by Nalini Singh
“Let’s discuss it tonight.” She left without a backward look.
Henry checked his calendar and began the return journey to the archives.
The part of him that was Sascha rose sluggishly to the surface, prodded awake by the recall of her earlier near-trapping in the vault. It took her precious seconds to realize her own consciousness. She’d come perilously close to losing herself in Henry. Detaching from him before he reached the vault was imperative but she had to separate as softly as she’d merged.
So she waited. They were almost to the vault when they passed a guard with a sloppy alarm system. She flowed from Henry to the guard’s shadow. When the man completed his circular route and reached the outer level of the restricted zone, she flowed onto another guard. Step-shadowing her way back to her own mind took over three hours in real time because she was tired, exhausted by the extended immersion in another’s consciousness.
At long last, she slipped back around her firewall and released the gathered information into her mind. It was like letting go of a data bomb loaded with shrapnel. Her eyes opened with a snap and she collapsed backward on the bed, her heart racing at a thousand beats per second. There was too much new information in her mind. She let it process while she lay there staring at the ceiling and thinking she was starving.
A look at her watch confirmed it was well past dinnertime. Groaning, she went to the console and checked for messages. There was one from Lucas. He looked very much like the predator he was, the lines on his face vivid against the golden heat of his skin. “Ms. Duncan. If you could spare some time this evening I’d like to discuss a matter to do with the design change. I’ll be at our earlier meeting place.” The message ended.
No one eavesdropping would’ve given it a second thought. Businesspeople left vague messages like that all the time. Only she saw the worry in those cat-green eyes, only she knew he’d called after she hadn’t gotten back in touch within a reasonable amount of time, only she ached to go to him.
A glance in the mirror showed her appearance to be completely acceptable. No one looking at her would’ve guessed at the turmoil inside. Decision made, she went to the console to return the call but changed her mind. No use alerting anyone who was watching her as to her whereabouts. Her heart twisted at the thought of Lucas worrying but she knew he’d have told her to do exactly what she was doing.
She changed out of the relaxed clothing she’d been wearing and into a severe black pantsuit and white shirt. It was the uniform of the Psy and she couldn’t afford to stand out. So armed, she walked out. And almost ran face-first into Enrique. If she hadn’t spent a lifetime keeping secrets, the shock might’ve made her shell crack.
“Councilor. How can I help you?” She closed the door behind her. It was a subtle hint.
His dark eyes ran over her clothing. “A late meeting?”
“Yes.” Meetings after nine weren’t anything unusual.
“I’d like to talk to you. Now would be a good time.” It was an order couched as a request.
“Mother wouldn’t take it kindly if I missed this engagement.” No matter how close Nikita and Enrique were over Council matters, Sascha’s mother had no allies for whom she’d sacrifice money and power.
The white stars in his eyes flickered in a way she found disturbing. “Don’t be too quick to turn down an offer of advancement.”
She’d thought he’d given up holding out that lure to her. How stupid did he think she was? “What are you offering?” she asked instead of laughing in his face.
“That’s what I want to discuss. We can do it in private in your quarters.”
The hairs on her arms rose. It wasn’t unknown for older Psy to poach talent from other families, but there was something fundamentally wrong about Enrique’s offer. He was too eager to get her alone. And she was terrified she knew the reason why. “As I said, Councilor, I must decline.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to be leaving if I’m to be on time.”
He inclined his head and moved out of her way. “You’d do well to make time for me, Sascha. Most young cardinals would die to be in your position.”
Death was exactly what she was afraid he was offering. “Sir.” She kept her tone formal but the single word was a good-bye. She could feel his eyes on her back the entire length of the corridor. He knew something; he could obviously smell the flaw in her and was determined to expose it.
What she couldn’t understand was why he was giving her so much attention at a time when the Council was concentrating on finding out the serial’s identity. Was it possible he suspected her of being in league with the changelings?
As she entered the elevator and turned to face the closing doors, she saw him staring back at her across the distance. Belatedly, she remembered that Enrique was considered the best territorial strategician in the PsyNet.
He was a master at setting traps.
Lucas had almost scored grooves in the floor with his prowling. It was past ten at night—where was Sascha? If anyone had dared to harm her, he’d gut them with his bare claws. Someone moved behind him. “What is it, Nate?”
“Everyone’s safe. Cubs, maternal females, and the elderly or injured have all been moved. I’ve told the sentinels, soldiers, and the older juveniles that the next alert means war.”
Lucas had given that order after Sascha had woken from her unconscious state. “What’s the mood of the pack?”
“No one’s comfortable with a Psy being privy to our safe house but they’ll back you whatever you decide.” He put one hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “You’ve earned their loyalty. They’ll follow you into hell if you ask it.”
Lucas turned and looked into the other man’s face. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” At that moment, every instinct he had flared bright red. “She’s here.” Pushing past Nate, he ran out the back door just as Sascha’s car came to a smooth stop behind the house.
She exited, looking as cold as a statue. Except he’d seen inside that stone mask. Aware that this area was safe from prying eyes, he went to her and hauled her into his arms. She stiffened and then hesitantly returned the hug. “I was very careful. No one followed me here.”
“We can talk inside.” He pulled away to tug her into the house—where he and his pack could keep her safe.
Dorian and Kit had run into the room as he’d exited and now they stood there with Tamsyn and Nate. Despite having seen Sascha before, all the males seemed shocked at the embrace they’d witnessed. Ignoring them for now, Lucas sat Sascha down in a chair, able to feel her tiredness.
To his surprise, she looked around for Tamsyn. “I’m sorry but I’m very hungry.”
The healer grinned. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Let me get you something.”
“Thank you.” She turned back to him.
He’d taken a chair to her left and moved it so it faced her. “Dorian. Kit.” The command was apparent. Following Nate’s lead, they took sentinel positions around the room. “Who’s on the outside?”
“Clay, Mercy, and Barker. Rina and Vaughn are patrolling the outer perimeter.” Now that the other safe houses were empty, the sentinels had gathered here.
“Kit. Go and replace Mercy.”
The juvenile looked like he wanted to argue but he must’ve seen the implacability in Lucas’s eyes. Without a word, he left. A minute later, Mercy entered and took his position. This was a matter for adults, not children, and no matter how grown up he looked, Kit was still considered a cub. He’d been allowed to stay behind but would never be asked to fight except as a last resort.
Taking Sascha’s hand in his, he met her eyes. “Eat first.”
Tamsyn put a plate of sandwiches in front of her. She refused to let go of his hand as she picked them up one by one and demolished them. The chocolate cookies went the same way, as did the glass of milk. There was such bliss on her face after each bite that he wondered what she’d do when he lavished real pleasure on her, something he had every intention of doing.
“
More?” Tamsyn asked, clearing away the dishes.
“No. Thank you. I… like your food.” Coming from a Psy, it was a wild declaration.
“My kitchen is always open.”
Sascha looked like she wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how to pull it off. “I hacked the PsyNet.”
Everyone went silent.
“Tell us what that means, Sascha.” His heart was breaking at the pain he could feel coming off her. The waves of sorrow were so deep, he wondered that they didn’t kill her.
“I could never talk about it before,” she said, reminding him of his earlier attempts to get her to share information. “But now I can. I wonder if that means my mind’s deteriorated so much that the blocks no longer hold.”
“You just broke into the most secure information network in the world—your mind is fine.” He frowned when she didn’t seem to hear him.
“The PsyNet is like your Internet, except it’s made up of minds, not computers,” she said, instead of responding. “Most of it is public but there are hidden nodes of classified information. I obtained access to those restricted parts.” It sounded so cool and practical but he knew it had to have been anything but.
“What would’ve happened if you’d been found?”
She met his eyes. “I would’ve been executed.”
“You didn’t tell us that.” He was furious with her, so angry that he wanted to haul her to his lair and let the primitive in him take over. A growl threatened at the back of his throat.
“I didn’t think it was relevant.” She sounded so Psy that no one who hadn’t been watching her eyes would’ve guessed at the depth of fear she must’ve experienced. “I learned more than we could’ve hoped for.”
CHAPTER 17
“Who is it?” He hadn’t forgotten her recklessness.
They’d discuss it privately. And he’d teach his Psy that when it came to Pack, one member’s life was very much relevant.
“They don’t know the identity of the killer.”
Dorian made a sound of anguish. A flare of Psy energy lit up Lucas’s senses and when it flared back down, Dorian was calmer but no less frustrated.
“They’ve set a trap.” She tightened her hand. “I could link into the PsyNet and shadow them until they know.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How long?”
“Not very—the trap will spring the second he kills.”
“That could take days. Can you survive being buried that long?” He was starting to get a glimmer of how the Net worked. “You’re exhausted from what you did today and that was what—simply for a few hours?”
She flinched. “I’m strong enough. I’m a cardinal.”
There was something broken about her statement but he knew this wasn’t the place to pursue it. He’d gentle the truth out of her in private.
“If we don’t find her before she dies, the SnowDancers won’t accept only the killer’s blood in recompense.” Dorian was staring at the back of Sascha’s head as if he wanted to see through to her mind.
“I know.” Sascha nodded. “I have an idea to expedite the process.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“The killer is a predator with very fixed needs—his women are all of a certain type and, according to the Council’s research, he’s compulsive. I think if we give him a wide-open target, he won’t be able to resist going after it. And the trap will spring without Brenna’s death.”
“How do we set the trap when we don’t know where he is?” Nate asked.
Lucas knew the answer. “You’re going to be the bait, aren’t you? The trap is going to be on the PsyNet.”
“I’m not changeling but I’m flawed in a way that might negate that handicap. My mind appears to be able to… understand yours. We can use that to ensure the killer is attracted to me.” Her voice remained strong though her hand was trembling. “With your help, I’ll teach my mind to mimic changeling thought patterns. Once I’m in the Net, I’ll drop my shields enough that he picks up the altered patterns.”
“What happens next?”
“Because of his compulsive nature, I’m sure he’ll attack me on the psychic plane, try to incapacitate me mentally so as to get a free pass to my physical body. Once I know who it is, I’ll tell you.”
“Then you’ll fight for your life.” His jaw was tight, his hand crushing hers.
“That’s nonnegotiable,” she whispered. “It’s becoming almost impossible for me to hide myself in any case—you saw what the pressure did to me yesterday. I’d rather let the shields down in a controlled situation than chance having them collapse without warning.”
“How are you going to make sure it’s the killer who finds you first and not one of the others?” Tamsyn asked when Lucas remained silent. He knew the healer understood exactly what this was doing to him.
“I’ll need a distraction big enough to draw the attention of most of the PsyNet. I haven’t quite figured out how to do that yet but I’ll think of something, even if it means setting off a psychic bomb of sorts.” She took a deep breath and looked up.
“As well as giving me access to thought patterns I can mimic—ideally those of a female who fits the victim profile—one of you will have to allow me far enough into your mind that I can cloak myself in your… psychic scent. That person will also have to permit a psychic link during the entire plan’s execution.
“The killer is attracted to changelings and, unlike the rest of the Psy, he’ll recognize the presence of the scent before anyone else, especially if they’re distracted by something else.”
“Like waving fresh blood at a shark,” Mercy commented from her position by the back door.
“Yes. There’s something else.” Sascha’s eyes bled to darkness as Lucas watched and the panther knew she was hurting. It threatened to break him that he couldn’t take away her pain. “Ever since Silence was instituted, the Psy have been proud of their lack of violence.”
“Silence?” Tamsyn asked.
“A program to decondition young Psy to emotion. If we feel no rage, no jealousy, no love, then we won’t kill. At least that was the rationale.”
“Oh, my God,” Tamsyn said. “They purposefully crippled their children.”
“And they didn’t solve the problem. According to what I learned today, there are fifty known serial killers circulating among the Psy population. It seems the Council has a policy of quietly taking care of them.”
“Death?” Nate asked.
“Rehabilitation. It’s death of the mind, completely wiping out the individual and most of the higher mental functions.” Her eyes pleaded with Lucas to remember the promise he’d made to her. “But they’re not caging all of them. Some of the serials are considered integral to the functioning of the PsyNet.”
“I don’t think I want to know,” Tamsyn whispered.
“They provide victims for the indispensable ones, hide their trails, and ensure their kills don’t make waves either in the PsyNet or the human-changeling world.”
Lucas could see her fighting the urge to throw up. His beast wanted to pick her up and take her to safe harbor but her eyes said she hadn’t finished. He was astounded by her strength—how could that fragile body hold so much courage, so much heart?
Dorian spit out a curse. “When they gave up their emotions, they gave up their humanity.”
Sascha looked at the angry leopard. “I agree. I’m sorry your sister was stolen from you. If I could reverse your pain, I would. But I can’t. All I can do is try to save another life.”
Dorian’s response surprised everyone in the room. “You’re different, Sascha. I’m not so angry that I can’t see the truth. You feel.”
Sascha’s laugh was so bittersweet, it ruffled Lucas’s fur the wrong way. “My entire life, I’ve been terrified of those words. I always believed it would be one of the Council who discovered me. I never thought of it as a good thing… until I met you.” She was looking at Lucas with eyes of ebony night, not a star in sight.
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“Since I don’t know when they’ll realize my flaw and attempt to take me in, I’ll need to get the information to you as soon as I get it. That’s why I need a constant link to one of you. What I know, you’ll know. You’ll be cut free the second I drop out of the Net.”
He knew she expected to be killed by the Council. “You’re under our protection.” The panther was so close to the surface his voice had dropped several octaves.
Nate, Dorian, Mercy, and Tamsyn voiced their agreement. Sascha had just earned the respect of some of the toughest leopards in DarkRiver. Once she was Pack, the others would follow their lead. And Lucas had no doubt that Sascha was going to become part of his pack.
Her face looked incredibly sad for a second. “No one escapes from the PsyNet.” She glanced at the leopards around the room. “Thank you for showing me more life in a few days than I ever expected to experience. I won’t go down easy—I want to live.”
Lucas refused to let her say good-bye. “Who says no one ever escapes from the PsyNet? Has anybody ever tried?”
Her eyes widened. “No.”
He shook his head. “Not as far as you know. If they’re keeping quiet about serial killers, don’t you think they’d bury the loss of any Psy out of the Net?”
“That won’t work with me. I’m too visible. I couldn’t disappear even if there was a way out. I’d have to change my identity and I can’t.” She pointed to her eyes. “No contact lenses made can hide these.”
“I won’t let them erase you. In any way.” No one took one of Lucas’s people without consequences. Kylie’s death had never been forgotten and until vengeance was taken, it would remain a burning pain in his soul.
And his woman? If anyone so much as bruised her, he’d destroy them. He reached out to rub at the dark circles under her eyes. “You’re exhausted. Even if we let you run this insane plan, you can’t do it now.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. We still have a few days. This is the third night since he took Brenna.” Her tone held the knowledge of the horror the SnowDancer had to be going through. “I wish I could recover quicker, but shadowing Henry drained me.”
