by Nalini Singh
“Exhausted.” A single flat word. “The Honeycomb is taking more and more of their energy to maintain—we don’t want to wipe them out when we need them so badly.”
The deadly cardinal crouched down beside one of the fallen. “This isn’t the same as the previous outbreaks—many of those individuals attacked others, but here, all the violence was self-directed. Not only that; they confined the violence to their heads, almost as if they were trying to tear an intruder from their brains.”
Ethan focused on the individual injuries, saw Krychek was correct. People hadn’t only gouged at their own eyes; they’d pulled out chunks of their hair and, in one gruesome case, shoved a sharp implement through one ear. “Have you checked the PsyNet?”
“Nothing, no indication of infection.”
A kind of itch at the back of his brain, Ethan looked around until he saw a familiar face. Abbot, he telepathed, which area of the PsyNet correlates to this location? He didn’t recognize the buildings, and the people around him were a mix of ethnicities, nothing in their features or clothing to nudge him toward a particular zone.
We’re in Hamburg, the other man responded, his blue eyes vivid even from this distance. Sector 17. I’ll ’path you a map—but there’s nothing to see there.
Despite that confirmation of Krychek’s cold statement, Ethan waited only until he had the map to enter the area of the PsyNet that corresponded to this location. What he saw had him scrambling: Aden, Krychek, the PsyNet here is crawling with parasites. How had the two missed this?
Two brilliant minds appeared beside his.
“I see nothing,” Aden said. “What do you see?”
“I’ll send you an image.” Ethan telepathed what he saw to both men, realizing too late that maybe there was nothing to see, and he was imagining the tiny glowing creatures with multiple feet that crawled all over the minds in this area. The power surges hadn’t stopped. It was possible the Scarab power was free and he was hallucinating.
His stomach clenched as he waited for the two others to tell him his telepathed image was blank of anything relevant. But Krychek’s midnight voice said, “That is disturbing. Can you safely capture one of the parasites?”
Exhaling, Ethan quickly wove together a tiny psychic vault. Such vaults were usually used for private conversations, but there was no reason it couldn’t be used to contain one of the creatures. Though what they were, he couldn’t comprehend—the PsyNet was a place of minds and data, nothing else.
He placed the small trap near an infested mind, and one of the creatures all but tumbled into it. Locking it, he left the vault in place.
“I wonder if an empath will be able to see what you do,” Krychek mused. “I’ll ask one nearby.”
The E responded quickly, confusion in her mental voice when she said, “I see minds in the PsyNet. Am I missing something?”
Ethan waited until the E had left to say, “Ask Memory Aven-Rose.” She wasn’t like other Es and her mind had connected with his in a way he didn’t understand; the impact of that contact continued to fracture his shields.
Either Krychek or Aden must’ve had a direct telepathic contact for her, because she appeared in the PsyNet moments later. “What are THOSE?” Her shudder was in her words, a fact Ethan wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t heard it. As it was, he was simply glad someone else could see the creatures. For all he knew, it was possible to take a telepathic snapshot of a hallucination.
“You see them?” he asked, to be certain.
“The creepy crawlies munching on people’s minds? How can anyone miss them?”
“We’ll discuss that later,” Kaleb said. “For now, are you able to clean the Net of them?”
A long pause before Memory shuddered again—or that was what it felt like to Ethan when she spoke. “As long as I don’t have to touch them. Let me get my brush.”
He didn’t understand the reference, but he saw the PsyNet ripple with a midnight rainbow not long afterward, and when the rainbow passed some time later, the area was clean of the parasites.
“What about the one we trapped?” Ethan pointed out the miniature psychic vault. “It’s still alive.” He could feel it, a tiny itch at the back of his head.
“Yes, it is.” Memory sounded tired. “You want me to—”
“No,” Krychek said. “We’ll keep it as a test to confirm who can see such parasites and who can’t.”
“Make sure you contain it,” was Memory’s order before she dropped from the Net.
Kaleb’s obsidian power encased the vault.
Inside Ethan, the mating bond pulsed with a wolf’s growl, his mate sensing his disquiet. Pride at being hers spread through his veins, and he went to drop out of the PsyNet so he could return home . . . but then all hell broke loose. Krychek’s mind disappeared, only for his voice to blast into Ethan’s skull a second later: We have a second site. PsyNet coordinates as follows. Check for parasites.
Ethan raced to the location beside Aden, their minds riding the slipstreams of the PsyNet in a way he couldn’t explain except to say it was like riding the wind. He came to a screeching halt a short time later, slamming a blade of light across Aden’s path to stop him, too. Their minds weren’t anchored in this area and thus probably safe from the contagion, but there was no point in taking an unnecessary risk.
Aden stayed back. “Parasites present?”
“A massive number.” Crawling on minds like ants on an anthill . . . and all at once, he saw the shape of them, understood the truth. “They’re shaped like scarab beetles.”
Aden was silent, likely receiving data from multiple sources.
“What’s the situation on the ground?” Ethan asked the leader of the squad.
“Three self-inflicted fatalities before Kaleb was able to get there, and the chaos is increasing despite our efforts.”
“I’ll—”
“No, Ethan,” Aden said. “I can tell your power is fading and I need you to attempt something else before you stop to recover. Memory’s already close to flameout and we can’t have her totally out of commission—so as you’re the only other person who can currently spot the parasites, I want you to see if you can affect them.”
Ethan had nothing against making the attempt, but they had a practical problem. “My ability only works with light.”
“There is light here.”
Looking at the night sky of the PsyNet, Ethan saw it anew. The soft golden glow of the Honeycomb. The burn of all those living minds. Even the flickering pulse of the parasites. Accessing the part of his mind that created the light that stunned without doing harm, he imagined sweeping it across the psychic plane.
Only at the last minute did he think to warn Aden to close his psychic eye.
Light blazed against the black of the PsyNet and he had a moment to think, I can create beauty, before the flash faded into nothingness.
The parasites had stopped moving—stunned, as his targets would be in the physical plane. So stunned that they fell off their unwitting hosts, stopped burrowing through shields, and just lay in the fabric of the PsyNet.
Ethan, his own power close to redlining, used a fine blade of light calibrated to kill to sweep across a section of the creatures. The bugs died, not disappearing as they had with Memory, but burning up to nothingness. Tiny flashes along his light blade, the Net clean in the aftermath.
Mind aching though the surges had finally stopped, he used the last vestiges of his power to eliminate the rest of the creatures. It took pinprick strikes for the final few, but he made sure to sanitize the entire area. “I need to get back to Selenka.” His body was close to shutting down.
Krychek was waiting for him when he dropped out of the PsyNet and, after one look at his face, teleported him directly to Selenka. She was in the middle of a huge stand of trees, had a clawed hand slicing toward Kaleb before she spotted Ethan. The telekine
tic ’ported out even as she halted her strike.
And Ethan’s vision faded.
“Ethan!” His mate’s voice was the last thing he heard before his body hit the leaf fall on the forest floor.
Chapter 31
Ethan’s flamed out. Initiate safeguards.
—Aden Kai to the Arrow Squad
SELENKA’S WOLF WAS still snarling from Krychek’s sudden appearance when Ethan went down and she didn’t fucking care about anything else. She’d been a fraction too far to catch him and now he lay unmoving on the carpet of leaves, the early evening sunlight casting dappled shadows on him through the canopy.
She’d hooked into the news networks after Ethan teleported out with Kaleb and figured out where he must’ve gone. It had been obvious he wouldn’t return quickly. So she’d spoken with Memory about getting in touch again the instant Ethan was back, then returned to den territory—quite aside from the hit apparently out on all her lieutenants, Emanuel’s death was an open wound, and her pack needed her close.
And her mate was an Arrow. She’d known he’d find her. She just hadn’t expected him to hitch a ride with the most dangerous telekinetic in the world. She and Valentin were both well aware the cardinal could lock onto faces as well as places, but Krychek was a smart political operator and had never before used that ability to violate their territories.
In this case, however, Selenka would forgive any trespass.
Crashing to her knees beside where Ethan had fallen onto his side, she caught the scent of wet iron, but it wasn’t his nose that was bleeding. A crimson tear had beaded at the corner of one eye, while the bead from the eye closest to the forest floor was already trailing down his face.
Wolf shoving at her skin, she checked his pulse, found it thready but steady. Her mate had suffered a psychic wound, one with which she couldn’t help. But . . . Ethan could’ve asked to be taken anywhere. Kaleb had brought him here because Ethan had wanted to come home. To his mate.
Overwhelmed by a piercing tenderness, she bent down to press a kiss to his temple, then used the end of her T-shirt to wipe the blood from his face. It did something to her to know he trusted her to see him at his most vulnerable. She realized then that she’d make the same choice in the same circumstances—Ethan would watch over her and never see weakness in her vulnerability. As she saw the deadly Arrow even now.
“I’m here, Ethan.” Throat thick, she checked his pulse again, then sat down next to him so some part of her body was always touching his as she took out her phone and made a call—she needed foundational information before she contacted the squad.
“Selenka, what can I do for you?” Silver said in that crisp, clear voice of hers.
“I think Ethan’s fried his brain helping with the recent outbreaks. What do I need to do to help him heal?”
“Is your mate unconscious?”
Selenka didn’t bother prevaricating; Silver was the mate of an ally and an ally in her own right—she wouldn’t give Selenka bad information. “Yes. Bloody tears in both his eyes.”
“That may not be as bad as it appears.” Silver’s cool practicality was calming. “It sounds to me like he’s flamed out—that’s when we push our minds so far that we flatline on the psychic plane. He may have burst blood vessels in his eyes depending on the pressure involved.”
Selenka had a feeling the tears had to do with another type of pressure altogether. “Is he vulnerable on the PsyNet?”
“Flameout does leave us vulnerable to psychic intrusion, but as he’s an Arrow, I’m certain he must be safe. Give me a moment.” She was gone for several seconds. “I’ve spoken to my Arrow contact for EmNet. He was not cooperative in the least until I stated I was asking on your behalf. You’ll be receiving a direct call soon.”
Selenka’s phone indicated a second incoming call—from the official call code the squad used for Trinity. “I’ve got it. Spasibo, Silver.” Hanging up, she took the call.
“My name is Axl,” the male voice stated. “I and our squadmates have surrounded Ethan’s mind on the PsyNet. No one will get through our shields.”
Selenka’s tight chest didn’t ease up. She hated being unable to protect him herself. But Axl wasn’t done. “There is an unusual shield immediately around Ethan’s mind that doesn’t appear to be Psy and is sending very aggressive ‘come closer and you’ll die’ signals.”
A smile curved Selenka’s lips. Her wolf was standing guard over her mate. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for him?”
“Keep his body safe and ensure you give him plenty of nutrient fluids and bars when he wakes. He’ll be extremely enervated. It may take up to forty-eight hours for him to recover his psychic strength. He should, however, wake well before that.”
Selenka had wiped away the bloody tears but she kept on scenting her mate’s blood, kept on seeing his hurt. “Spasibo.”
“I am happy to be able to assist.” Perhaps it was her imagination, but Axl’s voice seemed a touch rougher. “Contact me if you need any further data, or should you need a Psy medic. I’ll message you my direct call code after we hang up.”
Nodding though the Arrow couldn’t see her, Selenka ended the conversation, then wiped away the new tear of blood that marred Ethan’s face. “How, lover mine, am I going to get you into the den?” He wouldn’t want people seeing him this way, but she wanted him safe and warm inside the stone walls of their home.
Axl would no doubt provide teleport assistance should she ask, but that would involve giving an Arrow teleporter visual coordinates inside her den. Not happening. She knew Ethan would agree with her call. Which left her with one option.
She took out her phone again.
Oleg appeared almost forty-five minutes later. She’d spent that entire time watching Ethan breathe, the jagged cold of his presence a relief inside her.
“What’s happened?” Quickly putting down all the supplies he’d brought for her, the healer hurried over.
“A psychic flatline.” Regardless, she moved aside so Oleg could run his hands over Ethan to check for any physical injuries.
“I smell blood, Selya.”
When she told him about the bleed, he lifted Ethan’s eyelids to check. “This is not helpful. His eyes have gone black.” Sighing, the healer bent closer. “But I don’t scent any fresh blood, so he’s not continuing to bleed.” A glance at her. “He should be in the infirmary.”
“Oleg.”
The older wolf smiled. “Yes, yes. Your mate shouldn’t be seen this way.”
“It’s not because he’s my mate. It’s because he’s Ethan.” Private, contained, wary of sharing himself; she wouldn’t take that choice from him. “Did you bring everything?”
“Yes, the pop-up tent, the bedding, food and drink. I’ve left one set a little ways away, had to do two trips from the den so as not to draw attention.”
“I’ll get it.” Selenka pressed another kiss to Ethan’s cheek. “Look after him, Oleg. He’s important to me.”
After returning, she set up the tent colored to blend into their surroundings and cushioned the floor with piles of soft leaves before opening out the bedding over it. Everything in place, she went to Ethan and pulled his right arm around her shoulders, while sliding her other arm around his back.
Oleg did the same from Ethan’s left side.
Since the healer had seen even Selenka laid flat, she felt no sense of conflict or guilt in allowing him to help her get Ethan inside the tent. Once they had Ethan on the bedding, she pillowed his head with an extra rolled-up blanket.
“Selya.” Oleg’s voice was gentle, his hand even more so against her shoulder. “Vadem’s wolf is dangerously angry. Artem is with him to ensure he doesn’t do anything stupid, but the man needs his alpha.”
Selenka knew Emanuel’s brother wouldn’t be the only one suffering a delayed reaction. BlackEdge remained he
artbroken and lost. “How can I leave my mate?” she said roughly.
“What would he say?” Oleg asked, wise and kind.
Selenka brushed Ethan’s hair back from his face. “That a queen shouldn’t attend her knight. That it’s the knight’s job to back his queen.” She growled deep in her chest. “He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“A perfect mate for an alpha.” Oleg patted her shoulder. “He’ll sleep for many hours. I’ll watch him while you’re in the den.”
When she didn’t move, Oleg said, “This Ethan of yours, he does not seek to make you smaller. He seeks to be your support as you grow ever stronger and more powerful in yourself. I see this in him and it gives me such joy.”
She turned toward Oleg to see that his gaze held old sadness, the memory of a small girl with scratched knees who’d climbed trees higher and higher and higher in an effort to see the people who’d walked away from her, leaving her behind like unwanted baggage. “Your Ethan, he knows how to keep his promises to his queen.”
Selenka swallowed the knot in her throat. “He’s not a mate I ever imagined. And now I can’t imagine anyone else by my side.” Needing time alone with him, she asked Oleg to leave the tent.
Then she removed Ethan’s boots and socks, undid the fastenings on his uniform jacket and managed to haul him up enough to strip off the jacket. It left him dressed in the white T-shirt that hugged his biceps, and the jeans he’d put on this morning. She slid his belt from his jeans but went no further. Ethan wouldn’t want to wake any less dressed in an unfamiliar situation.
“I’ll be back soon.” She left him with a kiss.
It caused a physical wrench inside her. She rubbed her hand over her chest as she ran. Such a short time she’d known him, and already, he’d broken through the wall that abandoned little girl had built. That he might leave her yet remained a blade hanging over them—but it wouldn’t be a leaving made by choice. That mattered.
Zhanna’s small face was the first one she saw when she entered the clearing in front of the den. The little girl was peeking out from around the door, her eyes searching and her face downcast. Lighting up at seeing Selenka, she made a happy sound and ran out toward her . . . shifting into wolf-pup form as she ran.
