Shards of Hope

by Nalini Singh

  A possessiveness that in itself was like insanity.

  "Zaira." His body trembled from the vicious control he'd managed to assert over himself. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes." She wanted every part of him she could hold, at least for these hours where she was sane and rational and not a monster--because she wasn't sure she could hang on to her reason as she spiraled further and further into emotion. Further and further into the extraordinary, deadly, powerful man who was her lover. "I want you." Drawing him closer, she pressed her mouth to his.

  Kissing was a wonderful, wonderful thing. She loved being able to taste him, loved being able to feel his breath as the perspiration-damp heat of his body rubbed against hers. It was so intimate, more intimate than anything but his mind open to her own. She slid hers open just enough for him and he swept inside to deepen the already intense intimacy of the contact.

  Afraid time was running out, that she wouldn't get to experience the entirety of this sexual inferno with him, she moved her hands to his waistband and undid the button, lowered the zip. He cooperated, kicking off his pants, but one of his hands still cradled her jaw and neck, the other on her breast as he continued to kiss her as if he couldn't get enough.

  Zaira. Zaira. Zaira.

  Something fell dully to the floor as his mind burned with her name, and she realized it must be the organizer with the manuals. She should've probably read those so she'd know what she was doing, but all she wanted to do was touch Aden. Rubbing against him, she made a frustrated sound. Aden.

  He didn't ask her what she wanted, just lifted off her, hooked his fingers into the sides of her pants and panties and pulled. His breath caught as she was exposed and he paused with her clothing halfway down her thighs, but she twisted to remind him she wanted to be naked.

  Jaw clenched, he got the items off. When he would've come back down, she touched her toes to his briefs, her leg bent. Getting the hint, he got off the bed and stripped off the briefs before returning to his position over her. She barely glimpsed him. I wanted to admire you.

  *

  ZAIRA'S words almost ripped away what infinitesimal control Aden had managed to claw back so he could be certain she was ready. Later, he said, one of his hands on the side of her face as he held her in place for another kiss. This one was raw, deep, almost rough, but she didn't push him away. Wrapping her legs around him instead, she arched into him.

  Wet heat slid over his cock, her arousal unhidden.

  His heart slammed against his ribs.

  Then she began to kiss his shoulders, his neck, and he knew he was one more caress away from losing it. Running his hand down her side, he insinuated it between their bodies in an effort to distract her--and pleasure her. "I have to make sure you're ready." That part of the manual he'd memorized; if Zaira was giving him the gift of her trust, he would do nothing to abuse it.

  She moaned at the first brush of his rough-skinned fingertips. "I am ready." Nails digging into his shoulders, she writhed under him. "But . . . Aden . . . what . . ."

  Sweat broke out over his body at the now wordless gasps that spilled from her mouth as he stroked his fingers through her liquid-soft folds to find her clitoris and rub. His fingers were wet with her, the lubrication both easing his way and driving him crazy. When he moved his hand lower, to nudge at the entrance to her body, she bit him on the arm.

  "No?" he asked, his muscles so tense it felt as if they would snap.

  Why did you stop?

  Her response made his penis jump. Sliding one finger into her in a slow, relentless push that made her moan, he pressed his thumb against her clitoris at the same time. "Like this?"

  Hips moving against him, she scored his back with her nails. He fisted his free hand against the bed at the silent answer and moved his finger in and out of her while caressing her clitoris in a ragged motion that echoed his harsh breathing.

  Zaira didn't seem to mind, her body squeezing tight around his finger less than half a minute later. Biting down on the back of her own fist to muffle her scream, she melted around him. He was at once deeply, unashamedly proud of giving her such extreme pleasure, and on the verge of breaking.

  Withdrawing his finger from her body as he called on every ounce of his Arrow training to hold on to his splintered control, he cupped her damp heat and sought her mouth for a kiss. She opened for him, her hands tight in his hair as she claimed him in return.

  Licking her tongue over his before she broke the kiss, she raised her eyelashes. "Now," she said, and shifted her body so that his penis nudged at her wet heat.

  Aden's brain short-circuited.

  *

  ZAIRA could feel Aden's ragged control in the painful tension of his muscles, but he still found the willpower to say, "You're certain?" His voice was hoarse, the hand he'd placed once more on the side of her face tender.

  Her body spasmed on emptiness even as her heart, that battered, twisted organ, ached. "Yes."

  He didn't ask again, just gripped her under the hip with one strong hand and pushed the tip of his erection into her passion-swollen entrance.

  "Aden."

  Sliding his other hand under her neck to hold it gently but with unmistakable possessiveness, he said, "This'll hurt."

  Kissing him again in answer, she spoke to him mind to mind. I choose this pain, she said. I choose you.

  Zaira. Her name held so much passion, so much emotion she almost couldn't bear it.

  Except it filled her up to overflowing . . . and then Aden filled her. It was slow and hard and deep and it took her breath away. A tear rolled down her face and it had nothing to do with pain, everything to do with the emotions that clawed her heart. Wrapping her arms around Aden's neck, she pressed her cheek to his.

  Zaira, are you--

  Don't stop, she whispered. Don't stop.

  Stroking his hand over her thigh, he pulled back, then pushed in again, even slower this time. It felt . . . Zaira's body arched, her mind splintered. But she wasn't lost. Aden was there around her, with her.

  It's always been you.

  His voice, his words penetrated the cascade of sensation taking her over and it was too much. Too beautiful. Too precious. Too wonderful. Skin threatening to burst, she held on to him as tight as she could and she hoped she had the will to fight the rage and the broken need that lived in her, with or without the madness.

  For him, she'd fight. For Aden. Always, for Aden.

  Chapter 50

  BEATRICE LAY CURLED up in bed, her body hurting from the beating Blake had given her as punishment for her failure. She hadn't been able to use the knife on the target, had thrown up instead; she deserved the penalty he'd meted out.

  "You are a pathetic excuse for an Arrow." He'd spit on her after the beating. "I'm not sure you deserve a second chance, but I'll give it to you in two days. Be ready to do what needs to be done or you'll be demoted back to a worthless piece of trash no one sees, much less considers for a partnership."

  She'd promised him she'd be ready, but her body shook at the idea of carving a living being with a blade. She'd been taught how to in classes under Ming LeBon, been shown exactly how much pain and damage a body and mind could bear before it broke, but it was easier when practicing on corpses.

  Real people bled. Real people cried and screamed.

  Slapping her hands over her ears, she rocked, knowing she had to get this under control or she'd lose the only person who cared anything about her, the only person who would miss her if she was gone. "I can do it," she whispered. "I can do it. I can make him proud."

  Chapter 51

  MIANE LEVEQUE ARRIVED in Venice at ten p.m. the same day. She came to the compound dressed in a sleek red dress paired with black heels, her hair in a flawless twist at the back of her head and her face made up with artful precision. Her lips were a bold red that echoed her dress.

  It is as much armor as our clothing, Zaira telepathed to Aden when they met the BlackSea contingent of three in the courtyard surrounded by the weathered
and vine-covered dual-level buildings of the compound.

  Yes, Aden responded.

  The two of them had caught five hours of sleep when scouts alerted them to the presence of the BlackSea team in a Venice hotel. The water-based changelings had made their presence obvious only after they got into Venice without setting off a single alarm, even though the squad had been watching out for them. Zaira was certain the show of stealth had been a deliberate display that warned the squad to take them seriously.

  "Jim Savua's body is in a refrigerated lab space within," Aden said, taking the lead.

  "Olivia?" Miane asked, holding Aden's gaze with an unblinking black stare that made the tiny hairs on Zaira's arms rise; she had the distinct sense that while the BlackSea alpha appeared human right then, she wasn't, not fully.

  "Olivia Coletti is in detox." Aden didn't look away from that unnerving gaze. "She's said her daughter's name but nothing else."

  Miane's expression didn't change but her eyes became even colder. "I want to see her." It was an order.

  "The squad has no reason to trust you," Aden said flatly, and Zaira realized he was responding as another alpha, one who was making it plain that Miane Leveque was a guest in his territory with no rights to demand anything.

  A changeling alpha would respect nothing less.

  "If she comes to harm in your care, it will be considered a hostile act."

  "Her brain is fried on Halcyon--she did the harm herself."

  Zaira caught the slight change in Miane's features, identified it as surprise. The BlackSea alpha hadn't expected drugs to be in the mix.

  Stance becoming less aggressive, she said, "I would request a chance to talk to Olivia." This time, the words were polite. "She may speak to me when she wouldn't to you."

  Aden held her gaze before giving a small nod. "We'll permit the visitation, but you'll be observed."

  "Please make certain the observer isn't in close proximity. She needs to scent her pack, no one else."

  "Understood."

  "Jim?"

  "This way."

  Aden led the BlackSea alpha and her two guards to the lab. With the Venice compound clearly compromised, there was no reason to maintain secrecy. Those Arrows who wanted and had earned a life out of the spotlight had already relocated to other covert squad properties. Most had chosen the valley.

  This compound would soon cease to exist.

  Inside the lab, Miane Leveque stepped close to Jim Savua's thin but still muscled body in silence and took his hand. His brown skin was dull and yellowed against the healthy glow of hers, his face bearing the ravages of Halcyon. A haunting humming sound came from Miane's throat a second later, the purity of it sinking into Zaira's bones and surging through her blood.

  Reaching out to touch her fingers to the male's closed eyelids after what was clearly a song of sorrow, the BlackSea alpha turned to the pathologist. "The drug use is confirmed?" she asked and though her tone was even, it held the roughness of grief.

  "Beyond any doubt."

  "Thank you." She turned to Aden, a wet gleam in her eyes.

  The sign of vulnerability surprised Zaira . . . except Miane Leveque wasn't vulnerable even at that instant. Her strength pulsed under her skin, her sadness stealing nothing from the anger that burned in her gaze.

  An alpha mourning a lost packmate and unafraid to show her emotions.

  "If the squad has no objections," she said, "we will take our packmate to the sea that was his home."

  Aden looked to the pathologist. "Release the body."

  Walking out with the BlackSea alpha after she ordered one of her guards to arrange the transport, Aden held out a blindfold. "If you wish to see Olivia, there are certain conditions. Including the fact that you alone will be taken to where she's being held."

  A sudden stiffness in the spine of the tall, wide-shouldered male in a black suit who shadowed Miane. He leaned down to speak in her ear, his voice so quiet that Zaira picked up nothing. The BlackSea alpha angled her head to respond and her voice, too, was subvocal. One thing was clear, however. The two were having an argument.

  He doesn't want her to go alone and he's determined to push the point, Zaira 'pathed to Aden. Certainly no cipher.

  Aden glanced at her. A strong alpha isn't scared by the strength of those around him or her, Commander.

  Zaira resisted the temptation to touch him, though it was difficult when he was once again making her heart ache. Who do you think will win this argument?

  I wouldn't bet against either.

  Miane Leveque turned back to them. "Will transporting Olivia here do her harm?"

  "Yes," Aden replied. "She's currently hooked up to drip meds and in a special medical bed that monitors her vitals."

  The BlackSea alpha held out her hand for the blindfold, gave it to the guard who'd argued with her, the one who was most probably her lieutenant. Jaw clenched, he nonetheless wrapped it around her eyes and tied it securely, his expression making it clear that if anything happened to his alpha, he would rip them all to shreds with his bare hands.

  Zaira decided she liked him.

  Abbot had been on standby for this contingency and now appeared to teleport Miane Leveque to the facility, along with Zaira. Aden remained in Venice with Miane's guards, a deliberate decision on his part--he wanted to make sure he was on hand should BlackSea have brought more reinforcements.

  At present, the squad had no way of knowing whether or not the water-based changelings had acted against the squad as a group, or whether Jim and Olivia had broken away for reasons of their own.

  Guiding the alpha to the correct room with a touch of her fingertips against Miane's upper arm, Zaira ushered her inside. "You may remove your blindfold once I shut the door." The room was a generic infirmary room, with no windows and nothing else that would betray its location.

  "Thank you."

  Zaira pulled the door shut, authorizing a computronic lock before removing herself from the vicinity and using her organizer to connect to the feed from the room. Having already pulled down the blindfold, Miane Leveque let it hang around her neck as she closed the distance from the door to the bed.

  Reaching Olivia, who had her eyes closed, Miane put her hands on either side of the woman's face and leaned in so close that her breath mingled with Olivia's. Her lips moved, the words inaudible.

  Zaira increased the volume levels to maximum and barely caught, ". . . you home. I am here."

  A promise, she surmised.

  "Wake."

  This time, it was an order, in the same alpha tone Zaira had heard Remi use in RainFire, the same tone Aden could put in his own voice.

  Olivia's eyes fluttered open. The clarity of the feed allowed Zaira to see that her gaze was dull, but it sharpened quickly. "Miane." The single word came out a sob.

  Stroking back Olivia's hair, Miane leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. "Shh, I have you."

  Raising one thin arm, her skin still bearing the yellowish tint of Halcyon, Olivia grabbed at her alpha's wrist. "Persephone. They have Persephone."

  "Who?" Miane asked, the harsh anger of her echoing the emotions in Zaira's heart at the thought of a vulnerable child in the hands of the enemy.

  Olivia shook her head, her face crumpling. Her eyes phased out at the same time, going dull and staring out into nothing.

  "Olivia." Miane's voice was alpha again, her packmate's name imbued with command.

  A sucked-in breath as Olivia struggled to focus. She came back enough to say. "E-mail. They sent photos of our baby." Sobbing took her over. "Killed Cary. They killed him, said they'd kill our baby, too, if I . . ."

  This time when she phased out, she didn't come back, the Halcyon damage yet too deep. Instead of leaving, Miane Leveque kicked off her high-heeled shoes and got into bed with her distressed packmate, holding her close and murmuring things too soft for the microphones to pick up.

  It took fifteen minutes for Olivia to fall asleep again.

  Leaving her with another kiss,
the BlackSea alpha pulled up the blindfold.

  *

  ADEN took Zaira's report telepathically when she returned, glanced at Miane Leveque afterward. "Are you aware of your packmate's e-mail address?"

  "Malachai is just retrieving it." Miane's face was all hard angles, her eyes pieces of jet. "Olivia was too affected by the ravages of Halcyon to lie. Someone used her daughter as leverage to get her to commit these acts."

  I agree with her, Zaira said, remembering the anguished pain in Olivia's voice. Olivia's medical readings also indicated extreme distress.

  "We've cooperated with you far beyond what anyone could expect," Aden said when Malachai spoke quietly into his alpha's ear. "We're also willing to assist you in retrieving the child, but for that, we need the data from your packmate's e-mail."

  "The enemy of my enemy . . . ?" Raising an eyebrow, Miane glanced at the phone Malachai had just handed her.

  Rage burned in those black eyes.

  Turning the phone toward Aden without a word, she waited as Aden and Zaira scanned the image.

  Zaira's own rage roared to the surface at the photograph of a small, teary-eyed girl clinging desperately to a rag doll with red hair. Her dress was dirty and her surroundings barren, the bed on which she sat nothing but a cot without a mattress. The doll's hair, of what appeared to be thick red wool, obscured over half of Persephone's face, but there was no hiding the thinness of that face, or of her body. It was clear she hadn't been given enough food or any real care.

  They've put her in a cage. The insane little girl inside Zaira had her lifting her head to meet Miane Leveque's eyes. "I will find her for you, bring her home."

  The alpha's dangerous expression didn't alter as she said, "I'll accept any help. I know Psy have teleporters who can use people's faces as anchors. Can you teleport to her?"

  "I'm telepathing the image through to a teleporter to verify," Aden replied.

  Vasic? Zaira asked.

  Yes. If he can't get to someone, no one can. Jaw a hard line, he was quiet for a minute before shaking his head. "He can't get a lock--her face is too obscured and the room too generic. Do you have a better photograph of her?"