that emphasized the changes in her body since she and Chandre had first met. Chandre had seen imprints and Barrier records from the others that affected her, too.

In particular, some of the memories the others carried of their time in New York featured the Bridge in a number of graphic sexual fantasies of one kind of another.

Chandre hadn’t been there in person for most of that. Even so, the combination of the dramatic changes in the Bridge’s body, her dressing habits and the added structures in Allie’s light from working as a consort of the Lao Hu affected her.

She was no more immune to the differences there than the rest of them.

…Like when Alyson had worn those consort clothes after she got back from Beijing. Several of the seers, Jorag especially, still seemed to use those imprints semi-frequently as masturbation fodder. Chan also saw records and memories of what the Bridge had looked like when they rescued her from the Forbidden City.

Chandre hadn’t been the only one to react to those things.

Just about every seer on their team had been hungry for her that day. They’d also been conscious of keeping those impulses far, far away from the Sword and his light.

But Chandre hadn’t taken those whispers of interest and hunger seriously.

Now, pain nearly blanked out her mind.

The Bridge was hungry, too…which made it worse.

A lot worse.

She was so hungry Chandre found that hunger making her aggressive, nearly violent.

Chandre pressed her harder against the wall. Deepening the kiss, she found herself touching her again, more deliberately that time, a bare asking of permission in her hands and light. When the other didn’t fight her, Chandre gripped her long dark hair in her hand, clenching her fingers into a fist, forcing her still as she pressed the length of her body against hers. She let out a low gasp, what was nearly a groan when she felt the other’s pain worsen.

Her mind flickered with images again.

She’d heard rumors, murmurs of the Bridge’s relationship with the Sword…of how they both liked to be hurt during sex, maybe more than most seers. Chandre remembered walking into the tank that one day, when the Sword left his wife chained to the wall, naked but for a thin gold sheet. The sheet hadn’t helped.

It was worse than her being fully naked, really.

The memory brought another hard flush of pain. That time, Chandre let out a low groan, slamming the Bridge almost brutally against the wall. Chandre kissed her harder. Her hand slid around from her ass, easing between her legs…

Allie jumped violently.

Something in that broke the submission that had come over the Bridge’s light.

“No.” Allie gasped the word, writhing out from under Chandre’s hands. “No…stop. Stop it, Chan. Stop…stop…”

The word was enough to penetrate the fog of Chandre’s own light.

It wasn’t enough to get her to let go, though.

It didn’t even get her to separate their bodies.

Allie did that, too.

Chandre stood there, gasping, her forehead pressed against the other seer’s until Allie pushed her gently back. She fought not to speak, not to ask her for it…not to beg her for it by then. Allie might have felt that, too, but Chandre couldn’t make herself care.

What she did care about was that the other ended it.

Allie fought her light free, then her body. She slid out from where Chandre had her pinned to the wall, now not looking at Chan at all, her cheeks and neck flushed bright red.

“I’m sorry,” Allie said, her voice low, almost gruff.

Chandre didn’t answer.

The Bridge stood there for a second or two more, as if unsure what else to say. Chan found herself wondering how much time had passed…how long they’d been kissing before the Bridge forced her back.

She was still wondering…

When Allie turned away from her entirely.

Chandre watched, wordless, as the Bridge walked swiftly across the top of the wall. The intermediary didn’t pause in her silent, mulei-trained steps.

She didn’t look back.

Chandre continued to stare in that direction after the Bridge disappeared through the dark opening that led to the landing of the tower stairs.

By then, she could no longer feel her, either.

It didn’t occur to her what she’d done until then.

It didn’t occur to her to be afraid until a few seconds after that.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Revik said.

He shook his head, avoiding the eyes of the seer standing across from him.

He looked up at a dense pocket of trees near them instead, watching their tops sway in a light breeze that tunneled through the opening in the building. A pond stood at the base of those trees, crossed by a small footbridge made of real wood. Revik saw flashes of gold and orange-colored scales under the murky water, now overgrown with algae from neglect since the building had been abandoned.

They were on the thirty-third floor of what had once been a high-end apartment complex overlooking Lumphini Park. The floor consisted almost entirely of this open-air garden patio, complete with a small lawn, several koi and goldfish ponds, scattered tiki torches and Christmas lights wrapped around the trunks and branches of twenty-foot trees.

The patio cut an odd, square hole through the middle of the building, hosting a view north and south for several miles in each direction. A bar stood on one end of the garden, along with a cluster of tables and chairs among the trees and patches of lawn. The bar was cleaned out now of course, with most of the glassware and all of the alcohol long gone.

Even so, it would have been a pleasant place to be, under different circumstances.

Revik could see smoke on the horizon, even from here.

“I can’t,” Revik added, tearing his eyes off the horizon. “I can’t do it to her…we can’t just…” Revik trailed, feeling his face warm. Shaking his head at nothing, he clicked under his breath, speaking in a lower voice. “I can’t do this to her, ‘Dor. Not now.”

He didn’t want to talk about this with the Adhipan seer.

He hated having to share any part of this with him, or with anyone really.

Balidor seemed to pick up on most of this, at least if Revik was having any luck in reading him at all. The fact that Revik’s own light and emotions appeared to be entirely transparent to the other seer didn’t exactly reassure him either, especially since they’d been working primarily on shielding for the past six weeks.

Balidor seemed to feel that, too.

“Do not trouble yourself, young brother,” the Adhipan leader said, clicking softly. “You are doing very well. Tarsi and I have built…well…back doors, in a sense. Into your light. You cannot gauge your progress on these things with the two of us, brother.”

At Revik’s frown, Balidor held up a calming hand.

“We are not using them invasively, I assure you,” Balidor said. “They are meant primarily for use during operations. For when you do not wish to be felt by others but would prefer a line to our people.” Balidor paused, then made an apologetic wave with one hand. “…And in lieu of being in contact with your wife.”

Revik felt his face harden at that, too.

He fought to shake it off.

“What do you suggest?” Revik said. “With the other problem, I mean?”

Without meaning to, he adopted an almost defensive stance, his arms folded over his chest, his feet planted wide enough to be borderline aggressive.

Balidor clearly felt his discomfort.

“Brother,” Balidor said, sighing and clicking audibly. “What do you want from me right now? Are you really asking my permission to have sexual relations with your wife?”

“I’m asking what would be
safe,”
Revik growled. “I’m asking what you recommend, goddamn it. Is that so hard? Are you really refusing to help me with this?”

Balidor folded his own arms across his chest.

Revik felt another pale pulse of discomfort off the other seer. It occurred to him that some of that discomfort had to do with Balidor’s own history with Allie. Being reminded that this man had slept with his wife didn’t exactly improve Revik’s mood, though.

He forced himself to remain silent when he felt the other seer thinking.

“Well.” Balidor made a vague gesture with one hand, again belying his discomfort. He cleared his throat. “…If you are concerned, and clearly you are, Tarsi and I could oversee it. Or perhaps not me, but Tarsi…Yumi, perhaps. Or…” Balidor hesitated, then looked up, meeting Revik’s gaze. “Or,” he continued more carefully. “You could combine it with the other wish you expressed with her. The one having to do with more global security concerns. Now might be an appropriate time to entertain something along those lines anyway…you could raise it with her. See what she says, yes?”

Balidor trailed, making another eloquent but vague gesture with his hand.

Revik stared at him, his mind blank.

For those few seconds, he had absolutely no idea what Balidor was talking about.

Seeming to sense Revik’s confusion, the Adhipan seer sent a flickering cluster of images at Revik’s light. The cluster came through fast but crystal clear; they solidified into memories even as they swam behind Revik’s eyes.

As a result, emotion came with them.

The feelings came through sharp and weirdly immediate…strange only because so much had happened in the time since.

The hotel. New York.

A conversation at that restaurant, The Third Jewel, right after they got back from Argentina. Everyone tired…exhausted, really. Revik in so much pain he was having trouble controlling his light, much less keeping his hands off of his wife. He’d just found out Allie was likely pregnant. The information had made him half-crazy, even apart from the pain…but also maybe happier than he’d ever been in his life.

Scared. Fuck, he’d been scared.

Menlim had just broken the structures he used for telekinesis.

He couldn’t protect her. She was already going blind from the pregnancy itself and he had no real way to protect her.

He’d been worried about her. He’d wanted the others to protect her when he couldn’t. He’d tried to talk her into forming a stronger bond with their leadership team. He’d wanted her light more in theirs…and theirs in hers.

He’d wanted her to…

He felt his stomach clench.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with two of his fingers. Switching from Prexci to English, he heard his German accent come out more strongly. “Jesus, ‘Dor. She might stab me for real if I bring that up now.”

Balidor gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Perhaps,” he said.

Keeping his expression neutral, Balidor made his words even more careful.

“…Or perhaps,” he continued, “…Given the circumstances, she might agree that it makes sense now, Illustrious Sword. Both to have her bound more tightly to the group to better protect herself and Lily…and to help you both with your…” Balidor gestured with the same hand, his voice betraying his discomfort. “…Other problem.”