2

DANCE

THE QUESTION AND answer period seemed to go on for hours, but according to ‘Dori and Vash, it ended after about twenty minutes. 

Afterwards, I gave myself time to catch up with what I’d just done...to try and gauge the worst of the fallout as best as I could. 

Letting my mind regurgitate some of the choice phrases out of the several rounds of increasingly aggressive questions, I leaned against a cement support beam and groaned, eyes closed.

“Let it go, Bridge Alyson...” Garensche advised. 

“I may not be able to.”

“It is over now,” he said. “You are the leader. They see that. They are yelling at you...but it is because you are the leader. That was your job tonight. Nothing more.”

I nodded, trying to let his words sink in...or at least keep the frown off my lips. I almost asked him about the other thing, too, then let the question fall in somewhere with my replay of the word riot earlier.

He answered it anyway.

“Yes, I heard,” he said. “We all heard...he wanted us to hear.”

I nodded. “So it was a threat, then.”

“No.” He smiled. “I would not say that...not to you, anyway.”

I fought the impulse to fidget with my hair, knowing I would only make a mess of the elaborate and meticulously-placed curls that Cass and the other girl whose name I couldn’t remember had sprayed, arranged and pinned up on my head with a number of jeweled fasteners.

When I glanced up, I saw Garensche looking at my hair too. 

Seeing me catch his appraising look, he smiled.  

“Do not worry, ilya,” he said, using an affectionate term I still hadn’t figured out the meaning of, or even from which language it originated. “We are looking for him...but I do not think he is here. Everything is on feeds, and he can feel you, through the bond. He does not need to be here. He is not so stupid...”

I exhaled, a sharp laugh. “Yeah. Not stupid.”

“So no worries, then,” the giant smiled.

“No worries. Okay.”

I looked up at the clock on the wall, avoiding Balidor’s stare from a dozen feet away. I met Chandre’s though, saw her looking at me warily from under the other set of eaves. I knew she was worried about me, but she was also angry I had come. I also wondered what she thought of the whole issue with Revik, given everything.

I knew she’d been along for the op in D.C.

We hadn’t talked about it, but it formed a wedge between us that I still just couldn’t seem to get past. On some level, I knew it was irrational...but I couldn’t get past the vision of her in a room with him and a bunch of other infiltrators, planning how they were going to use my husband as bait by having him fuck a room full of seers and humans, just so the boy would bring me to him.

I just couldn’t let it go. I’m funny that way.

At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would have forgiven her by now, if things had turned out differently in the end.

Still, at least Jon had tried to talk him out of it.

When I glanced back at Garensche, I caught him staring again, too, this time looking me over in the green dress. I felt a glimmer of arousal off him, but nothing major.

I didn’t take it personally.

Seers had a tendency to be tactless, anyway...and crude about sex. Most of the time, it meant nothing. If Garensche really wanted sex with me, he’d just ask.

That was the other thing about seers...they were direct, for the most part.

Besides, I knew the only reason I was getting more male attention than usual these days was purely from the pain thing. Like all seers, I sent out a kind of energetic pulse when forced to go without sex for too long. Marriage, instead of making this better, amplified the problem...making it exponentially worse. The logic being, I supposed, that spouses tended to miss one another a lot more than single seers missed sex with strangers...or even friends.

Therefore, given my situation with Revik, I was likely broadcasting vibes that acted like porno catnip on your average seer with an even semi-healthy libido.

Pretty hard to take any attention that came of that personally.

“So what now?” I said. “...Do I mingle?”

Garensche glanced up, shrugged.

“Some mingle, yes. ‘Dori thinks it’s okay. We’ve sealed the perimeter, the construct is good...and the seers here, the hotel ones, they all check out.”

I nodded. That time I kept my thoughts to myself behind a tighter shield.

“Where’s Dorje?” I said. “Cass?”

Garensche motioned with a thick hand towards the curtain, indicating the ballroom on the other side. I could still hear the rise and fall of voices like an ocean current, but I purposefully didn’t listen with either my light or my ears. Music now accompanied the voices at least. 

I didn’t need to know what they were saying, not yet. I could watch the feeds tomorrow, if I was really feeling like a masochist.

“Okay,” I said. I gestured towards the opening in the curtain, giving Garensche the polite form, as if our roles were reversed.

“...Lead the way.”

A grin split his face, stretching his full lips, making his teeth appear even longer and whiter than they were. His hazel eyes shone out over high cheekbones, light only because his skin was so dark. He might have been handsome once, if it weren’t for the thick scar that now ran from his ear through one dark eyebrow. Now he looked like a pirate.

I’d teased him and Cass that they looked like they’d been cell mates. 

I could tease Cass about that kind of thing now. She’d grown as crude as the majority of infiltrators in her banter, and seemed to wear the facial scar she’d received during her captivity with Terian with a certain perverse pride. Less than a year ago, she’d flinched whenever anyone even looked at it, so I couldn’t help but see this as an improvement. Even so, the ease with which she’d fallen in with some elements of the seer community still made me uncomfortable. 

Just like in the human world, her taste in men still left a lot to be desired.

The thought made me laugh a little, in spite of myself.

Look at me, throwing stones.

Still, she’d changed so much in the past year it was difficult to even remember what she’d been like in San Francisco...where we’d known each other since diapers. Cass and Jon and I had been best friends before all of this started, when I still thought I was human and seers were a mysterious Other.

I followed Garensche out to the main floor, and immediately regretted it.

I’ve never been crazy about how much I stand out in a crowd. I’d been what Jon affectionately termed a “weirdo-magnet” for most of my life, since I was a kid, really. But the truth was, I confused people...and in some odd way, I stood out. The weirdos took it as a sign from God. Other, more normal humans, assumed there was something about me that needed to be catalogued, if only so that it could be dismissed. In any case, I’d always gotten a lot more attention than I asked for, and a lot of it not overly positive.

Standing beside the enormous seer mitigated my nerves around that only slightly. I watched trays of champagne float by, tempted, then decided getting drunk wasn’t a luxury I could afford, either.

The room had transformed in my absence.

Seers and humans working for the hotel cleared away or pushed back the table rounds. The floor’s carpet and dance floor had been revealed, and the ornate stage looked more like something from Paris without the podium and the bright white lights.

Surprisingly, most of the press seemed to have stuck around, along with the leaders. They had received strict instructions about not approaching me to seek quotes or attempt interviews at any time other than the designated question and answer periods...or through Hallaf, who I’d recruited to act as a sort of quasi-official press secretary. Even so, a number of them lurked nearby, and from the look in their eyes, I could tell a few of them at least were trying to think of ways around the ban that wouldn’t get them thrown out.

I recognized several of the state leaders, as well.

The room had touches of Delhi, despite the Western feel of the crowd...or touches of India, I should say. Servants dressed in white walked around carrying trays, and the buffet table dishes consisted of so many colors that it looked like abstract art. The table itself stood beside a pair of giant glass sculptures that rose like crystal waterfalls, halfway to the high ceilings. Dominating the further end of the room, a wall fountain stretched up several stories as well. A black, glinting, stone carving made up its centerpiece, depicting Vishnu and several of his serving maids under the water.

Below it, a long bar took up the lower section of the room, where the remainder of the reporters stretched out in an uneven line, many of them looking vaguely uncomfortable in their tuxes.

Picking up a smattering of their thoughts and words through the construct, I frowned, suddenly wanting nothing more than for the night to be over.

The next time a tray slid by, I lifted a champagne flute off one side, taking a sip before glancing up at Garensche.

“Just one,” I muttered, to his faint smile.

Even as I did, I caught the eye of a woman reporter who was staring at me unapologetically. I stiffened, realizing I knew her.

Donna. Her name was Donna.

The last time I’d seen her in the flesh, I’d been sitting on a couch in the Oval Office, a collar around my neck and wearing a ridiculously revealing sundress. Covered in bruises, I’d had to sit there with Terian’s arm around me while she asked questions about my sex life and wanted me to expound on the joys of being an international terrorist.

She’d then proceeded to flirt with Terian while she pressed me about my relationship with my husband...knowing full well that Terian was likely raping me behind closed doors.

Looking at her now, I felt my jaw harden painfully.

“Would you like to dance, Bridge Alyson?”

I started. Turning, I saw Garensche watching me narrowly.

“She’s not worth it,” he breathed, softer.

He held out an arm, smiling, the warning still in his eyes.

“Dance with me, Bridge.” He smiled again. “...If that dress wasn’t made for dancing, I don’t know what it was made for.” He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow, then gave a pointed glance to my cleavage. “...Although I’m open to suggestions,” he said, grinning a little.

Pausing as I was about to take another sip of the champagne, I gave him a disbelieving look, then laughed.

“Subtle,” I said. “You seers have a pretty loose definition of the word ‘deference,’ don’t you?”

“Oh, I’ll most certainly defer to you, Bridge Alyson.” He smiled, holding out his arm more insistently. “Come on. You can dance, can’t you?”

“Sure,” I said. “What the hell. Give them something to talk about. Something besides the speech that went over like a ton of rocks, I mean...”

“You think a dancing Bridge will amuse them?”

“My actual dancing might,” I said, shrugging as I let him lead me out to the darker linoleum floor.

But I could dance okay.

It was something mom and I used to do, back when I was trying anything to keep her sober after dad’s death. I took her to ballroom dancing at the Y for about a year, and both of us got pretty good at it. My mom had been surprisingly graceful...well, to me, her daughter. I don’t suppose it was all that surprising, really. She’d been a ballet dancer when she’d been young.

Setting down the champagne, which may have been Garensche’s true motive in asking me, I took his offered hand, and laughed when he pulled me to him.

He moved with surprising grace for his size...and he knew the steps.

Then I remembered. He was a seer. He probably did this a few hundred years ago, when it was the height of modern fashion.

I laughed to myself as he steered me sideways, forcing me to follow his leg before he brought me with him on a turn.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Something is again amusing, Bridge Alyson?”

I shook my head, still smiling a little. “No.” I paused. “Thanks,” I added. “I do feel better.”

He smiled more genuinely. “Dancing is always one cure.”

“What’s the other?” I grinned, knowing the answer.

His smile turned slightly more mischievous.

He stepped longer, forcing me to make a real stride in the heels and the dress, and then pivoted me to the right. He pulled me closer briefly, then turned with me again...

...when someone else took my hand, sliding smoothly into his place. My whole body stiffened...even before he pulled me tight against him.

Even before I heard his voice.

“You don’t mind, do you, brother?” he said to Garensche.

I craned my neck, looking over my shoulder at the Adhipan giant.

Even if I hadn’t already known who held me, the other seer’s eyes told me more than I needed. The less bulky arm tightened around my body, long fingers caressing the bare skin of my lower back, most of which lay exposed by the dress. He pressed deeper into me and I sucked in a breath in spite of myself.

Reluctantly, I looked up.

Pale eyes met mine in a face I knew so well it shocked me.

He hadn’t even bothered to come in disguise.

I could only stare at him, seeing the scrutiny in his expression, the faint smile on his narrow mouth. His eyes didn’t mirror the smile though. Neither did the fingers that tightened on my back. He looked impossibly tall to me suddenly, although I knew I’d grown more than an inch since the last time I’d seen him in the flesh. Despite the angular face, he’d filled out some since I’d last seen him, too. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him with his shoulders so broad, not even in the Barrier. He looked like he’d been lifting weights.

I looked back at Garensche, feeling oddly helpless.

It hit me then...I was afraid for him.

“Don’t be, love,” he murmured. Pain slivered through his light, even as it occurred to me that he was already hard where he pressed against me. His fingers caressed my back. “...You know me. I came prepared.”

Feeling me stiffen, he clutched me tighter.

“Don’t worry. I would never put you in danger, dearest...”

His lips brushed my temple, but his eyes continued to stare out over the ballroom...where I had no doubt that a larger commotion was already brewing. It occurred to me I should be able to hear it from the Barrier, but Revik held me so close all I could feel was him. It crossed my mind that he may have pulled me into some space of his own, too.

I still couldn’t manage to make myself speak.

Still, my feet followed his. I danced with him...for the first time in my life.

It struck me that if someone had told me a year ago that he could dance, I might not have believed them. At the very least, I would have found the idea funny.

And yet, it didn’t seem funny then.

His feet moved even easier than Garensche’s, but somehow with more weight behind his steps as he leaned into me. The same grace I’d seen on him when he fought hand-to-hand remained with him as he steered me through the space between several other couples. It struck me that he was making his way to the hallway on the other side of the marble floor...even as I found myself mirroring his steps, seemingly from another part of my mind altogether. I felt him reacting to my nearness too, and more than just in the physical.

I also felt him watching me minutely, studying my face with steady eyes.

I was trying again to speak, to form words...

...when Balidor appeared at my elbow, standing on the edge of the carpet, and between the two of us and the hallway. I felt more than saw the others with him...Chandre, Garensche again, Dorje, Cass, as well as that Wvercian I always saw with Cass these days, Baguen.

I stared up at Revik, then looked at Balidor.

I couldn’t see it, but I felt the gun. An organic, I knew it coiled around Balidor’s wrist, out of sight.

“Let her go,” he said. He spoke low, between clenched teeth. “Now. Back away from her, Dehgoies, and we’ll let you leave in peace...”

Revik took his eyes off me. He smiled at the Adhipan leader, but his eyes flashed with a coldness that made me flinch.

“I’d like to have a word with my wife,” he said. “Do you mind?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Balidor said. “Step back. I mean it.”

Revik’s eyes narrowed. “Really.” His gaze flickered upwards, as if scanning the balconies above the main floor. “You think this is a good idea, Balidor? Taking me on in here...in front of all these people...when you have absolutely no idea what I’ve brought with me?”

He paused, his eyes shifting back to the older seer.

“...Or whether I might crack your spine in half, for interrupting a private conversation with my wife?”

Balidor didn’t flinch. Not visibly anyway.

“Let her go,” he said. “You’ve made your point. We have four on you now...how many of us do you think you can take down simultaneously?”

Revik’s gaze grew colder still. “More than you might think.” He pulled me tighter against him, so that I lost even more of my breath, and glanced at my face. “Gods. I sincerely hope you aren’t fucking this prick.” His gaze leveled on Balidor’s. “...You aren’t,” he said to me, softer, without taking his eyes off the other male. “...are you, Alyson?”

“Revik,” I breathed. “...please. What are you doing?”

“I want to talk to you,” he said, his focus still on Balidor. “Tell your guard dogs to go away...would you, love?”

“I told you,” Balidor said. “...that’s not going to happen.”

“Allie?” Revik said. “I’d really rather not break the promise I made to myself. About not killing any of your friends...”

I looked up at this, but he didn’t return my gaze. I knew the look in his eyes though, recognized it from the boy who’d once held the more dangerous parts of him in a different body. Sliding a hand lower, I caressed his thigh deliberately through the tuxedo pants he wore...until I saw his eyes close.

He looked at me then. His eyes didn’t soften exactly, but something in them de-charged as I watched.

I looked at Balidor. “It’s all right,” I said. “He won’t hurt me.”

“Allie...no!” Balidor growled. “Absolutely not!”

“I’ll be all right.” I glanced up at Revik. “Won’t I?”

He pressed against me again. “I can’t promise no marks at all, love...” His focus returned to the Adhipan leader. “But nothing permanent.”

“Allie!” Balidor waited for me to turn. “Hurting you might not be his plan. He might intend to leave here with you...”

Revik shook his head, once. “Not until she asks me.” His eyes closed again, briefly. “And she will ask me,” he said, softer, nuzzling my face. “One of these days. Won’t you, Allie?”

Swallowing, I looked only at Balidor.

“It’s all right,” I said, quieter. “Please. Don’t do this. Not here.”

“Allie, if he takes you—”

“He won’t.”

Balidor looked at him, then at me. I could see it on his face; he didn’t believe Revik for a second. For that matter, I wasn’t sure I did, but I couldn’t deal with the thought of a shooting match breaking out here, with all these people and a few dozen in the press to document all of it.

I knew Revik. He wouldn’t have come unless he had at least a few contingencies in place. He wouldn’t have walked out onto the ballroom floor without a very clear idea of how he would walk off...or what he would do if Balidor refused to back down.

I knew this about him. Despite everything else, that wouldn’t have changed.

Looking at Balidor, I saw him read some part of this, whether in my eyes or somewhere from the edges of my mind.

“Please,” I repeated. “Just let me go with him. I’ll come back.”

“Here,” Revik said. Pulling a gun out of his jacket, he flipped it neatly in his hand, passing it to me, handle first. “I’ll let her have this, if it eases your mind, Balidor. She’ll call if she needs more. Fair enough?” He bent down, kissing my throat, putting enough light in his tongue that my vision slanted briefly.

“Now fuck off...” he murmured, looking at Balidor again.

Balidor didn’t move though, and I continued to watch him, worried about what he might do.

But the Adhipan leader’s worry seemed equally focused on me.

“Allie,” he murmured. His gray eyes were on mine. “Please...don’t. For the love of the gods, don’t...even if he doesn’t take you.”

“‘Allie?’” Revik said, mimicking the other seer’s voice as he raised his head. “...‘Allie, please...?’” Humor stood out in his words, but I heard the hardness underneath. “I have to say, brother Balidor...could you be a little less informal with my wife? At least when I’m standing right here?”

I tugged on his hand. “Please...Revik. Let’s just go.”

He glanced at me again. Gripping my hand tighter, he took a step to the side, pulling me with him as he began to walk around Balidor and Garensche, giving a short nod to Dorje as he passed. He winked at Cass when we reached her and Baguen, favoring her with a narrow smile.

“I like the tat,” he said, nodding to her upper arm as we passed.

Cass glanced down at the blue and white mark of the sword and sun, visible above the lines of her red, strapless dress. I saw her struggle with a reply as he chuckled, leading me past her...and then something in her eyes grew almost conflicted.

I saw that look on her face, and feared it almost.

I knew they’d been close from the Terian thing. I also knew she spent most of her time these days with seers that Revik was likely already halfway on the road to recruiting.

But I couldn’t think about that, either.

He wove us through the remnants of the crowd between the dance floor and the hallway beyond. I saw faces watching us, but none of them were human apart from Cass. Not a single person in the human media gave us so much as a glance, which told me either he was pushing them himself, or someone on my side or his was doing it for him.

I glimpsed us in the giant hallway mirror as we left the ballroom.

My throat closed when I saw him leading me by the hand in a tux, me following in a jade green dress that looked like something out of a period movie, but for the low back with the single glittering strap across the middle.

It took me another moment to realize what bothered me so much about the image. It was how I’d once imagined we might look together, someday.

The thought caught in my throat until I purposefully blanked out my mind.

A kind of dread lived in me at the thought of being alone with him, but even that wasn’t uncomplicated. I knew it was an illusion of course...like going home with the guy who looked just like the ex-boyfriend who left you on the altar.

I couldn’t really have him, but I knew a large part of me didn’t care about that, either.

That part of me would take whatever I could get.