by Nalini Singh
He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her jump. “That’s what you get for asking silly questions.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “That hurt.”
“You’re just asking for trouble.”
“Am I going to get it?” She bit his ear again.
His hand curved around her breast. “Keep that up and you’re not going to get any sleep tonight.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Groaning, he rose up on his forearms. “No more sex for you. We shower off the sweat, and then we catch some sleep. We need to be ready to head out at dawn.”
She reached up to press kisses along his chest, cradling his growing arousal against her lower abdomen. Swearing, he let her play, but only for a minute. “Shower.” And this time, he wasn’t budging. She found herself being thrust into a fast, hot shower, and then tumbled into bed.
“Sleep.” It was an order in her ear as his body closed around hers, protective, and yes, very definitely possessive—the thigh he pushed between her own ensured she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him.
For the first time, her compulsion to go north wasn’t the overwhelming thought in her mind. And though the heat between them burned white-hot, that wasn’t at the forefront either. No, it was the tenderness of the kiss Dev pressed to the curve of her neck, the intensity of his hold. He was, she realized, looking after her.
It was an odd feeling, one that swept warmth through her limbs, turning them heavy. But she found the will to untangle their legs and turn so she could tuck her head under his chin and place her hand over his heart. He thrust his thigh back between hers the next instant. Smiling, she snuggled close. Her sleep was soft, dreamless, peaceful.
* * *
Six hours later, the precious interlude was a thing of distant memory. The car was warm, but Katya huddled into her jacket as Dev drove them out of the lodge with grim determination. The dread he’d silenced with the protective warmth of his embrace had a clawhold on her heart once again. She didn’t know if it was because of what she’d sensed, what she was leading them toward. . . or because of her terror that the compulsion was born of nothing, her mind a place of nightmares and lies.
“Don’t think about it.” A cool order from the director of Shine.
His strength fed her own. “It’s hard not to,” she said. “I can feel something calling to me, but I know I’ve never been in this area before.”
“Is it possible you were held around here?”
“I suppose. But. . . I feel no sense of familiarity with anything.” The snowy fields passing by on either side as they drove ever deeper into largely uninhabited territory sent a chill down her spine, but not because of any memory of torture.
The world on the other side of the window was actually rather beautiful, the snow glittering with diamond shards under the morning sun, the sky a placid blue that should’ve made evil impossible. But—“In my mind,” she whispered, “everything’s swathed in shadows.”
The cold, clear-eyed soldier in Dev told him to turn back, that Katya was most likely leading him into a trap, but he kept driving. Today, he was going to follow the gut instinct that had saved his life more times than he could count. This woman—his woman—needed this, and he would give it to her.
“Tell me something,” he said when she fell silent, her eyes locked on the outer vista.
She started, as if he’d broken into a trance. “What?”
“You mentioned your parents—any memories you want to share?” He just wanted to get her thinking about something other than the darkness coming inexorably closer. It wouldn’t take long, he thought. They’d reach their goal either tonight or early the next morning.
“Well,” she said after a long pause, “since my parents had a full coparenting agreement, we all lived together in a family unit. They always consulted each other before making any decision about my welfare.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad.” It was, in fact, far better than he’d expected.
“No. It was a good existence.” Folding her arms, she tilted her head to face him. “But it was simply an existence. When I turned eighteen and moved out, there was no difference in my life other than the fact that I could make decisions on my own from then on.”
“I thought Psy were pretty strong on family loyalty.”
“Yes, but it’s a cold kind of loyalty. A month after I reached my majority, my parents—who’d ceased living together the day I turned eighteen—dissolved their coparenting agreement, and my memories tell me that I never knew them to speak to each other again.” She shrugged. “They’d achieved their aims, fulfilled their contracts. I have connections to both families, of course, but when I turned twenty-one, I had to choose.”
“Why?”
“Because Psy only trust loyalty that is absolute,” she said. “I had to formally identify with either the maternal or the paternal side of my family.”
“Which did you choose?” Dev asked, fascinated by this glimpse into the forces that had shaped the woman by his side.
“The paternal,” she answered. “My father’s family is involved in scientific endeavors, while my mother’s is more focused on economics. It made sense for me to align myself with the group that would allow me to best utilize my skills.”
“And your mother didn’t feel like she’d gotten the worst of the bargain?”
“Of course not—genetically, I’m still half hers. But since she did co-raise me, my father had to buy out part of the contract since his family would get the benefit of my training, skills, and connections.”
Dev blinked, trying to understand. “He bought you?”
“It’s a perfectly normal transaction in the Net.” She blew out a breath. “Everything’s calm and practical and business-like. No fights, no disagreements. All the contingencies are covered in the parenting and fertilization agreements.”
Dev couldn’t imagine such a cold life, such a cold relationship. “So since you’re considered part of your father’s family, did you have to contribute financially?”
“Yes. Our family had a central investment fund. I did quite well out of it—we had a good investment strategy.” Stretching out her legs, she tapped her fingers on her knees. “I wonder how my death affected things. Likely very little—my work for the Council raised my family’s ranking in terms of their influence in the Net, but it was a small contribution. Losing me wouldn’t have caused that big a ripple.”
To hear her talk of herself in such a clinical way infuriated him. “But your life will cause one hell of a big ripple.”
She gave him a startled look. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Can I ask you . . . ?” A hesitant question.
“What?”
“About your childhood?”
His hands clenched on the steering wheel. “What do you want to know?” It came out sounding like gravel.
She was quiet for almost a minute. “You don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not today.” Not ever, if he was being honest.
“Is there someone else you—no.” She shook her head. “I’m asking for your weaknesses.”
“Was the question yours?”
Her eyes were hollow when she glanced at him. “That’s just it. I don’t know.”
Even as Dev and Katya drove ever deeper into the barren wilderness of Alaska, Sascha sat beside Lucas as he drove them to Cruz.
“I do know how to drive,” she pointed out, simply to see his reaction.
He shot her a narrow-eyed glance. “Why are you purposefully jerking my chain?”
“Because I can.” She smiled. “Seriously, Mr. Alpha Cat, pregnancy doesn’t make me an invalid.”
“Am I treating you like an invalid?”
She had to concede the point. “No.” In fact, with Lucas busy overseeing a major construction deal, she’d actually been handling more Pack business. “But you’re running yourself ragged—I could’ve driven myself to Cruz, taken a sentinel as escort. Then you’d have had the
morning free to read the revised contracts.”
“I can read the contracts while you’re working with the boy.” Reaching across, he closed his hand over hers. “You know you’re not going to change my mind.”
She brought his hand to hers, kissed the knuckles. “I know. But I have to try.”
“Why? Because it makes me crazy?”
“Because I know I have to train you before our baby arrives.” He’d always been overprotective of those under his care. “A baby leopard won’t take well to constant supervision.”
He blew out a breath. “I’m alpha. Do you think I don’t know that?”
She wrapped him in her love on the psychic plane, an invisible kiss.
His cheek creased with a smile she wouldn’t tire of if she lived to be a thousand. “I know I’m being a pain in the ass, Sascha darling, but humor me. I’m working on letting go—I promise our kid will be a wild savage exactly like Roman and Julian.”
Laughing at the thought of some of the stunts the two cubs pulled, she blew him a kiss this time. “They wouldn’t talk to me when I went to visit yesterday.”
“Rome and Jules?” Pure surprise. “I don’t believe it—if they were bigger, they’d fight me to claim you.”
“Tammy”—the twins’ mom—“said they were sulking because they’d figured out I was going to have a baby.”
“Ah. Brats are jealous.”
Lips curving at the thought of the two little boys who’d brought joy into her life from the instant she’d met them, she nodded. “I cuddled them and told them I’d still be their Aunt Sascha. But I don’t think they were convinced until I told them they’d be bigger than the baby—so they could look after it.”
“Sneaky.” A sharp grin. “Jules, I think, is going to grow up a dominant. Looking after people is an irresistible lure.”
“What about Roman? He was just as, or even more, excited by the idea.”
“It’s hard to say for sure, but I think Rome is going to follow in Tammy’s footsteps. And healers love taking care of people.”
Sascha’s eyes widened at the realization that Lucas was right. Roman had the same calm energy as his mother, though his was overlayered with a vibrant childish joy. “Does that happen often? Healers coming from the same family?”
Lucas gave a small nod. “Tammy’s family tree has supplied a healer at least every second generation. My mom’s side of the family is more sporadic, but we do have a relatively high rate. There are still a few that turn up out of the blue.”
“You know,” Sascha said slowly, “it could be that healers come from the same genetic tree as M-Psy. I don’t know about Tammy’s, but your family definitely had Psy members.”
“Could be.” Sliding into the exit lane, he glanced over at her. “What about this kid, Cruz? He doing okay?”
“Better than okay.” Sascha couldn’t hide her pride. “He’s so smart, Lucas. I teach him something once, and it’s like this.” She snapped her fingers. ”He’s a natural.”
“Good, the faster he learns to protect himself, the better.”
“You’re worried about the Council?”
Lucas gave a small nod. “Dev thinks Shine’s managed to keep the true strength of some of their people under the radar, but he wants us to be extra careful.”
“I don’t blame him,” Sascha said, a wave of anger building beneath the surface of her skin. “After what they did to Jon and Noor.”
“We’re almost there, kitten.” A brush of his knuckles over her cheek. “You said Cruz needs absolute stability.”
Nodding, she took a deep breath and began to settle her emotions step by slow step. But one thing continued to worry her. “I felt Katya that first time we went to see Cruz.” She tried not to intrude, but her ability was so much a part of her, she invariably picked up emotional resonances—especially when those emotions were so viciously strong. “She’s keeping so much inside—it must physically hurt.”
Lucas took almost a minute to reply. “She’s strong,” he finally answered. “There’s a granite will in there.”
“Dev is strong, too.”
A swift glance from panther green eyes. “You picked that up, too?”
“Hard to miss the intensity between them. But . . .”
“But?”
She dropped her head back against the seat. “I’m so scared for them, Lucas. Because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t see how they could ever find a happy ending.”
CHAPTER 38
Ming continued to work as something pinged against his mental shields. It was nothing, simply a reminder that Ekaterina Haas was still alive. He hadn’t expected her to last this long—but then again, humans were weak, easily manipulated. And the Forgotten had become more and more human with the passage of time.
Perhaps the little sleeper would complete her task after all.
Putting the unimportant project out of his mind, he concentrated on the problem at hand. Aden, he said, telepathing directly to the medic in charge of monitoring the Arrow Squad’s response to Jax, How many Arrows have reacted negatively to the Jax regimen in the past six months?
The response came almost at once, Aden’s primary talent being telepathy. Seven. We can’t afford to lose that many.
Ming agreed. Arrows were highly trained, many from childhood. There were never more than two hundred overall, and currently, the number of active Arrows had dropped to a hundred and sixty. Are you close to resolving the issue?
Something like this happened with Judd Lauren.
Ming recognized the name at once as that of the lone Tk-Cell who’d survived to adulthood in the past generation. Judd Lauren’s ability to literally stop the cells of the body had made him an invaluable assassin. Wasn’t he taken off Jax?
Yes. Along with most of the other Tks. They all functioned as well without it—telekinetics seem to only need a very short stay on the regimen. Aden didn’t elaborate but Ming didn’t need him to—he knew that after a certain period, the pathways of the brain set permanently, making the use of the drug redundant.
Will that solution work in this case? he asked.
According to available data, yes. It appears some Arrows are in fact being overdosed on Jax since they no longer need it.
Ming took a few minutes to consider the decision. If he lost control of the Arrows, they could conceivably take over the Net. One Arrow was worth thousands of normal soldiers. Try it on the ones who’re already breaking down. See if it has any effect.
I’d suggest a small number of others who may be close to that point, Aden said. I can send you a list.
Do it. Vasic? Is he on Jax? The teleporter was not only an invaluable part of the Squad, Ming utilized him on an almost weekly basis.
No. He hasn’t been for years. His brain has reset.
Acknowledging the receipt of the additional names Aden had sent through, Ming ended the telepathic conversation. As long as Vasic was on a leash, there was no problem.
CHAPTER 39
Dev brought the car to a halt in front of the restaurant/bar/hotel/post office in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town in the middle of nowhere. He’d charged up the engine with enough juice to go for days, and they had supplies, but they needed to stretch their legs at least. “We should stay the night,” he said, knowing what Katya’s reply was going to be before she opened her mouth.
“I can feel it ripping at me.” She stared out at the blackness on the other side of the windshield—it was only six, but night had fallen with the swiftness of a raven’s wings. “We’re so close.”
He’d been more than ready to drive on, but now, looking out at the pitch dark, the flurries of snow, he shook his head. “We have to wait for light. Or we might miss what we’re searching for.”
“We won’t.” She fisted her hand, swallowed. “But you’re right—we might not see all of it. I can’t sleep, but maybe we can wait until the snow passes at least.”
And that’s what they did. Dev checked them into one of the hotel’s two r
ooms and grabbed a few movies from the elderly owner’s vast selection. The movies were on small five-centimeter discs rather than the much more expensive crystals, but they looked in reasonably good condition. Sliding one into the player after Katya told him to choose, he stretched out on the bed, his back against the headboard, his legs straight out.
Katya stood at the window, her body outlined in a lonely silhouette. But she wasn’t alone, would never again be that isolated.
“Come here,” he said, raising an arm.
Turning from her vigil at the window, Katya crossed the room on silent feet and tucked herself against him. “What are we watching?” she asked, but her eyes kept sliding to the clear square looking out into the night darkness.
Whether it was because of her or because of his own abilities, he didn’t know, but he, too, could feel the pull of the evil that awaited. He hugged her closer. “The sacrifices I make for you—just watch.”
She was intrigued enough to pay attention to the screen. “Pride and Prejudice,” she read out. “It’s a book written by a human. Nineteenth century?”
“Uh-huh.”
“The hero is . . . Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes. According to Ti, he’s the embodiment of male perfection.” Dev ripped open a bag of chips he’d grabbed and put it in Katya’s hands. “I don’t know—the guy wears tights.”
“Shh.” She ate a chip. “I have to pay attention. The language is different.”
His restlessness calmed as she settled down. He was aware of her attention going to the window, the dark, every so often, but she smiled, too, and once, she even laughed. Sometime around three a.m., she said, “Mr. Darcy is almost Psy in his characterization, don’t you think?”
“I try not to think too much about Mr. Darcy.”
Laughing, she put her hand on his chest. “No, really. I would’ve thought the writer based him on a Psy template, but we weren’t Silent in her time. Psy were just like humans and changelings then.”
He considered that. “I have trouble picturing it.”
“Then you haven’t been watching—several of the characters in this story are Psy,” she pointed out. “Oh, look, it’s the villain.”
