21 Shades of Night, page 118
The linoleum blurred.
My mind pieced together words, fragments of conversations, references. I remembered the look on Ivy and Ullysa’s faces in the kitchen when I wouldn’t go to him that morning, his half-assed apology about Kat, the constant, oblique references to whatever happened between us that first night we spent in Seattle...
“You know it’s illegal for seers, right?” Eliah said.
“Illegal?” I repeated numbly.
“Infidelity. You need permission. I’m assuming you didn’t give him that?”
I stood there, unable to answer. Thinking about Jaden, my parole, the look on Kat’s face when she thought I’d offered her Revik...
Tugging my shirt back over my head, I turned off the water.
After standing by the door a second more, I opened it, and found myself meeting the serious eyes of Eliah, one blue and the other a near black. He started a bit, to find himself facing me so suddenly. For a moment we just looked at each other.
Then my jaw hardened, and I nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “Order food. I have a few questions.”
For a moment, Eliah only looked at me.
Then he broke out in a grin.
* * *
I CURLED UP in one of the round-backed chairs that passed for comfortable, a half-eaten plate of oysters on the counter next to me. I wasn’t hungry any more, but food and alcohol seemed to be the way to get Eliah to talk, just like it was with most humans.
Eliah himself sprawled on an identical chair to my left, drinking a beer as both of us faced out the balcony door to the sea.
I forced my attention back on the room, and on him.
Mechanically, I smiled at something he said.
“Really?” I said. “...What did you do then?”
He grinned, eyes glassy from alcohol. “I just picked myself up,” he said. “...Dusted myself off. Pretended I’d meant to stick my hand in that letter box.” He returned my grin, seeing me shake my head. “Those poor worms...”
I stiffened and he added apologetically,
“...Humans. We end up acting fairly idiotic around them sometimes, just to avoid the hassle of an exposure threat. It’s a real bitch to get your license back once it’s been yanked. And it’s one thing to move undetected by humans. When you’ve got the Sweeps on your arse, it’s a whole other story.”
He gestured around us, pointing to the television and the stocked bar.
“But hell... this is my home. Living in caves, chanting... not the life for me. I don’t much fancy being sold at auction to some rich dickhead, either. Clan tattoos get burned off, you know. Overambitious Sweeps who want a bit of extra cash and get bought off by the traders. Of course, being in the Guard protects me from most of that. Even the Sweeps won’t mess with the Seven too much. They don’t want to risk the Adhipan on their arses, either...
“...Thank Christ,” he added, leaning over the arm of the chair and swigging more of the beer. “But there’s the flip side of that, too. If I don’t make the effort to act a bit human-ish, the Sweeps would have me living out in the middle of Mongolia somewhere, milking oxen. Not much of an improvement, really.”
“The Sweeps?” I said, puzzled. “But they’re human, right?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’thir li’dare... that bastard Dags doesn’t tell you anything, does he? No. The Sweeps is part of the World Court, yeah, but they’re culled from the clans. They’re the police. Couldn’t rightly be human, could they?”
“You have your own police,” I repeated, a little dumbfounded.
In the human media, the Sweeps were always portrayed as a kind of global Homeland Security. They worked under SCARB, sure, or maybe adjacent to SCARB, tracking renegade seers, but it had never occurred to me they weren’t run by humans, or human themselves.
He flicked his fingers to the right and up, the gesture I recognized as “yes.”
“The Rooks have a heavy presence on the Sweeps, of course,” Eliah said. “They’re sort of a competing nation with the Seven, you could say... but it’s more a philosophical difference, really. The other nations tolerate them because whatever else they may be, the Rooks are good at concealment. Ironic really, as they were the first to advocate dominance over isolationism.”
He leaned back on his elbows.
“Containment’s a real controversial issue with seers these days, love,” he added. “Before, humans were seen more like animals...” He gave me another apologetic glance. “Most of us didn’t even want to interact with them, truth be told. The world was bigger back then, and it was easy to talk about non-interference, live and let live, will of the gods an’ all that. Now humans fly everywhere, go everywhere, want to see everything. Even our most isolated clans are stuck having to deal with them in one form or another... and there’s interbreeding and mixed marriage and all kinds of nonsense on our side, too.”
He winked at me. “We’ve got nasty libidos, we seers.”
I rolled my eyes, but grinned slightly.
“Damn, that’s cute,” he said, leaning back over the arm of the chair. “Fuck. How can he keep his hands off you?”
Feeling myself stiffen, I receded back into the cushion, propping my arms on the rounded back of the chair. “Okay,” I said. “I’m just going to ask. Do you really believe all of this Bridge stuff? About me killing everyone, ending the world?”
He broke into a laugh, spilling his beer.
“Trust Dags to put a positive spin on it. What a morose bastard.”
“Eliah,” I said. “What do you think? Honestly. If it’s true, I think it must have something to do with the Rooks. I’ve been studying their network, but until today, I never really—”
“You’ve been what?”
Eliah raised his head, staring at me. The sharpness of his voice took me aback a little.
“Studying their network,” I repeated.. “I’m interested in how it works. The way the whole top part seems to shift—”
“The succession order?”
It was my turn to stare. When I glimpsed images in his mind however, watching the different pieces of the Pyramid move up and down, trading places with one another under the top spot at the apex of the Pyramid, I found myself nodding. It was oddly reassuring that the thing I’d been looking at had a name.
“That’s right,” I said. “The succession order.”
“Why on earth would you be interested in that?” he said.
His voice remained sharp under the disbelief, and I saw what might have been wariness under that. For the first time in our conversation, I remembered he was an infiltrator, like Revik.
“We’ve never been able to see into that, love,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would you even look there? What do you expect to find, exactly?”
I smiled, but had to fight to keep the anger out of my voice.
“I know,” I said, smiling again. “It’s practically Revik’s mantra. It’s way over my head. I’m just a beginner... I get it. You don’t need to go there, Eli.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant, love.”
“So you don’t understand why I might be interested in the people who killed my mother?” I said, my own voice sharper. At his silence, I bit my lip. When he still didn’t say anything, I asked again, “So what do you think, Eli? Really. About the Bridge stuff, I mean.”
The hard look faded from his eyes, leaving the lighter one a clear blue.
“Love, I know you’re worried about reincarnation and all that,” he said, sighing. “But I don’t think that’s the point, really.”
“Then what is the point?”
“It’s about roles, see. Some are too important... some affect too many people to leave to chance. The Bridge is like that. There needs to be someone overseeing things, when something as heavy as a Displacement goes down.”
For a moment, I could only look at him, replaying what he’d said.
“You really believe all that stuff?” I said.
He grinned, resting his head on the chair’s back. “You sound surprised.”
“For a seer, you’re almost... normal. I had my hopes.”
Leaning forward, he placed his free hand, the one not gripping his beer, lightly on my thigh. “Does that mean you’re warming to me, then, love?”
Smiling, I shook my head, moving my legs out of reach of his fingers. “There’s a serious shortage of female seers on this ship, am I right?”
“Brutally small,” he agreed cheerfully. “And Chandre’s as likely to try for you as I am. But you’d be a peach anywhere, love. And that pain coming off you is simply... maddening. I don’t know how he can stand it...”
I felt my jaw harden again. I considered making a joke, trying to laugh it off, but decided there was no way it would come off.
I shrugged instead, folding my arms.
“Revik said that seer relationships were ‘complicated’... and largely biological. He said I shouldn’t take it personally. Is that true, too?”
Eliah snorted. “Bloody romantic.”
“Is it true, Eliah?”
He shrugged. “It’d be true in a way, I suppose. We’re a bit more biologically wired for monogamy than humans. But that’s not exactly the same thing, if you don’t mind my saying... and doesn’t have anything to do with who we choose as a mate. In fact, you could say the reverse is true.”
At my puzzled look, he shrugged with one hand, seer-fashion.
“The biological symptoms could be unsettling, I suppose. Especially if you didn’t know what was happening. Someone like you, who thought they were human, it’s got to be that much harder...” He frowned, studying my face. Leaning forward, he looked at my eyes.
“Gods. You’re not in love with him, are you, Allie-girl?”
I shook my head, but felt my chest clench a little anyway.
“I barely know him,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked.” Still studying my eyes, he added more cautiously, “The rest of us, we assumed you chose him for protection. Or, frankly, because he was the first male seer you met, and bad luck on you for that.”
He hesitated, laying a hand on my arm.
“But if you are in love with him. Well... that changes things. Won’t be so easy to pull out of this thing with him then, pet. And I’m sorry for that.” He caressed my arm. “I truly am.”
I focused on his eyes. They seemed to brighten strangely in the dim light of the cabin.
As they did, his words faded, as if someone twisted the dial on a radio.
Every other sound in the room seemed to amplify. Ambient noises grew deafening: the sound of the ocean through the propped-open door, the wind lightly banging the hanging blinds, the ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall. I heard an odd hitch in Eliah’s breath as he watched my face, his heart beating through his rib cage, slowing as he listened for my answer.
I had time to note I’d been kidding myself, telling myself I hadn’t known where he’d gone, or what he’d intended to do.
I got the chance to think the timing was ironic...
Then everything in the room dimmed.
I should have known I’d feel it when it happened. From what Eliah told me, along with what happened with Jaden... even from what little Revik had said, in his own vague way... I really should have known.
I should have known a lot of things, but they still always managed to surprise me.
Chapter 19
BREAKDOWN
...I STAND ON a rock bluff, above a valley riddled with spider-web cracks. Wind tunnels between chasms. Everything is gone. All trees, animals, plants are dust, blown away.
I’m alone. But not really. Not really alone.
...He raises himself up on his arms, sweating, reading her, watching her eyes as he brings her to the edge. I see the tattooed writing on his arm, sweat sticking his black hair to his neck and forehead as he moves over her, his arms tensed as he adjusts the angle of his body. He holds her still, fingers clenched in blond hair as he arches deeper... deep enough to pause when she cries out, holding some part of himself back, going in with his mind so he can feel it when...
She climaxes, gripping his arms. Pain ripples off him as he watches.
Then it worsens.
Red sunlight shines behind my lids, but that pale, bird-less sky fades.
I feel him fighting. With himself, with me. He loses control and then he’s asking me, winding some part of himself deeper into my light.
He pulls me inside of him, even with her lying between us.
...and he’s inside both of us now, and I feel his relief mixed with frustration, a kind of horror at what he’s doing even as he asks me again. He wants me now, more than he can tell me, more than I can let myself feel. It hurts, that want, but I’m lost inside the conflict on him too. Fear hovers behind desire, masked in anger at me for forcing him to revisit that place, to remember.
I would turn him back... make him into that thing he hates.
He is sure of it. He feels it with every part of his being.
I would turn him back, if he let me.
Above, the Pyramid rotates. There is more to see.
For now, alone... further back, below.
He would remember.
* * *
“HEY.” THE WOMAN fought to slow her breathing. She realized she’d never gotten his name. “Hey... are you okay?”
His pale skin wore the same sheen that matted her blond hair to her neck and shoulders, stuck the cotton sheet to her legs. She clutched at him, unable to help it. Her whole body still vibrated from what he’d done to her... seemingly again and again and again. He’d been unnervingly focused as he brought her to orgasm, but by the end, he’d surprised her by being verbal, too.
A lot more verbal than she would have guessed from their brief conversation in the bar.
He’d warned her it would be fast, and yet, there’d been something vulnerable about him once he let himself go. That vulnerability edged into a near-violence at times, but he hadn’t hurt her. He’d removed her clothes before they were all the way in the room, and she could tell he’d been holding back even then, using his mouth to buy them time, pushing her to talk to him.
Once he’d really started, she doubted he’d been aware of her at all.
When he finally came, he’d been nearly begging her.
Or begging someone, perhaps, to do... something.
Now he just lay there, like a dead person.
She wondered how she’d let him talk her into coming here. Her husband got them separate cabins—his idea, of course, to give them “more space” and because he claimed he couldn’t sleep with her snoring—but he had no compunction about stopping by when the mood struck him, or if he and the dance instructor had one of their spats. She cringed at the thought that she might have to explain a naked, male seer in her bed.
Although, really, it would serve him right.
“Hey.” She laid a hand on his chest. His skin felt cold. She kept her voice light, trying to smile. “Who’s Allie?”
She saw his expression change, just before he closed his eyes. She couldn’t help wondering though. A girlfriend? Did they even date?
Looking away, he shifted his weight on the mattress.
She caressed his hair. “Are you sick?”
He raised a hand, pushing hers off. She watched in disbelief as he wiped his face, doubting what she’d seen. Then his breathing changed, and she couldn’t deny what she heard. He was crying. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.
“Hey,” she said, a little alarmed. “What’s going on?”
When he spoke, his voice made her jump. She’d forgotten the accent.
“I’m married,” he said.
A surprised laugh caught in her throat. She tried to keep it out of her voice.
“So am I,” she said. “I thought that was the point.”
He looked at her. His pale eyes reflected light shining from under the door, almost like a cat’s eyes. Again, she remembered he wasn’t human. He stared back as if she were just as alien to him. Then he sat up. She watched him feel around on the floor for his pants, pulling them up over his legs and looping then hooking his belt. Standing, he found his shirt and drew it over his head, and now she felt emotion waver off him, clear as a scent. It was self-loathing.
She pulled the damp sheet tighter around herself. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
“Do you want money?” She recoiled in spite of herself, afraid of him once she saw the look in his eyes.
“No,” he said flatly. He didn’t look at her again.
Before she could think what to say next, he had bent down, picking up the shoulder harness that had shocked her when she had first seen it.
He donned it like a vest, velcroing it tight, checking the gun in obvious rote before shouldering on his jacket over it. She was still staring when he turned his back to her, aiming his feet for the door.
The light blinded her as he opened it onto the corridor... but it wasn’t open long.
Following the click of the latch, she lay back on the bed with a sigh. All she could feel was relief that he was gone, that she’d likely never see him again.
* * *
WHEN ELIAH FINISHED speaking, Chandre remained silent.
Eliah shared the construct with her, so he knew she was thinking to herself how ridiculous this was. Further, that it went beyond her job description as infiltrator to babysit two full-grown seers who, in her mind, should be alone in a cabin somewhere, getting acquainted in the carnal sense for at least a month before they were allowed to talk about their relationship in anything but monosyllables. That was the traditional way it was done, and the old forms existed for a reason.
Eliah kept the smile out of his light with an effort.
These two-hundred-year-old seers always groused about the past.
Is she all right? Chandre sent finally.
Well enough, yeah. He let her feel his frown. Threw up when she came to, and she won’t talk about it. Physically she’s fine. She’s out on the balcony—
My mind pieced together words, fragments of conversations, references. I remembered the look on Ivy and Ullysa’s faces in the kitchen when I wouldn’t go to him that morning, his half-assed apology about Kat, the constant, oblique references to whatever happened between us that first night we spent in Seattle...
“You know it’s illegal for seers, right?” Eliah said.
“Illegal?” I repeated numbly.
“Infidelity. You need permission. I’m assuming you didn’t give him that?”
I stood there, unable to answer. Thinking about Jaden, my parole, the look on Kat’s face when she thought I’d offered her Revik...
Tugging my shirt back over my head, I turned off the water.
After standing by the door a second more, I opened it, and found myself meeting the serious eyes of Eliah, one blue and the other a near black. He started a bit, to find himself facing me so suddenly. For a moment we just looked at each other.
Then my jaw hardened, and I nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “Order food. I have a few questions.”
For a moment, Eliah only looked at me.
Then he broke out in a grin.
* * *
I CURLED UP in one of the round-backed chairs that passed for comfortable, a half-eaten plate of oysters on the counter next to me. I wasn’t hungry any more, but food and alcohol seemed to be the way to get Eliah to talk, just like it was with most humans.
Eliah himself sprawled on an identical chair to my left, drinking a beer as both of us faced out the balcony door to the sea.
I forced my attention back on the room, and on him.
Mechanically, I smiled at something he said.
“Really?” I said. “...What did you do then?”
He grinned, eyes glassy from alcohol. “I just picked myself up,” he said. “...Dusted myself off. Pretended I’d meant to stick my hand in that letter box.” He returned my grin, seeing me shake my head. “Those poor worms...”
I stiffened and he added apologetically,
“...Humans. We end up acting fairly idiotic around them sometimes, just to avoid the hassle of an exposure threat. It’s a real bitch to get your license back once it’s been yanked. And it’s one thing to move undetected by humans. When you’ve got the Sweeps on your arse, it’s a whole other story.”
He gestured around us, pointing to the television and the stocked bar.
“But hell... this is my home. Living in caves, chanting... not the life for me. I don’t much fancy being sold at auction to some rich dickhead, either. Clan tattoos get burned off, you know. Overambitious Sweeps who want a bit of extra cash and get bought off by the traders. Of course, being in the Guard protects me from most of that. Even the Sweeps won’t mess with the Seven too much. They don’t want to risk the Adhipan on their arses, either...
“...Thank Christ,” he added, leaning over the arm of the chair and swigging more of the beer. “But there’s the flip side of that, too. If I don’t make the effort to act a bit human-ish, the Sweeps would have me living out in the middle of Mongolia somewhere, milking oxen. Not much of an improvement, really.”
“The Sweeps?” I said, puzzled. “But they’re human, right?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’thir li’dare... that bastard Dags doesn’t tell you anything, does he? No. The Sweeps is part of the World Court, yeah, but they’re culled from the clans. They’re the police. Couldn’t rightly be human, could they?”
“You have your own police,” I repeated, a little dumbfounded.
In the human media, the Sweeps were always portrayed as a kind of global Homeland Security. They worked under SCARB, sure, or maybe adjacent to SCARB, tracking renegade seers, but it had never occurred to me they weren’t run by humans, or human themselves.
He flicked his fingers to the right and up, the gesture I recognized as “yes.”
“The Rooks have a heavy presence on the Sweeps, of course,” Eliah said. “They’re sort of a competing nation with the Seven, you could say... but it’s more a philosophical difference, really. The other nations tolerate them because whatever else they may be, the Rooks are good at concealment. Ironic really, as they were the first to advocate dominance over isolationism.”
He leaned back on his elbows.
“Containment’s a real controversial issue with seers these days, love,” he added. “Before, humans were seen more like animals...” He gave me another apologetic glance. “Most of us didn’t even want to interact with them, truth be told. The world was bigger back then, and it was easy to talk about non-interference, live and let live, will of the gods an’ all that. Now humans fly everywhere, go everywhere, want to see everything. Even our most isolated clans are stuck having to deal with them in one form or another... and there’s interbreeding and mixed marriage and all kinds of nonsense on our side, too.”
He winked at me. “We’ve got nasty libidos, we seers.”
I rolled my eyes, but grinned slightly.
“Damn, that’s cute,” he said, leaning back over the arm of the chair. “Fuck. How can he keep his hands off you?”
Feeling myself stiffen, I receded back into the cushion, propping my arms on the rounded back of the chair. “Okay,” I said. “I’m just going to ask. Do you really believe all of this Bridge stuff? About me killing everyone, ending the world?”
He broke into a laugh, spilling his beer.
“Trust Dags to put a positive spin on it. What a morose bastard.”
“Eliah,” I said. “What do you think? Honestly. If it’s true, I think it must have something to do with the Rooks. I’ve been studying their network, but until today, I never really—”
“You’ve been what?”
Eliah raised his head, staring at me. The sharpness of his voice took me aback a little.
“Studying their network,” I repeated.. “I’m interested in how it works. The way the whole top part seems to shift—”
“The succession order?”
It was my turn to stare. When I glimpsed images in his mind however, watching the different pieces of the Pyramid move up and down, trading places with one another under the top spot at the apex of the Pyramid, I found myself nodding. It was oddly reassuring that the thing I’d been looking at had a name.
“That’s right,” I said. “The succession order.”
“Why on earth would you be interested in that?” he said.
His voice remained sharp under the disbelief, and I saw what might have been wariness under that. For the first time in our conversation, I remembered he was an infiltrator, like Revik.
“We’ve never been able to see into that, love,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would you even look there? What do you expect to find, exactly?”
I smiled, but had to fight to keep the anger out of my voice.
“I know,” I said, smiling again. “It’s practically Revik’s mantra. It’s way over my head. I’m just a beginner... I get it. You don’t need to go there, Eli.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant, love.”
“So you don’t understand why I might be interested in the people who killed my mother?” I said, my own voice sharper. At his silence, I bit my lip. When he still didn’t say anything, I asked again, “So what do you think, Eli? Really. About the Bridge stuff, I mean.”
The hard look faded from his eyes, leaving the lighter one a clear blue.
“Love, I know you’re worried about reincarnation and all that,” he said, sighing. “But I don’t think that’s the point, really.”
“Then what is the point?”
“It’s about roles, see. Some are too important... some affect too many people to leave to chance. The Bridge is like that. There needs to be someone overseeing things, when something as heavy as a Displacement goes down.”
For a moment, I could only look at him, replaying what he’d said.
“You really believe all that stuff?” I said.
He grinned, resting his head on the chair’s back. “You sound surprised.”
“For a seer, you’re almost... normal. I had my hopes.”
Leaning forward, he placed his free hand, the one not gripping his beer, lightly on my thigh. “Does that mean you’re warming to me, then, love?”
Smiling, I shook my head, moving my legs out of reach of his fingers. “There’s a serious shortage of female seers on this ship, am I right?”
“Brutally small,” he agreed cheerfully. “And Chandre’s as likely to try for you as I am. But you’d be a peach anywhere, love. And that pain coming off you is simply... maddening. I don’t know how he can stand it...”
I felt my jaw harden again. I considered making a joke, trying to laugh it off, but decided there was no way it would come off.
I shrugged instead, folding my arms.
“Revik said that seer relationships were ‘complicated’... and largely biological. He said I shouldn’t take it personally. Is that true, too?”
Eliah snorted. “Bloody romantic.”
“Is it true, Eliah?”
He shrugged. “It’d be true in a way, I suppose. We’re a bit more biologically wired for monogamy than humans. But that’s not exactly the same thing, if you don’t mind my saying... and doesn’t have anything to do with who we choose as a mate. In fact, you could say the reverse is true.”
At my puzzled look, he shrugged with one hand, seer-fashion.
“The biological symptoms could be unsettling, I suppose. Especially if you didn’t know what was happening. Someone like you, who thought they were human, it’s got to be that much harder...” He frowned, studying my face. Leaning forward, he looked at my eyes.
“Gods. You’re not in love with him, are you, Allie-girl?”
I shook my head, but felt my chest clench a little anyway.
“I barely know him,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked.” Still studying my eyes, he added more cautiously, “The rest of us, we assumed you chose him for protection. Or, frankly, because he was the first male seer you met, and bad luck on you for that.”
He hesitated, laying a hand on my arm.
“But if you are in love with him. Well... that changes things. Won’t be so easy to pull out of this thing with him then, pet. And I’m sorry for that.” He caressed my arm. “I truly am.”
I focused on his eyes. They seemed to brighten strangely in the dim light of the cabin.
As they did, his words faded, as if someone twisted the dial on a radio.
Every other sound in the room seemed to amplify. Ambient noises grew deafening: the sound of the ocean through the propped-open door, the wind lightly banging the hanging blinds, the ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall. I heard an odd hitch in Eliah’s breath as he watched my face, his heart beating through his rib cage, slowing as he listened for my answer.
I had time to note I’d been kidding myself, telling myself I hadn’t known where he’d gone, or what he’d intended to do.
I got the chance to think the timing was ironic...
Then everything in the room dimmed.
I should have known I’d feel it when it happened. From what Eliah told me, along with what happened with Jaden... even from what little Revik had said, in his own vague way... I really should have known.
I should have known a lot of things, but they still always managed to surprise me.
Chapter 19
BREAKDOWN
...I STAND ON a rock bluff, above a valley riddled with spider-web cracks. Wind tunnels between chasms. Everything is gone. All trees, animals, plants are dust, blown away.
I’m alone. But not really. Not really alone.
...He raises himself up on his arms, sweating, reading her, watching her eyes as he brings her to the edge. I see the tattooed writing on his arm, sweat sticking his black hair to his neck and forehead as he moves over her, his arms tensed as he adjusts the angle of his body. He holds her still, fingers clenched in blond hair as he arches deeper... deep enough to pause when she cries out, holding some part of himself back, going in with his mind so he can feel it when...
She climaxes, gripping his arms. Pain ripples off him as he watches.
Then it worsens.
Red sunlight shines behind my lids, but that pale, bird-less sky fades.
I feel him fighting. With himself, with me. He loses control and then he’s asking me, winding some part of himself deeper into my light.
He pulls me inside of him, even with her lying between us.
...and he’s inside both of us now, and I feel his relief mixed with frustration, a kind of horror at what he’s doing even as he asks me again. He wants me now, more than he can tell me, more than I can let myself feel. It hurts, that want, but I’m lost inside the conflict on him too. Fear hovers behind desire, masked in anger at me for forcing him to revisit that place, to remember.
I would turn him back... make him into that thing he hates.
He is sure of it. He feels it with every part of his being.
I would turn him back, if he let me.
Above, the Pyramid rotates. There is more to see.
For now, alone... further back, below.
He would remember.
* * *
“HEY.” THE WOMAN fought to slow her breathing. She realized she’d never gotten his name. “Hey... are you okay?”
His pale skin wore the same sheen that matted her blond hair to her neck and shoulders, stuck the cotton sheet to her legs. She clutched at him, unable to help it. Her whole body still vibrated from what he’d done to her... seemingly again and again and again. He’d been unnervingly focused as he brought her to orgasm, but by the end, he’d surprised her by being verbal, too.
A lot more verbal than she would have guessed from their brief conversation in the bar.
He’d warned her it would be fast, and yet, there’d been something vulnerable about him once he let himself go. That vulnerability edged into a near-violence at times, but he hadn’t hurt her. He’d removed her clothes before they were all the way in the room, and she could tell he’d been holding back even then, using his mouth to buy them time, pushing her to talk to him.
Once he’d really started, she doubted he’d been aware of her at all.
When he finally came, he’d been nearly begging her.
Or begging someone, perhaps, to do... something.
Now he just lay there, like a dead person.
She wondered how she’d let him talk her into coming here. Her husband got them separate cabins—his idea, of course, to give them “more space” and because he claimed he couldn’t sleep with her snoring—but he had no compunction about stopping by when the mood struck him, or if he and the dance instructor had one of their spats. She cringed at the thought that she might have to explain a naked, male seer in her bed.
Although, really, it would serve him right.
“Hey.” She laid a hand on his chest. His skin felt cold. She kept her voice light, trying to smile. “Who’s Allie?”
She saw his expression change, just before he closed his eyes. She couldn’t help wondering though. A girlfriend? Did they even date?
Looking away, he shifted his weight on the mattress.
She caressed his hair. “Are you sick?”
He raised a hand, pushing hers off. She watched in disbelief as he wiped his face, doubting what she’d seen. Then his breathing changed, and she couldn’t deny what she heard. He was crying. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.
“Hey,” she said, a little alarmed. “What’s going on?”
When he spoke, his voice made her jump. She’d forgotten the accent.
“I’m married,” he said.
A surprised laugh caught in her throat. She tried to keep it out of her voice.
“So am I,” she said. “I thought that was the point.”
He looked at her. His pale eyes reflected light shining from under the door, almost like a cat’s eyes. Again, she remembered he wasn’t human. He stared back as if she were just as alien to him. Then he sat up. She watched him feel around on the floor for his pants, pulling them up over his legs and looping then hooking his belt. Standing, he found his shirt and drew it over his head, and now she felt emotion waver off him, clear as a scent. It was self-loathing.
She pulled the damp sheet tighter around herself. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
“Do you want money?” She recoiled in spite of herself, afraid of him once she saw the look in his eyes.
“No,” he said flatly. He didn’t look at her again.
Before she could think what to say next, he had bent down, picking up the shoulder harness that had shocked her when she had first seen it.
He donned it like a vest, velcroing it tight, checking the gun in obvious rote before shouldering on his jacket over it. She was still staring when he turned his back to her, aiming his feet for the door.
The light blinded her as he opened it onto the corridor... but it wasn’t open long.
Following the click of the latch, she lay back on the bed with a sigh. All she could feel was relief that he was gone, that she’d likely never see him again.
* * *
WHEN ELIAH FINISHED speaking, Chandre remained silent.
Eliah shared the construct with her, so he knew she was thinking to herself how ridiculous this was. Further, that it went beyond her job description as infiltrator to babysit two full-grown seers who, in her mind, should be alone in a cabin somewhere, getting acquainted in the carnal sense for at least a month before they were allowed to talk about their relationship in anything but monosyllables. That was the traditional way it was done, and the old forms existed for a reason.
Eliah kept the smile out of his light with an effort.
These two-hundred-year-old seers always groused about the past.
Is she all right? Chandre sent finally.
Well enough, yeah. He let her feel his frown. Threw up when she came to, and she won’t talk about it. Physically she’s fine. She’s out on the balcony—
