Page 148 of Seer Prophet

He shook his head. “I know very little. Nothing, really.”

His fingers found hers once more, cautiously, when she rested her hands in her lap. She looked down at where he wound his hand around one of hers. He felt heat in her light, and his pain came back stronger, especially now that his body felt less weak. A rush of feeling and desire clenched in a hard ball in his chest, making it briefly difficult to breathe. He knew if he’d been in better shape physically, he would likely be trying to do a lot more than hold her hand. As it was, he forced himself to just lie there.

He watched her look at their entwined fingers.

After another long-feeling pause, she let out a sigh.

He felt enough surrender in that exhale that his pain sharpened.

“So what now?” she asked.

As if still thinking somewhere in the background, she let out a low chuckle.

“I’m thinking about sex. I’m pretty sure you’re thinking about sex.” She glanced at his bare chest, reddening. The look on her face made his pain spike. “Is this a seer thing? To want to get down and dirty this bad with a complete stranger? I mean. This is weird, right? That I literallycan’tkeep my hands off you?”

His face heated more.

When he remained silent, she didn’t let him off the hook.

“So what is this thing?” she pressed, a little sharper. “Is this a crush? The seer version?”

He thought about her words.

Slowly, he nodded, conceding her meaning reluctantly.

Some part of him didn’t want it reduced to a “thing” of any kind, but he couldn’t deny the more general truth to what she’d said.

He was still trying to decide what to say to her, when she released his hand. He was about to protest, or maybe try to explain this to her in some way, at least how he saw it, when she leaned over him on the bed. Propping her hands on the pillow, just above his shoulders and to either side of his head, she looked down into his eyes.

With their faces only a few inches apart, she frowned, studying his expression.

“Tell me something about you,” she said.

It sounded more like a command than a request.

“I was born in Afghanistan,” he said at once. Feeling his face warm at the ridiculousness of his response, he forced a seer’s shrug, not quite meeting her eyes. “I am an infiltrator. A soldier. I work for the Sword. Through him, the Bridge.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She blew up at her rough-cut bangs in impatience, getting them out of her eyes. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No, cousin.”

“Why do you call me cousin?”

“Because you are human. I am seer.”

That thoughtful look still in her eyes, she nodded. He could feel she’d half-expected that answer, but wanted it confirmed.

Adjusting her weight on her hands, she focused back on his face. Her cheeks turned pinker, but he felt her resolve underneath, her wanting to know. Hoping it might help her, he made his light more submissive, more open to hers.

It worsened his pain almost at once.

It also caused him to shift under her on the bed.

“Do seers actually date?” she asked. “Or do you just screw around, like all the feeds say?”

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