by Nalini Singh
That was his E with the heart of a lioness. “Then why does she look like that?” She’d hunched her shoulders forward under a bright pink top with glittering silver shoulders, and bowed her head; her exuberant curls were restrained with a thick black hair tie.
“It’s her psychic scent.” Lines of strain marked Jaya’s normally smooth skin. “She comes back smelling ‘wrong’ after every session with Amara, as if she’s a different and far colder person under the skin. It’s eerie and it makes the other empaths react badly.”
Alexei thought of that night in the substation when she’d screamed and screamed and he’d caught a hint of a scent on her that wasn’t her own. A dark and ugly scent. It had happened again that first session with Amara, but he’d shrugged it off as an artifact from Amara herself, an imprint left behind even though the scientist had departed the cabin.
“Are they isolating her?” His claws dug deeper into the tree trunk. “She needs people.” His lioness had spent too long alone, was never happier than when surrounded by others.
Riaz was enjoying laughing at Alexei at present, but his fellow lieutenant also let Alexei know how Memory was doing during the times she interacted with him. “She’s hardly ever alone,” the other man had said after a recent patrol shift. “The others gravitate toward her porch and my wolf can feel her delight in their visits. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was part-changeling.”
Alexei had seen the same on his own visits, had found himself thinking that she’d love living in a wolf den. She’d probably join up with the maternal cabal and delight in sweetly interfering in the lives of her packmates. He’d made a bet with himself that Memory not only sushi-rolled her towels and put rose petals in with her clothes, she did the same for her friends.
She shouldn’t be sitting dejected, her aloneness an acute ache in the air.
“These are Es, Alexei,” Jaya reminded him. “They’re horrified by their behavior after they recover from brushing up against that awful cold nothingness, and then they fall over themselves apologizing, but it hurts Memory all the same.”
Jaw a brutal line, Alexei said, “I’m taking her out of here for the night.” Away from people who hurt her even if they didn’t mean to, and into the world of his wolf.
Jaya’s eyebrows shot up. “Um, you realize she curses your name on a daily basis?”
Alexei’s wolf bared its teeth inside him. “Good.” Anger fueled Memory’s strength.
* * *
• • •
MEMORY scuffed at the grass with one sneakered foot. She’d scared Cordelia today, and Cordelia was an intensely kind soul destined to be a medical E. Four hours ago, the other woman had made inadvertent physical contact with Memory after a session with Amara. Memory’s friend had whimpered, then thrown up.
Poor Cordelia had come by again not long ago, tears rolling down her sweet round face and her creamy skin blotchy. “I’m so sorry, Memory. I don’t know why I reacted that way. I’m so sorry.”
Memory had hugged Cordelia to show her there were no hard feelings, but as late afternoon darkened into early evening, she faced an unpalatable truth that had nothing to do with Renault’s subtle attacks on her confidence: her kind of darkness didn’t fit with the sunshine and warmth of Designation E.
She was the ugly stepchild.
No, that wasn’t fair to her fellow Es, her friends. Not one of them had been anything but mortified by their behavior. It didn’t matter how Memory tried to explain that it had to do with her and the echo of her work with Amara, they still looked like kicked puppies, all bruised eyes and shame.
How could she live in this community when she gave her friends nightmares?
A kiss of primal wildness against her senses, an edgy wolfish scent.
Memory gripped one of the posts that held up the porch roof and refused to look. Not even when a pair of scuffed boots stopped in front of her. “Nice skirt.”
Memory was wearing an ankle-length skirt in silvery white that was all air and clouds. She’d found it at a cut-rate price on a site that sold “seconds and remainders”—the idea of rescuing slightly blemished clothes from being discarded made her even happier than buying shiny, perfect things, and it was now her favorite site.
The “blemish” on this piece was a small drop of pink paint on the hem. To Memory, that just made the skirt even more wonderful and unique.
Her fellow Es had been agog the first time she’d worn it. At least that was one thing she’d changed for the better—the sedate Psy dress code was well on its way out of the compound. Cordelia had begun ordering colorful dresses with flared skirts and Joseph had found Hawaiian shirts, while Reema had discovered the joys of makeup.
Only the Arrows remained black-clad and unmoved by the change, but Memory was working on that. After discovering that it was Yuri’s birthday a few days back, she’d bought him a long-sleeved black T-shirt, such as those she’d noticed many of the squad wore under their high-collared and bulletproof uniform jackets—except her chosen tee had a thin stripe of silver down the outside of each sleeve.
Yuri had worn it today; it was hidden under his jacket, but he’d made a point to tell her that he’d caused a commotion among his squadmates with his “sudden stylistic prowess.” He’d also asked her advice on how to respond to an understated but clear overture from a senior female Arrow.
Memory’s heart had nearly burst in joy at the indication of Yuri’s growing world, but her friend wasn’t the male who stood in front of her, taking up all the air in the yard and blocking the last of the light.
“Hello, lioness.”
“Go away,” she muttered, wanting to brood alone—and definitely not anywhere near this wolf who’d ignored her for three weeks.
“Can you even walk in that skirt?” he asked dubiously.
She pulled up the skirt to show him her glittery sneakers. The stupid things were her favorites. Dropping her skirt when she realized she’d let him taunt her into betraying herself, she glared at the ground. “I said, go away.”
He tugged at a curl that had escaped her messy ponytail. When she slapped his hand away, he just found another curl to tug. Hands fisting, she jumped to her feet and put a foot of distance between them. “What do you want, you big, wolfy chicken?”
The beautiful golden god of a man—who was half demon—smiled at her instead of snarling in insult. “Want to get out of here?”
It was the only thing he could’ve said that would cut through her morose mood. “Yes, let’s go.” At least she could be furious with Alexei without making anyone feel bad—it certainly had no effect on him.
Her skirt flowed around her as she strode toward the trees, the fabric as light as air. Suspiciously silent at her side, Alexei easily kept pace. When they passed Jaya coming the other way, the other E stopped to enclose Memory in the warm acceptance of her arms, not minding that Memory had stiffened in instinctive self-protectiveness.
“Give him hell,” her friend whispered in her ear. “Arrows and wolves, they’re the same. Show him your teeth.”
Memory had every intention of biting Alexei with those teeth.
“Here.” Alexei handed her his jacket.
About to snub the offer, Memory looked at his face and realized the obstinate wolf wouldn’t take her deep into the forest unless she agreed to this. And Memory needed to leave, to get some clear air. Also, it was cold now that the sun had set. Snatching the olive-green thing from him, she shrugged into it, then rolled up the sleeves with quick motions.
The two of them had just stepped beyond the tree line when a roar of sound hit Memory’s telepathic senses. Not an attack. A call for help, directed at her. “Yuri!” She turned on her heel . . . and a scream split the air, reverberating against the trees.
* * *
• • •
ALEXEI was moving even before he’d consciously processed Memory’s reac
tion and the chilling scream that followed. “Talk to me!” he said to her as the two of them ran back to the compound.
“Yuri yelled for help!”
Fuck! Yuri was the most senior Arrow in the compound. Why would a man of his lethal skills call for an inexperienced E? It had to be bad.
“Go!” Memory yelled, a sob in her voice. “I can’t keep up! Yuri’s mind is gone! I can’t reach him!”
Alexei pounded into a ground-erasing run, his heart punching against his rib cage. He could have a catastrophic medical emergency on his hands. Sascha had briefed him on the compound when he first took over Indigo’s oversight task, and one of the things he’d learned from her was that many newly emergent Es didn’t know how to protect themselves against dangerous surges of emotion.
If Yuri was dead as a result of violence . . .
Memory was still standing, he reminded himself. It gave him hope. Until he scented wet iron on the air. Blood.
His gaze snagged on a fallen body.
Yuri was down with a bloody wound to the head. A silent weapon, because Alexei’s acute hearing had picked up nothing of the attack itself, only the aftermath. Three collapsed bodies lay on the ground nearby, all of them twitching.
Empaths who’d overloaded at the close proximity to violence.
Other black-clad men and women were hauling Es out of danger. But what the fuck was the danger? Who had managed to not only invade this deep into predatory changeling territory, but take down an Arrow honed by decades of active duty? He dropped down beside Yuri’s body, felt for a pulse with no real hope. The senior Arrow’s face was awash in blood, part of his skull blown off.
Jesus!
“He’s alive!”
An Arrow Alexei recognized as a trained medic slammed down beside him, already tearing off her jacket to stanch the bleeding.
Memory’s voice crashed into him at the same instant. “Abbot!” She hit the edge of the chaos, her chest heaving from her headlong run and her skirt like air around her. “Alexei, it’s got Abbot!”
Alexei snapped his head toward where he’d last seen the Arrow with black hair and searing blue eyes. Abbot had been grabbing Es and ’porting them out of danger, but now he stood with his weapon in his hand, and that weapon was pointed directly at a dark-eyed empath with a lovely oval face.
Jaya.
Alexei began to move, but he was too far away. He couldn’t knock the weapon out of Abbot’s hand faster than the man could activate it. Jaya held out her hands, palms up. “Abbot, habibi”—soft voice, no hesitation—“this isn’t you. Fight it. Use the bond that ties us together and fight it. I’m your wife. Your Jaya.”
As Alexei watched, a vein began to pulse in Abbot’s temple, sweat dripping down his face. His jaw clenched . . . and the gun began to change direction. Toward Abbot. All at once, Alexei knew who had taken out Yuri.
He was close enough now to slam his body into Abbot’s arm, but Abbot was a strong Arrow, and Alexei was a split second too late. The weapon went off.
Blood sprayed the air.
Jaya screamed, “NO!”
Her terror was grating claws on his skin, Abbot’s blood iron in his nose.
Memory ran past him in the direction of another Arrow—one who only stepped in for the odd security shift to keep her skills sharp. Elsewise, Cristabel was one of the squad’s most respected trainers. Right now, Cris was standing there, looking confused, doing nothing aggressive at all, but Alexei trusted Memory’s instincts. She’d been right about Abbot.
He took off in her wake, quickly passing her.
Cristabel was just reaching for her weapon when Alexei got to her. He knocked her out with an uppercut to the jaw. He was careful to pull the punch because Psy bones were weaker than changeling. Cristabel went down, but she was very much alive.
“Incapacitate yourselves and each other!” he yelled at the Arrows. “You are the threat!”
The black-clad men and women were used to making split-second decisions, and they’d witnessed both Abbot’s and Cristabel’s inexplicable behavior. One by one, they took one another down until only one was left. Amin, who’d incapacitated multiple of his brethren with quick efficiency, nodded at Alexei to do the same to him. But his eyes changed even as Alexei moved, a strange blankness coming over them.
His weapon was in his hand a heartbeat later.
Rather than pointing it at Alexei, he pointed it at an empath crouched on the grass, her hands over her ears as she whimpered and rocked back and forth. Alexei had only one choice. To put himself in between Amin and the E. He did so without hesitation . . . just as Amin collapsed.
Memory dropped the large rock she’d used to whack the Arrow over the back of the head. Eyes of pure obsidian caught Alexei’s. “It’s hunting us.”
Chapter 31
The Es and the Arrows are a unit.
—Zaira Neve to Ivy Jane Zen
AS ALEXEI MOVED toward the fallen form of Jaya’s beloved Abbot, Memory looked back toward Yuri. He was gone. Nerida must’ve teleported him out before she took herself out of the equation.
Jaya and Alexei were with Abbot.
Heart an agonized knot, Memory jolted herself toward Cordelia. Her movements were no longer those of a clockwork creature after over three weeks of healing, but today’s violence was a hammer beating at her skull.
Dropping down beside Cordelia’s whimpering body, Memory put her arms around her friend’s soft, curvy form and rocked with her. “The darkness is gone,” she reassured her in a firm tone. “It couldn’t hold on to the Arrows. It’s gone.”
Cordelia ducked her head, tucking herself against Memory’s chest, as if Memory were the taller one. Memory kept on rocking her even as she watched Alexei tear off his T-shirt and fold it into a rough pad to press against Abbot’s neck. The bullet had hit the side of that neck just above his jacket collar; blood gushed, and the only other teleporter in the compound was down, as was the medic who’d first responded to Yuri.
Abbot was dying.
And Yuri . . . His mind had just stopped, the telepathic disconnection a bruise inside Memory. Yuri had been meant to return home in an hour to read bedtime stories to Arrow children. They’d be waiting for him. As Jaya waited for her mate to open his eyes. Jaya, who worked with coma patients, but who could also feel the death agonies of the recently deceased.
Oh, God. Alexei didn’t know that. Memory began to release Cordelia and rise. If Abbot died while Jaya was so close, her hands cradling his head in her lap, Memory knew Jaya would go with him, falling into her love’s death.
Flickers around the compound, more Arrows teleporting in. Every muscle in Memory’s body locked, but that horrible and wrong darkness didn’t attempt another takeover. Ice filled the air, the Arrows focused on Alexei.
Memory found her voice on a furious wave of protectiveness. “It wasn’t Alexei! Yuri and Abbot shot themselves so they wouldn’t hurt us! I hit Amin!”
Aden Kai, the leader of the squad, stared directly at her. She’d met him once when he came to speak to the team here. He was quiet, too. But not like Yuri. Aden wasn’t peaceful. Aden was contained like a storm. His friend, Vasic, who’d just teleported out both Abbot and Jaya, was more like Yuri.
“What happened?” Aden hunkered down in front of her, and though he wasn’t a physically imposing man in comparison to Yuri or Alexei, his body built along more slender lines and his muscles lithe, power lived inside him. All the more deadly for not being worn openly.
Cordelia sobbed and tried to bury herself in Memory.
Squeezing her arms tighter around the other E, Memory held Aden’s unreadable dark gaze. “You need to leave. You’re scaring Cordelia.” She looked around. “Your Arrows are scaring everyone.”
No other E in the compound was in any way functional right now. Blank faces and tears, unconscious bodies, whimpering balls, every single train
ee aside from Memory had overloaded—not on the bloody violence, she realized all at once, but because of their close links to the Arrows. After weeks of interaction, they were almost all connected on the Honeycomb, Arrows and Es.
Inexplicably, Memory wasn’t linked to Yuri . . . but she could see that his light, it was gone, the connection severed.
“Stay away from the Es,” she ordered Aden in a harsh tone. “Find out who did this.”
Aden rose to meet Alexei, who’d walked toward them—and though the squad’s leader said nothing aloud, his fellow Arrows moved away from the dazed and fallen empaths. Aden’s people had expressionless down pat, but Memory sensed piercing distress beneath their icy faces.
Her heart ached for these soldiers who had already suffered too much pain, but she couldn’t help them, wasn’t that kind of empath. All she could do was hold her brethren and listen as Alexei spoke to Aden.
“Your Arrows put their lives on the line to protect the Es.” Alexei’s eyes glowed amber in the darkness that had fallen while blood spilled into the earth. “Pretty sure they were being aimed like weapons at the Es, but they refused to buckle under. I didn’t see Yuri shoot himself, but I saw Abbot force the gun toward himself.”
“Arrows have the most impenetrable shields in the Net.” Aden’s high cheekbones cut against the olive of his skin. “You’re saying they fell victim to mind control?”
“I’m telling you what I saw.” Alexei didn’t budge an inch, as powerful as Aden but in a far more primal way. “And my point is that they didn’t crumple under the pressure—the Arrows here didn’t lay a single finger on an E except to protect.”