Page 3 of Seer Prophet

Then his eyes drifted down me.

He stared unapologetically for a few seconds, his pupils visibly dilating.

Tugging me closer with an insistent pull of his hand, he continued to stare, pain leaking around the edges of his light as he looked me over in the dress.

I watched his gaze linger on the short hem at the upper part of my thighs, then the above-the-knee boots I wore with heels a good two inches steeper than I’d worn even in my clubbiest and most fashion-victim-y phases in San Francisco. His eyes continued to travel up, pausing where I wore my long hair down in ringlets that cascaded down my bare back and shoulders.

He paused on the low neckline, and the pendant that hung in the exact right spot between the tops of my breasts. Reaching up with one hand, he finger-adjusted the emerald necklace that decorated my throat and collarbone.

And yes, that dress eyes directly to my bust.

That hadn’t exactly been an accident either.

“Trust me,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “They’re not even going to notice me with you in that outfit, wife.”

Pain bled off his skin in the kiss.

Blushing, I clicked at him softly as he raised his head.

I was about to say more, when a faint ping vibrated our Barrier construct, by someone who likely didn’t much care how either of us looked in our shiny new clothes.

Get going,Tarsi whispered in my head.Clock’s running, Bridge.

Glancing up at Revik, I saw him frown.

He’d heard her, too.

I suppose it should have reassured me, really, that our back-up team was still with us despite the high-grade security construct strangling this island paradise. Watching Revik glance around, I noted he didn’t look remotely reassured, either.

I could almost feel him looking for snipers.

It wasn’t his own skin he was worried about, I knew.

Sending him a reassuring pulse, I indicated down the pier with one hand, gesturing politely for him to lead the way.

He obligingly began to walk, still gripping my hand.

He kept me close?behind him, really?and shielded from the approaching buildings. He also tugged on my arm so that we walked tightly together.

Doing my best to manage the intense frequency of his light, I found myaleimimirroring the military mode of his. I kept my facial expression casual, borderline vacuous, but never once stopped scanning our surroundings as we walked.

Within seconds, I felt the edges of the next layer of the construct.

Not surprisingly, it lived at the end of the dock.

I stared at the city behind it.

It was so strange, seeing something so seemingly pre-apocalyptic. I knew that veneer was mostly an illusion, but it was jarring to look at.

Our shore excursions of late involved cities burnt half to the ground, most with no running water, no power apart from a few solar and gas generators, not enough medicine or food. Most were flooded, looted, even abandoned entirely. Some were overrun with gangs.

Nearly all were littered with mass graves and rotting corpses.

Some human survivors in those places were better organized than others. Some were better fortified, better equipped, better fed, better armed. Some had cooperative-type set ups happening, with communal farms, even some building projects underway.

Others had been more warlord-type arrangements with semi-permanent garrisons where they controlled pretty much everyone and everything inside their territory.

Generally speaking, the bigger the city, the more dangerous the area.

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