Allie's War Season Four by JC Andrijeski Page B

from Revik’s face when he saw those clear eyes slide back in his direction.
    “Jon,” Revik said, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry about last night.”
    Jon flinched. He felt his face grow hot, too, without being able to do a damned thing about it. Taking a breath, he forced himself to relax, clicking softly. Shaking his head, Jon glanced at the other man, only to quickly avert his eyes.
    “Forget it. Nothing happened.”
    There was a silence. Seers continued to work over Jon, tugging at straps and placing electrodes on him. All of them pretended not to notice when Revik spoke again.
    “Did you tell Wreg?” he said, his voice as flat as before.
    Feeling his face heat up more, Jon shook his head. “No.”
    Pretending he hadn’t noticed the other seers’ stares, Jon resettled his head on the cushioned headrest of the recliner, staring up at the ceiling. Jorag continued attaching electrodes to his temples and chest, opening the front of his shirt as he and Illeg felt over his skin. Noticing the inscrutable looks that had come over both seers’ faces at Revik’s words, Jon frowned, glancing around the rest of the room.
    Thank the gods, he didn’t see Wreg anywhere.
    Jorag chuckled, patting him affectionately on the shoulder.
    “Boss isn’t stupid, little brother,” Jorag told him softly, leaning down by Jon’s ear.
    Jon didn’t answer that, either, but felt his jaw harden more.
    Illeg and Jorag finished wrapping the same type of organic bands around him that Loki and Gar had already put around Revik, and Jon winced a little at the touch of the slick and cold skins. Like with most organics, they felt like they should be wet, but were dry to the touch, like the skin of an amphibian, or some breeds of snake. A jolt of a different kind of pain expanded over Jon’s light when hands continued to feel over his body.
    That time, it caught him off-guard.
    Jon gritted his teeth, trying to pull it back, even as Jorag and Illeg hesitated, glancing at one another that time, their fingers hovering over his bare chest and abdomen.
    When Jon wouldn’t look at either of them, they continued their work.
    In those same few seconds, Jon felt a harder pulse of anger.
    Turning his head, Jon looked over his own shoulder. He saw Wreg standing there that time, his obsidian eyes as hard and dense as their color implied. Wreg looked away at Jon’s frown, but his massive shoulders didn’t relax, and his expression continued to look so warlike that Jon almost didn’t recognize the man he knew underneath. Enough pain and anger stood there that Jon couldn’t look at him for very long, either, though.
    He didn’t miss the harder look Wreg aimed at Jorag, though.
    Gods, Jon couldn’t help thinking. Jorag better be right.
    It occurred to him in the same breath that both Revik and Jorag spoke aloud so that Wreg wouldn’t overhear them in the Barrier construct they all shared.
    Focusing deliberately back on the plaster-covered ceiling, Jon bit the inside of his cheek as he fought to distract himself, too. His eyes fell on iron sconces holding white candles, likely recreations from the original style, back at the turn of the previous century. Jon knew most of the houses on the Square had been refurbished at some point in the 1990’s to restore them to their original condition...some campaign by the politicos to increase property values.
    Mostly all it did was change the demographics of the city.
    “You know what you’re doing here,” Revik said to him, jerking Jon’s mind back to the present.
    Jon stared at him. Revik’s words didn’t sound much like a question, which also constituted the norm for his brother-in-law lately. Everything that came out of Revik’s mouth phrased itself closer to a demand, like anything but an unequivocal ‘yes’ simply wasn’t acceptable.
    Jon hoped he did. Know, that is.
    “Yes,” he said, meeting that colorless gaze.
    “Follow my lead,” Revik said.
    Jon nodded, realizing only then that Revik