Or painted on her, perhaps.
The woman smiled, and the smile drew me like a caress.
“Can I help you, friend?”
I glanced at Revik. No wonder he wanted to come here.
He remained outside the circle of light, but I felt his fingers relax slightly when the woman appeared. Turning away from the relief I could see on his face, I looked past her, glimpsing a wider space with more people, but her eyes must have followed mine back to him.
“Revi’!” The violet eyes widened, all trace of coyness gone. “Gods, Revi’! What happened to you?”
Before I could say a word, she stepped forward, not moving me aside so much as sliding into the gap between me and Revik and circling his waist with her arm. She took him for me before it occurred to me to protest, and led him through the doorway. I found myself just standing there, strangely light without him to prop up, but not really relieved, either.
Then another pair of hands dragged me in after the two of them, swinging shut the door.
More people rose from chairs, their faces showing different amounts of surprise. None spoke...aloud anyway. Looking around at all of them without really seeing them, I glimpsed satin dresses and long jackets, faces heavy with make-up with a variety of skin tones and hair textures. The first woman I’d seen appeared to be in charge. She gestured with her free hand to the others, speaking an odd mix of accented English and a language I didn’t know.
“Mira, lock the door! Il’letre ar enge. Ivy, set up the room, yes, ugnete...make sure Sharin knows, and tell her to let the last one out the back...”
The woman with the long red hair stood at a decent height, maybe five-nine, but still looked small where she supported Revik with her shoulder. I saw her caress his back with a ring-adorned hand and felt more than that pass between them.
“That was you on the news!” she said, looking up at him. “I should have known...they intimated terrorism. But we didn't expect you so soon.” As if remembering, she looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes glowed briefly, taking me in.
“Is this her?”
Revik glanced at me, too. Then he turned away, speaking only to her, using that other language, interspersing his words with a series of clicks.
“Arente ar mulens, sarten,” he said softly. He glanced at me again. “Il en, yet. Igre ar ulen. Bridge,” he added.
The woman stared at me. “Ar li ente u?”
“Ur et estarn. Alyson...ut te Allie.”
The woman looked at me more intently. Her irises blurred just enough that I suspected she was reading my mind. I saw Revik nod to her perceptibly a few seconds later. He gestured fluidly with one hand, ending on a downward slash.
I stood there, arms folded, fighting back emotion that felt more and more like anger. My eyes found his fingers entangled in the woman’s dark red hair, caressing the bare skin of her neck and shoulder.
A pulse of warmth reached me.
I jumped, my face hotter when I realized who had sent it. Then it hit me. He had access to his abilities again.
He met my gaze. Ullysa has a construct on this place. It will keep us hidden from the Barrier proper. We are safe here...for now.
Ullysa made a soft clicking sound that held a trace of amazement, drawing my eyes.
“She is young, Revi',” she said. “I pictured an old man from the Elders’ impressions. Is she trained at all?”
Revik made another of those downward slashing motions.
No, he translated for me.
Ullysa looked up at Revik’s face. “And how did they find you? We were told you got away from San Francisco cleanly.”
“It was my mistake—” Revik began.
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”
Ullysa looked at me in surprise.
Her expression suddenly grew much harder for me to read. She bowed politely as I thought it, indicating around the room with her free hand. I couldn’t help but notice her other hand was now under the sweatshirt Revik wore, caressing his bare back.
Realizing I was staring, I looked away, folding my arms tighter.
“Wait here, please,” she said politely. “...Esteemed Bridge.”
I held up my hands, not hiding my annoyance. “Sure thing.”
She left the room with Revik, whose eyes I avoided, only to meet other stares aimed at me from different parts of the room. Shrugging deliberately, I plopped down on one of the plush chairs. A number of seers had risen to stare at me. Most of those stares felt mainly curious, but I felt hostility there, as well. Maybe I was too tired to be afraid, or too angry, or too stupid, but I avoided looking at any of them, even to smooth over the silence.
Eventually, though, I met one woman’s gaze in particular. Her eyes were predatory, but beneath that, I felt a lot of anger.
Great. This woman actually felt dangerous.