by Nalini Singh
Grandmother, she said, I'm awake and at full psychic strength. I do feel a certain physical weakness that may take longer to conquer.
Her grandmother responded immediately. The doctors said it could take up to three days. The lab has finished analyzing the poison. It's something new, designed to debilitate rather than kill. Had you not received immediate medical attention even after only half a glass, you wouldn't have died. You'd have been left a vegetable.
I see. That, too, spoke to their enemy's aims. It wasn't just about taking me out. It was about making me--and by extension, the family--appear weak.
As Alpha Nikolaev pointed out to me, you are EmNet, Silver. And EmNet is the most visible face of Trinity.
Silver nodded, though no one could see her, the action a subtle breach of Silence that she noted with the periphery of her mind. Make me weak, make EmNet appear weak, hit it hard while it's not rooted enough to recover quickly from the setback. It made a ruthless kind of sense. A dead director could be replaced, but one that was lingering, weak and mindless? The psychological damage would be severe.
Think about the implications of that, her grandmother said. Your brother is assisting me.
Yes, Grandmother.
After ending the conversation, Silver had to sit to get her breath back.
Her psychic and physical reserves were very low. She needed fuel.
Shifting priorities, she lifted the lid off the covered tray. No nutrition bars or nutrient drinks, but she recognized the flatbread as one she'd eaten during a long work session in another region. It was created of lentils and was deeply nutritious while not overwhelming to her taste buds.
Alongside sat a bowl of what appeared to be a dip.
She tore the flatbread into small pieces, used it to try the dip. Not a strong taste, but it appeared nutritious. And if Valentin had wanted her permanently incapacitated, all he would've had to do was leave her on the floor of her apartment. The deliberately obdurate bear had also been sending her unexpected and inexplicable gifts of food for months.
Whenever she asked him to stop, he grinned and pretended he had no idea of the identity of her "anonymous admirer with the exceptional taste in food." All the while, they both knew he was responsible for the red velvet cake, the flavored nutrition bars, the individually wrapped nashi pears, the gourmet dinners delivered hot from a restaurant close to her office, and more. The last cake, a dark raspberry, had been accompanied by a card that named her admirer as Mr. I. M. A. Medvezhonok.
Mr. I'm a Teddy Bear.
Silver finished everything on the tray, including the two squares of dark chocolate that were bitter rather than sweet. She also drank the full bottle of water. Her body absorbed it all, her psychic abilities burning up far more energy than most people realized. She'd be hungry again in about two hours. Usually it'd take longer than that, but her healing body also needed fuel.
She waited ten minutes to let the food settle before she entered the shower.
Once clean, she dressed and ran a brush through her hair, having found the wood-handled item in a basket of toiletries in the bathroom. There was no dryer, but Silver had no intention of walking out with her hair down. It wasn't about image, but about establishing strength--more important than ever in the middle of a predatory changeling clan known for its brash nature. Especially since she'd been carried in unconscious.
Sweeping up her damp hair, she fashioned it into a knot at her nape. She would let it down to dry once she was back in her room. That done, she opened the cosmetic pack she'd also found on the bathroom counter.
It proved to hold the correct items for her skin tone.
She used mascara and a gloss. Again, it was part of her armor. Silver Mercant was never seen with a hair out of place. She woke up with a face like a "robot that would kill you while looking good doing it."
That particular quote was from a newspaper article written by a human.
Hyperbolic, but the description was apt.
Silver did not want to look approachable or "human"--she wanted to be robotic perfection, a woman no one dared to cross. People didn't try to harm robots. So clearly, she needed to work on that, since someone had attempted to do exactly that.
She'd just realized that while she'd found socks, she'd located no footwear, when there was a light knock on her door. It wasn't Valentin. She was fairly certain he didn't believe in the concept of a quiet knock--or wasn't physically capable of it. Valentin Nikolaev did everything with the hugeness of the bear inside him.
The knock came a second time, just as light.
Chapter 10
There is no heart more generous than that of a bear changeling.
--The Traveler's Guide to Changelings (Revised Edition: 1897)
CROSSING THE STONE floor barefoot, Silver unlocked the door with her psychic senses at high alert. The person on the other side proved to be a tall, curvy woman with shining black curls styled to perfection and flawless makeup, her dark brown eyes thickly lashed and her lips a pop of rich red that matched the red cherries on her black dress. That black dress had a full skirt and a fitted top with a wide shallow neckline that showed off the smooth honey-dark skin of her toned shoulders.
On the woman's feet were strappy red shoes with two-inch heels.
"Hi! I thought you might be awake." A beaming smile. "I'm Nova, the clan's healer."
"You're also Alpha Nikolaev's sister." It'd be obvious even had she not known anything about Valentin's siblings; the two shared a striking similarity of features, though what was hard and rough edged on Valentin was more an arresting elegance in Nova. No one would ever term her "pretty." She was too uniquely beautiful for that.
"His older--but not eldest--sister," Nova said. "Can I come in?" She stepped inside without waiting for an answer.
Silver could've stopped her, but being rude to one's hosts was not how she'd been raised. "Am I wearing your jeans?"
"Bozhe moi, no!" Deep laughter. "Can you see these childbearing hips, as proudly described by my babushka, fitting into those skinny things?" She winked, ebony lashes coming down over one dark eye. "No, those are Moonbeam's. Her parents are a little dippy, but Moon owns that name." Having hauled in two large bags with her, Nova took several small boxes out of the bags while continuing to speak so fast that Silver could have no hope of interrupting.
"But," Nova said, "while Moon has the skinny hips, I have the best taste in shoes in this entire clan and I think we're the same size." A minute pause before Nova gave a pained sigh. "Okay, okay, your babushka did send some shoes, but I will only give them to you so you don't have to lie to your grandmother about receiving them. You have to promise not to wear them."
"Is there a reason for your aversion?"
"The shoes are black and flat and sensible." Nova shuddered. "Silver Mercant does not wear sensible shoes, though I bet your shoes are always comfortable."
"Yes, they are." Silver wore spike heels because it was part of the impression she wanted to project, but those heels were custom-made to ensure they never compromised her balance or ability to work.
"I knew you were a woman after my own heart." Nova whipped out a scanner from her pocket, ran it over Silver's chest area, frowned but put the scanner back, and focused on the shoes once again. "I mean, after I saw those photographs of you."
"Photographs?"
"Oh, you know we spy on you and Krychek just like we spy on the wolves and you spy on us and the wolves." Laughter rippled through Nova's words. "Have to know the other predators in the area, right?"
Intriguing that the bears considered her a predator. They weren't wrong, but most people tended to see only Kaleb, disregarding Silver as nothing but an efficient administrator. "You've brought a lot of shoes."
"Ten pairs, and that's not even scratching the surface of my collection. So if you want to borrow all of them, you can."
"Thank you." Silver ran her eyes over the various pairs on display. "While the heels would normally be my choice, it appears I'll have to n
avigate uneven floors. I'm not practiced at walking in heels on such a surface."
Nova nodded. "Yes, the floors are wobbly all over Denhome. I'm told that big, strong bears don't like anything too civilized." She made a face. "No one listens to my opinion on that, not even Stasya! She told me to start wearing practical shoes."
Hands fisted, Nova pressed them against her hips, her arms akimbo. "Nova Nikolaev does not do practical shoes. I fell flat on my ass more than once when I first started practicing with heels at fourteen. Valentin laughed his ass off until I dared him to put on a pair and race me. You should've seen the fall he took."
Momentarily diverted by the idea of Valentin wearing heels--even as a boy--Silver had to force herself to return to the matter at hand. "I think I should stick to more stable shoes for the time being."
"Don't even think about the sensible shoes," Nova warned. "Try these little black half boots instead. They're comfortable, cute, and they go with pretty much any outfit."
Since Silver had already decided on those as her first choice should they fit, she sat on the bed and, pulling on a pair of thin ankle socks, slipped on the boots. When she stood to walk on them, she found the fit near enough to her size as not to matter. "These are excellent. Thank you."
Nova waved off her gratitude with a smile. "I have an ankle-boot addiction," she admitted. "Eight pairs at last count, three of them black. Anyway, I think you should have a pair of sneakers as well."
Silver didn't usually wear sneakers, but she wasn't usually in a bear clan, either. "Thank you, I'll try the . . ." She looked between the sparkly blue ones with white glittery moons and stars and the nonsparkly ones with a colorful tropical print.
Nova's laugh was almost as big and warm as Valentin's. "Don't worry, I'm just teasing you. Here." She pulled out a pair of simple canvas shoes from a bag, the color a solid dark blue. "You should watch for that, you know. We're terrible at making fun of one another. Nothing mean, though." The last was said very seriously, her following question without judgment. "As a Psy, do you understand jokes and teasing?"
"I understand the concept of jokes," Silver said as she changed out of the half boots and into the canvas sneakers. "I don't understand teasing. What's the point?"
"The point is watching Valentin turn red every time I bring up the fact he once wore pink heels and fell on his butt."
"Pink heels?" Silver said before she could censor her words.
"Well, if I was going to make my already nearly six-foot-tall baby brother wear a pair of heels, I wasn't going to choose black, was I?" Nova's eyes danced. "I was also definitely going to get photographic evidence for blackmail purposes in the future."
"Do you still have it? The blackmail material?"
"Why?"
"Because I may have need of it," Silver said, putting the half boots back on after confirming the canvas shoes were a good fit. "Your brother doesn't appear to listen to the word 'no.'"
A rumbling sound from Nova that had Silver coming to full psychic and physical alertness. "You're angry."
Nova's eyes were no longer brown but a pale glowing amber. "My brother has never taken any woman without permission."
"I'm not talking about sexual consent. I'm Psy. I don't have sex."
Nova's mouth fell open, amber sliding to dark brown so fast that Silver didn't catch the transition.
Collapsing next to Silver on the bed, the healer whispered, "Never? Ever?"
"Never. Ever."
"It's true then. The Psy reproduce only by scientific methods?"
"That's likely to change post-Silence, but to date, yes."
"Man." Nova blew out a breath, shook her head. "Man."
"It's simply another form of exercise." Silver had never had the chance to discuss this topic with someone from the emotional races--it was an aspect of changeling and human interaction that continued to escape her understanding. She'd previously predicted certain behavior, had her predictions fail spectacularly when sex was added into the mix.
"Seelichka, if you think that . . ." Nova patted her on the shoulder.
It took Silver a second to realize Nova had softened her name into an affectionate form. Like Valentin did when he called her "Starlichka"--though "Starlight" wasn't her name, either. Only Valentin ever called her that. She wondered what his friends and family called him. "Valya" would be her guess.
"Can you tell me why I'm wrong?" she asked after realizing she'd been distracted into being silent for too long. "About sex?"
Nova lifted her eyebrows. "I can't really explain sex, except to say the best is with someone who knows you, someone you can laugh with." A soft smile. "We don't say 'sex,' by the way," she added. "We call any touch exchanged between two people who want it 'skin privileges.'"
"I've heard of the concept." Had been working with EmNet long enough to pick up certain nuances of changeling behavior. "You consider it a gift to be permitted physical contact." It was a subtle complexity in the tactile nature of the changeling race.
Nova nodded. "Touch ties a clan together--and so it can never be taken for granted. Though, of course, we don't go around asking permission vocally all the time--like I just touched your shoulder. I wouldn't have done that if you'd pulled even subtly away."
It was Silver's turn to nod. "Communication isn't always vocal." As a telepath, she knew that better than anyone. That changelings were as fluent in body language made perfect sense to her. It also brought home that she was in an environment where she was the outsider. "Would you have the time to show me around Denhome?"
"Sure, but first, if you weren't talking about sexual consent, what did you mean about my brother?" Nova put the fingers of one hand on Silver's neck, having telegraphed her intent by raising a hand in that direction after they both got to their feet.
Silver allowed the healer to take her pulse, breathed in and out when Nova removed a small sensor from her endless pockets and placed it on Silver's chest after asking her to undo two buttons on her shirt. "I've told Valentin not to come to my door to drop off things, but he does it constantly," she said once Nova had removed the sensor. "I tell him not to send me random items of food in the guise of a secret admirer named Mr. I. M. A. Medvezhonok--"
Nova snorted out laughing. "Sorry, sorry! I can just see Mishka doing that! O Bozhe! Mr. I. M. A. Medvezhonok!" Wiping away her tears, Nova smiled. "Look, all that's just dominant bear behavior. You have to push back, and I think you're quite capable of that. My brother would never pull anything like that with a woman who couldn't hold her own. Only an equal."
An equal.
"I'll show you around. As long as you don't overdo it," Nova said as Silver processed the fact that one of the two most powerful changeling alphas in Russia saw her as exactly what she was--a predator as dangerous as himself.
"I won't attempt more than my body can handle," Silver promised Nova when the healer looked to her for an answer. "It'll only cause further delays in my recovery."
Nova clapped a hand to her chest. "A sensible patient. I might die of a cardiac infarction."
"Please don't. You're the first rational bear I've met."
"Oh, I like you, Silver Mercant." Sparkling eyes. "Come on then." She reached out as if to hook her arm through Silver's, halted midmove. "No?"
"No." All Psy were trained to avoid physical contact unless it was impossible; in Silver's case, it also helped keep telepathic interference at bay. Though she couldn't read changelings, all sentient beings had a surface layer of thoughts that caused a formless buzz in her head.
Contact with one person, even a small group, wouldn't be painful or detrimental to her psychic reserves, but there was a tipping point. Extreme telepathic sensitivity was one of the disadvantages of being a high-Gradient pure telepath. Those of her designation kept that piece of information well under wraps; it was a vulnerability that had, once upon a time, been used to torture pure telepaths.
Just put them in a room with too many people and have those people touch the Psy continuously. At
the same time, refuse to give the telepath any food to refuel his or her energy. Sooner or later, the pure telepath would run out of the psychic strength necessary to maintain his or her shields.
It was simpler and safer to avoid all contact.
"Okay." Nova opened the door to Silver's room and the two of them stepped out into the hallway. "From here you turn left to head toward the Cavern. No way to miss it. Turn right and you'll end up in the residential section on this side of Denhome."
Voices drifted down the hallway, followed by three large juveniles. Spotting Nova, they called her name while looking at Silver with wildly inquisitive eyes. Before they could utter the questions they'd parted their mouths to ask, however, Nova gave them a quelling look.
Scrunching up their faces, the trio, every one of whom outweighed Nova by at least fifty pounds, passed in silence.
"That was impressive."
"Healer," was Nova's response. "Unfortunately, the look doesn't work as well on nosy adults. The last time I tried it, Pasha and Yasha picked me up and threw me from one to the other until I threatened to doctor their food with a stomach virus." The other woman gave an exasperated sigh. "Bears."
Silver barely heard her, having not expected the massive cavern into which Nova had led her. The ceiling soared high above, the area lit by the haze of early morning to reveal a fresh body of water in the distance, while around her, vines with tiny green flowers wove their way over the rock.
"Does your entire clan live in this complex?" Because it was a complex--Denhome might appear rustic, literally a hole in a mountain, but she'd already noted the thread-fine wires high up on the walls interspersed with nearly invisible silver "buttons."
Data connections. Signal boosters.
All on the cutting edge of technology.
"A lot of us do live here," Nova said after a small hesitation. "Bears aren't as much for roaming as a lot of the other predatory changelings, but we do get a few--like my younger sister, Nika--who want to go out." A fond smile. "And with all our business interests, there are smaller groups scattered here and there."
