Blaze of Memory p-7

by Nalini Singh

  Tag was waiting outside Katya’s room when Dev walked out. “Didn’t go well?”

  “She won’t take a sedative.”

  “Did you really think she would?”

  “No.” He wouldn’t have either. “But since both you and Tiara are going, she needs to come with us when we go see Sascha. And no way can I take her in when she might be a threat. Lucas’ll slit my throat.”

  “There is another option,” Tag pointed out. “Glen could put her into a medically induced coma while we’re gone.”

  Dev felt his entire body hum with violence. “We do that, it’s torture.” It’d break her, put her back in that room where she hadn’t been able to see, hear, touch.

  “Yeah.” Tag blew out a breath. “You have a little bit of telepathy—can you tell when she’s using her abilities?”

  “Now that I know to watch for it—if I’m close, yeah.”

  Tag straightened his big body away from the wall. “Then stay close. Close enough to physically incapacitate her if necessary.”

  Dev’s stomach roiled.

  “I’ll do it.” It was a quiet offer from a man who knew Dev better than most.

  “No.” He stared at the door he’d only just stopped himself from slamming minutes ago. “She’s mine.”

  “Your responsibility, you mean.” It was a very deliberate reminder.

  “Don’t worry—I’m not being led around by anything other than the brain in my skull.” Not anymore.

  “Well, she’s a pretty thing now that she’s started to fill out.” Tag shrugged. “And we all know how you are with the helpless ones.”

  “But she’s not exactly helpless, is she?” He almost felt a sense of pride in her. God, how fucked up. Yet . . . if she had been telling the truth—if she’d survived not only torture, but the destruction of her mind, her personality itself, shouldn’t that be a cause for pride?

  “No.” Tag’s agreement poured cold water over his thoughts.

  “What are you going to tell Lucas?”

  “The truth.” He forced himself to look away from the door, from the fury of a woman who was no longer the broken creature he’d found, but someone far more dangerous. . .far more compelling. “If necessary, I’ll inject her with sedatives myself.”

  Again, Tag shrugged. “Dev, don’t torture yourself like this. Give over the responsibility to me.”

  “No.” Flat. No room for compromise. “You need to control Cruz—that’s much more intensive—Tiara can’t do it on her own.”

  “Yeah. Kid’s still wide open if we’re not blocking him.”

  If only, Dev thought, they could neutralize Katya as easily. It would make her far less of a threat, but Katya wasn’t simply Psy, she was an adult. Even if Tag or Tiara could block her, she’d fight them, and in doing so, drain energy they needed to ensure Cruz’s safety. “If Katya let you into her mind,” he said to Tag, “if she was able to drop her telepathic shields, could you block her?”

  “I’d have to be monitoring her the entire time,” Tag said. “She’d hate it. It’s different with Cruz—he puts on that sullen act, but there’s acceptance there. He knows he needs the shields we put around him. They make him feel safe.”

  “But they’d make Katya feel violated.”

  “That and trapped.”

  “Then we won’t consider it.” It was an instant decision, made in the primitive core of his soul. “She’s already been cut off from the PsyNet. We do this, we effectively maim her.”

  “So you believe her story?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.” Looking up, he caught Tag’s expression. “Say it.”

  “You know what I’m going to say.” Tag shrugged. “You need to hand her off to someone else—her feelings shouldn’t count here. We need to contain her in the most effective way possible.”

  Dev knew that. He also knew it wasn’t happening. She was his—whatever happened, he’d allow no one else to interfere. “Maybe this time, the Council did it right.” He began to head away from Katya’s suite.

  “Maybe.” Tag fell in beside him. “And maybe they don’t know you as well as they think.”

  “You mean I’m not a sucker for hurt women?” He’d been rewired that way the day after his ninth birthday. No one would ever be able to pull that wiring out.

  “You might have a weakness,” Tag replied as they stepped into the elevator, “but it won’t stop you from doing your job as director.”

  “So the fact that I’m a stone-cold bastard is my salvation?”

  Tag’s smile was thin. “The last board was full of nice men and women. The Council almost ate us alive. I’d rather trust a shark at the helm.”

  PETROKOV FAMILY ARCHIVES

  Letter dated September 1, 1976

  Dear Matthew,

  You played with your father and Emily today, all three of you laughing so hard you made my soul burn with joy. Your father is managing to remain lucid for hours at a time, though I wonder at what it costs him.

  Today he received another blow when your uncle Greg decided for Silence. I don’t think your father expected his brother to take that step, but Greg’s foreseeing abilities are stronger than David’s. The nightmares in his eyes . . . I wish I could help him. But I’m an M-Psy, a scanner.

  Some people say that’s why I don’t understand the importance of Silence, but dear God, how can they think that? I’m married to an F-Psy, mother to two little telepaths. I know the exact cost—down to the last tear, the last shred of fear, the last little bit of light in your father’s eyes.

  I even said to him that perhaps Greg was right, that perhaps Silence might help those with his gift. He didn’t get angry. He knows too well that I love him to the core of my being—the idea of watching his mind fragment, break under the weight of the darkness of his visions. . . it shatters me. Do you know what he said, Matthew?

  He said he’d rather die a madman than live by wiping out everything that makes him who he is. He’d rather live one day with his love for me, you, and Emily in his heart than a lifetime without feeling that “wild, endless fury.” Your father is a poet at times. I bet you didn’t know that. I’m smiling as I write this, knowing we’ve made up our minds. We’ll stand against Silence. But Matty, I fear that we might be in the minority.

  With all the love in my heart,

  Mom

  CHAPTER 25

  Katya was starkly conscious of Dev’s barely contained energy as he sat beside her on the airjet. Escorted to the very back of the plane, she’d been warned against trying to see who else was on board—though it was difficult to miss the two people moving about in front. One was a big man Dev had introduced as Tag, the other a Venus of a woman with a sleek waterfall of blue-black hair and a dazzling tawny-eyed smile set against a face that was all supermodel cheekbones.

  There was, she knew, someone else on the plane, but he or she had been kept from Katya’s sight. She made no effort to do a telepathic sweep, to discover the hidden individual’s identity. Dev had shown her the pressure injector in his pocket after they boarded. She’d expected a threat, but he’d cut her legs right out from under her instead.

  “You force me to use this,” he’d said, something dark and painfully old in his eyes, “and I’ll never forgive you.”

  In that moment, she’d had the startling realization that she was seeing the real Devraj Santos for the very first time. He’d retreated behind his walls an instant later, and now, ten minutes into the journey, he was busy working on his electronic datapad. Not a word had passed between them in the ensuing time.

  Up ahead, she saw Tag shift his gaze to follow his gorgeous companion’s progress as she walked down the corridor to get some water. He snapped his head back around the instant the woman began to return. Katya’s lips twitched.

  “Something funny?”

  She was so surprised by the question that she turned to stare at Dev. He was still looking at his datapad. “How did you know?”

  “I know.”

 
In the apartment, she’d made a vow to be civil to him but nothing more. He wasn’t her friend—how could he be when he didn’t believe a word she said? But at this moment, sitting next to him, she realized that distance wasn’t the way to get to Dev. The man obviously knew too much about it—he could outfreeze her any day of the week. But laughter . . . Dev didn’t seem to know much about laughter. And while she might be Psy, she’d found a vein of humor in her new phoenix heart.

  “Tag,” she said, dropping her voice. “He keeps looking at that woman when he thinks no one is paying attention.”

  “Her name’s Tiara.” Dev input something else on his datapad. “There’s an open betting book at Shine on those two.”

  Curious, she waited for him to continue. “What about?” she prodded when he didn’t.

  “When Tag’ll get up the guts to ask her out.”

  Blinking, she stared at the big, solid man with a face like stone. “Your friend doesn’t seem like he’s scared of anything. I can see him taking on the Psy Council without blinking.”

  “That’s why it’s so funny.”

  “Oh.” Now she understood. For some reason, this Tiara rattled Tag on the deepest levels. “When I was in the PsyNet,” she said, catching another wisp of memory, “I never understood how human and changeling females could trust their males without the ropes of Silence.”

  Dev finally looked at her, those exotic eyes intent.

  “Especially,” she continued, “when the males were bigger and stronger. Like when Sascha Duncan defected to mate with the DarkRiver alpha. I simply couldn’t understand how she could feel safe around him.”

  “There’s no male-on-female violence in the Net?”

  “No, not in the sense that you mean. Domestic violence is unheard of—I suppose there’s no chance for it,” she said, staring into the face of a man who was the effective alpha of his own people, as lethal, as dangerous. “Men under Silence are cold, controlled. But the men outside? You get so angry—there’s nothing to stop you from harming a weaker person.”

  All at once, the temperature dropped, until she could almost see her breath frost the air. “Your research must’ve been very thorough.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  Dev stared at her, his face holding no emotion whatsoever. After a long, frozen moment, he returned his attention to his datapad. “There’s an entertainment module in the datapad in the seatback in front of you.”

  She didn’t know where she got the courage. Reaching over, she grabbed his own datapad and pushed the Off button. He simply held out a hand. “You’re lucky that model has automatic memory.”

  Instead of giving it to him, she put it down the side of her seat. “I’ll drop my shields.”

  An absolute silence, unbroken even by the murmurs of the others on the plane.

  “You can’t,” he said at last. “Unless the whole being-locked-away-from-the-Net panic was another lie?”

  It was a surgical strike, precise and deadly, but she refused to let him rattle her. “I’m blocked from the Net, but he did nothing to stop me from using my abilities—”

  “Why?” Dev interrupted.

  “Probably because that kind of a blackout requires constant policing.” Dust in her throat, gravel in her mouth. “Or maybe it’s because he wants me to use my abilities, but whatever his reason, it means I have control over my personal shields. I can drop them.”

  “Is that an offer or a threat?” Cool words, an expressionless face.

  “An offer.” She was sick and tired of being mistrusted. “You said you had some telepathy. Is it enough to scan an open mind?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  So she went with instinct, assumed he could do what she was asking. “Come in, see what I know, see what I am.” Trust me, she wanted to say. Because anger would only take her so far. She felt so alone. In the days since he’d locked her in that room, she hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night, too aware of the endless emptiness of her existence.

  The skin tightened over Dev’s cheekbones. “You trust me that much?”

  “You’ve been up-front—if I prove a threat, I die. Otherwise, I don’t think you’ll brutalize me.”

  He flinched, as if she’d hit him. “That kind of invasion, it’s nothing a telepath would choose.”

  “I am. I need you to stop treating me like a fraud. I’m not.”

  “No.” His jaw set.

  “Why?” She twisted to face him. “Because you’d feel guilty about invading my mind? I’m giving you permission, Dev.”

  “That makes it no less invasive.”

  “And this?” She waved her hand. “This—where I’m treated like a consummate liar—is better?”

  He glanced up. Following, she saw Tiara looking at the two of them with unconcealed interest. Dev’s tone was clipped when he turned back to her. “We’re not discussing this here.”

  Heat rolled up her body, threatening to color her face. “Fine. But we will be discussing it.”

  The unloading of the airjet went like clockwork. Cruz and his minders were in a vehicle by the time Dev descended with Katya. DarkRiver had sent a welcoming party of four, with two all-wheel drives.

  A tall male with distinctive blond hair tied back in a queue stepped forward. “Vaughn,” he said, extending a hand.

  “Dev.” As they shook, Dev saw Vaughn’s eyes flick to Katya, then back. Aware the man was a sentinel, one of the highest-ranking men in Lucas’s pack, Dev figured Vaughn knew exactly who she was, but he made the introduction anyway. “This is Katya.”

  Vaughn didn’t offer her his hand—a courtesy, since most Psy in the Net preferred not to be touched. “Ashaya’s looking forward to talking with you.”

  “I’m not sure how safe that’ll be,” Katya said, face drawn.

  Vaughn didn’t seem worried. “We’ve got reinforcements. Come on—you two can ride with me and Cory. You met Mercy?”

  Dev shook his head. “I heard you mated with a wolf,” he said to the beautiful redhead who lifted her hand in a small wave.

  “The trauma’s just starting to wear off.” A deadpan voice, but her eyes sparkled. “I’ll be driving the others. This is Jamie.” She jerked her thumb at the male beside her, his hair dyed a bright butterscotch yellow streaked with cobalt. “He’s riding shotgun.”

  Vaughn waited until the first vehicle had pulled out before following. He offered Dev the front passenger seat, but Dev chose to sit in back with Katya. The drive passed in easy silence—for the front-seat passengers in any case. Dev was supremely aware of the rigid line of Katya’s spine, the knife-edged question that still hung between them.

  He wanted to grab her nape, make her turn to face him instead of staring out the window. Battling the urge gave him one hell of a headache. As a result, he was in a shit of a mood by the time they arrived at the location DarkRiver had chosen for the meeting with Sascha.

  “Nice place,” Dev said. Set on a large plot of land that gave it privacy from neighbors, the single-level house was big enough for all of them. The others had already settled in according to the text message he’d received from Tiara. “How far are we from the city?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Vaughn answered. “We’ll leave you one of the vehicles—and we can get you another if you think it’s necessary.”

  Dev took a moment to think about it, very aware of Katya standing silently on the other side of the engine. “One more would be good in case we have to split up for some reason. I want both coded to recognize me, Tag, and Tiara.”

  Katya’s hand curled into a fist on the hood.

  “Only take half an hour or so,” Vaughn said. “Cory’ll code you into this one—then you can do your other people.”

  As the young male leopard worked with the car’s computronic system, Dev saw Katya step around to stand near Vaughn. “Is Ashaya well?”

  “Yes.” The sentinel raised an eyebrow. “Thought she came to see you.”

  “I wasn’t in the best frame
of mind then. We didn’t talk much.”

  “She’s happy,” Vaughn said simply. “Dorian, her, and the cub, they make a good family.”

  Cory asked Dev to input his thumbprint then so he missed the next few comments. When he turned back around, Vaughn was showing Katya something on his phone, the two of them so close, they were almost touching. If it had been Tag . . . but it wasn’t. Dev didn’t know Vaughn, didn’t trust him. His entire body went taut, ready to strike.

  The front door of the house opened in the middle of his fight with a burst of jealousy unlike anything he’d ever before experienced. Mercy and Jamie walked out onto the porch, catching Vaughn’s attention. The sentinel put away his phone. “All set?”

  Mercy nodded before turning to Dev. “Sascha’ll be by this afternoon.”

  “Thanks.” It came out sounding civilized, though he felt anything but.

  “Hope she can help the—” The redhead snapped her mouth shut at the swift shake of Dev’s head.

  Even as Mercy followed Dev’s cue, Katya stiffened. An instant later, that stiffness was gone, leached out of her like so much air, her shoulders slumping. He couldn’t bear to see her that way. Leaving Cory to complete the verification process, he walked to stand at her side, then thought to hell with it and put his arm around her waist, tugging her into the heat of his body.

  She didn’t soften for him . . . but neither did she pull away.

  “Cory,” Vaughn called out, making no comment on Dev’s actions, “you done?”

  Mercy, however, gave Dev a hard glance. The truth hit him like a lightning bolt—if Katya refused to return to New York with him, the leopards would find some way for her to stay. After all, not only was Ashaya a phenomenally gifted M-Psy, the leopards also had two cardinals in their pack.

  He met Mercy’s gaze, held it. After a while, she gave the slightest of smiles. “Guess we’ll be heading off. See you later, Dev. Katya, here’s my number.” She handed over a card. “Call if you need me.”

  Dev waited until the cats had left to say, “You going to call her?”

  “No.” Rubbing one edge with her fingertips, she slid the card into a pocket. “Ashaya’s a good person, but she doesn’t understand how badly he changed me. I see him now, you know—Ming—that birthmark on his face is unmistakable. His expression never changed,” she murmured, “no matter what he did or how much I begged.”