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  Loki frowned, as if thinking.

  “I saw some of the feed from India,” he said. “Aspects of the attack in New Delhi feel… similar… to what we are seeing here. It is difficult to say for certain, respected sister. This group does not appear to have any affiliations we had tracked previously, and we have not yet found a way to penetrate their constructs. There are many more humans in the group than seers, which in some ways makes this more difficult. The seers we have seen act primarily as body guards and Barrier protection. They clearly serve a symbolic purpose as well, as seers in their ‘rightful place,’ as children of the Nephilim.”

  Pausing briefly, he shrugged gracefully with a hand.

  “All leaders in the group appear to be human thus far, as well as approximately ninety to ninety-five percent of the foot soldiers we’ve encountered. We’ve seen no indication of any alliance between this Myther Cult and the Dreng seers. They killed the List humans because they claimed their souls were corrupted by a dark spirit… not because they were human.”

  There was another silence.

  The sick feeling in Jon’s chest crawled higher.

  “We need to know this soon,” Yumi said. “If they are taking over these bunkers, in addition to ancient cities, it indicates they are preparing for yet another surface attack. Perhaps a series of them. It also tells us they are foot soldiers of the Dreng… if a different type than those they had employed down here under Menlim. It is possible we are seeing a contingency of sorts. A failsafe plan, for if their first attempt to conquer the world failed.”

  Thinking about this, Jon felt the blood drain out of his face.

  If their endgame was to disappear into those bunkers Menlim built, that likely meant they planned to wipe out most of the surface of Earth.

  Swallowing, he fought the impulse to reach for Wreg.

  “Are there any more on your List?” Yumi said. “Did they get all of those you went there to find and acquire, brother Loki?”

  The Middle Eastern seer sighed heavily.

  “As far as we know, they did. There are no more here we know of, sister.”

  “And you have no way of retrieving any of those prisoners? Not without putting yourself and your company at risk of this group?”

  Loki rubbed his face with one hand, as if thinking.

  After a pause, he exhaled, looking back at them through the virtual projection.

  “We are vastly outnumbered here, sister,” he admitted, gazing back to his right and their left. His eyes shifted over the scene there, deadened-looking. “We can stay. We can look for an opening of some kind. But they seem intent on killing the List humans today––”

  “No,” Yumi broke in, firm. “No, brother Loki. It is far too late to be contemplating such heroics. We will not add to their army of enslaved brother and sister seers. What about List seers in the area? Are there any?”

  Again, Loki sighed. “There were only a few seers in this part of the world. One was working for a local militia. He is dead from the fighting. There were a few among the Dreng seers––”

  “And you already said, those are all dead,” she said, cutting him off. “So is that all of them on the Lists, brother Loki? Human and seer? Even those you had not yet targeted?”

  Loki nodded, his violet eyes suddenly looking even more tired.

  “Yes, respected sister,” he said. “I apologize if I was not clearer on this point. It definitely appears they have access to their own copy of the Lists. That is nearly certain now, given what we have seen, both in Dubai and now here, in Cairo.”

  Yumi glanced at Anale, then at Jon and Wreg.

  “Chandre,” she said simply.

  Jon felt that sickness in his chest worsen, but only nodded.

  Balidor and Allie had known about Chandre for nearly a year now. They’d strongly suspected her, at least, and had used her as a means of sending disinformation to Menlim the whole time Revik was residing inside the Forbidden City.

  They’d been watching her for months before she did what she did.

  Even so, they hadn’t been able to stop her.

  They should have seen it coming. All of them should have seen it coming. They should have been able to stop her, given what they knew––but they hadn’t stopped her.

  They’d even planned to take her into custody, right around the time Allie was working to bring down the network with Revik’s help, outside the Forbidden City.

  Chandre managed to evade them––then to take them by surprise and kill five of theirs, along with over a dozen humans, including the cabinet of what remained of the United States federal government. She’d near-fatally injured at least six more before she left that complex in Langley, taking the President of the now-defunct United States, Moira Brooks, with her.

  Shaking off the thought, Jon forced his mind back to the present.

  As he did, Yumi spoke up again.

  “Come back home, brother Loki,” she said. “Collect what intel you can on your way, but bring your people back to us. We have need of you here.”

  Her tone that time was gentle.

  Glancing at her, Jon looked back at Loki.

  That time, he saw what Yumi had seen and Jon himself had missed.

  Loki wasn’t doing so well. He wasn’t just in shock at what he’d seen. He looked overly pale, despite his tan. His light looked depleted. He looked either in the midst of, or on the verge of, a more serious depression.

  He looked like he felt powerless, gutted.

  Knowing Loki, it wasn’t only what he’d witnessed in Cairo or Dubai, but the loss of the List humans he’d been sent there to bring back. The loss of the children he’d been tasked to protect would hit him hard, Jon realized.

  Looking at his handsome face, Jon found himself thinking they’d only heard a fraction of what had actually happened over there.

  With all his being, he willed Loki to come home.

  In the same few seconds, Wreg reached for him, taking his hand firmly in his.

  8

  A NEW AGREEMENT

  HE SAT BY the bed, near my head. He held my hand, his clear eyes concentrated.

  His gaze never left the doctors, or my thigh, and whatever the doctors were doing to it. They’d numbed the area while they cleaned it, so I couldn’t feel much, but I saw Revik’s eyes flinch periodically, his mouth tighten in barely perceptible frowns.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him.

  He turned, looking at me.

  “It passed through,” I said, watching him study my face. “We can meet up later, if you have things to do.”

  His eyes flickered. I saw a glancing uncertainty.

  “Do you want me to go?” he said.

  Looking up at him, I was taken aback, conscious suddenly of how open he felt.

  “No,” I said, unthinking, still watching his clear eyes. “I was being polite.”

  A bare smile crossed his face, what might have been relief. Without speaking, he kissed my hand, winding his fingers more tightly into mine.

  Shifting his gaze, he went back to watching the doctors work over my leg, his gaze following their motions minutely.

  I watched him as he did, my stare unguarded since he wasn’t looking at me.

  I’m not sure what I was thinking in those minutes he watched the doctors patch me up. The main emotion I remember is confusion, mixed with what might have been wonder.

  I also couldn’t help being curious about what exactly he and my father had talked about.

  “I CAN WALK,” I assured him. “Really. It’s fine, Revik… I’ve been walking on it for the last four days, and it’s mostly numb now.”

  He frowned, but didn’t argue.

  I could tell from his light and his expression he wasn’t convinced, though. He stood back from the bed, eyes critical as I rested my weight on my good foot and leg before I tugged the remains of the dress down over my hips and pushed myself up to standing. I winced a bit when I put my weight on the bad leg, but no more than I had been for the p
ast few days.

  “What about a cane?” Revik said. “Would that help?”

  I laughed, looking at him.

  “How about your arm for now?” I countered.

  He stepped closer at once, as if he’d been holding himself back with an effort. Offering his arm, he stepped tightly to my side, so that I could lean on his body as well. Smiling in spite of myself, I hooked his arm with mine, gripping his forearm in my hand.

  “Where are we going?” I said, even as I took the first step, wincing a little in spite of myself.

  “You should rest,” he said. “Change. Shower… if you want.” He paused, frowning faintly, thinking. “I could leave you at my quarters. Leave you to get cleaned up. I’ll go find us food. Bring it back for both of us. For whenever you’re done.”

  I thought about this, nodding.

  It hit me, I was nervous to be alone with him.

  I was nervous as hell to talk to him, and he clearly wanted to talk.

  I also wanted to be alone with him.

  I wanted to talk to him, even without having any fucking idea what I wanted to say.

  Still thinking about this, I nodded again.

  “Do you know where my clothes are?” I said.

  There was a silence. Then he gripped my hand on his arm tighter, wrapping his other arm lightly around my waist. The contact sent a ripple through my light, briefly blanking my mind. I only caught his words on a few second’s delay.

  “…I’ll find them. I’ll do that first. Leave them inside the bathroom. Or wherever you want them. Then I’ll find us food.”

  Nodding, I fought to smile, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Thanks. That would be great.”

  He took me to his room.

  He spent a few minutes showing me things, things he didn’t really need to show me, but somehow neither of us stopped the tour anyway.

  He’d been bunked in a smaller version of the flag cabin, like where we’d both slept on the much larger American carrier where we’d been stationed before. This one came equipped with a queen bed, along with simple furniture, all of it bolted down or built into one of the bulkheads: a fold-up table, a fold-down vinyl padded bench, a desk, several seats that folded into the wall.

  It definitely lacked some of the luxuries of the American version, but something about that worked for me right then. I would have felt pretty weird staying somewhere overly luxurious, given what I’d been seeing on the outside over the past few months.

  Revik seemed to feel the same.

  In fact, he seemed uncomfortable with the amount of luxury the room represented, even now. He explained clumsily he hadn’t asked for it, but they hadn’t given him any choice, since that’s where they’d built the construct for him.

  He never told me if the room was meant for both of us.

  Knowing Wreg, who was in charge of security, it was meant for both of us.

  In fact, knowing Wreg, giving Revik the cabin was likely a message––at the very least, a clearing of the path.

  No one would ever accuse brother Wreg of being subtle.

  Revik showed me the shower, the hot water, towels, soap, shampoo.

  He didn’t look at me for any of it.

  He also didn’t seem to know how to leave.

  It wasn’t until I’d turned on the hot water and started reaching for the straps of the dress I wore that he backed hastily out of the shower cubicle, muttering about how he’d be back.

  I heard the door to the cabin shut seconds later.

  The shower was heavenly. It also gave me a chance to really look at what a mess I was, for the first time since I’d left London. I found myself wondering if that was the last time I’d taken a shower as well, and realized it probably was.

  Layers of dirt and river bilge sloughed off me once I stepped under the hot water. The only part of me that was clean was the area the medical techs cleaned when they applied the organic bandage to my leg. I think I shampooed my hair four times before it felt clean enough to stop.

  When I finally came out about forty minutes later, wrapped in a towel, I found the cabin still empty of Revik. He’d clearly been back at least once, since I found a very familiar-looking bag of clothes on the floor just outside the door of the shower cubicle.

  After rifling through the bag for a few minutes, I settled on simple: underwear, a bra, black combat pants, a green stretchy T-shirt, no make-up. I sat on the fold-down bench and was combing out my wet hair after using the towel to rub off as much of the excess water as I could.

  I’d just more or less finished when there was a knock at the door.

  Frowning slightly, I tossed the comb at my bag, then walked to the door, rather than summoning whoever it was. Gripping the handle, I opened it, and found myself looking at Revik, who balanced a tray in one hand, holding a bag of something in the other.

  Stepping out of the way and pulling the door with me, I frowned in puzzlement, but not where he could see it. As I did, the reality of what just happened struck me again.

  He’d knocked.

  He’d knocked on the door.

  I couldn’t remember a time––ever––he’d knocked on a door I was on the other side of, not even back when we first met. I remembered giving him shit about that back when we shared our first room, that cabin on the ship up the coast of North America.

  I didn’t say anything, though, I just followed him as he walked over to the table, setting down the tray and the bag of whatever it was. When he opened the bag, steam came out, and I smelled what smelled like fresh bread, maybe even––

  “Are those… bagels?” I said in disbelief.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me, nodding. “They found bags of them in the freezer. Apparently someone on here was a fan.”

  My stomach growled as I watched him pull off the top of the tray, showing a bowl of scrambled eggs, two plates, cream cheese, grilled mushrooms, tomatoes and sausages, a small stick of butter, cream, sugar. Two capped mugs sat on the other edge of the tray. They had to be coffee from the smell, which somehow made it through the cardboard tops.

  “Gaos,” I said, as my stomach grumbled again. “This is jurekil’a food porn.”

  Revik let out a startled-sounding laugh.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled faintly, that smile even more prominent in his eyes as he motioned me to the fold-down seat nearest to where I stood.

  I sat across from where he stood, still feeling strange.

  I tried to decide if I should comment on the strangeness, if only to assure him he didn’t have to do all of this––find my clothes, give me his quarters, knock on his own door, bring me fresh coffee and bagels and cream cheese. I couldn’t find the words, though, not without making things more awkward.

  I also didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

  He pulled down the seat across the table from me, and sat.

  Handing me one of the coffees, he peered into the bag, pulling out a bagel that was obviously hot from the way he held it. Setting it on the top plate, he filled the plate with eggs, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, sausage, cream cheese, then handed it to me.

  I took it, still feeling at a loss.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Revik, you don’t have to do all this––”

  “I know.”

  He looked up in a flickering glance, then went back to filling his own plate, his cheeks coloring slightly as he shrugged.

  “I want to, Allie. It’s not a trouble.” Giving me a faint smile, he nodded towards my plate, his German accent prominent. “Eat your food porn. Before it gets cold.”

  Snorting, I picked up my fork, scooping up a mouthful of eggs.

  They weren’t powdered, like I’d expected. They tasted like real eggs.

  I closed my eyes briefly, partly in disbelief.

  “Damn,” I said, clicking softly as I picked up my coffee.

  Revik laughed, cutting up sausage with what looked like a steak knife.

  We didn’t talk while we ate. I started to wonder if I�
�d been wrong, if Revik didn’t want to talk after all––not now, anyway. Maybe he wanted to sleep first, try and normalize things between us to a degree, or just get used to being around each other’s light.

  That, or neither of us knew how to begin.

  Either way, it wasn’t long before I’d mostly dusted off my plate.

  I leaned back in the fold-down seat, still picking at mushrooms and sausage periodically with my fork while sipping the second half of my coffee.

  He’d finished before me, and was leaning back in his own seat, also drinking coffee.

  I thought about asking him about a nap… when he broke the silence.

  “I do want to talk to you, Allie.” He hesitated, gauging my eyes. “Would you rather wait until after you’ve slept?”

  I felt myself coloring at the seriousness in his eyes.

  I hadn’t seen him look at me quite like that in a long time. Maybe never. It wasn’t only the openness I still sensed there, or the difference I could feel in both of our lights overall. There was something else there, too.

  I couldn’t make up my mind what it was.

  A decision maybe? Maybe a resolve.

  “I talked to your father,” he said, before I’d fully wrapped my head around what I could see and feel on him. “I hope you don’t mind. He offered it, but in all honesty, I welcomed it. I needed it. I needed his advice.”

  I watched him, not quite holding my breath, but definitely waiting. I was nervous again, but truthfully, I had no idea why.

  Exhaling, he combed his fingers through his hair, setting his coffee mug down on the table.

  He didn’t speak though, and when the silence stretched, I shifted in my chair.

  “What did you talk to him about?” I said finally, when he didn’t go on.

  He glanced at me, and I was struck again by the light I could see in his crystal-like eyes.

  They really did look different.

  I was still lost there as he answered me.

  “I asked him how to save my marriage,” he said, his voice and eyes frank.