Blaze of Memory

by Singh, Nalini

  “Am I treating you like an invalid?”

  She had to concede the point. “No.” In fact, with Lucas busy overseeing a major construction deal, she’d actually been handling more Pack business. “But you’re running yourself ragged—I could’ve driven myself to Cruz, taken a sentinel as escort. Then you’d have had the morning free to read the revised contracts.”

  “I can read the contracts while you’re working with the boy.” Reaching across, he closed his hand over hers. “You know you’re not going to change my mind.”

  She brought his hand to hers, kissed the knuckles. “I know. But I have to try.”

  “Why? Because it makes me crazy?”

  “Because I know I have to train you before our baby arrives.” He’d always been overprotective of those under his care. “A baby leopard won’t take well to constant supervision.”

  He blew out a breath. “I’m alpha. Do you think I don’t know that?”

  She wrapped him in her love on the psychic plane, an invisible kiss.

  His cheek creased with a smile she wouldn’t tire of if she lived to be a thousand. “I know I’m being a pain in the ass, Sascha darling, but humor me. I’m working on letting go—I promise our kid will be a wild savage exactly like Roman and Julian.”

  Laughing at the thought of some of the stunts the two cubs pulled, she blew him a kiss this time. “They wouldn’t talk to me when I went to visit yesterday.”

  “Rome and Jules?” Pure surprise. “I don’t believe it—if they were bigger, they’d fight me to claim you.”

  “Tammy”—the twins’ mom—“said they were sulking because they’d figured out I was going to have a baby.”

  “Ah. Brats are jealous.”

  Lips curving at the thought of the two little boys who’d brought joy into her life from the instant she’d met them, she nodded. “I cuddled them and told them I’d still be their Aunt Sascha. But I don’t think they were convinced until I told them they’d be bigger than the baby—so they could look after it.”

  “Sneaky.” A sharp grin. “Jules, I think, is going to grow up a dominant. Looking after people is an irresistible lure.”

  “What about Roman? He was just as, or even more, excited by the idea.”

  “It’s hard to say for sure, but I think Rome is going to follow in Tammy’s footsteps. And healers love taking care of people.”

  Sascha’s eyes widened at the realization that Lucas was right. Roman had the same calm energy as his mother, though his was overlayered with a vibrant childish joy. “Does that happen often? Healers coming from the same family?”

  Lucas gave a small nod. “Tammy’s family tree has supplied a healer at least every second generation. My mom’s side of the family is more sporadic, but we do have a relatively high rate. There are still a few that turn up out of the blue.”

  “You know,” Sascha said slowly, “it could be that healers come from the same genetic tree as M-Psy. I don’t know about Tammy’s, but your family definitely had Psy members.”

  “Could be.” Sliding into the exit lane, he glanced over at her. “What about this kid, Cruz? He doing okay?”

  “Better than okay.” Sascha couldn’t hide her pride. “He’s so smart, Lucas. I teach him something once, and it’s like this.” She snapped her fingers. ”He’s a natural.”

  “Good, the faster he learns to protect himself, the better.”

  “You’re worried about the Council?”

  Lucas gave a small nod. “Dev thinks Shine’s managed to keep the true strength of some of their people under the radar, but he wants us to be extra careful.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Sascha said, a wave of anger building beneath the surface of her skin. “After what they did to Jon and Noor.”

  “We’re almost there, kitten.” A brush of his knuckles over her cheek. “You said Cruz needs absolute stability.”

  Nodding, she took a deep breath and began to settle her emotions step by slow step. But one thing continued to worry her. “I felt Katya that first time we went to see Cruz.” She tried not to intrude, but her ability was so much a part of her, she invariably picked up emotional resonances—especially when those emotions were so viciously strong. “She’s keeping so much inside—it must physically hurt.”

  Lucas took almost a minute to reply. “She’s strong,” he finally answered. “There’s a granite will in there.”

  “Dev is strong, too.”

  A swift glance from panther green eyes. “You picked that up, too?”

  “Hard to miss the intensity between them. But ...”

  “But?”

  She dropped her head back against the seat. “I’m so scared for them, Lucas. Because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t see how they could ever find a happy ending.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Ming continued to work as something pinged against his mental shields. It was nothing, simply a reminder that Ekaterina Haas was still alive. He hadn’t expected her to last this long—but then again, humans were weak, easily manipulated. And the Forgotten had become more and more human with the passage of time.

  Perhaps the little sleeper would complete her task after all.

  Putting the unimportant project out of his mind, he concentrated on the problem at hand. Aden, he said, telepath ing directly to the medic in charge of monitoring the Arrow Squad’s response to Jax, How many Arrows have reacted negatively to the Jax regimen in the past six months?

  The response came almost at once, Aden’s primary talent being telepathy. Seven. We can’t afford to lose that many.

  Ming agreed. Arrows were highly trained, many from childhood. There were never more than two hundred overall, and currently, the number of active Arrows had dropped to a hundred and sixty. Are you close to resolving the issue?

  Something like this happened with Judd Lauren.

  Ming recognized the name at once as that of the lone Tk-Cell who’d survived to adulthood in the past generation. Judd Lauren’s ability to literally stop the cells of the body had made him an invaluable assassin. Wasn’t he taken off Jax?

  Yes. Along with most of the other Tks. They all functioned as well without it—telekinetics seem to only need a very short stay on the regimen. Aden didn’t elaborate but Ming didn’t need him to—he knew that after a certain period, the pathways of the brain set permanently, making the use of the drug redundant.

  Will that solution work in this case? he asked.

  According to available data, yes. It appears some Arrows are in fact being overdosed on Jax since they no longer need it.

  Ming took a few minutes to consider the decision. If he lost control of the Arrows, they could conceivably take over the Net. One Arrow was worth thousands of normal soldiers. Try it on the ones who’re already breaking down. See if it has any effect.

  I’d suggest a small number of others who may be close to that point, Aden said. I can send you a list.

  Do it. Vasic? Is he on Jax? The teleporter was not only an invaluable part of the Squad, Ming utilized him on an almost weekly basis.

  No. He hasn’t been for years. His brain has reset.

  Acknowledging the receipt of the additional names Aden had sent through, Ming ended the telepathic conversation. As long as Vasic was on a leash, there was no problem.

  CHAPTER 39

  Dev brought the car to a halt in front of the restaurant/ bar/hotel/post officeinablink-and-you’ll-miss-ittowninthe middle of nowhere. He’d charged up the engine with enough juice to go for days, and they had supplies, but they needed to stretch their legs at least. “We should stay the night,” he said, knowing what Katya’s reply was going to be before she opened her mouth.

  “I can feel it ripping at me.” She stared out at the blackness on the other side of the windshield—it was only six, but night had fallen with the swiftness of a raven’s wings. “We’re so close.”

  He’d been more than ready to drive on, but now, looking out at the pitch dark, the flurries of snow, he shook his head. “We hav
e to wait for light. Or we might miss what we’re searching for.”

  “We won’t.” She fisted her hand, swallowed. “But you’re right—we might not see all of it. I can’t sleep, but maybe we can wait until the snow passes at least.”

  And that’s what they did. Dev checked them into one of the hotel’s two rooms and grabbed a few movies from the elderly owner’s vast selection. The movies were on small five-centimeter discs rather than the much more expensive crystals, but they looked in reasonably good condition. Sliding one into the player after Katya told him to choose, he stretched out on the bed, his back against the headboard, his legs straight out.

  Katya stood at the window, her body outlined in a lonely silhouette. But she wasn’t alone, would never again be that isolated.

  “Come here,” he said, raising an arm.

  Turning from her vigil at the window, Katya crossed the room on silent feet and tucked herself against him. “What are we watching?” she asked, but her eyes kept sliding to the clear square looking out into the night darkness.

  Whether it was because of her or because of his own abilities, he didn’t know, but he, too, could feel the pull of the evil that awaited. He hugged her closer. “The sacrifices I make for you—just watch.”

  She was intrigued enough to pay attention to the screen. “Pride and Prejudice,” she read out. “It’s a book written by a human. Nineteenth century?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The hero is . . . Mr. Darcy?”

  “Yes. According to Ti, he’s the embodiment of male perfection.” Dev ripped open a bag of chips he’d grabbed and put it in Katya’s hands. “I don’t know—the guy wears tights.”

  “Shh.” She ate a chip. “I have to pay attention. The language is different.”

  His restlessness calmed as she settled down. He was aware of her attention going to the window, the dark, every so often, but she smiled, too, and once, she even laughed. Sometime around three a.m., she said, “Mr. Darcy is almost Psy in his characterization, don’t you think?”

  “I try not to think too much about Mr. Darcy.”

  Laughing, she put her hand on his chest. “No, really. I would’ve thought the writer based him on a Psy template, but we weren’t Silent in her time. Psy were just like humans and changelings then.”

  He considered that. “I have trouble picturing it.”

  “Then you haven’t been watching—several of the characters in this story are Psy,” she pointed out. “Oh, look, it’s the villain.”

  He was amused by the way she deconstructed the whole story scene by scene precisely like the scientist she was. But she had heart, too. He caught her sighing at the end.

  He had to kiss her then, had to taste her happiness. Because it wouldn’t last. The inevitable was fast approaching, he could feel it in his bones. Thirty minutes later, they were back in the car, traveling toward something neither of them truly wanted to see... and yet couldn’t not see.

  “I think we need to turn right at the crossroads.”

  Not questioning her, he took the direction. The sky finally started to lighten almost three hours into the journey, streaks of pink and orange emerging in the east. But despite the burst of color the world remained desolate. The outpost they’d stayed in had been the last trace of civilization. “Have you ever seen the northern lights?” he asked, watching the car’s own lights dim automatically as the sensors picked up the sun’s stealthy creep across the sky.

  “No.” She released a breath. “I’d like to, though.”

  “You might get lucky—the timing’s right and we’re far enough north.”

  “Have you seen them?”

  “Yeah. I used to come up here to visit Michel when we were kids. When my mom was alive.” The memory ached, but it was one of the good ones. “His mom, Cindee, and my dad are brother and sister.” Cindee had wanted to raise him after his father’s incarceration, but he hadn’t been able to bear the guilt in her beautiful eyes.

  Even as a nine-year-old he’d known that if he walked into that house, she’d spend the rest of her life trying to make up for a crime that had never been her fault. It hadn’t even been his father’s, though that was a forgiveness Dev simply couldn’t find in himself. Instead, he’d gone into his nani’s spice-and-glass-scented embrace, letting her warmth melt the ice that had grown around his heart.

  “But Michel doesn’t live in Alaska now?”

  “No, he does. He’s just on a transfer to Washington State for the year. Some kind of training course.”

  “He remains a good friend,” Katya said, obviously trying to keep her tone light though her eyes were locked on the road in front of them. “He must be—to pull Jessie’s truck over because you were looking for me.”

  Dev scowled. “I still can’t believe you managed to get out of the house with three of us trained in combat there.”

  “People tend to underestimate me.” It was the first time he’d heard a hint of arrogance in her.

  He decided he liked it. “I won’t be making that mistake again. And yeah, me and Mischa, we’re close as brothers.” Cindee had made sure the cousins met, coming down to West Virginia, where Nani had her home and studio, when Dev had refused to go up to Alaska. He hadn’t been able to bear the journey without his mom.

  “Mischa?”

  “That’s what his mom’s always called him.” Dev grinned. “He’s given up trying to get anyone in the family to use his actual name most of the time.”

  “Does anyone call you Devraj?”

  “My nani—my maternal grandmother.” Without asking, he turned left.

  Katya leaned forward, her motion almost absent. “Yes.” Putting her hands on the dash, she scanned the road in front of them, but there was nothing to see—it twisted this way and that, leaving limited visibility. “What are they like, the lights?”

  “Like seeing a piece of heaven.” He grimaced at the poetic words, but they were the only ones he had. “Makes you humble, they’re so beautiful. If you don’t get to see them this time around, we’ll come up here again.”

  “I’d like that.” She gave him a strained smile. “Do you visit Michel much?”

  “Now and then.” Dev had finally returned to Alaska when Cindee was admitted to the hospital after a bad accident on the ice. His aunt’s guilt still lingered, but it had been mellowed by time, by seeing him grow up into a stable youth. These days, they could have a conversation almost untainted by the past. “He comes down sometimes, too.”

  Katya gave Dev a penetrating look, her attention momentarily caught by the amusement in his voice. “What do the two of you get up to?”

  “We used to raise hell when we were younger.” A wicked grin. “We’re more civilized these days.”

  “Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.” She thought of Dev and Michel together, darkly sexy and wickedly charming. Hmm . . . “I think I need to hear more about these civilized times.”

  “Male code of honor. No telling.”

  A shiver crept up her spine even as she went to tease him back. Whipping her head around, she spied the narrow one-lane road to the right. “There.”

  Dev was already turning, all humor gone from his face. Now he reminded her of nothing so much as a hunter, lean, hungry, and determined. She was suddenly very glad he was by her side—she didn’t know if she’d have made it this far alone. The dread in her stomach was a heavy weight, inciting nausea and a panic that told her to run, dear God, run!

  “No,” she whispered. “No more running.”

  Dev shot her a quick look before returning his attention to the road. “We’ll finish this.” It was a vow.

  Two minutes later, they came over a final, snow-covered rise and into a ghost town.

  The sun’s rays cut over the houses half buried in snow, glanced off the broken windows, the ripped and hanging signs. “How many?” she whispered almost to herself.

  “Five hundred.” Dev pointed to the severely weather-beaten—but still standing—sign to their right. �
��Sunshine, Alaska, population five hundred.”

  Sunshine. Every tiny hair on her body stood up. “This place is too small for five hundred.”

  “Yeah—sign’s pretty old.” Unclipping his safety belt, he looked to her. “Ready?”

  “No.” But she undid her own belt, feeling as if she was letting go of her last hope of escape. Shuddering, she shook off the chill, and when Dev came around the car, she was waiting to link hands with him and walk into Sunshine, Alaska. The sense of dread that had been chasing her for days settled into a kind of viscous miasma, at once frightening . . . and sad. That, she hadn’t expected—the sense of sorrow, so heavy it weighed down her very bones. “Where are they all?”

  Dev didn’t answer, frowning as he looked around. “We’re in the town center, but I don’t see a bar.”

  “Why’s that important?”

  “Human nature,” he muttered. “Bars are some of the first places to go up and the last to close in any small town. This far out, it’d probably be the only place people could socialize. Unless there’s a church? Could be a religious settlement.”

  She shook her head. “The buildings are all very uniform. Even the Second Reformation churches have a symbolic shape that makes them stand out.”

  They kept walking, the snow thick but manageable around their boots. She was glad she’d stuffed a woolen cap over her head before she exited the car, but Dev’s hair shone dark under the cool winter sun. “Aren’t you cold?” Reaching into his coat before he could reply, she took out his own knit cap and tugged it over his head.

  “Thanks.” It was a distracted comment as he took her hand again.

  “The buildings aren’t completely submerged,” she said, glancing around. “This place wasn’t abandoned that long ago.”

  “No,” Dev murmured. “Look at the way it’s packed on the left—there’s been a strong wind at some stage. It pushed everything that way.”

  She turned, nodded. “We can’t explore that side, not easily.” There was no question they had to get inside. “It’s so quiet here.” The absence of sound hurt her.