by Nalini Singh
Lisette was his past, Adria his future.
RILEY finished his cell phone conversation with Kenji in relation to the BlackSea meet and glanced over to where his mate stood at Nate and Tammy’s kitchen window, her eyes trained on something outside. They’d driven down because he’d needed to return some tools he’d borrowed from Nathan, and since she’d been off shift, Mercy had come along to catch up with Tamsyn—and take the opportunity to “dress like a girl.”
Having chosen a strappy dress patterned with bright yellow sunflowers, she’d pulled her red hair back in a high ponytail and slipped her feet into simple white flip-flops decorated with a single daisy at the toes. She looked sunny and pretty and girly—and he knew damn well she’d worn those shoes because she could kick them off in a second and haul ass, should it be necessary for the protection of the pack.
Smile widening, he walked over to slide his arm around her waist and nuzzle a kiss to the creamy slope of her neck. “What’s so interesting?” he murmured in a sub-vocal whisper, conscious of Nate and Tamsyn teasing one another at the table on the other side of the kitchen bench.
“Faith is having hysterics.”
Wolf immediately on alert, he followed her line of sight to see the spectacle of tranquil, graceful Faith NightStar doubled over in the DarkRiver healer’s backyard, laughing too hard to reply to whatever it was her bemused mate was saying. She and Vaughn had swung by fifteen minutes earlier to drop off a box of medical supplies they’d picked up for Tamsyn, had ended up staying for coffee.
Now, the F-Psy finally stopped giggling long enough to say something to Vaughn. The jaguar’s grin could best be described as shit-eating.
Mercy’s claws hissed out.
Riley squeezed her waist. “Do you want to know?” His wolf paced in excitement—man and wolf both liked knowing things in advance, but Riley was aware Mercy preferred surprises. He’d go with her choice on this, since it was highly unlikely he’d be able to keep his mouth shut if Faith had foreseen what he thought she had.
Because right before Kenji’s call distracted him, Riley had caught Faith staring at Mercy, cardinal eyes huge. A second later, the F-Psy had developed a sudden cough, strong enough that she’d had to step outside. Clearly, Mercy had already connected the same dots he just had.
“I love surprises,” she whispered, retracting her claws and placing her hand on the as yet flat curve of her abdomen, “but I think this time, for our sanity, we’d better find out what she’s seen in our future.”
Riley rubbed her lower back. “Probably a hellion redhead.”
“Or perhaps a stubborn wolf pup who likes to get his own way.”
Grinning at one another, they turned to Nate and Tamsyn. “We’ll be back in a second,” Mercy said, tugging him toward the door.
It took them only seconds to reach Faith and Vaughn. “Spill it,” Mercy ordered the instant they were close enough.
The F-Psy wiped tears from her eyes, her smile the sweetest innocence. “What?”
“Don’t make me beat it out of you, Faith NightStar. Just tell us—is our child going to drive us that insane?”
For some reason, the question set Faith off again. She laughed so hard she ended up sitting on the ground, Vaughn crouched beside her. Rubbing her back, the jaguar attempted to look solemn. He failed miserably, his cheeks creased in a rare grin. “You know,” he said, “the future is mutable, subject to change.”
“I’m guessing from Faith’s response that this particular aspect of it is pretty much set in stone.” Folding her arms, Mercy tried to breathe past the bubbles of incipient delight in her bloodstream. “Our baby’s going to shift into a wolf, isn’t he?” Adorable, she thought, their pup would be downright adorable, his cute face a miniature copy of Riley’s.
“Hmm.” Faith pursed her lips together.
“Into a leopard?” Riley’s delight was transparent. “With Mercy’s pattern of spots?”
A spurt of laughter before Faith said, “Hmm,” again.
“Faith.” It was a shared growl.
Sharing a cagey look with her mate, the F-Psy said, “I think Tammy handles her boys real well, don’t you?” in a musing tone of voice.
Mercy’s legs collapsed under her. “Nu-huh,” she said, aware of Riley coming down beside her. “I am not having twins.”
“No, I’m sure you’re not.” Faith’s immediate response was strangely disappointing when the idea of twins had been such a shock. “You know how foresight works—things are never crystal clear, and multiple births are rare.” Rising to her feet, she held out a hand to Vaughn. “Let’s go drink that coffee.”
Mercy’s head was so turned around, it took her brain until after the other couple had left the yard to process what Faith had actually said. “Multiple births.” Her no-doubt punch-drunk eyes slammed into Riley’s. “Multiples.”
“But she’s sure we’re not having twins.” Riley looked alternately ecstatic and dazed. “Changelings have a lower birth rate than Psy or humans, but within that, we do have a higher rate of multiple births than the other races.”
Mercy stared at him. “How can you be so calm?”
“Because I can’t wait to kiss the babies you give me, kitty cat.” Taking her into his arms, he nipped her affectionately on the jaw. “One or three or five, I hope they all have their mama’s spirit.”
“My mother always said my punishment for giving her countless gray hairs before she was thirty would be little terrors of my own.” Stealing a kiss from those firm lips, she said, “Hopefully, your genes will balance mine out and we’ll get gorgeous, well-behaved auburn-haired babies who listen to their mother.”
Riley stared at her … and then they were laughing and kissing and holding on to one another, happy and scared and nervous all at once.
ALICE
FROM: Lara
TO: Sascha
Ashaya
Tammy
Amara
DATE: Sep 22, 2081 at 1.21 p.m.
SUBJECT: Patient A
I wanted to give you an update on the results of Sascha’s visit. Patient A’s mental activity has increased at an acute rate, and I have to say she’s significantly more “alert.” However, there are no signs of her rising to consciousness.
FROM: Amara
TO: Ashaya
CC: Lara
Sascha
Tammy
DATE: Sep 22, 2081 at 1.38 p.m.
SUBJECT: re: Patient A
It may be the optimal time to inject her with the new serum.
FROM: Ashaya
TO: Lara
CC: Amara
Sascha
Tammy
DATE: Sep 22, 2081 at 3.45 p.m.
SUBJECT: re: re: Patient A
I agree with Amara. However, we’ll need another seven to ten days to complete our final calibration of the serum—some of the tests take time to show results. Call me if you see any sign the patient is regressing. I’d rather not inject her with the serum as is, but if it’s a choice between taking the risk and her life, then I will.
TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION BETWEEN AMARA ALEINE AND ASHAYA AFTER PREVIOUS E-MAIL
Why do you make me use this archaic method of communication? I am not a primate only capable of tapping out primitive messages on a keyboard.
Because you need to learn to communicate with others.
Why?
Amara, you said you’d try.
Very well. Have you completed your analysis of section 2B3 of the Alliance neural chip?
Yes. It appears stable and secure. Your conclusions?
I concur. Let’s move to section 2B4.
Agreed. Amara … how are you?
Stable and secure.
Amara.
There is a male in the labs who speaks to me. I do not know why—he has nothing of relevance to say.
Perhaps he likes you.
Then he’s being irrational. I can’t like him back.
Talk to him anyway. You might find it an interesting interaction.
Unlikely, but I will consider it another step in my “rehab.”
Do you feel any different?
I no longer have psychopathic thoughts as often. I believe that could be termed progress.
You’re not a psychopath.
Or perhaps you simply don’t want me to be.
Chapter 51
HAWKE SLAPPED RILEY on the back. “Hell yeah.” His wolf was as proud of the other man’s news as he’d be if he were the father.
Riley raised his beer in a cheer. “To redheads.”
Hawke clinked his bottle to Riley’s, both of them seated on the steps of Hawke and Sienna’s private cabin. While the place was meant to be off-limits to the rest of the pack, they’d realized they enjoyed inviting friends over at times.
“Wait,” Hawke said, before taking a sip. “Which redhead are we saluting? My redhead, Mercy, Faith, or your future spawn?”
“All of them.” Riley spread his arms expansively. “And I’ll thank you to call my spawn pups or cubs, or pupcubs.”
“Pupcubs.” Hawke mused. “I like it.”
From her chair on the porch, Mercy shook her head at Sienna. “The boys are drunk.”
Sienna was fascinated. “I’ve never seen Hawke drunk. Or Riley.”
“This,” Mercy said, her tone that of a wise teacher, “is celebratory drunkenness. Witnessed at times when men rejoice in their own prowess.”
Riley glanced over his shoulder to grin—actually grin—at Mercy. “I gave you multiple pupcubs. I have prowess.”
Eyes dancing, Mercy walked to sit behind him on a higher step, so he could lean against her chest. “Yes, you did, and yes, you do.”
Sienna realized she was grinning, and when Hawke shot her a wolfish smile, she couldn’t help but obey the silent order to sit with him as Mercy was doing with Riley. Later, the DarkRiver sentinel pulled her aside for a second. “These two are both hardheaded,” the other woman said, the words affectionate, “but after this much celebration, even his Alphaness will have a hangover. Be gentle.”
Sienna certainly didn’t have to be gentle that night—Hawke was in a mood, and oh her body liked it. With energy to burn and then some, he exhausted her into limp incoherence before tucking her possessively against him, nuzzling his face into her neck and falling asleep.
He didn’t move for eight hours.
Showered and dressed after she managed to wriggle out of his embrace by promising him all sorts of lavish things she wasn’t sure he heard, she sat down on the bed with a mug of coffee and brushed back his hair. One eye opened the merest slit. Closed. A groan sounded. “Shut the curtains.”
“They’re not open.” Given the unpredictable effect of alcohol on Psy abilities, she’d never been drunk, but she’d seen her friends in the condition, kept her voice to a whisper. “I have coffee.”
“Grr.” He refused to move.
Laughter bubbled in her chest. “It’s my special blend.” Breathing deep, she took a sip. “And you have a comm-conference in forty-five minutes.” He could do it from here, but he needed to be conscious for it.
“Tell Riley to handle it.” Spoken into his pillow.
“Riley was more drunk than you and is probably still comatose.” Putting the coffee on the bedside table, she snuggled back into bed beside him.
Eyes remaining closed, he flung an arm around her waist and hauled her against him. “I can hear you thinking.” Grumpy.
“What if when we do decide to have children, I only conceive one?”
Another slit of husky blue. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I just … Is it better to have twins or triplets?” He and Riley had been so delighted by the news. “We could ask the medics to ensure that.” Though, the leopards had been as overjoyed at Naya’s birth and she was a single baby.
Hawke closed his eye. “I love you, but I have a hangover and you’re talking crazy.”
She scowled. “I’m just trying to understand.”
Giving a deep, complaining groan, he opened both eyes. “How many makes no difference—me and Riley, we’d have gotten drunk sooner or later. He’s the first one of us to have a kid. Get it?”
Oh. “Like if it was Evie or Maria or someone else in my group.” She did get it. “It’s a milestone.”
“And it’s fucking hilarious that Riley, without whom the den would fall apart, is half terrified at the fact he’s about to become a father.”
“Only a best friend would find his nerves hilarious.”
“God you’re adorable, even when you’re talking loud enough to wake the dead.”
“I’m whispering,” she pointed out with another scowl, and, rubbing her hand against the bristles on his cheek, got up. “Drink this coffee or I’ll open the curtains.” Energetic and busy as he was, she’d never had to deal with him so surly in the morning—it was fun discovering this unexpected facet of his personality.
“Don’t give me orders. I’m the alpha.”
“I don’t care.”
“Come here.”
“Do I look like it’s my first time tangling with a wolf?” Reaching down, she pulled the sheet off him, exposing the nude length of his body, his skin golden even in the dim light.
Oh my.
Really, he had no right to be so gorgeous.
Painful as it was to turn her back on the delicious man in her bed, she went to the curtains. “You now have thirty-five minutes and these curtains are … open.”
No sound.
She turned to find he had a pillow over his head.
Laughing, she bounced onto the bed and kissed her way down his spine. “Fine,” she said, utterly in harmony with the world, “let’s stay in bed all day.”
“Teasing wench.” He got rid of the pillow. “Who am I comm conferencing with?”
“Selenka Durev in Moscow.” The two packs had an informal arrangement to share information, and this was a “touching base” kind of a chat. “You know how quick-tempered she is—she might take it as an insult if you’re late.” A kiss to his nape. “I’ll turn on the shower.” As she got out of bed and did so, she realized she was smiling. No matter his mood, there was no man she’d rather wake to find next to her.
When he walked into the shower and asked her to remind him of the points he was meant to go over during the comm-conference, she felt the tie between them grow deeper, more nuanced. He hadn’t asked her because she was a novice soldier. He’d asked her because she was his mate, and he needed the reminder. Just as he’d allowed her to see him hungover. A simple thing, a small vulnerability, but it meant everything coming from an alpha wolf.
IT was a terrifyingly happy week after that interlude by the pool that Adria found herself toe-to-toe with Riaz. “Don’t give me an ultimatum.” Martin had thrown too many of those at her during their years together, until even the hint of one made rage erupt in her bloodstream.
“It’s not an ultimatum,” Riaz said, his tone a silky threat. “It’s a warning. I’ve let the issue of shared quarters slide a hell of a lot longer than I should have. You’re mine. You live with me. End of story.”
Her wolf bristled. “It’s not an inevitability.” And it wasn’t as if they ever slept apart.
“Fuck that. If I wanted to live alone, I wouldn’t be in a relationship.” Twisting her braid in his hand, he held her in place. “So your thinking time has just run out.”
She dug her claws into his chest, saw him wince. “Let go or I’ll rip this T-shirt, too.”
Respect on his face. “I’ll let go … after this.” The kiss was hot and angry and refused to allow her any distance.
She was still growling in fury when she ran into Indigo not
long afterward. “Don’t ask,” she snapped the instant the other woman went to open her mouth. “Not when I saw you making kissy faces with Drew five seconds ago.”
Indigo held up her hands in surrender. “Hey, we fight. Drew just makes it damn hard to stay mad at him. Do you know what he did today?” She answered her question before Adria could respond. “He lined the dashboard of my vehicle with miniature teddy bears with sad faces. I mean, come on! Not fair.”
Adria laughed despite herself—because Indigo was holding one of those adorable tiny bears as she gesticulated. “You have it so tough, boo-hoo.”
Indigo mimed throwing the soft toy at her. “See? I never get any sympathy.” Tucking the bear into her jeans pocket, where it watched them mournfully, she said, “So?”
Adria shook her head. “I’m going for a run.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Go away,” she muttered. “I want to be alone.”
“Get over it. You’re in a pack.”
They ran in silence for over half an hour, ending up on a high mountain meadow dotted with wildflowers and huge broken rocks thrown around as if by a giant’s hands. Taking a seat on one of those rocks after quenching her thirst at a fragile waterfall hidden nearby, she said, “Sorry for being snippy.”
Indigo, seated on the ground with her back to the sun-warmed rock, reached over to pat her on the shin. “You’re allowed. What did Riaz do?”
“He’s demanding I move in with him.”
“Hardly surprising,” Indigo said, stretching out her legs. “He’s a wolf. Pack is everything, and his woman is where it begins.”
Those words again—his woman. “I made the decision to be with him,” Adria whispered, “but I never thought I’d fall so hard, so deep, until his name is written on parts of me Martin never touched.” It was the first time she’d consciously accepted that fact … and the fear that came with the knowledge. Martin had hurt her, but Riaz, he could savage her. “He does these things and they take my breath away, make my chest hurt.”
“What kind of things?”
