Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity)

by Nalini Singh

  That familial link wasn’t visible in the photo. Wearing a checked shirt, his jaw dark with stubble and his sleeves shoved up, the leopard male stood looking down at a tiny baby cradled in one arm—a baby who was staring up at him in equal fascination. One day, that’d be Alexei, she whispered inside her mind. A big, tough changeling holding their baby with protectiveness, tenderness.

  Below the screen, a black cat napped on the doctor’s touch keyboard. The projected letters and numbers glowed on its silky fur.

  “Midnight’s favorite spot,” the doctor said with a laugh before picking up her pet and dropping him to the floor after a stroke. Midnight’s expression displayed disgruntled affront at being so summarily impeached from his spot.

  Memory smiled when the imperious cat came to wind himself through her legs. Jitterbug had done the same while she was on her feet. She bent and held out her fingers for the cat to sniff. After a thoughtful pause, he decided she was an acceptable individual and reached up to place his paws on her shins. She gathered him up in her arms and began to pet him while Alexei stood rigid beside her.

  “Please sit.” Keelie Schaeffer indicated a U-shaped seating area beside her computer station. When Alexei went to refuse, Memory shot him a look. He scowled at her, but followed her onto a sofa, while Keelie Schaeffer sat across from them in her computer chair. Midnight immediately sprawled over Memory’s lap, a liquid creature.

  Able to sense the coiled tension in Alexei, his wolf a growl at the back of his throat she could almost hear, Memory wove her fingers with his again.

  Emotions turbulent, he accepted the touch—and the loving affection she sent him through the mating bond. “Do you need to do a blood test?” he asked Dr. Schaeffer.

  “No, my research isn’t focused on DNA.” The doctor brought up a document on her computer. “It’s a psychological profile validated by blind tests set up by colleagues—my task was to predict which profiles were of rogues. The paper hasn’t been published yet, but my success rate in separating rogues from non-rogues was one hundred percent.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “The problem arises when I look at those who have the markers for going rogue, but haven’t yet done so—only a minuscule minority of possibles ever actually go rogue.”

  Alexei tapped their clasped hands on his thigh. “You’re saying all rogues share certain traits?”

  “Every single one I’ve studied, and I threw a wide net.” The doctor picked up a pad of paper and a pen. “Consider this a representation of every changeling in the world.” She drew a large circle. “Now these are the people with the indicators.” A much smaller circle within. “And these are the rogues.” A dot within the smaller circle.

  Memory knew why the doctor was belaboring this point—she wanted Alexei to know that even if he had the markers, that didn’t mean he would ever go rogue. Memory also knew Alexei wouldn’t see it that way. But while she might be an atypical E, she was an E, and she sensed no hint of instability in Alexei. She wouldn’t have brought him here if she hadn’t already been certain of the answers.

  “I want to know, whatever the answer.” Primal energy along their bond, Alexei’s wolf brushing up against her. “Let’s do it.”

  The interview took two hours. Afterward, Keelie Schaeffer asked Alexei if he’d be willing to talk about his brother. Alexei’s skin pulled tight over his cheekbones, but he gave a curt nod. Though Memory listened with care, she couldn’t see what it was Keelie Schaeffer was looking for in the brothers’ profiles.

  The doctor included a number of questions about their father, too, but Alexei had limited information on the man who’d died while he was only seven years of age.

  At some point, Memory rose to make sandwiches and coffee.

  Midnight supervised.

  Darkness had fallen outside, the trees whispering under moonlight. Dr. Schaeffer’s mate was working late leading a training session on strategy for senior soldiers, so it was only the three of them—and Midnight—in the house. Memory was glad of that; she knew in her gut that Alexei wouldn’t have been as open with another male in the area, especially when that male was a DarkRiver soldier.

  He hadn’t remained seated for long, prowling the room while answering the doctor’s questions. Midnight had paced with him for a while before curling up on the sofa to nap again.

  “Thank you for that.” Keelie Schaeffer put down the datapad on which she’d been taking notes, though she’d also asked Alexei’s permission to record the interview. Rubbing the back of her neck, she stretched out her spine, then asked Alexei if he’d like to walk outside while they talked about the results.

  Alexei’s response was immediate. “I just need to know.” He gripped the back of the sofa behind Memory.

  “You don’t have the markers.”

  The air hung in silence, but inside Memory, the mating bond surged. Throat thick, she jumped up and ran to throw her arms around her golden wolf. His own clamped around her, his scent in her every breath and his claws so careful against her body.

  “I told you so,” she whispered, rising on tiptoe to kiss him.

  “No one likes a know-it-all,” he grumbled, but he was kissing her back.

  Dr. Schaeffer’s smile was wide when the two of them looked back at her at last. “I’m glad to be able to give you good news.”

  “My brother?” Alexei asked, a roughness to his voice that was crushed gravel.

  The other woman’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Alexei. Brodie did have the markers.” She rose then, and the three of them, plus Midnight, walked outside into the moonlit forest while Dr. Schaeffer talked them through her conclusions.

  She explained that the signs of possible rogue status were many and subtle, but a major one was a lack of impulse control, or other thrill-seeking behavior. “It’s a blunt hammer indicator.” The researcher put her hands into the pockets of her long cardigan. “On its own it means nothing—especially in a pack of predators. It must be accompanied by myriad other factors, and even that isn’t a guarantee a person will go rogue.”

  Stopping beside a stream, she watched the ribbon of water for a long moment before saying, “That’s partly why I haven’t published my paper. It could do a lot of damage, mark people as being in danger of going rogue—and maybe turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” Alexei shoved a hand through his hair. “Brodie would’ve probably killed himself if he knew ahead of time.” Stark words. “My big brother, the brother I grew up with, would’ve never taken the risk. Not after seeing what happened to our father.”

  Memory could see him struggling with his love for Brodie against all that had happened, because Brodie hadn’t known. Hugging him from the side, she drenched him in love. He crushed her close as he said, “What will you do?” to Dr. Schaeffer.

  “I plan to make my research known to a small, tight circle, people I trust to follow the rules—the main one being that we only profile adults who come to us. I’ll keep on trying to work on the question of why a minority of people with the markers go rogue, while others live a full life. I’m missing something, and until I know it, it would be negligent of me to spread the information.”

  Dr. Schaeffer shifted on her heel to face them. “Creating a usable profile has only ever been my initial goal. My true objective is to find a way to stop the process before a changeling goes rogue—or to at least be able to reverse it.” Echoes of old pain in her gaze. “Our pack’s lost people, too, and the scars of such a loss, they linger.”

  “What you’ve been able to do for me, it’s a gift.” Rough words from Alexei. “Thank you.”

  “Live your life with your mate, Alexei. Fear has no claim on you.”

  Epilogue

  Thank you for making a special trip to introduce us to your mate. You don’t know how much that meant to us. When we lost Brodie and Etta, we lost a son and daughter. Then it
felt as if we’d lost you, too. We’re so joyful that’s no longer true.

  —Note from Etta’s parents to Alexei

  THREE DAYS AFTER returning from Matthias’s den to visit with Etta’s warmhearted and loving parents, and two weeks after the meeting with Dr. Schaeffer, Memory sat with Lucy. She and the nurse were sharing a small plate of pecan sugar cookies while they watched over pups playing in the safe area in front of the den.

  The two of them were present to make sure the pups didn’t hurt each other or get into accidental trouble. Memory had already petted and comforted one who’d tried to climb a tree only to suffer a fall on his furry butt. As she did so, she’d noticed that her skin had darkened after so much time out of the cage and in the light of the sun. It had a glowing depth to it now, a rich health.

  “Other than nursing, this is one of my favorite jobs.” Lucy finished off a cookie. “Watching these hellions is a blast.” She growled back at a pup who’d bounded over to growl at her.

  Elodie threw back her head in a wobbly howl before racing back to join her playmates—some in human form, some in wolf.

  “Mine, too,” Memory said. “Being with them, feeling their happy emotions, it just whisks any stress away.” She was on a constant rotation of PsyNet cleaning sessions, followed by recovery time, then E studies. Rinse and repeat. The bonus was that she could stuff her face with as many cookies as she wanted; her psychic burn was huge.

  “Memory, look.” Laughing, Lucy pointed to a pup who had the tail of another pup in his teeth and was mischievously dancing around behind the second pup as the pup tried to see what his tail was caught on. It was obvious the first pup wasn’t hurting his friend, just playing a game, so they let it be.

  “Thank you for being my friend, Lucy,” Memory said, the words just bubbling up inside her. “It means a lot to me.”

  Lucy’s gaze was soft when she glanced over. “You say things like that and you wonder why I—and so many of the pack—like hanging out with you.” She tugged on one of Memory’s curls, as the wolf pup had pulled on his friend’s tail. “You’re kind and funny and you take no shit from Alexei and I like being around you.”

  Memory hugged the words close to her heart. And when she felt a kiss of wildness inside that heart, she smiled. “Alexei’s coming.”

  “Ugh.” Lucy pushed at Memory’s upper arm. “You have that goofy just-mated look on your face. I’m going to throw up any second now.”

  Grinning, Memory got up off the rock on which she and Lucy had perched. “Can you hold the fort while I go say hello?” Alexei was on a security shift, likely only in the vicinity for a short period.

  “Shoo. Go make kissy faces.” Lucy waved her hand. “I’ll manage the rampaging horde.”

  Memory navigated her way through said horde—surviving with only a couple of “attacks” and playfully threatened bites—and made her way into the trees. She knew her mate was nearby. However, when he walked out of the trees, she was surprised to see him wearing his jacket on such a bright sunny day. Not only that, he had it closed over his chest, his arm kind of cradling one side of it.

  “Did you hurt your arm?” She hurried closer.

  Unzipping his jacket, Alexei brought out a tiny ball of orange-and-white fur he’d had tucked inside.

  Memory froze.

  * * *

  • • •

  ALEXEI hoped like hell he’d done the right thing.

  Stepping toward his mate, he held out his palm—on which sat the tiniest kitten in the fucking universe. “Runt of the litter,” he said, running his fingers over the damn thing’s body because it cried if he didn’t. “Got sharp claws though. Tiny beast did this.” He pushed aside his jacket to show her the drops of blood on his white T-shirt from where the kitten had clawed at him.

  When Memory didn’t make any attempt to touch the kitten, Alexei said, “You’re right. He’s probably too much trouble for a pet. I’ll drop him off in the forest. If he survives, he survi—”

  Memory rescued the kitten from his palm and held it close to her body, her fingers already stroking the creature. The azure of her nail varnish was bright against the kitten’s fur. The ungrateful brat began to purr. Alexei scowled. “That rat with orange fur didn’t purr for me.”

  Memory glared at him. “He knows you don’t like cats.”

  The kitten rose up to put its paws on Memory’s chest. She looked down . . . and her body, it went motionless again.

  Alexei held his breath.

  And the kitten meowed and rubbed its head against her chest. She laughed that unique, lovely laugh full of emotion that tangled around him, and began to scratch the spot the kitten had demanded.

  Her curls bounced around her head.

  Wolf and man both relaxed. It had been a calculated gamble, bringing her the kitten. He hadn’t considered it until he’d seen her petting Keelie Schaeffer’s pet. Her grief over Jitterbug wasn’t gone, but it had been tempered. These days, when she spoke about her pet, it was to tell him sweet stories of the fun she and Jitterbug’d had together.

  He’d also become aware of the growing pet population in the empathic compound. Jaya was back with Phantom—and both had fallen in love with the blanket Memory had knitted for her friend’s pet. The cat had been known to drag it out of his basket and onto the sunny porch so he could lounge in comfort.

  While Phantom was, at present, the only resident cat, Ivy Jane dropped by often with her energetic mutt, three other trainees had dogs, one had a bird that followed the E around of its own free will, and another one had a hamster. He’d also heard that a family of wildcats regularly visited Sascha, each member waiting patiently for their turn to be showered with attention.

  Es and pets seemed to go together.

  “You keeping the little monster, then?”

  Another glare that made the wolf inside him grin. “He’s too small to be out in the forest.”

  “I don’t know. He’s a feral thing.” He growled for good measure.

  The kitten hissed back at him before cuddling up to Memory. The tiny creature seemed not to realize it was all bone and a bit of fur. Alexei had picked him out of the litter exactly because of that. That litter had been in DarkRiver territory, but he’d been given first pick when he’d told the leopards why he wanted a kitten.

  The runt might be tiny, but he’d also been the most ferocious.

  Now, the kitten jumped out of Memory’s hands to land on the forest floor. Tail in the air, it began to prowl around. “Thinks he’s king of the forest instead of a bite-sized snack.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, Memory glared at him again . . . then ran over without warning to throw her arms around him. He lifted her up with a grip on her waist, smiling smugger than the cat as she kissed him again and again. The wolf inside him rubbed up against his skin. “I guess this means you want to keep the tiny beast,” he said darkly.

  “I know you like him, so stop pretending.” Pressing her nose to his, she gave him a stern look, but she was stroking his nape with her fingers while he held her with her feet off the ground. “What will the rest of your pack say when I bring a kitten into the den?”

  “Our pack,” he said, “will say it’s all Riley’s fault. He went and mated a leopard, and now we’re inundated with cats.”

  “Oh! Beast, come back here!” Memory wiggled down and went to collect her pet—who was about to wander off into the forest.

  “Beast?” He grinned. “I like it. And don’t worry about him getting lost. I’ve got his scent.”

  But the kitten was curled up against Memory’s chest, purring like an old-fashioned motor, so he put his arm around his mate and they walked back to the den. The pups gathered around them in astonishment when they reached the play area. Memory put Beast down and all parties stared at one another for a long time.

  “No biting Memory’s beast,” was the consensus before
the pups returned to their play.

  Beast stayed back, watchful and probably planning world domination.

  Picking the kitten up again, Memory turned to Alexei. “I love you.”

  “I know.” He laughed when she elbowed him, sunlight in his soul. “I love you, too, lioness. Even if you do let me get mauled by tiny beasts.” Reaching out, he scratched the beast on its head.

  It threatened to bite his fingers.

  Memory leaned up and kissed his jaw. “You’re not on security shift, are you?”

  “No, I went to get your ferocious beast.”

  “Then come inside and I’ll kiss your sorely mauled body better.”

  Alexei’s vision altered, his wolf rising to the surface. “Come on, mate, let’s go scandalize the beast.”

  * * *

  • • •

  IT took a month for Kaleb to notice the change. The PsyNet area around Memory Aven-Rose’s mind was healthier, stronger . . . solid.

  Much more so than could be explained by her fledgling abilities.

  His eyes went to the place where the wild amber bond disappeared into nothing. A bond the neosentience of the PsyNet continued to protect with an intense and strange secretiveness. And a bond that connected the PsyNet with a changeling pack. Not just any pack, but the biggest and most powerful in the world.

  Kaleb couldn’t access SnowDancer minds via the link that appeared to go nowhere, but was it possible the invasion was occurring in the other direction? Primal wolf energy entering the PsyNet? It would do the wolves no harm—choice underlay a healthy PsyNet, else Psy would’ve forced humans into bonds long ago.

  To test his theory, he checked the area around Silver’s mind. Healthy. Extremely so. And his former aide and current director of EmNet wasn’t an empath, so that eliminated one possible factor. In point of fact, the two women had only a single similarity: each was mated to a dominant predatory changeling who was part of a sprawling pack.

  Whatever was happening, it appeared to be a passive transfer that no one else had noticed. Kaleb would tell only Sahara. These bonds could not become political. They were too important.