Allie's War Season Three (141 page)

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Authors: JC Andrijeski

BOOK: Allie's War Season Three
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Looking at him another few seconds, I realized I needed to concede defeat, at least for now.

Exhaling, I watched him continue to squint at the small print.

"Don't tell me you need glasses," I said teasingly, still watching him. When he continued to squint, however, my joking turned into genuine puzzlement. "...You know I was kidding with the 'old man' cracks, right? Even Vash didn't wear glasses. I figured it was like the teeth thing, where seers don’t age in all of those usual, human ways..."

"We don't," he said, his voice distracted as he continued to stare at the menu, his eyes seeming to fight for focus. As if giving up, he pushed the laminated pages over to where I could read them. "...It's my aleimi. I can't seem to get it to calm down for some reason." Smiling at me wanly, he nudged my arm. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” I snorted. “How do you figure?”

He glanced at me after I said it, and I noticed that his irises were glowing. Feeling another hard flush of pain leave him, I stared at him in bewilderment, even as I felt my own light react.

"...Maybe it’s not you,” he said, softer. “Maybe it’s just something in my light. But you’re definitely making it worse.”

“I’m
making it worse?” I said, cocking an eyebrow. “Really.”

He waved dismissively. “Chicken and egg. Either way, you'd better order that coffee, wife. You might want to order two..."

Giving a short laugh, I rolled my eyes again, but I found myself shifting in my seat a little, too, still reacting to his light in spite of myself. He was sitting closer to me now and laid a hand on my thigh, massaging it slowly as he continued to read the menu over my shoulder, neither of which helped my own focus in the slightest.

Before I could say anything, two waitpersons I knew showed up at our table, grinning from ear to ear. The female with the dark, auburn hair set my favorite, decadent coffee drink on the table in front of me with a flourish, putting a second one down in front of Revik, who smiled a thanks.

I was still talking to her, telling her about the trip back from Argentina and the crazy scene we'd witnessed outside of the city, when other seers began to arrive. It wasn't just the seers who'd been with us in the crate, either, but all of them, meaning a number of those who'd been forced to go through the quarantine at the docks, as well.

That the latter made it through the port protocols so quickly surprised me, but also demonstrated that seers coming to New York City weren’t a concern for SCARB or the NYPD, at least not yet. Within minutes, more chairs were pulled up, along with four or five more tables, which extended our booth out into the main floor until we basically took up that whole end of the restaurant.

I couldn't help noticing the stares of humans and new-refugee seers from other parts of the restaurant. Those stares continued as we started to talk and throw jokes and banter back and forth across the long table. The kitchen staff had already started working on food for us, so no one had even really looked at a menu yet when heaping platters began to appear, carried on shoulders by waitstaff who emerged in ever-increasing numbers from the kitchen. Plates, glasses and utensils soon followed, along with pitchers of juice, coffee, water and milk. I even saw a few harder drinks circulating as infiltrators started to wind down, and to pull their light off high-alert status after days and days of nothing but vigilance and stress.

Looking around at all of them, it hit me again, that the trip had been disastrous in some ways. Even in our few victories, it had been hard on everyone.

"Few died, wife," Revik reminded me, caressing my fingers. "That's a victory."

I nodded, relaxing a little. He was right, of course.

The kitchen staff spoiled us with a mound of blueberry pancakes, syrup of every variety, followed by crepes, croissants, sausages, bacon, eggs, toast, a large bowl of fruit that was simply heavenly after days of crap restaurant and 'field food,' as Revik called it, the seer equivalent of canned beans. As we dug into the comfort fare, they began bringing out more gourmet offerings, too, including fancy-looking and incredibly delicate pastries. They even had a large green salad, almost like they knew we hadn't seen a lot of fresh vegetables, either, and despite the fact that I knew they were probably getting low on that kind of thing already.

I found myself looking around at everyone, all of us filthy, sweaty, sore, bruised and battered...all of us needing at least eight hours of real sleep, if not closer to a solid twenty-four. Most, if not all of us, in dire need of alone time even beyond sleep, both the paired variety and the more solitary version.

Of course, some of us smelled more like
vomit
than others.

Revik laughed. I felt another pulse of heat on him as he leaned down to my ear.

"It's barely noticeable, love," he murmured.

"I meant you," I said back, grinning at him.

Instead of answering, he kissed me, hard enough and with enough behind it that I reacted before my mind caught up, curling my fingers into his hair when he didn't pull away. Before I knew it, I was coiling my light into his, sliding close enough that I wrapped a leg over his lap. I stopped him when his hand started pulling at the buckles on my vest, his fingers even more deft than usual.

When we both came up for air, half the table was laughing at us.

I fought to smile back, but honestly, I wasn’t feeling that amused at that point, especially with Revik pulling on my light in sharp jerks, his fingers still deliberately massaging the muscles of my thigh. Even so, I found myself thinking that the others looked cheered by seeing us together for some reason.

Maybe just because, like Revik said, most of us made it out of that mess alive.

When I glanced at Revik though, he didn’t look particularly amused, either. His eyes were glowing brighter, bright enough to be visible to more than just me. He took my hand after the others had looked away, pulling it into his lap. He held it against him deliberately, closing his eyes when I let him. He rested his face briefly on my shoulder, leaning his mouth by my ear and still holding my hand on him as he merged his light further into mine.

"Gods, wife," he said, quieter. "Don’t stop...please..."

Luckily everyone was loud enough by then that no one heard him but me.

"You weren't kidding," I told him softly. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“No. Not right now. Soon, though...” He sent another, stronger pulse of heat. "Thanks to that poser son of a bitch ex- of yours, I'm feeling possessive, too. On the verge of marking my territory possessive..."

I smiled, somewhat humorlessly that time, but didn't ask who he meant.

"Are you actually extended?" I murmured instead, feeling another pulse of heat off him.

He nodded, his hand now deeper on my thigh, between my legs. I felt him pulling on me, wanting me to use my hand more deliberately. "Please," he said, quieter. "I'll be quiet, I promise...please, wife..."

"In here?" I murmured, raising an eyebrow at him. "No."

"I'll be quiet," he repeated, softer. “They want us to, anyway.”

I laughed, but felt my cheeks warm when his light coiled deeper into mine, pulling on me unapologetically. I pushed him off a few seconds later, feeling my breath shortening, enough that I knew we were treading on dangerous ground, given everything going on between our light right then. When I looked up next, I was having trouble focusing my eyes, and Wreg was smirking at me, nudging Jorag to look at the two of us.

"Check out the horny youngsters," he scoffed, pointing at us with the hand that clutched a glass of orange juice. "Is this your way of ensuring we all get laid tonight? Or are you looking to start some kind of orgy...?" Wreg looked down the table then, calling out in a loud voice. "...Who's up for group sex at Nenzi's place?"

I felt a scattered wave of different lights reacting down the table to his words, not all of them strictly in humor. I could even feel smatterings of what Revik referenced when he said they wanted us to fool around in here.

I have to admit, it threw me.

Even contemplating that idea felt pretty weird with this group...a lot weirder than it had with the rebels at that base in China. That was the only other time I’d ever been in a situation where a group of seers wanted to light-bond following a particularly dangerous op...and really, that had been awkward enough. I got that it was at least partly biological, that wanting to be closer to the light of the leaders of the group, but yeah, it threw me.

I mean, I knew these people. Even just knowing some of them wanted to, or were even tempted to want to, was weird.

Hell, my brother’s
boyfriend
was here.

Balidor was here. I couldn’t imagine Revik being totally cool with that, either, no matter how many fences had been mended in that area.

On the surface everyone only laughed, though, shaking their heads at Wreg.

Jorag winked at me, then wrapped an arm around Neela, causing Yumi to burst out in an uncharacteristic laugh. I didn’t miss the look Poresh gave Wreg, either, or the pulse of heat that came off Illeg’s light as she took in Holo’s body in a single, predatory gaze.

Luckily, Revik didn’t seem to see most of the flirting, especially Jorag or Garensche’s smiles at me. Catching my gaze, Balidor only rolled his eyes, half in apology, even as I saw a smile tug at his lips. I smiled back, fighting to keep my expression as light as his.

It struck me suddenly, that Wreg probably hadn't told Jon about that whole “incident” at the Rebel hideout in the Chinese mountains yet, either. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I found myself thinking that Wreg had better lay off with the jokes about orgies with the boss, or he was going to get all of us in trouble.

Seeing Wreg's quizzical look along with the faintly predatory smile, I blanked out my expression...wiping my mind clean, too, even as I stuffed a fork-full of blueberry pancake in my mouth.

When I glanced up at Revik next, he frowned.

"You
started this,” I said defensively. “Don’t you dare get pissed off at me.”

Revik nodded, but that other look remained on his face as he glanced at Wreg. He didn't let his gaze linger, but I saw Wreg notice that, too, and couldn't help seeing the sharper look that came to his expression as he looked between us.

"He's going to find out eventually, you know," Revik murmured, his eyes focusing elsewhere along the table. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t include Wreg in this. It’s too soon.”

I gave him a sharper look. “You were serious. About the bonding thing?”

He gave me a level look. “I wasn’t entirely not serious.” Hesitating, he took a bite of pancake off my plate, popping it into his mouth with his fork. When he finished chewing and swallowing, he seemed about to say more, then shook his head, as if in surrender.

“Yeah. I’m serious. And I want Wreg involved, so that means Jon.”

“What?” I said, letting the hand holding my fork fall to thunk on the table. “No. No way. Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Revik said, giving me a hard look. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “I have absolutely
no idea
why. You have a reason, too. A specific one. What aren’t you telling me?”

He shook his head again, but not exactly in a ‘no.’ Glancing at my expression, he frowned a little. “I just want the group tighter,” he said. “I think we need it, given what’s probably coming our way. I want them more connected to you...”

“More connected to me?” My lips pursed as I looked at him. “Why me?”

“Because I can’t protect you right now,” he said, colder. “Not on my own.”

I blinked, staring at him again in disbelief. “Hey. Overprotective guy. Telekinetic seer here. Just train me to use the telekinesis better, then you won’t need to protect me, all right?”

He gave me a hard look.

Seeing the utter lack of compromise in his expression, I felt my pulse quicken, even as my mouth twisted into another frown.

“You’re serious?” I said. “Jesus, Revik. That’s a terrible idea.”

“Is it?” he said, staring at me. “Think about it, Allie.”

“I am thinking about it,” I said, keeping my voice low with an effort. “Jon would totally flip out. Even if he went along with it,
I
would flip out. I don’t want to do that with Jon! I don’t want to do that with any of them! There’d be issues with Jon and Wreg afterwards...just from the way Yumi and Delek look at Jon, I can guarantee that. Never mind Oli and Poresh and whichever of the
other
seers might have a crush on Wreg...” When Revik clicked at me in irritation, I added, “You had an issue with
me
afterwards, remember? Do you really want to have sex in front of
Balidor,
given everything?”

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