by Nalini Singh
“What?” Lucas growled. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The panther wanted to bare its fangs in fury.
“Ask them why.” She was more furious than he’d ever seen her. “Because a single mind can’t supply the feedback I need without killing itself. To use a link with you in any way is sentencing you to a slow death with me.”
“Yes,” Walker said. “Our familial net functions the same way as the PsyNet but on a smaller scale—the feedback somehow accumulates. However, we’re all Psy and we all supply the Net as well as feeding from it, which we believe creates the multiplication effect.
“In your case, there would be no such effect. To make up the deficit, you’d have to link with others in your mate’s pack. With three or four minds, there’d be a pool of background feedback—spare energy every mind produces. You wouldn’t be actively draining anyone.”
“Impossible.” Sascha was leaning forward, palms braced on the table. “I agree the connection between mates is almost psychic, but that bond doesn’t exist for me with anyone else. How do I mate with more than one leopard?”
“You don’t,” Lucas snapped before he could stop himself. “You belong to me. End of story.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know that, your highness, but I was pointing out the impossibility of what Walker is suggesting. There’s no way for me to link with anyone outside of you.”
Lucas’s beast hated the thought of her linked to anyone other than him, but he realized that if it would keep her alive, he’d share her. It would tear him to pieces but he’d do it. It was the first time he’d understood the depth of his own feelings.
“Any other ideas?” Hawke asked.
Silence.
The wolf stood. “Prepare for war.”
Sascha argued with him every inch of the drive home. “You’re going to let hundreds die because you want to keep me alive for a few extra days?”
“An hour of your life is worth more than a thousand people to me.”
“What about Julian and Roman? What about Kit? What about Rina? Are you willing to lose them?”
He felt the questions like kicks to the heart. “They won’t die.”
“Like hell they won’t!” The use of profanity told him how far he’d pushed her. “If the Council decides to eliminate your pack, every single one of you will be eliminated, even if it takes them years.”
“So you want me to lie back and let you kill yourself?” His words were so angry, her head snapped back as if he’d hit her.
“No. I want you to help me save someone’s life. I want you to give me back my pride.”
He scowled. “When did you lose it?”
“When I found out my mother was aiding and abetting murderers.” It was a brutally honest statement.
He tried to grasp her hand. She tore it away. “No! I won’t let you do this.”
“You need us to cooperate for your plan to work,” he pointed out. “No one is going to go behind my back to help you.” They knew he’d gut them, tear them into such small strips that nothing would remain. He wasn’t alpha because he played nice when his people were threatened. And his woman? He’d lay waste to the world for her.
“Maybe I don’t,” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll try it without one of you. My shields are failing one by one—exposure is inevitable. They’ll come after me within days and when they do, I’ll have to drop out of the Net anyway, to escape rehabilitation.”
And he knew. “You’re going to do it with or without my help.” He brought the vehicle to a stop in the front yard of the safe house.
CHAPTER 24
“What would you do in my place?” Her eyes were pure black when he looked at her. “What would honor demand?”
“You’re my mate. Honor means nothing.”
She opened the door and got out. He sat inside until she came around to his side and opened the door. Her hands were warm and alive on his face. “Liar,” she whispered. “Honor means everything. Otherwise, we’re exactly like them.”
Getting out, he wrapped his arms tight around her trembling form. “I’ll do it.” He wondered if she understood that he’d just torn out his heart and laid it at her feet.
She shook her head. “I can’t hurt you like that.”
“No dice, kitten. I’ll anchor you and, afterward, you’ll psychically reach out for me. No more fighting our mating. Your reluctance is the only thing holding it back—the second you try to link, the bond should snap into place.”
Pushing off him hard enough to break his hold, she said, “No.”
“Yes.”
“What will happen to DarkRiver without you? Have you thought of that?” She was shaking her head, eyes ebony night. “You’re not going to last longer than a couple of months if I link with you in any way—I’ll suck you dry. Don’t ask me to destroy you.”
“Vaughn’s strong enough to take over until Kit comes of age.” There was no choice to be made.
“No, Lucas. No.” Her entire body was shaking.
“It’s the only way I’ll allow you to go in.” He let her hear the steel in his voice, let her remember his threat to incapacitate her. There was nothing civilized in him where Sascha was concerned. “Promise me.”
She shook her head mutely.
“Promise me, kitten.”
Turning, she ran from him. He let her go into the house. Then he waited until Vaughn slipped out of the woods to stand before him. “She’s right. DarkRiver needs you.”
“And I need her.” Lucas had watched one woman he loved die. He couldn’t do it again. “If I survive her, I’ll be as good as dead anyway.”
Aware she hadn’t fully recovered from shadowing Henry, Sascha decided to put the plan into effect the following night. It would give her time to carefully examine the thought patterns she’d be mimicking. Rina had volunteered to allow Sascha to scan her patterns, as it had become clear that the young soldier fit the victim profile.
Those were the logical reasons but the truth was, no matter how selfish it made her, she wanted one more night with her lover. In bed, in the darkness, she was the one who reached for him.
He was wild and angry and she felt his withheld fury. But his hands were unbearably tender, his touch a kind of devotion she’d never dreamed of. She fell asleep in his arms, safe and protected. Which was why when the dream began, she couldn’t quite believe the horror.
“Help me!” It was a scream from the core of a woman’s consciousness. “Please help me!”
Broken by the raw suffering she could hear, Sascha tried to soothe her. The woman retreated from her as if she’d been burned. “No!”
“Let me help you,” Sascha begged, tears streaming inside her mind for this woman whose face she couldn’t see.
“You’re Psy.” That voice was full of rage but agony throbbed endlessly beneath the surface.
“I’m not like him.” She sent out subtle waves of healing. The emotions that washed back up to her echoed with so much suffering, she ached. She kept taking it and it kept coming. “You’re unbelievably strong.”
“I cried.” The defiance was gone from the whisper. It was as if she had to trust Sascha, the solitary voice in the darkness. “I begged him to stop.”
Sascha tried to fix the tattered shreds of the woman’s pride. “You survived and you kept him from your mind. You didn’t break. That’s what’s important.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
“We’re coming for you. Survive for us.”
“You’re not Pack. You smell like the cats.”
“We’re all one against the enemy.” The depth of damage in the young girl’s psyche staggered her. That she’d managed to keep the killer from her innermost mind was a testament to her incredible strength of will. “We’re coming, Brenna. We’re coming.”
“Hurry.” The voice was fading. “Please hurry.”
Sascha woke as morning was breaking and knew they couldn’t wait any longer. “Now,” she told Lucas, finding him in the
living room with Hawke, his lieutenants, and two other males. It didn’t surprise her to see the wolves there—both alphas were preparing to rise against the Psy, “We have to do it now. We can’t leave Brenna with him any longer.” Her tone was on this side of hysterical.
Lucas ordered everyone out. Nobody spoke a word as they filed out and closed the door behind them. Nobody but Hawke. “What time should I tell the Laurens?”
Sascha reached for her timepiece as he reached for his. “Five minutes from now.”
“I’ll call Judd.”
She nodded.
“We’ll keep you safe, sweetheart.” He touched her face and left.
Hope was a dangerous commodity and she couldn’t indulge in it. Her eyes met Lucas’s as she walked across the room to face him. “It doesn’t have to be you,” she said one more time, begging him.
“It has to be me. I’m yours.” His kiss held his heart.
It broke hers.
“Let’s start,” she whispered, unable to bear this any longer. If she thought about what she was going to do, she might never do it, might leave Brenna to be tortured and murdered, her mind raped and then discarded. That she’d even consider such a thing made her fear for her soul.
She felt Lucas’s mind welcome hers. Though he wasn’t a Psy, it felt almost like shields dropping. She didn’t need to go completely inside to gain what she needed. Instead, she made a superficial link that would allow her to feed him information and smell of him on a psychic level.
That scent would bolster the impression of a changeling mind that she was going to create using the glimpse she’d had of Rina’s thought patterns. Their minds worked differently enough from those of the Psy that no one would ever mistake one for the other. However, it might be possible to fool the killer long enough for Sascha to get a fix on him.
“Don’t expose yourself unnecessarily.”
Sascha nodded. One way or another, she’d have to drop out of the Net, but she wanted to get out without revealing the entire scope of her empathic mind. It would keep others like her safe… if there were any others like her. “If he’s drawn to this bait enough that he ventures close, I won’t have to. But if he’s wary, I might have to give him a more interesting victim.”
Lucas’s eyes flashed with denial but he didn’t try to tell her not to do it. Her alpha male was finally learning that she couldn’t be ordered around. “Come back to me, Sascha. Promise me you’ll initiate the link.”
Brenna’s screams echoed in her mind, urging haste. “I promise.” Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, wishing for just another hour, another minute, another lifetime. “Thank you for teaching me how to live.”
His hand clasped the back of her neck, those Hunter’s eyes violent with the animal’s hunger for her. “If you want to thank me, stay alive. Keep your promise.”
Initiate the link.
Sascha forced herself to nod. “We should start.” She led him to the sofa. Lucas sat down, legs sprawled along its length. Without argument, she crawled up to lie with her head against his chest, putting her arms around his muscular frame.
She could hear his heart, his life, through the soft cotton of his gray T-shirt. How could he condemn her to steal that from him? How could he force his pack to go on without their leader? She wasn’t worth the sacrifice, a woman born of a race who’d lost their humanity a hundred years ago.
“Ready?” A gentle hand smoothed over her unbound hair.
She’d never be ready to kill them both. Only, the alternative was much worse. “Yes. Judd and Sienna will be setting off the distraction in a minute.” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and found him.
Lucas’s flame was pure heat, pure light. He’d trusted his mind to her but she didn’t go in, couldn’t face what she might see. His emotions for her might destroy her. Instead, she gently merged into the upper layer until her thought patterns began to echo his in a subtle way that didn’t change them but altered their psychic feel.
Letting Lucas’s heartbeat soothe her, she opened her mind’s eye. She was still behind her shields, still protected. If she wanted, she could pull back without betraying anything.
Brenna’s screams reverberated in her mind.
No, she could never pull back. First, she checked that the truth of her healing, rainbow-bright mind was hidden deep. Then she manufactured a flaw in her shields, something that looked natural. In a way, her plan was blindingly simple … if you were a cardinal E-Psy forced into becoming a genius of multi-layered shields, and if you were able to link with and so easily mimic changeling minds.
She’d realized sometime last night that her ability to touch changeling minds was part of her gift, because the nature of empathy made it impossible for one to turn evil and do harm to an open mind. When they’d crushed the development of empaths, the Psy had destroyed the growth of their conscience.
“This one’s for us,” she said within her soul. It was for all those E-Psy who’d died tortured deaths in the transitional phase, all those who’d gone insane under Silence, and all those who’d buried their gifts so deep they thought they were broken.
After a lifetime of feeling as if she’d failed at being Psy, she was winning at being everything she was capable of being. And if the changelings alone ever knew of her victory, then that was good enough for her. More than good enough. Because they remembered. Unlike the Psy, they didn’t systematically erase those who didn’t “fit.”
Using the flaw she’d created, she allowed vague tendrils of her Lucas-influenced thought patterns to filter through. She shaped the outgoing whispers based on Rina’s mind. Rebellious, headstrong, loyal, independent, and sensual, these were the traits of the women the killer had taken. The altered blend of her psychic signature was very carefully tailored to appeal to him.
Most Psy would have no idea what was unusual about it. Some might notice but they’d see her cardinal star and put it down to some odd talent. Only a Psy who’d ripped open a changeling mind would recognize this scent for what it was.
Fifty known operators.
Sascha refused to let herself think about failure. She had to trust in fate and the killer’s hunger for this particular breed of prey.
As the thought patterns filtered through, she slipped out a hidden doorway built into her outer shield and into the starry night of the PsyNet. It was the same trick she used while ghosting. But this was even more dangerous.
Today, her mind was trapped inside her shields, because it needed to maintain the contact with Lucas and feed the false illusion. When she went ghosting, she left behind an illusion mind, while her consciousness, her self, traveled the Net. In a sense, she split herself into body and mind.
A variation on the same thing occurred when she “met” someone on the PsyNet. Because she usually needed to continue functioning on the physical level, she sent out a roaming piece of herself. For the time it was on the Net, that piece acted as a separate individual apart from her, almost as if she’d copied herself. There was vulnerability there on account of the underlying connection to her inner mind, but it was so low most Psy never worried about it.
The part of her on the outside today was connected directly to the core of her mind. She couldn’t use a roaming piece of herself because the NetMind would pick it up and so would other Psy. To create the illusion that she wasn’t in the Net at all, she had to be outside but fully connected to the core. However, if someone took control of her here, they’d have unhindered access to her brain—mind control on the most intimate level.
However, she couldn’t worry about that possibility—she had too much else choking up her throat. Already, the currents of the Net were spreading her bait. All she had to do was wait and watch. Hidden against her own mind, her presence was almost impossible to detect. This was such a dangerous maneuver that most Psy would never think to look for it, but she had to be outside her shields to see the killer’s mental face.
Even if she didn’t recognize him, she’d have enough t
o ID him from the PsyNet databases. So long as the rainbow of her true mind stayed hidden, she’d be able to use the resources of the Net.
Two curious high-Gradient minds passed close by but didn’t stop. She heard parts of their conversation, which they weren’t bothering to shield. The word “cardinal” featured prominently. The flaw she’d created was unique but not so overwhelmingly a bad fit that normal Psy would question it. She’d counted on their arrogance, which led them to think changelings harmless and thus not worth studying as you would an enemy.
Her nerves relaxed a fraction at the small success. The temptation to go back and wipe away her shields until she could touch Lucas’s mind in a psychic kiss was almost overwhelming. She needed touch and she knew her lover wouldn’t mind the caress despite his independent nature.
He belonged to her as much as she belonged to him.
However, to expose him that way would be sheer selfishness. An intruding Psy could harm him through her if her shields cracked. And Lucas couldn’t die. She wouldn’t allow it.
Something pinged on her outermost shields, which weren’t actually shields but warning beacons, one of her secret creations. Excitement mounting, she watched. Oh hell! Why hadn’t she realized that she’d inevitably draw this one mind?
Sascha.
Mother. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to your call—I’ve been very busy. She answered using the mental pathways of telepathy, as if she wasn’t actually present on the Net. Hopefully, her mother was too preoccupied by the hunt for the killer and the Laurens’ distraction to quiz her about exactly what she’d been up to.
One of your shields has a fracture. Fix it before people try to take advantage and sneak in viruses.
Of course Nikita would worry about viruses. Thank you.
There’s something odd about your patterns. Perhaps a visit to Medical is in order.
Fear and betrayal gripped Sascha around the throat. Nikita had to know what was wrong with her daughter, had to have seen her before she’d been old enough to conceal her mind. Yet she was giving advice that could lead to Sascha’s exposure. Did she suspect how far her offspring had gone from the accepted Psy path?
