Branded by Fire

by Singh, Nalini

  “Could’ve been some kind of gas,” Nate suggested. “We’ll have to check to see how they got it into the house.”

  Enid sat up, eyes distraught. “We had some work done under the house a few days ago—I was being paranoid, wanting to make sure everything was solid because Willow’s always crawling under there. But they could’ve set something up then. If I hadn’t—”

  “Shh.” Iain bussed the top of her head. “The only ones at fault are the bastards who did this.”

  Mercy wished she could give the Bakers more time to come to terms with everything that had happened, but finding Nash had to be the priority. “If it was a gas, how did Willow escape?”

  Enid laughed, a choked-up sound. “She’s been misbehaving lately. Sneaking out to go play in the woods at night. Drives me crazy. Probably saved her life.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that. Nash’s fine. He has to be fine.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Iain’s tone was so certain, everyone looked at him. “It’s his work,” he told them. “Somebody wanted him for his skills—my son’s mind, it’s brilliant.”

  Mercy’s cat came to attention, seeing a parallel that might simply be an illusion. But if it wasn’t . . . “I thought he was a student.”

  “Not an ordinary one—he started taking college classes at thirteen.” Iain’s pride was apparent even through his worry. “He’s been working on his own projects for years now.”

  “All to do with nanotech,” Enid said, and a bell rang loud and clear in Mercy’s head. Beside her, Riley’s thigh turned rock hard, and she knew their thoughts were running on identical tracks—three months back, Dorian’s mate had been the subject of a kidnapping attempt by the Human Alliance. Though none of Ashaya’s attackers had survived to confirm it, it had been clear they’d wanted her for her knowledge of a lethal virus. Depending on the nature of Nash’s work, this seemed very much like the kind of operation the Alliance would run.

  “Do you have details of your son’s research?” Mercy asked, knowing the payoff had to be major for the kidnappers to chance reprisal by DarkRiver—because while in their territory, the Bakers were Pack. And DarkRiver never forgot its own.

  Both Enid and Iain shook their heads. “It’s all hush-hush,” Iain said. “The university got a grant from some big company and that company has first rights to the results.”

  “But his professor would know,” Enid added. “I’m sure he’d help you.”

  “Merce,” Lucas said, “why don’t you and Riley head out to the house. I’ll organize the data collection on Nash. Enid and Iain can see if Willow remembers anything.”

  The shift of muscle against her own, a slight rasp of fabric against fabric that made every hair on her body stand up in attention. But this time, the wolf hadn’t done it on purpose, his attention elsewhere.

  “We have to guard against tunnel vision,” he warned, his fury apparent in the vicious control with which he spoke. Riley, Mercy knew, despised the monsters who preyed on those weaker and less able to defend themselves. It was one of the few things they agreed on. “Could be a professional relationship gone bad, a competitor, anything. We need to explore all angles until we have more intel.”

  The others made sounds of agreement, and Mercy and Riley drove off after grabbing a quick meal. Despite Riley’s attempt at wresting control—even though it was her car—Mercy was in the driver’s seat. It was obvious Riley hated that fact with a feral kind of passion.

  “If you don’t stop clenching your fists,” she said sweetly, “your veins might explode.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement, Mélisande.”

  She barely stopped herself from slamming on the brakes. “Who told you that?” She needed to know who to dismember.

  He snorted. “I ran the background check on you.”

  “What?”

  “Did you think SnowDancer was sitting on its ass while you cats set up your territory here?”

  Given that she’d done some spying of her own, she couldn’t exactly argue with that. But—“That name is off-limits. On pain of death.”

  “I’m quaking in my boots, pussycat.”

  She screamed. “Why do you live to aggravate me? Why?”

  A smile that told her nothing. “One thing I’ve always wondered—why did you enter that bikini contest when you were a teenager?”

  Her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “How far back did you trace me?”

  “Far enough.” A pause. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “And you didn’t turn into a puff of smoke and disappear. The world is full of disappointments.”

  A low growl filled the vehicle.

  CHAPTER 7

  Councilor Kaleb Krychek sifted through the reports flowing in via his constant connection to the PsyNet, the vast mental network created by the minds of millions of Psy, and paused.

  Living “jacked in” to the Net, without firewalls or shields, was not recommended, and such complete immersion, such obscene openness to others, was not something he’d ever practice. But as a Councilor, he had to be aware of everything the instant it happened. And, given that most Psy uploaded data almost without thought, the Net was the quickest and most efficient information highway in the world.

  Hence his very, very well-guarded link.

  “Silver,” he said, as another report “pinged” in his mind, alerting him to news that had set off one of his keywords.

  His most senior aide walked into the room, smart and coolly elegant despite the fact that beyond the windows, Moscow lay swathed in darkness. “Sir?”

  “I’ve caught three reports of public violence by Psy in the past twelve hours,” he said, and it was the word “public” that was important—because Silence had been meant to wipe out violence among their race. “Find out what’s happening.”

  “Yes, sir.” She paused, and waited until he’d raised his head from his desk before speaking. “There is a slight possibility that Pure Psy might be behind this.”

  Kaleb had considered that—the pro-Silence vigilante group had the potential to spin out of control. And Kaleb did not countenance anything outside his control. “Do you have any evidence to back that up?” Because Silver’s family were spies, betraying Pure Psy without a blink because Kaleb was more powerful, and therefore had the potential to offer them a better gain—loyalty to anyone outside their own family was a cost-benefit calculation for the Mercants.

  “No,” Silver said. “However, I’ll ask members of my family if they’ve heard anything. There’s also a chance it’s a cluster.”

  He didn’t ask how she knew about clusters—he hadn’t chosen Silver as his aide because she was stupid. “Make a list of all recent events that fit the parameters. Go back a month.” Clusters of violence—when a ripple in Silence broke certain fragile minds—only took place over a limited period of time. Two weeks was the maximum. If this had been going on any longer, they had to start looking for another explanation.

  Even as Kaleb spoke to Silver, another man, one known only as the Information Merchant, received a request through an e-mail address available to those who knew where to look.

  The request was . . . unexpected.

  It might even, he thought, be impossible to fulfill. But the Information Merchant was the best in the business. He did not accept failure.

  Decision made, he tapped out a reply using the wireless keyboard beamed onto his desk.

  Request received. Transfer one million dollars to the account specified below. Work will begin as soon as the transfer has been verified. Further payments will depend on hours of work, and, in this case, the level of threat.

  CHAPTER 8

  The echoes of Riley’s growl reverberated inside the vehicle.

  Satisfied she’d finally gotten to him, Mercy relaxed her hold on the steering wheel and literally shoved her mind into work mode. “So, the ‘explore all options’ stuff aside, what’s your gut say on this? Alliance?”

 
“Has their trademark—or what we know of it.” He stared out the windshield, his wolf very apparent in the tone of his voice. And this time, the edge was lethal. “Planned like clockwork,” he continued. “Only mistake was Willow, and even that’s not a biggie. She’s a cub, was probably too scared to take much in.”

  “But if it is the Alliance, why would they be so stupid?” That, she didn’t understand. “They have to know we’ll come down hard—we took out their entire team last time.”

  Riley was silent for a few minutes. “What do we know about the Alliance?”

  “We’ve had Keely doing some research,” she said, referring to the Pack historian. “From what she found, it looks like it’s a two-faced organization, but that second face—the paramilitary arm—is hidden so deep, most of their own members don’t know about it, even though they’re effectively funding it.”

  “That tracks with our intelligence.”

  “We don’t know how long the militant arm’s existed.” She overtook a large truck with speed that made Riley’s knuckles whiten . . . and the leopard smirk in unholy glee. “But obviously, they’re beginning to get more open in their activities.” Part of Mercy could understand why the humans were starting to act with such violence. Being considered the weakest race on the planet had to hurt. “What I don’t get,” she murmured, “is how the Alliance could sink so low as to attack women and children, families? Their business arm has always had a core of integrity.”

  “Been around a long time, too.” Riley slammed a hand on the dash as she swung around a Porsche that was already going well over the speed limit. “Mercy.” The dominance was back, dark and potent and thick in the confines of the car.

  It was hard to breathe, but she kept her tone sweet, her leopard tightly held. “Yes, Riley?”

  “I’m driving on the trip back.”

  “Nope.”

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  “And I’m not a submissive.” She bared her teeth at him, her own power flaring out in a scalding wave. “Suck it up.”

  The air filled with aggression. It skated over her body, along her spine, over her throat. And that quickly, she wanted him. He knew almost the instant she did, his indrawn breath harsh in a way that was utterly, erotically male. An instant later, his arousal mirrored hers.

  “We are so not doing this,” she said, having to force the words out past the constriction in her throat.

  Amber eyes glinted at the periphery of her vision. “We already did.”

  She felt like she was drowning in the indelible maleness of him. “Once.” Enough to take the edge off her need, to give her back control over her own body. “And it’s going to remain that way.” She pushed the button that lowered all the windows.

  He took another deep breath, as if savoring the musk of her damp heat, and her hands clenched on the manual steering wheel. If she hadn’t been able to sense his own arousal, she’d have thought he was just messing with her. But he very definitely wanted her—the brutal hunger of him was a pulse against her body, powerful and boldly masculine.

  “Stop the car.”

  She made an undignified squeaking sound in the back of her throat. “No way in hell.” The instant she did that, she knew full well she’d end up on top of Riley, riding him to erotic oblivion.

  Silence from the passenger seat.

  The leopard clawed at her, more than ready to sate its hunger. “You know I’m right.”

  “Is it the fact that I’m a wolf, or the fact that I made you whimper?” Controlled words, so damn controlled. Except for the pulse of heat that kept slapping into her body over and over.

  “It’s the fact that you aggravate the shit out of me.” She set her jaw. “I’m not a slave to my hormones.” It was a reminder to herself.

  A bark of laughter from the wolf next to her. Close, so close. His breath—hot, harsh, male—whispered over her ear as he said, “I don’t know any woman more in command of herself than you.”

  She shot him a narrow-eyed glance. “And that gets your panties in a twist, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Okay, she hadn’t expected that answer. Sweat beaded along her spine as her body fought the urge to give in to the sexual flames licking at every inch of her skin. God, but she wanted to crawl into his lap and just taste. “Let me guess,” she said, thrusting aside the disturbing depth of her response, “you dream of a submissive little wolfie at home, barefoot and pregnant?”

  “What’s wrong with that? You saying your submissive members have no value?”

  Oh, he was annoying her on purpose. “I didn’t say that. This is about you not being able to handle a woman who’s your equal.”

  A very deliberate pause. “I don’t see one nearby.”

  She was close to breaking the steering wheel. “I’m going to ignore you now.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t say anything in return. When she glanced over, he had his head turned toward the open window. Strong jaw—stubborn jaw—a touch of dark stubble, lips that she knew full well could turn soft when they wanted, hair that lifted easily in the breeze, but was shorter than that of most changelings.

  Since when did she find that sexy?

  Blinking, she stared through the windshield. It was just a weird chemical attraction, she told herself. She’d been too long without sex and, judging from the ferocity with which he’d taken her, so had Riley. They’d scratched each other’s itch and that was that. Done. Finito. Over.

  Protesting way too much, baby girl.

  It was her mother’s voice. For some reason, whenever she got stupid, her mental voice turned into her mother’s. Good thing her mom didn’t know about Riley—she’d probably have a coronary.

  Wolf and leopard?

  Yeah, right.

  Having somehow survived Mercy’s driving, Riley nodded hellos at the DarkRiver soldiers Nate had pulled to watch the Baker home and asked one of them to check under the house. “See if you can spot anything that could’ve been used to pipe gas into the house. Don’t touch it. Just check.”

  The man’s eyes flicked to Mercy. She gave him a nod and he headed off. It irritated Riley that the male hadn’t immediately followed his order, but the lieutenant in him was impressed. These men didn’t yet know that Riley and Mercy were heading this together—if the soldier had obeyed him, it would’ve betrayed a lack of discipline.

  “Owen,” Mercy said to the remaining soldier now, “Riley’s on this with me.”

  Owen gave a military-perfect nod, but as Mercy turned away, Riley glimpsed disappointment. Why? Then Owen’s nostrils flared and he knew. Boy had been hoping to be the one Mercy would choose to break her sexual fast. Inside him, the wolf’s lips curled up to display razor-sharp canines, and his next words came from a part of him Mercy alone seemed to awaken. “Ready, kitty?” He kept his tone low . . . private.

  Her eyes dipped to his crotch. She licked her lips. And he came to raging, painful hardness in a second. “Why, yes, Riley. Let’s go inside.” She walked off ahead of him, her hips swaying in a way that was all sorts of provocation.

  The wolf couldn’t decide whether to snarl or open its mouth in a savage smile, the smile of a predator that knew it had been bested. Deciding to think on it, he followed her into the house, the noxious smell of the perfume the abductors had sprayed heavy in his nose.

  It should’ve drowned out the sweet musk of Mercy’s arousal.

  Of course it didn’t. Because Mercy was a she-devil who delighted in irritating him. Alright, he allowed reluctantly, perhaps the scent wasn’t on purpose, but Christ Almighty, did she have to smell so damn good? He wanted to do what he’d done last night—bury his face in her neck from behind and take a long, deep taste.

  His mind taunted him with the image of her panting and angry below him, wildfire barely contained. To deal with her, to be with her, he’d had to unleash the wolf. He didn’t like being out of control. But neither did he plan on letting Mercy ignore the inferno between them.

  The
object of his thoughts met him in the middle of the house, having apparently gone straight through to the back and worked her way forward. “You pick up anything?” She was all business now.

  He shook his head, telling himself to get a grip. Teasing was fine—she’d play with him, cat that she was. But if she got even a hint of just how badly he wanted her, she wouldn’t let him within touching distance—just on principle. So he’d have to play this cat-and-wolf game until she gave in to the hunger between them.

  Then he’d gorge on her. Until she was out of his fucking system.

  Because no way in hell was Riley Kincaid about to be enslaved by a lust that seemed to know no boundaries—exactly like the woman who inspired that lust.

  “Riley,” she snapped. “Stop checking out my boobs and pay attention.”

  “I’ve seen them already,” he said, reacting in a way he only ever did with this cat. “They’re nothing to moon over.” What they were, were ripe, succulent, perfect for biting. Her skin was the rich cream of a true redhead, dusted with a luscious hint of gold. It showed every kiss, every bite mark. He could still see the one he’d made last night—it took everything he had not to lean in, place his mouth over that mark, and suck.

  “Yeah, same.” Her eyes dropped meaningfully before lifting. “Now that we’ve both got that out of our systems, can we get to work?” Sarcastic words, but her scent was a stroke against his senses, cutting through the perfume as if it didn’t exist.

  His skin stretched tight over his body. But he was a lieutenant—and little Willow was relying on them to find her brother. “You take that side, I’ll do this one.”

  With a nod, she walked away. He watched her move for a second before heading to do his own part of the job. He was used to working with a strong female—Indigo was his right hand in the pack. But where Indigo was calm and collected, a perfect complement to his practical personality, Mercy was red-hot passion.