Selenka wrestled her wolf into patience, flipped through the report again. As one of the strongest and most established packs in Russia, BlackEdge had a diversified business base, but a large part of the pack’s income came from producing environmentally friendly components for various vehicles. They’d been building up their reserves to go into the full-on production of vehicles within the next three months. Except it appeared Kaleb Krychek had stealthily put his own plan in play to serve the same market.
It was exactly what Selenka might expect from the most ruthless man she had ever met, but for a single fact. “Something smells off.” Krychek and BlackEdge successfully coexisted in the same region because they took care not to step on one another’s toes. “The payoff isn’t big enough for him to sacrifice his relationship with us.”
That relationship had taken time to build, and while Selenka would probably never actually trust Krychek—and vice versa—they respected one another as adversaries who should not be messed with. “Why this venture? Why not just attempt to mount a hostile takeover of our already established businesses?”
Gregori folded his arms, the tattoos that covered them going taut as his eyes took on a flinty cast. “Maybe he’s decided he doesn’t have to play nice anymore now that he has that black ops squad on his side. The Arrows.”
Selenka could see Krychek unleashing the squad against the pack. If he thought it would be a quick, quiet execution, he had no idea of the strength and ferocity with which Selenka’s wolves would fight. Only . . . Krychek was aware of that truth—he’d also always struck woman and wolf both as a man who’d make it a point to know the other powers in the area—so he had to realize that not only would the wolves howl for blood at an unprovoked attack, so would the other predatory packs.
Krychek was too smart and too politically cutthroat to incite bloodshed in his territory, bloodshed that would suck up his resources at such a critical time. He needed Moscow and the surrounding areas to remain stable, especially now when he was dealing with the aftermath of the deadly psychic infection that had claimed so many lives. BlackEdge had stepped in to help contain the insane violence, as had the StoneWater bears.
All three parties had ended that exhausting, painful, and sad period feeling as if the fragile balance in the region had become far more deeply stable. Krychek kept an eye on the Psy and the humans, while between them, BlackEdge and StoneWater handled the changelings, predatory and nonpredatory.
And yet, what was this business maneuver if not the opening salvo of a silent war? The alpha wolf in Selenka curled its upper lip over its teeth, blood hot. Containing the urge to go for Krychek’s throat took every ounce of her human control. “Can we dig any deeper?” She held up the report, her fingernails painted a vivid pink courtesy of one of the pups who’d waylaid her that morning.
Gregori shook his head, his blond hair tumbled from the wind outside. “We’ve gone as far as we can.”
Which meant the ball was in Selenka’s court. Even a year ago, she’d have taken immediate countermeasures, likely by subverting one of Krychek’s own business interests. However, a year was a long time. As Krychek no doubt kept tabs on the pack, Selenka did the same when it came to him. So she understood that Krychek had changed in a way Selenka didn’t think most people realized.
He had a mate now, and the one time Selenka had seen them together, she’d realized it was a true mating, not a false front. Of course, mated pairs could fuck things up together as easily as those who were single, but no matter what people said about Psy in general and Krychek in particular, a man who had the ability to mate was capable of an intense level of loyalty and commitment.
His relationship with BlackEdge was a cold thing in comparison to the raw fury of a mating, but he’d given Selenka his word that he wouldn’t attempt to encroach on her territory. It was why the pack had never made any aggressive moves against him.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said. “Find out what the fuck is going on.”
And if Krychek wanted a war, she’d give it to him.
• • •
KALEB was still in Venice with the Arrows when he received an urgent message from Silver. “Sir,” his senior aide said, “Selenka Durev is demanding an immediate meeting. She wouldn’t give me details, but her tone makes me believe this is serious.”
“Is BlackEdge showing any signs of aggression?”
“Negative at this point.”
“Monitor the situation. I’ll connect with Selenka.” Walking to the edge of a canal, he made the call. “Selenka,” he said in Russian when she answered. “I received your message.” Even without Silver’s determination, he would’ve known there was a problem: Selenka had the inbuilt arrogance of any predatory alpha, but she never demanded a meeting unless it was necessary. Like him, she was too busy to waste time on petty politicking.
“I need to talk to you,” she replied. “Face-to-face. Can you make the usual spot in a half hour?”
Having already come to the conclusion that there was little further he could do in Venice, Kaleb agreed to the meet, then located Vasic. The other man had been checking up on a sedated Alejandro, who Ivy Jane had apparently managed to put into a natural sleep before the sedatives were administered.
“I’m heading out to handle another situation,” he told the teleporter, “but I’ll keep trying to get to either Aden or Zaira every ten minutes.”
Vasic fell into step with him as they walked out into the courtyard in the center of the compound. “I’m still sensing nothing.”
That was not a good sign. Of the two of them, Kaleb was the more psychically powerful, but Vasic was a Tk-V, a born teleporter. He’d also worked with Aden for decades. If Vasic couldn’t find him, then Aden was either dead or had suffered a traumatic brain injury. The fact that the NetMind, the guardian and librarian of the PsyNet, was confused about both Aden and Zaira, and unable to inform Kaleb if they were alive or dead, further pointed to massive neural damage.
“Did Santos confirm he had a meet with Aden?” he asked instead of stating a fact of which Vasic had to be well aware. The squad had finally narrowed down the time period in which Aden had to have been taken, and it aligned closely to his meeting with the leader of the Forgotten—descendants of those Psy who’d dropped out of the PsyNet at the dawn of Silence.
“Yes.” Vasic’s eyes met those of another Arrow a short distance away and Kaleb knew telepathic orders were being given or data shared. The teleporter had always been the less vocal member of the partnership with Aden, but this incident made it clear that Vasic was fully capable of stepping into the leadership breach if necessary.
A Psy such as Ming would’ve taken the opportunity to stage a coup, permanently pushing out Aden. Vasic, on the other hand, was holding things together for his partner’s return and using all his resources to find him. Kaleb wouldn’t have understood Vasic’s choice once, but that was before he’d built friendships of his own and gained the loyalty of men and women who would never sell him out.
Kaleb would never betray any of them, either.
“There’s nothing to indicate Santos had a hand in the disappearance,” Vasic added. “Visual records confirm Aden left the building after the meeting.”
That didn’t completely clear Devraj Santos, but the other man had no reason to make an enemy of the Arrows. According to Kaleb’s intel, the squad was assisting the Forgotten in figuring out a way to handle the violent new psychic abilities that had started to appear in their population. “I’ll go to New York after my meeting,” he said. “I have contacts there, may be able to run down more information.”
“I’ve already dispatched an Arrow unit to trace Aden’s trail,” Vasic said, his next words unexpectedly blunt. “You have direct access to the NetMind. Can you work on that level?”
Kaleb did have direct access to the guardian and librarian of the PsyNet. He also had access to the NetMind’s dark twi
n. “I’ve already initiated a search.” He told Vasic about the neosentient entity’s confusion as to Aden’s and Zaira’s status, saw grim realization on the other man’s face. “There’s nothing else,” he added. “No data, no rumors. The only way this could’ve been done so cleanly was if everything was kept off the PsyNet.”
Vasic stopped in the shadow of a wall covered by a trailing vine, his eyes chips of winter in the early morning sunlight. “More evidence of intelligence and planning.”
“Yes.” None of this pointed to an impulse act, or one driven by mindless fanaticism. “I also have a team of hackers wading through the Internet and setting up alerts.” Unless the abductions had been organized by a crack ops team, someone somewhere would eventually make a mistake.
“You’ll share any other information you uncover?”
“As soon as I get it.” Kaleb had no friendship with Aden, but he considered the Arrow leader a critical asset.
Leaving Aden’s second in command on the heels of that agreement, Kaleb teleported to his Moscow office and spoke with Silver about a number of other outstanding matters before teleporting out to the windswept and isolated outcrop where he was to meet Selenka.
The wolf alpha was waiting for him, a tall woman with dark eyes and dark hair streaked with purple against coolly white skin. Clad in black jeans, boots, and a hip-length electric blue leather jacket over a white tee, she could’ve been mistaken for a stylish human female if not for the aura of untamed power she carried with her.
Selenka was very much an alpha wolf.
“You’ve suddenly decided to go into the automotive industry?” was her opening salvo.
This was why he liked dealing with Selenka: her directness cut through all the fat. “No,” he said, just as directly. “Except for my shares in Centurion, of which I’m sure you’ve always been aware.”
Waving that away, Selenka passed him a sheaf of papers right as the dull gray sky began to spit with rain. He created a telekinetic shield around them without thought, keeping off the rain so he could read the printed material.
“Handy.”
Kaleb ignored the pithy comment, his attention on the documents that purported to show him mounting a ruthless assault against the pack’s largest business enterprise. “A complex bit of illusion.” He shot telepathic orders to Silver to get to the bottom of these corporate filings.
Hands on her hips, Selenka raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying this isn’t you?”
Kaleb responded with a bluntness he knew she’d appreciate. “I have more important things on my plate right now than starting a fight with a wolf pack known for its aggression.”
A slight smile curved her full lips, her eyes suddenly wolf-gold. “If it’s not you, then things become far more interesting,” she said, the predator inside her adding a gritty roughness to the words.
“It appears someone is attempting to disrupt the peace between us.” He was well aware that should he have truly attempted to go head-to-head with BlackEdge, Selenka’s pack was more than capable of causing hell in his region.
“Say I believe you.” The wolf inside Selenka continued to watch him, its gaze unblinking. “What does anyone get out of pitting us against one another?”
“If the strongest Psy in the region and the strongest pack in the same region suddenly become enemies, the ripple effect would be significant.” Impacting every aspect of life. “Psy afraid to go near changeling territory, changelings worried about fatal psychic rapes, humans feeling pressured into choosing sides. A steady build until things explode into violence.”
Selenka gave a slow nod. “You’d also lose the goodwill of other non-Psy groups.”
“Yes.”
“Someone was counting on us not talking to each other.”
Kaleb didn’t reply in the affirmative because there was no need. “My aide is currently canceling any offers I’ve purportedly made. You have a clear run.” As for the person stupid enough to try to use his name to foster dissent in his region, Kaleb would make certain that individual regretted the mistake.
No one played games with Kaleb.
Chapter 11
ADEN WOKE TO darkness for the second time. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened. Movement around him, the sound of male voices in conversation.
“. . . stable, but I won’t know for sure until she wakes up.” A blown-out breath. “She’s tough as a leopard—just refused to die. As for him, I have no fucking idea how he was still walking.”
His memories cleared enough that he remembered the yellow-green eyes of the leopard who’d slammed him to the ground. Those same eyes had glowed in the face of the man who’d hauled them to his vehicle. A leopard changeling. Having put the pieces together, Aden lifted his lashes.
A tall man with a heavily muscular build, his shaggy hair multiple shades of brown and roughly tumbled, his jaw shadowed with stubble that was dark against golden skin, was talking to another male. That one had a leaner build, but it was paired with a layer of muscle that made it clear he wasn’t used to sitting behind a desk.
The bigger man was dressed in black cargo pants and a dark gray T-shirt, the other in a checked blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, worn untucked over jeans. Neither appeared to be armed.
“The bullet exited all right,” said the one in the checked shirt, “but it ricocheted off her ribs and nicked several of her organs on the way out.” The man, who had to be a medic, touched points on his own chest, as if indicating the impact sites. “Someone patched her up just enough to save her life—left alone, she’d have been dead long before you found her.” He rubbed his face, the honed line of his features placing his age in the late thirties or early forties.
The bigger man, by contrast, had to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine.
“You get the bullet from his leg?” he asked.
A nod. “It’s so distorted it’s pretty much useless.”
Aden didn’t have to listen any further to know the muscular man was in charge—predatory changeling alphas had a certain unmistakable bearing. Young or old, they carried responsibility as well as power.
The alpha turned to him right then, his eyes a striking, clear topaz striated with light. Eyes that looked feline, though the alpha was in his human form. Despite the change in eyes from leopard to human, Aden immediately recognized him as the man he’d met on the mountain.
“You’re awake,” the alpha said, walking over. “I’m Remi. This is Finn.”
Not about to have this meeting lying on his back, Aden sat up, quickly getting a visual of Zaira on the infirmary bed next to his as he did so. His skull throbbed violently but he wasn’t as weak as he might’ve expected. It appeared he’d been given something to maintain his strength, his fluids replenished. “How long have I been out?” he asked, noting that he was wearing only loose black drawstring pants.
Remi threw him a white T-shirt from a shelf to one side of the room. “Eighteen hours.”
An eternity for an Arrow in hands that were not those he trusted, but these hands had saved his life. Pulling on the tee, he reached back and gingerly touched the spot where Zaira had dug out the chip right as Aden had sensed it build up to explosion point, lightning bolts of electricity crawling through his neurons on a direct path to his cerebral cortex.
His fingertips met a thin-skin bandage. “Any permanent damage?”
“I can’t tell.” White lines bracketed the medic’s mouth, his leaf green eyes grim. “Whatever it was you two had in you, it was jammed in—hack job. You probably did less damage taking the things out than was done putting them in.”
Aden couldn’t risk testing his telepathic muscles. If he suffered a backlash of pain, it might leave him helpless again even if it didn’t do any further damage. As it was, he didn’t think the news would be good—he’d consciously dropped his psychic shields when he woke. Instead of sensing a lou
d background hum that denoted the minds of the people around him, he’d heard only echoing silence.
The fact that he was around changelings didn’t explain that silence. Changelings might have strong natural shields, but they existed. And from things Judd had said now and then, he knew most packs had human members as well. He should’ve at least felt a faint murmur that was created of the surface thoughts of a group of sentient living beings.
Controlling his psychic need to reach out took harsh effort. Akin to a changeling leashing his animal, or a human not using her dominant hand while attempting to complete a delicate task. “The current date and time?” he asked, trying not to think consciously of the absolute silence inside his head . . . and of what that silence would do to Zaira if she was in the same condition.
When Remi answered his question, Aden did a rough calculation and realized his and Zaira’s captors had only had him for twenty-three hours prior to their escape. Zaira had to have been taken after him, else he’d have heard of her abduction. Rushing the surgery had been their unknown enemy’s biggest mistake. A longer time frame and the implants would’ve likely become too deeply embedded to easily remove.
“I’d like to take your vitals.” Not waiting for an answer, Finn picked up what Aden recognized as a top-of-the-line medical scanner and closed the distance between them.
Cooperating with Finn’s requests because the medic clearly knew what he was doing, Aden said, “You didn’t contact the squad?” It was very possible this unknown pack had no contacts in the PsyNet, and thus no way to get a message back to Vasic and the others.
Remi shook his head. “Communications are out because of the storm. We figured you’d get in touch with your people once you woke.” He tapped his temple in a silent reference to Aden’s psychic abilities.
“I’d feel better if you had a specialist look at you,” Finn said, putting down the scanner to physically check Aden’s wounded leg. A lock of his light brown hair fell across his forehead but he ignored it to continue his task.
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