Shield of Winter (Nalini Singh) (44 page)

“I have no intention of ever causing either harm.”

“Use my face as the lock next time, is that clear?”

Again, Vasic thought about it. “You’re not always with Sascha.”

“Jesus, you’re either fucking crazy or in love.” The words were a growl. “Yeah, I might not always be with Sascha, but I’ll know where she is, and the slight delay won’t matter—having your jugular split open, on the other hand, will leave Ivy with no shield.”

“Agreed.” Lucas’s logic was sound. “I apologize for my intrusion.”

Raising an eyebrow, the leopard alpha snorted. “You’re not sorry in the least, but you figure it’s better to be friends with me than otherwise.”

Vasic sometimes wondered at those in the Net who considered the changelings too driven by their primal natures to be intelligent adversaries. Clearly, none had ever met one of the felines. Now the other man said, “How bad is New York?”

“Bad.” Vasic never shifted his attention off Ivy. “Initial estimates are that we lost four hundred Psy tonight, the majority dead, a fifth badly infected.” All of whom would slip into irrevocable comas if the past pattern held true.

“Approximately fifty humans and three nonpredatory changelings dead, caught in the middle.” An eagle had ID’d the changeling casualties. “One adult male survivor, talent: psychometry. The other Psy survivors were all empaths.” His race was imploding, and there seemed to be nothing any of them could do about it.

“We also heard reports of a second outbreak on the heels of the New York one.”

Vasic nodded, the data having come in during the past fifteen minutes. “Seattle. Krychek’s taken charge there, but the overall situation is spiraling rapidly out of control.” And it was causing Ivy to hurt herself. “Do empaths have a self-destructive streak?”

Lucas shot him a shrewd look. “No,” he said, his tone low. “But they do have a tendency to put themselves last. An empath’s capacity to care is what makes her who she is.” His eyes lingered on his mate. “It’s also an E’s greatest weakness.”

It was at that instant that Vasic truly understood the battle his great-grandfather had faced in attempting to protect his Sunny from her most profound instincts. “I don’t care if it makes her hate me,” he said to Lucas Hunter, “I
will not
permit her to sacrifice herself.”

The other man’s lips curved slightly. “When an E loves, she loves with every ounce of her being. She might be so angry with you she can’t speak, might possibly throw things at your head”—a very feline glint in his eye—“but she will never hate you. That’s the one advantage you have when it comes to protecting her.”

“Are you advising me to manipulate my . . .” He didn’t have a word for what Ivy was to him, used the one with which the man beside him was familiar. It fit. “My mate?”

Rubbing at his stubbled jaw, Lucas said, “‘Manipulate’ is a strong word. I’m talking more about a gentle reminder that her life isn’t only her own . . . that it would break you to lose her.”

That, Vasic thought, was the absolute truth.

Sascha rose from her position bent over Ivy right then. “I think she just burned herself out,” she said, rubbing absently at her lower back with one hand. “Vasic, can you carry her to one of the cushions?” She nodded at the large, flat cushions that lay scattered on the floor. “It’d be better for her than a hard table.”

Vasic didn’t do it using his telekinesis. Didn’t want the distance. Gathering the woman who owned his battered heart gently in his arms, he carried her to a cushion set away from the windows that told him this wasn’t a cabin on the ground, but an aerie in the branches of a tree. When Ivy curled up on the cushion, it unraveled a dark knot in his chest.
Ivy?

No verbal or telepathic response, but her lips tugged up at the corners and she rubbed her face against the hand he’d placed on her cheek. It was enough.
Sleep. I’ll be here.
He’d always be there, even if he had to tear the malfunctioning parts of the gauntlet from his body himself. He didn’t trust her to look out for herself.

Standing only when she seemed to fall into a deep, natural sleep, he turned to find Sascha had moved to the kitchen area with her mate, the couple talking quietly to one another.

“Here.” The cardinal E passed him a glass full of what looked like a nutrient mix. “Annoying as it is to admit, this stuff is still the best thing to rehydrate and reenergize after a psychic burn.”

He thought of Ivy complaining about the lack of flavor in nutrient meals, knew she’d scrunch up her nose when he gave her the same kind of drink after she woke. Shifting to make sure she remained in his line of sight, he accepted the drink. The alpha couple had no reason to cause him harm, and he needed the energy boost.

“I think you should come to New York,” he said after finishing the glass. “Ivy’s mentioned several times that she wished you were nearby.”

Sascha glanced at Lucas. “That’s what we were just discussing.”

From the look on the other male’s face, a “discussion” wasn’t quite what they’d been having, but the leopard alpha kept his relaxed position against the counter, arms folded. “We’ll both be coming,” he said, “but only for a short period.”

“You don’t want to be away from your daughter.” Vasic knew they’d never bring a vulnerable innocent into a city in chaos.

Sascha leaned her head against Lucas’s shoulder, her mate’s arm going around her waist while her hand settled on his heart. Their movements were so unconscious Vasic wondered how many times they’d stood exactly this way. And he thought of how Ivy liked to tuck herself against him, the way he’d cradle the back of her head with one hand, his other arm around her. It . . . eased things in him to hold her, to know he had her trust. He could no longer exist without it.

“I think I can probably last three days,” Sascha said, then twisted her mouth. “Okay, maybe two. She’s so tiny, and I can’t bear to think of her crying for me.”

Lucas dropped a kiss to Sascha’s hair as Vasic said, “There’ll be an outbreak in that time frame if the infection continues to escalate at its present pace.”

Shadows in Sascha’s eyes. “We’ll be there as soon as possible,” she said into the hush of the forest night. “I want to speak to Alice one more time first.”

“I’ll have to get in touch with the WaterSky eagles,” Lucas added, “clear my presence in their territory. Shouldn’t be an issue as we’re on good terms.”

Vasic nodded. “I’ll take Ivy home now.” She curled immediately into his chest when he lifted her into his arms, and it felt as if she’d burrowed into the raw vulnerability of his unprotected heart. He didn’t fight it. He was hers. It was as simple as that. “Do you want me to return to take you to New York?”

“No, save your energy,” Lucas responded. “We’ll catch a high-speed jet.”

Vasic left without further words, needing Ivy safe in an environment he could control. A wide-awake Rabbit jumped up onto the bed the instant Vasic laid her down on her side. Nuzzling at her as if to make certain she was okay, the dog settled down in front of her. Vasic did a security sweep of the rest of the apartment, the outer corridor, the two unoccupied apartments on this level, as well as any entrances onto the floor, then checked in with Abbot to find the other Tk was with Jaya at the hospital. It meant he had to clear Abbot and Jaya’s apartment, too, but the task didn’t take long.

His next contact was Aden. “Update?” he asked over the comm built into his gauntlet.

The news was harsh. “Krychek’s had confirmation from the NetMind and DarkMind that the entire span of the Net is riddled with the fine, invisible tendrils. Quarantining or slicing away parts of the population on the theory that some sections might be clean is no longer an option.”

That meant the only way to save their race was to find a cure. Before Vasic could respond, Aden told him something worse. “Nonempathic children aren’t immune; they’re carriers. Impossible to know when or if the infection will go active.”

Vasic’s mind filled with the image of an innocent little girl named Harriet. “That eliminates the possibility of an uninfected next generation.” It also cut off the option of segregating the young to give them a higher chance of survival.

“Krychek’s suggested the squad force the Es to defect, set up a clean network.”

Vasic might once have agreed with that tactic. Now, he shook his head in an immediate negative. “It’d kill something in Ivy.” He had no compunction in making her rest or otherwise take care of herself, but he knew his E. Ivy was a fighter, and she was loyal. To make her watch while those she loved perished, while millions screamed for help, it would do damage that could never be healed.

“I guessed that would be the case. I’ll touch base with the others, give the Es the choice.”

Vasic didn’t think any would accept it. “How many outbreaks since Seattle?”

“Five. Scattered around the world.”

Time was running out. “Wake me only if there’s no other option. I need to recharge.”

Double-checking the security after signing off, Vasic stripped and showered in Ivy’s bathroom. It only took a short second to grab fresh jeans from his room. Putting his boots near her bed so he could access them in case of an emergency, he was about to lie down next to her when he received a comm transmission on his gauntlet.

He stood, walked to the doorway so as not to disturb Ivy’s sleep, and answered the call. “Grandfather.”

Chapter 45

World financial markets fell steeply overnight, and the trend shows no signs of reversing itself.
The San Francisco Gazette
“THANKS FOR MEETING
me so early,” Sascha said to Alice as they walked in the area immediately outside the SnowDancer den. It was empty, the little ones still asleep, and the unbroken span of fresh snow sparkling under the dawn was both excruciatingly beautiful and too quiet. This place was meant for forts and snowball fights and wolf pups pouncing on one another in rough-and-tumble play.

“It was no hardship,” Alice answered, tugging the ends of her royal blue sweater-tunic over her hands. “I tend to wake early to watch the sunrise.” She drew in a breath of the chilly mountain air, the sun not yet high enough to burn off the mist that licked the woods in front of them. “Before . . . this, I always lived in cities. I visited my parents in distant corners of the planet—Egypt, Peru, China—but I always returned to the university.”

“Do you miss being in a city?”

“A little, but it’s a kind of faded missing. A sepia-toned photograph that tells me nothing would be the same.”

The two of them wandered into the trees, boots leaving distinctive imprints on the snow.

“I’ve been watching news reports on the outbreaks.”

“The more the Net degrades,” Sascha said, her mind full of the heartbreaking images on the news this morning, “the worse the fallout—for everyone, not just the Psy.” All major cities had an entwined population—human, Psy, and changeling residents living next to each other, often in the same buildings. The infected didn’t discriminate when it came to their victims . . . even when the victims were too tiny to fight back.

Sascha had woken Naya after she’d understood the true horror of what had occurred in the night darkness. She’d held her sweet baby, warm and alive and safe in her arms, and she’d cried for the parents who had become monsters through no choice of their own and for the innocents who’d been butchered, Lucas’s own arms tight around them both.

Swallowing the renewed knot in her throat, she said, “A lot of the first responders were taken out by psychic strikes during the outbreaks, even with Krychek’s team doing everything it can to round up Psy capable of shielding others.”

“I’ve been reading my own book in an effort to jog my memory.” Alice ran her gloved fingers over icicles dripping from a branch above. “I see why it may make you want to tear out your hair. I assumed so much general knowledge.”

“It was probably reasonable at the time,” Sascha said diplomatically, though she’d been known to want to throw said book across the room.

“I don’t know.” Alice wrapped her arms around herself, but her expression remained open. “It was my first book. I probably didn’t distill my original thesis down as neatly as I could have.” She went as if to run her hand through her hair, paused. “Drat. I keep forgetting my hair’s got to grow back. I feel like a damn skinny hedgehog.”

Sascha had the sense she was seeing a glimpse of the real Alice Eldridge for the first time. A smart woman with a self-deprecating sense of humor that invited the listener to laugh with her. “You’re lovely.” Too thin, yes, but with incredible bones and lush lips against skin once more kissed by a golden sheen. “Watch out for the wolf males. They’ll probably start doing sneaky things like bringing you food, and you’ll be in a courtship before you know it.”

When Alice’s eyes narrowed, Sascha found the sorrow cloaking the world hadn’t stolen her ability to laugh, to live this life she’d been given. “It’s started already?”

“I was wondering at the sudden surge of interest in my favorite meals.” The other woman’s exasperated smile faded into raw grief. “For me,” she whispered, “it wasn’t over a hundred years ago. It was yesterday. And yesterday I had parents and friends and a career. Yesterday, I loved a powerful, tormented man who’d been my childhood playmate and who broke my heart to splinters.”

“Alice.” Sascha closed her hand over the other woman’s shoulder in silent comfort.

The scientist didn’t shrug it off. “I’ve had flashes where I think I can remember my research”—husky voice, careful words—“but nothing concrete yet.” She turned to face Sascha. “I’d like to go to New York.”