Blaze of Memory

by Singh, Nalini

  Picking up the glass on the table with cold-blooded precision, she threw it at the door. It made a very satisfying crashing noise. She hoped Dev wasn’t wearing shoes the next time he walked into the apartment. In fact, she thought, picking up a vase from the coffee table, she hoped he shredded his feet. Another crash, the porcelain shards mixing with crystal.

  As she searched for another breakable object, a drop of water fell on her hand. She glanced down, confused. Where had it come from? The ceiling was dry, and the water, when she raised it to her mouth, tasted of salt.

  Tears.

  She was crying. Lifting trembling fingers to her cheeks, she brushed wonderingly at the dampness. She’d cried before; she knew that. In that dark room where Ming had buried her, she’d cried so many tears. But none had been like these. Clean. Angry. Determined. This time, she didn’t feel a victim. She felt very much a woman who’d been wronged and who was going to get her vengeance.

  Devraj Santos didn’t know who he was messing with.

  Dev was still riding the red edge of fury an hour later when he coded in a call to Ashaya.

  The M-Psy answered almost at once. “Is Katya alright?” were her first words.

  “Did you know how powerful a telepath she is?”

  Ashaya’s eyes went wide. “Yes, but she’d never use it to do harm.”

  “The woman you knew might not have,” Dev snapped. “You have no fucking idea what she might do now.”

  Dorian’s face replaced Ashaya’s. “That’s enough.” It was a snarl. “You fucked up in not asking the question. Don’t put it on my mate.”

  Dev’s anger whiplashed back on him. He knew Dorian was right, had known before he called. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I apologize.”

  Dorian waved it off. “Did she hurt anyone?”

  “Not this time.” Pure, blind luck that Tag had been on-site. “I need to talk to Sascha.”

  “She can’t do much about a telepath.”

  “We’ve got a kid with shielding problems.” And according to the info DarkRiver had allowed Talin to share, Sascha was one of the best shield builders in or out of the Net.

  “Call Lucas,” Dorian said. “Not worth my life to give you Sascha’s cell number.”

  “Why?”

  “Just call Luc. Here’s the code.” A pause. “And the next time you yell at my mate, I’ll rip your throat out. We clear?” Leopard eyes looking out of a human face.

  Dev stared into those eyes, knowing a show of dominance when he saw it. “Crystal—but don’t consider me easy prey.” When talking with predatory changelings, appearing weak could be fatal.

  Dorian’s eyes gleamed. “Long as you don’t pull that shit again, we won’t have to find out which one of us is more deadly.”

  Temper now on a leash, Dev input Lucas’s number on the main comm panel. The DarkRiver alpha’s face appeared on the screen an instant later. “Santos,” Lucas said, cat green eyes curious. “This about Noor and Jon?”

  “No.” Dev shook his head at the mention of the two Forgotten children Talin had adopted. “I need a favor.”

  “You do realize we keep track?”

  “Yeah.” DarkRiver hadn’t become one of the strongest packs in the country by being soft touches. “We’ll owe you.”

  “So?”

  “I need Sascha’s help.”

  Lucas’s gaze went quiet, intent. But all he said was “Explain.”

  Dev gave him a bare-bones outline. “I’m hoping Sascha can teach him to build some shields of his own. I don’t know if it’s possible, but if she’s as good as Talin says—”

  “She’s the best,” Lucas interrupted, pride in every word. “But you’re telling me this kid is damaged—if the damage is in the brain itself, Sascha won’t be able to do anything.”

  “All our scans show that his brain is functioning at a hundred percent. He took the hit on the psychic plane.”

  “Psychic injuries can be as brutal as physical ones.”

  “But,” Dev said, “there’s a slightly better chance of recovery.”

  Lucas nodded. “I’ll ask Sascha.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” Lucas’s eyes stayed human, but Dev knew it was the panther who was speaking. “Even if she says yes, and knowing my mate’s heart, she will, she’s not stepping one foot out of DarkRiver territory.”

  Dorian’s earlier words suddenly made sense. “Sascha’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

  A small nod. “Keep it to yourself. We don’t want the Council turning eyes in her direction.”

  “You’re saying I’m going to have to travel to you if I want Sascha’s help.”

  “I feel for the kid,” Lucas said, “but Sascha comes first. As it is, I’ll probably have to hog-tie her to make sure she doesn’t get on an airjet and head to you.”

  “But you’ll tell her?” Dev asked.

  “When you get hitched, try lying to your mate and see where it gets you. I’ll call back after I talk to Sascha.”

  Knowing he’d done all he could on that front, Dev stepped out to talk to Maggie. “Tell me which fires I need to put out and which ones can wait.”

  His secretary, an elegant forty-eight-year-old with naturally silver hair that she’d turned into a fashion statement, raised an eyebrow. “Well, where do I begin? Jack and the others want another meeting.”

  Dev only just stopped himself from gritting his teeth. “When?” Avoidance would get none of them anywhere—and this way, at least he could keep an eye on the problem.

  “They’re in the city.”

  “Slot them in this afternoon.” Head aching, he nodded at her to go on. “Next?”

  “Glen says he’ll ensure Patient X will have high-calorie foods delivered to her.” There was no curiosity in her tone. Maggie likely knew every single detail about Patient X—there was a reason he’d hired her over the shiny new graduates who’d applied for the position.

  “Next.” He was still so angry he could barely bring himself to think of the woman who’d slipped under his defenses ... then knifed him in the heart.

  CHAPTER 23

  Even as Dev hung up on Lucas and turned his mind to other matters, something inexplicable was taking place in the DarkRiver alpha’s territory.

  Judd Lauren, Psy rebel, former assassin, and fucking dangerous son of a bitch according to all who knew him, looked mystified at the little girl who was staring up at him, all huge eyes in a heart-shaped face. “Yes?” Crouching down to the forest floor, he tried to appear nonthreatening. “Did you want something?”

  She shook her head, glossy black curls bouncing on her shoulders.

  Judd had become better with kids since leaving the PsyNet, but right that second, he felt utterly clueless. Normally when he came down to train with Dorian, it was only Keenan he encountered. And Dorian’s son was more interested in copying their moves than chatting. “Noor,” he tried again. “Are you looking for Keenan?” He knew the two were fast friends.

  Another shake of her head.

  He glanced behind her, hoping Dorian would come out and rescue him. No such luck. “Do you want to play?” It was generally what Ben, one of the SnowDancer pups, wanted when he trailed after Judd.

  But Noor shook her head again.

  Desperation took hold. “Ah . . .” He had nothing.

  Then she smiled, pure trust in the sparkle of her eyes. “I have a present for you.” She lifted a little fist.

  “Oh?” Startled, he held up his hand, palm up. “Why?”

  “Because we’re the same.”

  Judd closed his hand over the river-smoothed stone she put in his hand, knowing he was nothing like this bright innocent. His ability had made him an assassin, then a healer, but it would still be so easy for him to kill—only his love for Brenna, for his family and friends, his pack, kept him from crossing that brutal line. “Yeah? How do you figure that?”

  A beatific smile. “I just know.” Then she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck
.

  Hugging her back with all the gentleness he had in him, he rose to his feet, taking her with him. And as he walked back to Dorian’s, he wondered what similarities a little girl whose name meant “Light,” saw between them.

  Once, he would’ve brushed it off, distanced himself. Now, he kissed her cheek and accepted the gift of her trust.

  CHAPTER 24

  Katya ate everything sent to her over the next three days. She didn’t try to escape—though she did secrete away the over-the-counter pain and flu medication she found in the bathroom, not that it would do her much good—and she didn’t try to use telepathy. Instead, she concentrated on strengthening herself using exercise routines she downloaded off the computer console on the wall. That computer only allowed her to access the most basic of sites, but that was fine. She had what she needed.

  Pushing all the furniture in the living room to the walls, she made a space where she could stretch out and begin to put her body back into shape. She even cleared away the glass and porcelain shards, loath to let Dev see how deeply he’d hurt her. Her focus was on getting strong enough that she could take the opportunity to escape when the chance came.

  And then ... she had a nightmare to face.

  On the fourth day after she’d been knocked unconscious, Dev finally returned. She ignored him as she began to go through her stretching routine. He came to a stop at the edge of the cleared space. “Pack your stuff. We’re moving.”

  Excitement uncurled in her gut, but she kept her face expressionless. “Where?”

  “You’ll be near Ashaya.”

  She was already shaking her head. “We discussed this. I can’t be trusted around her.”

  “That’s why you’ll voluntarily take a mild sedative.”

  Her stomach dropped. “No.” It would disorientate her, leave her helpless. And she was through with being helpless.

  Dev folded his arms across that chest she’d slept so peacefully on mere days ago. “Fine. Be ready by ten.”

  She could feel her fingernails biting into her palms. “Who’s going to punch me to put me to sleep?” she asked, furious enough to draw blood. “You?”

  He walked out without answering, shattering her new-found calm.

  Tag was waiting outside Katya’s room when Dev walked out. “Didn’t go well?”

  “She won’t take a sedative.”

  “Did you really think she would?”

  “No.” He wouldn’t have either. “But since both you and Tiara are going, she needs to come with us when we go see Sascha. And no way can I take her in when she might be a threat. Lucas’ll slit my throat.”

  “There is another option,” Tag pointed out. “Glen could put her into a medically induced coma while we’re gone.”

  Dev felt his entire body hum with violence. “We do that, it’s torture.” It’d break her, put her back in that room where she hadn’t been able to see, hear, touch.

  “Yeah.” Tag blew out a breath. “You have a little bit of telepathy—can you tell when she’s using her abilities?”

  “Now that I know to watch for it—if I’m close, yeah.”

  Tag straightened his big body away from the wall. “Then stay close. Close enough to physically incapacitate her if necessary.”

  Dev’s stomach roiled.

  “I’ll do it.” It was a quiet offer from a man who knew Dev better than most.

  “No.” He stared at the door he’d only just stopped himself from slamming minutes ago. “She’s mine.”

  “Your responsibility, you mean.” It was a very deliberate reminder.

  “Don’t worry—I’m not being led around by anything other than the brain in my skull.” Not anymore.

  “Well, she’s a pretty thing now that she’s started to fill out.” Tag shrugged. “And we all know how you are with the helpless ones.”

  “But she’s not exactly helpless, is she?” He almost felt a sense of pride in her. God, how fucked up. Yet ... if she had been telling the truth—if she’d survived not only torture, but the destruction of her mind, her personality itself, shouldn’t that be a cause for pride?

  “No.” Tag’s agreement poured cold water over his thoughts.

  “What are you going to tell Lucas?”

  “The truth.” He forced himself to look away from the door, from the fury of a woman who was no longer the broken creature he’d found, but someone far more dangerous...far more compelling. “If necessary, I’ll inject her with sedatives myself.”

  Again, Tag shrugged. “Dev, don’t torture yourself like this. Give over the responsibility to me.”

  “No.” Flat. No room for compromise. “You need to control Cruz—that’s much more intensive—Tiara can’t do it on her own.”

  “Yeah. Kid’s still wide open if we’re not blocking him.”

  If only, Dev thought, they could neutralize Katya as easily. It would make her far less of a threat, but Katya wasn’t simply Psy, she was an adult. Even if Tag or Tiara could block her, she’d fight them, and in doing so, drain energy they needed to ensure Cruz’s safety. “If Katya let you into her mind,” he said to Tag, “if she was able to drop her telepathic shields, could you block her?”

  “I’d have to be monitoring her the entire time,” Tag said. “She’d hate it. It’s different with Cruz—he puts on that sullen act, but there’s acceptance there. He knows he needs the shields we put around him. They make him feel safe.”

  “But they’d make Katya feel violated.”

  “That and trapped.”

  “Then we won’t consider it.” It was an instant decision, made in the primitive core of his soul. “She’s already been cut off from the PsyNet. We do this, we effectively maim her.”

  “So you believe her story?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.” Looking up, he caught Tag’s expression. “Say it.”

  “You know what I’m going to say.” Tag shrugged. “You need to hand her off to someone else—her feelings shouldn’t count here. We need to contain her in the most effective way possible.”

  Dev knew that. He also knew it wasn’t happening. She was his—whatever happened, he’d allow no one else to interfere. “Maybe this time, the Council did it right.” He began to head away from Katya’s suite.

  “Maybe.” Tag fell in beside him. “And maybe they don’t know you as well as they think.”

  “You mean I’m not a sucker for hurt women?” He’d been rewired that way the day after his ninth birthday. No one would ever be able to pull that wiring out.

  “You might have a weakness,” Tag replied as they stepped into the elevator, “but it won’t stop you from doing your job as director.”

  “So the fact that I’m a stone-cold bastard is my salvation?”

  Tag’s smile was thin. “The last board was full of nice men and women. The Council almost ate us alive. I’d rather trust a shark at the helm.”

  PETROKOV FAMILY ARCHIVES

  Letter dated September 1, 1976

  Dear Matthew,

  You played with your father and Emily today, all three of you laughing so hard you made my soul burn with joy. Your father is managing to remain lucid for hours at a time, though I wonder at what it costs him.

  Today he received another blow when your uncle Greg decided for Silence. I don’t think your father expected his brother to take that step, but Greg’s foreseeing abilities are stronger than David’s. The nightmares in his eyes . . . I wish I could help him. But I’m an M-Psy, a scanner.

  Some people say that’s why I don’t understand the importance of Silence, but dear God, how can they think that? I’m married to an F-Psy, mother to two little telepaths. I know the exact cost—down to the last tear, the last shred of fear, the last little bit of light in your father’s eyes.

  I even said to him that perhaps Greg was right, that perhaps Silence might help those with his gift. He didn’t get angry. He knows too well that I love him to the core of my being—the idea of watching his mind fragment, break under the weight
of the darkness of his visions... it shatters me. Do you know what he said, Matthew?

  He said he’d rather die a madman than live by wiping out everything that makes him who he is. He’d rather live one day with his love for me, you, and Emily in his heart than a lifetime without feeling that “wild, endless fury.” Your father is a poet at times. I bet you didn’t know that. I’m smiling as I write this, knowing we’ve made up our minds. We’ll stand against Silence. But Matty, I fear that we might be in the minority.

  With all the love in my heart,

  Mom

  CHAPTER 25

  Katya was starkly conscious of Dev’s barely contained energy as he sat beside her on the airjet. Escorted to the very back of the plane, she’d been warned against trying to see who else was on board—though it was difficult to miss the two people moving about in front. One was a big man Dev had introduced as Tag, the other a Venus of a woman with a sleek waterfall of blue-black hair and a dazzling tawny-eyed smile set against a face that was all supermodel cheekbones.

  There was, she knew, someone else on the plane, but he or she had been kept from Katya’s sight. She made no effort to do a telepathic sweep, to discover the hidden individual’s identity. Dev had shown her the pressure injector in his pocket after they boarded. She’d expected a threat, but he’d cut her legs right out from under her instead.

  “You force me to use this,” he’d said, something dark and painfully old in his eyes, “and I’ll never forgive you.”

  In that moment, she’d had the startling realization that she was seeing the real Devraj Santos for the very first time. He’d retreated behind his walls an instant later, and now, ten minutes into the journey, he was busy working on his electronic datapad. Not a word had passed between them in the ensuing time.