Visions of Heat p-2

by Nalini Singh

  As Vaughn was about to turn to leave, Sascha said, "How is she?"

  He shook his head. Faith was nowhere near where he needed her to be. And he wasn't comfortable with admitting he needed anyone that deeply.

  Faith had just produced a lucrative forecast for FireFly Industries when her comm console chimed. She used her remote to flick it on, but the call was cut off before she could speak. Shrugging, she put it down to an incorrect code and got off the chair. "I'm going for a walk," she said to the M-Psy on this shift. "Tell the patrols not to approach me." It was the same request she made after every time she had a particularly strong forecast. Her Psy senses always seemed to function at a higher level following such visions. She ended up hearing everything around her, including chatter from the guards' supposedly shielded minds.

  However, today she felt none of the usual hypersensitiv-ity, was in fact in total control in spite of what had happened the previous night. And she wanted privacy to think about why that might be. Deciding that her simple ankle-length dress would do, she stepped out into the cool afternoon air.

  She couldn't see the guards, but knew they were there. Not that they were apparently much good—Vaughn was slipping in and out without problem. And she didn't mind in the least. Last night she'd accepted that she felt fear at the murderous rage of the dark visions. Today, she permitted herself to admit that she liked Vaughn, liked his wildness and even his danger. But any stronger emotion continued to be beyond her reach.

  Nobody in the changeling world could understand what it was like to spend a lifetime without emotion and then suddenly be invaded by it on all sides. The darkness had brought menace and evil, psychopathic lust and sadistic need into her life. She might've buckled under the weight had Vaughn not brought pleasure, desire, and playfulness. He wasn't an easy male to deal with, but that was part of what made him so incredibly fascinating. Last night she'd come face-to-face with the animal who lived so close to the surface of his humanity and—

  "Faith NightStar."

  She stared at the slender, almost delicate brunette who'd appeared from the shadows of a dark-green fir. No one should've been in these grounds but her and her guards. "Who are you?"

  A cold smile that did nothing to light up those pale blue eyes. "Interesting. You're so isolated that though you've done considerable work for us, you're unaware of my identity."

  Memory flickered at the sound of that voice. "Shoshanna Scott." A member of the Psy Council and its beautiful and photogenic public face.

  "I apologize for intruding on your privacy, but I didn't want this conversation recorded."

  "You called earlier," Faith said, knowing with the sense in her that knew these things. She also knew she was in the presence of someone very dangerous, a woman who might strike without warning and with none of the control of the "animal" she'd faced only hours ago.

  "Yes. We were checking the monitoring. It's extensive."

  Faith waited for whatever it was that the Council wanted from her. Their requests had always been conveyed through the PsyClan, but perhaps this was a forecast they wanted to keep completely under the radar.

  "Your accuracy is impressive, Faith."

  "Thank you."

  "Shall we walk?"

  "If you please." She knew how to speak to the Council— she might've been isolated, but she wasn't stupid. "Was there something you wanted me to try to forecast?" Try, because forecasting didn't work on command. But if Vaughn was right, she might be able to teach her mind to control the riming of the visions that did come. It was a seductive thought.

  "I simply wanted to talk to you." Shoshanna linked her hands behind her back, her black-on-black suit making her fingers appear skeletally white. "Do you usually wear this type of clothing?"

  Faith knew it wasn't the normal Psy mode of dress. "It makes it easier for Medical when intervention is necessary." However, the reality was that she preferred ... liked, wearing dresses.

  "Of course. I've never really spoken to one of the F designation. What's it like to see the future?" Pale blue eyes bored into hers as they stopped beside a small pond.

  "Having never lived any other way, I can't make a comparison," she said, reminding herself to be very careful. One slip and Shoshanna would know that something wasn't quite right about this particular F-Psy. "However, it did give me a purpose at a time when most Psy remain unformed."

  "You've been forecasting since you were three?"

  "Officially. But my family has records that state I was making erratic but accurate non-verbal predictions even earlier." She admitted that because she believed Shoshanna already knew her history—Councilors made it their business to know things about those they wanted to talk to.

  "How did passage through the Protocol affect your abilities?"

  The Protocol. Silence. A choice made generations ago to wipe out violence, but that had also succeeded in wiping out joy, laughter, and love. It had made the Psy an emotionless, robotic race that excelled in business and technology but produced no forms of art, no great music, no works of literature.

  "My ability to fine-tune the visions grew apace with my progress through the Protocol. Instead of needing several markers to trigger them, I began to need only one or two." What she didn't say was that as she'd progressed, she'd also stopped having the dark visions.

  The unexpected memory had appeared in a quicksilver flash. It was as if Shoshanna's prodding had unlocked a secret compartment within her mind, opening her eyes to the fact that there had been a time in her childhood when she'd seen darkness. Keeping her expression calm became an exercise in self-restraint.

  "Interesting." Shoshanna began to walk once again.

  Faith followed in silence. The other woman was beautiful, but she was part of the Council—no one reached that post without having shed blood. Her mind's eye flickered and, for one instant, she could literally see the deep red substance staining the Councilor's hands. The vision was gone as quickly as it had come, but she heeded the warning. Because she'd more than seen blood, she'd had a knowing, too.

  One day soon, Shoshanna Scott was going to have Faith NightStar's blood on her hands.

  Unless she could change the future. That was why F-Psy were so valued—the future they saw wasn't fixed. Businesses could head off a rival if they knew that that rival was about to put out an important invention, or buy up shares in a firm that had been forecast to rise. Faith had never before seen something that had the potential to so directly affect her.

  "Are you fulfilled by your work?" Shoshanna's voice was a cool sound that cut through the whispers of the leaves in the wind.

  Faith didn't know what Shoshanna wanted so she chose to answer with the truth. "No. It's become too easy. I can forecast share trends in my sleep should I need to. There's no challenge to it." The Protocol may have stripped them of emotion, but it had done nothing to stem their unabating need for mental stimulation. "I'm the best in this hemisphere. The only one in the Southern Hemisphere who occasionally challenges me is Sione from the PsyClan PacificRose."

  "Yet you've never applied for entry to a higher position."

  Faith began to get an inkling of what this visit was about, but couldn't bring herself to believe it. "As it happens, I have been considering it recently. But since my age would be a barrier, I thought to wait and learn."

  "Very efficient." Shoshanna actually sounded impressed by the lie. "No one would think to monitor an F designation cardinal for that kind of shadowing. Learned anything interesting?"

  Faith decided on honesty one more time, on the basis that Shoshanna almost certainly already knew. "There are signs of dissent in the PsyNet. The loss of Councilor Santano Enrique in somewhat mysterious circumstances has engendered an unstable level of speculation."

  "What do you think we should do to stem the speculation?"

  Faith wasn't sure she wanted it stopped—debate and change had to be better for the Net than stagnant obedience. But to say that would be to attract the wrong kind of attention. "I'
m sure the Council has thought of a solution far better than anything I could offer."

  Once again, Shoshanna smiled that cold Psy smile, something Faith had never adopted. If she felt no amusement or hope, why should she smile?

  "Don't worry about offending me, Faith. I want to know what you'd do."

  "I'd give the masses an answer. A concrete answer. Nothing stops conjecture as quickly as an irrefutable truth." But what she'd glimpsed in the Net had held murmurs of a deeper dissatisfaction. The Council had already lost ground, important ground. No matter what they said now, some people would remain unconvinced.

  Shoshanna stopped and Faith realized they'd circled back to their original meeting spot. "Your view is one I happen to share. Perhaps we can further discuss the subject in the future."

  Recognizing the dismissal, Faith nodded. "I look forward to it, Councilor." Then she turned her back on the woman who'd one day have her blood on her hands and returned to her home with unhurried steps. Good thing Shoshanna wasn't a cat like Vaughn or the erratic beat of her heart might have given her away.

  However, one good thing had come out of this encounter—she could lie to her father with a straight face and request privacy for "reasons previously discussed." She did exactly that upon entering the house.

  "Have you been contacted?" Anthony asked.

  "In a sense," she hedged, beginning to accept that her original lie had never been anything that simple. "I don't believe it's wise to talk of this on the general communications network."

  "Of course. Let's meet."

  That was the last thing she wanted. "Not yet, Father. Arousing any suspicion at this stage could be detrimental." To her health, certainly. She'd heard of the kinds of things aspirants did to get rid of the competition.

  Anthony nodded. "Keep me updated. Next time, use the PsyNet."

  "Yes, sir."

  That night, the darkness didn't come. But neither did Vaughn. The rational part of Faith told her to use the respite from his constant assault on her Psy shields to tighten and bolster those lines of conditioning at risk of total failure. But that rational part stood no chance against her memories of the night before—bone-crushing terror and the dangerous safety of a jaguar's touch.

  The truth was, she'd expected him to be here after the intensity of the previous night, had come to rely on his physical presence—she, a woman used to no one else in her space. And now he wasn't here. Not that it mattered. She was Psy, she told herself as she kicked off her blanket and punched her inexplicably uncomfortable pillow into better shape. She didn't feel anything. Certainly not disappointment and anger.

  CHAPTER 13

  Having used up all his self-control the night before, Vaughn was waiting for Faith and he wasn't doing it patiently. Though he was in human form, he'd taken to the trees, crouching above the fence to keep a lookout. Her feminine form should've appeared by now.

  Five more minutes dragged by. He was considering going in after her when he finally spotted her in the pitch black of the cloud-heavy night. She climbed the fence as easily as she'd done that first time and was nearing his position mere seconds later. He decided to let her go in a little farther before jumping down, so she wouldn't be startled into a scream.

  Reaching him, she stopped and looked straight up into the branches. "Vaughn? I hope that's you."

  The cat was annoyed she'd discovered him. The man wanted to know why. "Don't make any woman sounds."

  Her eyes were cutting as he dropped down to face her, feet bare but everything else covered in jeans and a T-shirt. "I'm hardly likely to do that after taking so much trouble to get here without alerting anyone." Pure, haughty female.

  He wanted to bite her. Hard enough to mark. To claim. "How did you know I was up there?"

  "I could sense you. It must indicate a previously dormant aspect of my abilities."

  "What about other changelings?"

  "I don't know. I can't sense anyone else—is there anyone else here?"

  He smiled, aware it would make her want to spit. "You know I can't tell you that." Matter of fact, Clay was very close, having come to take over this section of Vaughn's watch. They'd traded off half an hour ago, but the leopard had stuck around to ensure Faith and Vaughn made it out safely. Something feral in Vaughn calmed at Faith's inability to feel the other sentinel. "Never know what you might use the information for."

  "What do you want me to do?" she demanded, her tone cold enough to burn. "Write my loyalty in blood?"

  "Temper, temper."

  "I don't have a temper. Are you planning on standing there all night? I don't have time to waste." Turning, she started stomping her way through the forest.

  Vaughn whistled under his breath to signal Clay that everything was okay. A low growl traveled back to him and, to his surprise, it held the faintest tinge of laughter. "Watch it, cat," he muttered, too low for anyone but a changeling to hear. "I'm the only one allowed to be amused by Faith."

  Another growl, this one closer, and then silence. Clay was doing his job now. Usually it was the soldiers who patrolled the edges of DarkRiver's considerable home range, with the sentinels concentrating on the alpha pair's defense grid. However, it had been decided that this area needed to be under closer surveillance. Even if Faith proved entirely trustworthy, she wasn't a soldier or a sentinel and could unknowingly lead the enemy to their door.

  Vaughn smiled again at the thought of his Psy, a Psy who was mad as hell but unwilling to admit it. It was clear that her conditioned responses had begun to collapse one by one. He was damn glad. Neither half of him particularly liked spending nights aroused with no relief in sight. He was impatient and more than willing to push her down the right path. The cat saw no reason to play fair when it was obvious she wanted a long, slow taste of him, too.

  Catching up, he walked a little behind her, just far enough away to admire the sway of her hips. She was shaped exactly right—though short, she wasn't too thin, her body having more than enough curves to satisfy and tempt. He wanted to watch that pert bottom moving on him. Given their height difference, the best position to enjoy that view would be with him seated and her taking him in, back to his chest. A groan threatened to erupt from his throat.

  Faith looked over her shoulder. "Stop it."

  "What?" He wondered if her skin was that creamy gold all over, lusciously lickable. Bitable.

  "You know what you're doing."

  "The question is, how do you?"

  "I'm Psy."

  "You're an F-Psy, not a telepath."

  Her eyes narrowed and he knew she wasn't aware of the giveaway gesture. And while he gloried in it, he'd have to warn her about it before she returned to that prison she called a home. "I'm a woman. We're born with those sensors. So stop it."

  "Why?"

  "Why?" She gave him an arrogant Psy look. "How would you like it if I thought of you as you're thinking of me and my body?"

  He grinned. "You know how I'd like it." Something in her comment made him pause. "Are you saying you can actually see what I see?"

  Her cheeks shaded to a dull red and he watched, delighted.

  The physical conditioning was starting to erode on a far deeper level than he could've hoped for—Psy did not blush. "Yes. I don't know why when I can't read anything else off you. None of my blocks seem to be working. So restrain yourself."

  He pondered that as he took the lead and brought her to the car. The new blindfold was sitting on the passenger seat—a strip of black silk he'd purchased specially for her. Spine stiff enough to snap, Faith put her things in the backseat before lifting it up. "Make it quick."

  He laid the strip against her eyes and moved until his chest pressed against the provocation of her breasts. "I like it slow." He deliberately imagined what it would be like to sexually tease her while she was blindfolded. "At my mercy."

  "I told you, I'm not as powerless as you think." They were fighting words, but her voice was husky. Despite her insistence that she was Psy, Faith was no longer full
y bound by Silence. That was going to mean trouble. But right now, Vaughn was concerned about pleasure.

  "Illusions don't scare me, baby." Taking his time to tie the knot, he let his mind fill with images of her blindfolded and naked, hands braced on the headboard of his bed and legs parted to keep her balance. And then he imagined how he'd stroke that creamy skin, how he'd run his tongue all over, how he'd sink his fingers in the lush flesh of her bottom and hold her in place as he took her.

  Electricity zapped his fingers where they touched her skin. "Son of a bitch!" He jerked away with a snarl. "That hurt." But the sharp shock of pain was even now receding from his fingertips.

  "You should listen to me next time." Faith slid inside the car without hesitation and pulled the door shut.

  Vaughn wondered if he should tell her that what she'd done made her more, not less, attractive to him. Jaguars liked their women tough. Smiling, he rubbed his fingers against his jeans and walked around to take the driver's seat.

  Faith said nothing until he'd started up the car. "Did I really hurt you? I've never used the ability against a living being before."

  His Psy, the one who didn't feel, was experiencing tinges of remorse. "If you did, I deserved it." He ran a finger down her cheek. "Doesn't mean I'll stop, but I'll be a bit more careful about how I tie you up."

  "I should've shocked you harder." She folded her arms across her chest.

  He began driving. "Sascha never mentioned that kind of talent. Does it fall under a separate designation?"

  "Why should I tell you? You don't tell me your secrets."

  "You're hooked up to the Net." An absolute fact. "Anything I tell you could be leaked and you might not even know you were doing it."

  "You're right." Her voice had gone very soft. "I'm under constant surveillance and yesterday ..."

  "Yesterday? What happened yesterday?"