The Psy-Changeling Series, Books 6-10 (59 page)

Another shake of her head.

He glanced behind her, hoping Dorian would come out and rescue him. No such luck. “Do you want to play?” It was generally what Ben, one of the SnowDancer pups, wanted when he trailed after Judd.

But Noor shook her head again.

Desperation took hold. “Ah . . .” He had nothing.

Then she smiled, pure trust in the sparkle of her eyes. “I have a present for you.” She lifted a little fist.

“Oh?” Startled, he held up his hand, palm up. “Why?”

“Because we’re the same.”

Judd closed his hand over the river-smoothed stone she put in his hand, knowing he was nothing like this bright innocent. His ability had made him an assassin, then a healer, but it would still be so easy for him to kill—only his love for Brenna, for his family and friends, his
pack
, kept him from crossing that brutal line. “Yeah? How do you figure that?”

A beatific smile. “I just know.” Then she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck.

Hugging her back with all the gentleness he had in him, he rose to his feet, taking her with him. And as he walked back to Dorian’s, he wondered what similarities a little girl whose name meant “Light,” saw between them.

Once, he would’ve brushed it off, distanced himself. Now, he kissed her cheek and accepted the gift of her trust.

Katya ate everything
sent to her over the next three days. She didn’t try to escape—though she did secrete away the over-the-counter pain and flu medication she found in the bathroom, not that it would do her much good—and she didn’t try to use telepathy. Instead, she concentrated on strengthening herself using exercise routines she downloaded off the computer console on the wall. That computer only allowed her to access the most basic of sites, but that was fine. She had what she needed.

Pushing all the furniture in the living room to the walls, she made a space where she could stretch out and begin to put her body back into shape. She even cleared away the glass and porcelain shards, loath to let Dev see how deeply he’d hurt her. Her focus was on getting strong enough that she could take the opportunity to escape when the chance came.

And then . . . she had a nightmare to face.

On the fourth day after she’d been knocked unconscious, Dev finally returned. She ignored him as she began to go through her stretching routine. He came to a stop at the edge of the cleared space. “Pack your stuff. We’re moving.”

Excitement uncurled in her gut, but she kept her face expressionless. “Where?”

“You’ll be near Ashaya.”

She was already shaking her head. “We discussed this. I can’t be trusted around her.”

“That’s why you’ll voluntarily take a mild sedative.”

Her stomach dropped. “No.” It would disorientate her, leave her helpless. And she was through with being helpless.

Dev folded his arms across that chest she’d slept so peacefully on mere days ago. “Fine. Be ready by ten.”

She could feel her fingernails biting into her palms. “Who’s going to punch me to put me to sleep?” she asked, furious enough to draw blood. “You?”

He walked out without answering, shattering her newfound calm.

 

 

 

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.”

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.