by Nalini Singh
She broke the intimate contact—though her body wanted to explore it, to roll the feel of his hard body around her—and turned. “I’ll talk to Sascha soon. Promise.”
Cool Psy eyes met hers. “I’ll be in the den if you need me.”
“Where did you go yesterday?” A tendril of remembered anger wormed its way to the surface.
“Somewhere safe.”
She frowned. “The den is safe.”
“Not for me.” Not when he was unconscious and unable to defend himself. “At least a percentage of the population believes I killed Timothy.”
“They’ll get over it.” She shifted her balance from one foot to the other, then back again before continuing. “I spoke to Marlee.”
He waited.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was being such a bitch about Tk-Psy. I swear I didn’t.” She swallowed but didn’t attempt to break eye contact. “There’s so much in my head that doesn’t make sense, like the way I went after Greg. I don’t even like the guy.”
Something dark in Judd reared its head at the mention of the other man. “See if Sascha and Faith have any new ideas about what might be happening. I’ll do some digging on my own.”
She thrust a hand through her hair. “I will. But the thing with Greg—”
“Don’t say his name in my hearing ever again.”
Brenna’s mouth dropped open. “You’re still furious.” Her voice was a whisper.
She was wrong. If he’d been furious, blood would be soaking these walls, the smell of human tissue thick in the air. “Make those calls.” He left before she could ask him any more questions. The answers might send her screaming.
Sascha turned to Lucas as they lay in bed, thinking over the call she’d received a few hours ago. “I’m worried about Brenna.”
“I thought you said she was recovering.” His arm came around her, urging her to sprawl over his chest.
“Pay attention.” But she was where he’d wanted her.
A satisfied cat smile. “I am. Tell me about the wolf.”
“I can’t. Confidentiality.”
His hand slipped over her naked bottom. “Bet I can make you talk.”
“It’s not playtime.” She nipped at his chin though the urge to purr was strong.
He moved his hand to her lower back, his version of behaving. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know what to do.” What Brenna had told her this evening—in particular the sudden changes in personality and behavior—was deeply troubling. “I’m worried I missed some of the damage in her psyche.” Her mind-healing abilities were still new to her, having been suppressed by Silence for most of her life. A lot of it was instinctive, but Brenna’s mind had been so badly torn apart. “Half the time, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Lucas’s arms tightened. “You brought her back. Don’t second-guess yourself now.”
“No,” she disagreed. “She brought herself back. Her will, Lucas, it’s like a steel flame, one that refuses to go out. Brenna should be dead right now.”
“If she survived Enrique, then she can survive her own mind.”
Sascha buried her face in the curve of Lucas’s neck, breathing in his scent. “I’m not sure. Faith told me that most F-Psy in the PsyNet eventually go mad, and they’re trained to deal with mental pressure. Brenna isn’t.”
Lucas’s hand passed over her back, long soothing strokes from her neck down to the curve of her bottom and back. A panther’s way of petting. “She might surprise you. She sure as hell surprised Hawke with her latest stunt—I had a chat with him about the hyena situation.” His anger that someone had dared touch their cubs put a hard edge in his voice, but right then, there was also a touch of predatory amusement.
She knew it had to be caused by Hawke’s apparent problems with Brenna—the two alphas hadn’t really learned to play nice with each other yet. “What did she do?”
“She’s hooked up with the damn Psy.”
Sascha snapped up her head. “Judd? Brenna’s with Judd Lauren?”
Her cat licked at her exposed neck. “You smell good.”
Sascha tried to keep thinking. “But he’s so cold.”
“We changelings have ways of thawing out you Psy.”
Sascha could hardly argue with her own body melting. But even as she gave in to her cat, a part of her worried. Something was very wrong with Brenna, and Judd Lauren’s icy reserve might only exacerbate the problem—he couldn’t give the changeling woman what she needed to heal herself. Touch. Warmth. Unwavering affection.
CHAPTER 20
Judd dreamed of killing again, of seeing his hands dipped in blood. Red. The blood was red in the otherwise monochrome landscape. That was when he realized he held Brenna’s dying heart in his hands. It was beating, a pulsing accusation of what he’d done.
He wrenched himself awake, sending out a telepathic scan at the same instant. He found Brenna far faster than he should’ve been able to. She was safe. Asleep. But that was no longer an option for him. Getting up, he began doing pull-ups using the metal exercise bar bolted to the walls.
By the time the clock signaled dawn, he’d pushed himself to straining point. Judging that Brenna would be awake, he called her.
“What?” a sleepy voice answered.
“Did you talk to Sascha?”
She turned on the visual and he saw that her face was soft with sleep. It made the hunger in him twist, its claws raking down his insides—as if he had a beast within him, too. He’d spent hours last night restoring the fractures in his conditioning. It should be holding. But the second he saw her, he realized there was a major flaw he hadn’t yet found, a hidden source of subversive emotion.
“Yes, sir, Judd, sir.” A small smile. “She’s coming up today to see me.”
He heard the reluctance in her tone. “Do you—”
“No.” Sharp. “I’ll be fine alone. See you tonight?”
“I’ll be in the den.” Switching off the comm, he had a shower and then decided to work off his excess energy by checking in with Sienna. His eldest niece’s abilities were developing at a rapid pace—if he and Walker didn’t manage to teach her some control, there was going to be real trouble down the road. The problem was that, as with Judd, the telepathy everyone knew about was only her secondary talent. Her true strength was something so volatile, even Psy steered clear of those who had it.
Since Sienna was in an unusually cooperative mood, the session went well. He was returning from it midmorning—after a short detour—when a small naked body barreled into him in one of the main corridors. Steadying the boy with Tk, he looked down. The child lifted a finger to his lips. “Shh. I’m hiding.” With that, he went behind Judd and scrambled into a small alcove. “Quickly!”
Not sure why he obeyed the order, Judd backed up to stand in front of the alcove, arms crossed. A flustered Lara came running around the corner a few seconds later. “Have you seen Ben? Four-year-old. Naked as a jaybird.”
“How tall is he?” Judd asked in his most overbearing Psy manner.
Lara stared. “He’s four. How tall do you think he is? Have you seen him or not?”
“Let me think…did you say he was naked?”
“He was about to be bathed. Slippery little monkey.”
A giggle from behind Judd.
Lara’s eyes widened and then her lips twitched. “So you haven’t seen him?”
“Without a proper description, I can’t be sure.”
The healer was obviously trying not to laugh. “You shouldn’t encourage him—he’s incorrigible as it is.”
Judd felt childish hands on his left calf and then Ben poked his head out. “I’m incorwigeable, did ya hear?”
Judd nodded. “I do believe you’ve been found. Why don’t you go have your bath?”
“Come on, munchkin.” Lara held out a hand.
Surprisingly strong baby arms and legs wrapped around Judd’s leg. “No. I wanna stay with Uncle Judd.”
Lara anticipated h
is question. “Ben spends a lot of time with Marlee.”
“I spend a lot of time with Marlee,” a small voice piped up.
Judd glanced down. “Are you sure he’s wolf? Sounds more like a parrot to me.”
Ben’s face clouded. “Am so a wolf!” Letting go of Judd, the child shifted in a shower of multicolored sparks. Judd held his breath until a small wolf began trying to climb up his body. Ben’s progress was hindered by the fact that he wasn’t using his claws.
Bending, Judd picked him up and held him against his chest, unable to explain his own behavior. “He isn’t clawed.”
“Of course not,” Lara said. “It’s the first rule we teach them—no claws during play. Can you imagine the carnage otherwise?”
“Logical.” The pup was batting at his chest, a warm live weight.
“That’s why Tai is so embarrassed he went clawed.”
Judd had already put the incident out of his mind. “We weren’t playing. Claws were never an issue.”
“Not for you. But they were for him.” Lara blew out a breath between pursed lips. “He didn’t mean to do it. He lost control like a child. I take it he hasn’t apologized yet?”
“There’s no need.” Judd caught Ben as he slipped, holding the cub more firmly against him.
“Take my advice,” the healer offered, “if the kid works up the guts to apologize, let him. It’ll make him feel better.”
“Alright.”
“Ben.” Lara’s tone tried for harshness, but it was patent that she was charmed by her tiny charge. “Let’s get going.”
Ben’s response was to growl and bury his head against Judd’s chest.
“Do you want to spend the rest of the day in the Pen?”
Judd knew the Pen to be a fenced space inside the nursery bereft of toys. As a punishment, it seemed to work very well. It did this time, too. Ben wriggled and then shifted without warning. Reacting instinctively, Judd threw a Tk shield around the entire shimmer, keeping his hands exactly where they had been before the boy began to change.
Ben’s weight hit his hands a split second later and the boy twisted to hold out his arms to the healer. “Do I gotta be clean?”
Taking him, Lara planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. “Yes, you do, my little escape artist.” In her embrace, Ben giggled and turned his head for another kiss.
“Lara,” Judd said when the healer turned to leave.
She raised an eyebrow.
“What would’ve happened if I’d moved and disrupted—” He didn’t want to say the words in case they had a negative impact on the child.
“Don’t worry.” Lara stroked one hand over Ben’s head as he laid it on her shoulder. “The process isn’t that easily messed up. Otherwise the Psy would’ve taken advantage of the weakness by now.” She seemed to have forgotten she was talking to one of the same race. “An extremely big disruption can cause errors in a shift. Most can be corrected—so long as it’s not a major part of the brain that’s compromised.”
“But to shift near someone implies a relationship of trust.”
Lara smiled. “I guess Marlee must like her uncle Judd a whole lot.”
“Only she likes her dad more,” Ben said in a stage whisper.
“Oh, well”—Lara winked—“second’s not so bad. ’Bye, Judd.”
Judd found himself raising his hand in response to the wave Ben gave him over her shoulder. He was still standing there trying to process the extraordinary encounter when D’Arn passed him.
The soldier stopped, then retraced his steps. “Let me guess—a woman or a pup.”
“How did you know?”
“Not much else puts that look on a man’s face.” He grinned. “Me and a few of the others are going out to play some training war games. Want to come? Release the tension, you know—everyone’s thinking about Tim. He was no prize, but he didn’t deserve to be murdered. And now this thing with the hyenas.”
“Any progress there?” If he’d thought the hyenas had targeted Brenna on purpose, he would’ve gone hunting himself. However—and though he could find no cogent reason for that suspicion—his instincts said that Timothy’s murderer was the real threat. Even revisiting the scene this morning after speaking with Sienna hadn’t clarified things. He had the unwelcome sense he was missing something.
“Some. We’ve got a bead on the bloody scavengers, but they don’t need all of us today.” D’Arn shook his head in a curiously canine gesture. “Anyway, you in?”
He nodded. Brenna was safe in the den and he had no surveillance work lined up. It might be that a hard physical workout was what he needed to clear up his brain so he could connect the dots he knew were there. “Rules?”
The other man began walking. “Human form. Drew’s going to hand out laser badges. A hit with a laser rifle will register from anywhere on your body and list itself as a slight injury, a debilitating one, loss of eyesight—you get the drill.” He pushed open a door.
“Teams?” Judd had played similar military games both in psychic and physical terms. An Arrow who wasn’t a shadow didn’t survive long.
“Two.” He pushed through an exit. “Psy and human/changeling.”
“Psy?” Judd asked as they made their way out of the White Zone.
“If you’re not Psy, you have to hit the target in the back.” He scowled. “Against all the rules of normal fighting, but if a Psy sees you coming during the game, you’re automatically dead. No second chances.”
Judd agreed—because while Psy couldn’t manipulate changeling minds without massive effort, they could kill with a single focused blow. “You have human soldiers?” He had his Psy abilities to compensate for the changelings’ advantages in terms of speed, sensory input, and physical strength. Humans, by that reckoning, had nothing. “People who have mated in?”
D’Arn shook his head. “Not all. Saul’s ex-navy. He mated in. But Kieran was adopted as a child. Sing-Liu you’ve met.”
Judd had never guessed that the small female with the flat eyes of a fellow assassin was human. She moved more like the DarkRiver cats. “Martial arts?”
“Nope. Our little China Doll likes knives.” D’Arn had barely gotten the words out when a knife whistled incredibly close to his ear and thunked home in a tree. Instead of going on alert, D’Arn laughed and threw up his hands. “I was kidding, honey.”
Sing-Liu materialized from their right. “One of these days,” she threatened, striding over, “you’re going to push me too far. And then I’ll have to make you eat your words.”
The SnowDancer male retrieved the knife he’d dodged and held it to his side. “Promise? Will it involve kinky things with rope and knives? Please?”
Judd wondered if D’Arn had a death wish. But then Sing-Liu laughed and kissed the soldier, eyes turning from assassin to pure seductive woman. Unexpected was not the word for it.
“Mated pair.” The words came from Drew, who’d just walked up. “China Doll’s a nickname. She doesn’t mind—use it if you like.”
“And get a knife in my back,” Judd said, his Psy brain comparing D’Arn’s behavior with Sing-Liu to his own with Brenna. It didn’t take a genius to tell him he wasn’t giving his wolf anything close to what she needed. “I think I’ll pass.”
“I had to try.” Drew shrugged. “On to the games.” His smile was distinctly savage.
Judd was more than ready, the tension in him wound to a fever pitch. “Let’s play.”
Brenna had been looking for Judd for twenty minutes without success. Sascha had just left after several hours of talk. The empath hadn’t been able to give Brenna any answers but had convinced her that she didn’t “smell” insane. Now she wanted to share her relief with Judd, wanted to tell him that the violent woman who’d shredded his skin yesterday had been an aberration…even if she didn’t quite believe it herself.
“Lucy”—she stopped her friend in the corridor near Hawke’s office—“you seen tall, dark, and silent?”
“Which one?” the other
woman deadpanned. “Your one’s playing war games with Andrew and some others.”
Bren felt her face pale. “What?”
“Don’t worry,” Lucy called out as she headed off. “He’s a big boy.”
But Drew was bloodthirsty, especially with men who dared be involved with his baby sister. And after the way Judd had faced him down yesterday…“Calm, be calm,” she told herself. “He’s Psy. A very strong Psy.” Oh, God. What if Judd killed Drew?
She thrust a hand through her hair. Inspiration struck. She could either go mad worrying or…Turning on her heel, she ran after Lucy. Her friend smiled and opened her mouth to speak.
Something crashed in Hawke’s office. They both looked up as the door was wrenched open and Sienna Lauren came striding out. The door slammed shut after her, as if it had been kicked. The seventeen-year-old didn’t see them—she was heading in the opposite direction, head down, fists clenched.
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “That one doesn’t act Psy, does she?”
“No.” Brenna thought about going after the clearly upset girl, but Sienna didn’t know her and would probably not welcome the interference.
“Not like your one. That man is pure ice. Sexy ice but still ice.”
Brenna had a moment’s pause. “How do you know we’re involved?”
Lucy’s laugh was open and honest. “Did you hit your head or something, Bren? You smell like him, silly.”
“Oh.” But she shouldn’t, not that deep. A scent layer only grew ingrained—unable to be washed off—between lovers. Something she’d never become with Judd if he got himself executed for killi—Stop! “Lucy, I need a favor. Can you get access to a vehicle?”
“Sure. So can you.”
“Not without Riley finding out. Um, I’m kind of under den arrest.” She was going to break the rules, but she wasn’t going to be stupid about it.
“Riley’s got some burr under his bonnet,” Lucy muttered. “He chewed me out yesterday for nothing. I’ll sneak you out and it’ll be my pleasure. Where are we going?”
“Miss Leozandra’s Beauty Parlor.” Smack bang in the middle of Chinatown.
