Allie's War Season One (79 page)

“I missed you, too.” My voice came out soft, lower than a whisper. “A lot, Revik...every day.”

Warmth pulsed off his light, but I felt him pull it back, restraining it.

I felt him wanting to say more. Finally, he caressed my face, his fingers gentle as he brushed hair out of my eyes.

“You saved my life,” he said. “...again, Allie.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t know why. I heard you. With Galaith. You have no idea how wrong you are...about what I think of you. You couldn’t be more wrong about that, Allie...”

Glancing up at him, I smiled a little, in spite of myself.

“Just a little slow, right?” I said, my voice teasing. “...A little worm-like?”

He gripped my hair. “You saved my life. Again, Allie.”

My smile faded as I looked at him. I watched his mouth harden, felt his fingers tighten on me as he searched for words.

“You’re all I’ve thought about,” he said. “For months, Allie...even before.”

I didn’t ask him before what. I was staring at him again, a little thrown.

Cautiously, I let my fingers trace his jaw. For a long moment, he didn’t move, letting me touch him as he held me against the seat. I caressed his neck, even his fingers, before going back to his face. I didn’t hide my reactions to how thin he was. I felt his light start to respond, coiling deeper into mine as he lowered his mouth. My hand tightened in his shirt as his lips touched my throat. I jumped when I felt his tongue glide over my skin.

He raised his head, his eyes glassed. He swallowed, staring at me.

I met his gaze, fighting disbelief.

“Are you going to leave me?” he said.

I stared between his eyes. Clearing my throat, I shook my head.

“No,” I said.

I saw tension leave his face. I could feel him wanting to say more. It hung there, between us, as he thought through words, as if practicing different ways to say it.

Then, he seemed to give up.

He leaned closer. His lips brushed my mouth, a near question.

I held my breath as he kissed me again. His light remained cautious, coiled around his body...I felt him feeding on me still, too, probably in reflex since he was still low on light. At my thought, he took my hand, placing it on the center of his chest. For a moment both of us just hung there as he pulled light through my fingers.

Then he made a low sound, lowering his mouth to mine.

We were kissing then. I felt nothing but restraint on him at first, a near caution as his fingers touched my hands. I was holding back, too, I realized...but when the pull grew stronger, I found myself opening. My light changed. I’d barely touched my tongue to his when I felt him react. He kissed me again, parting my lips, gasping a little against my mouth. I touched his face again, and he closed his eyes, leaning into my hand, sliding his fingers into my hair.

Then he had me pinned against the seat.

He kissed me harder, leaning his weight on me. When I clasped his neck, he made another low sound. I felt him asking me then, felt everything about him grow soft, melting into my light, against my body. Pain slid through me, almost debilitating, and he let out a groan, his hand clenching on my hip. He kissed me again, using light in his tongue. I realized he was hard, even as he started to open for real, to unfurl his light—

“Hey!” Jon thumped Revik on the back.

Both of us jumped.

“Chill out,” he said. “You guys are like teenagers, I swear.” He punched Revik’s arm. “That’s still my sister, man. Married or not...no way am I going to watch you two go native in here.”

I let go of him at once and Revik raised his head.

His eyes were out of focus, almost drugged, but he nodded to Jon’s words. I felt another set of eyes on me and glanced forward as Maygar looked away from the rearview mirror.

Only then did I realize how quiet the car was.

My eyes found Cass’s and she grinned at me, shaking her head. The scar pulled at her face when she smiled, changing its shape.

Even Eddard looked faintly amused in his one glance backwards.

Jon patted Revik on the leg. “Sorry, man,” he said. “Just wait until we get somewhere, okay?”

When the silence stretched, Maygar cleared his throat, leaning down to punch in the car’s audio feed.

“...This just confirmed,” the announcer’s tinny, avatar voice blared in an English accent. “...The President of the United States is dead. The White House physician issued a statement minutes ago, outlining how a series of gunshot wounds proved fatal after severing not one but two major arteries. The unidentified attacker first broke in and shot the Vice President, Ethan Wellington, in his state room at the Vice Presidential mansion, leaving him for dead before...”

I glanced over to see Cass gaping at the radio. Jon, on the other side of Revik, wore an expression that mirrored hers. Then all five of them were staring at me.

Maygar was the first to break the silence.

He snorted, glancing at me in the mirror.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” he said. “Galaith. El Presidente.” Reading the assent in my silence, he focused back on the road. “I don’t know what scares me more,” he said. “The idea that you’re on my side...or that you may not always be.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I said.

Maygar laughed. “No. You just made sure every seer who wanted him dead knew exactly where he was.” He muttered, “Brilliant, really. I’d have thought more would be loyal.”

“Some
were
loyal,” I said.

“Well at least
one
wasn’t,” Maygar retorted.

I glanced at Revik. He reached into my lap and took my hand, clasping my fingers tightly.

“You did the right thing,” he said.

I nodded, looking at our entwined fingers.

I glanced out the window. The sun finally peered through the overcast England sky. Even through thick pollution and clouds, columns of fogged gold cascaded down to illuminate discrete pockets of humanity and green lawn.

I thought about going back to that high perch in the Himalayas, with the monkeys and chai and golden eagles floating over strings of prayer flags and snow-covered mountains and trees. I thought about being there with Jon and Cass, hiking with them and hanging out in the markets, going swimming and exploring and making friends with the other seers.

I thought about being there with Revik...and I smiled.

When I glanced up, he was staring at me. He touched my face when I averted my gaze, and I felt a pulse of warmth off him, affection that slid into something else, that grew almost tentative as it expanded soft tendrils through my chest. It strengthened as I gripped his hand, until I was sending the same back to him, tugging gently on his fingers.

He pulled me closer, letting me into more of his light.

I could feel it by then, what he’d wanted to tell me.

That time, when he stared at me, I didn’t look away.

Epilogue

ETHAN

ETHAN WELLINGTON STOOD on the steps of the U.S. Capitol Building.

A crowd of several thousands...likely tens of thousands...flooded down the steps and into the parkway below, filling every empty space for as far as his physical eyes could see. He saw them standing on streetlamp bases, on curbs, in the street, on the grass. They filled every spot not taken up by another physical object, or cordoned off by the legion of secret service and military who blanketed over half the city in the wake of the President’s assassination.

The vast majority of those in the crowd were human, of course.

Still, he’d received well-wishes from several of the seers’ delegations prior to his arrival for the ceremony, as well. They apologized for their inability to come in person, but Ethan understood better than anyone why no recognizable seer would be safe on the streets of DC today, or perhaps the streets of any major city in the United States.

Three weeks had passed since his friend Daniel Caine had died.

Since the assassin had been identified as a seer who did contract work with the Chinese, as well as who had been involved in terrorist attacks in Europe and the Middle East, the country had been in an uproar.

Still, fear and hysteria had their uses.

The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court stood opposite him now, wearing full dress robes. She had only been newly appointed to the role, in the wake of the mysterious death of her predecessor, and since she was new also to the Court itself, the appointment had surprised a number of people. It broke protocol for an Associate Justice to rise to the top spot so quickly, but no one seemed willing to question precisely
how
it had happened, either. Of course, it would have surprised people even more to know that she wasn’t the same person who had been appointed to the Court the year previous.

The few who knew her well now all appeared to be unavailable for comment, however...one more advantage to the image ban in place for all public figures.

A few well-planned eliminations, some reconstructive surgery and a number of more thorough mind wipes and re-patternings, and no one asked any more questions.

Ethan approved the action.

Hell, it had been his idea.

Few in his inner circle even questioned it. Then again, that circle had grown smaller in the past weeks as well, by necessity as much as design.

On one thing they all agreed, civilians and government alike. The country needed to be in firm hands right now.

When the Chief Justice looked up, Ethan smiled, meeting the older woman’s eyes.

Hey doc,
he thought at her with his human mind.
What’s up?

Xarethe’s expression did not flicker.

“Sir,” she said. “Please raise your right hand.”

Ethan did as he was told. His left hand, which still poked from the end of a dark blue sling, the color of which perfectly matched his suit, he placed on a King James Bible.

The Chief Justice, in her outdated glasses, flashed the slightest bit of warning from her lizard-like eyes. All trace of the German accent evaporated when she said,

“Are you prepared to take the Oath, Mr. Vice President?”

Ethan glanced out over the crowd as they burst into cheers of ecstatic applause. He’d broken a conspiracy in the heart of the White House, even tried to save Caine’s life as he lay dying on the conference room rug. The applause grew more frenetic, more emotional. It was amazing how quickly they forgot.

But humans always loved a good story.

“I am,” he said. “...Ready, that is.”

She smiled, raising her right hand. “Very well, sir. Please repeat after me...”

He only half-listened as he intoned the phrases after she spoke them.

His eyes scanned faces in his nearer audience, where his wife, Helen, stood by a little girl in a purple dress with a stuffed white rabbit clutched to her chest. The rabbit was brand new, its fur gleaming a pristine white. The little girl gazed up at him, oblivious to the screams and cheers of the people flooding the steps below the balcony below her. Her small body remained entirely erect, dwarfed among the crush of staffers, family and Justices on that higher platform, along with the Speaker of the House and members of his Cabinet, cushioned on either end by a generous array of Secret Service agents.