She shook her head. “It was to protect me. To protect the children. The less I knew, the less they could take from me if I was ever broken.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore—you won’t be retaken.” Dev did not let go of what was his. “And Jon—that’s his name—is safe. The Council knows if they touch the boy, it’s a declaration of war.”
“Jon ... Jonquil Duchslaya,” she murmured slowly. “I’m glad he’s protected...God, he screamed so much.” She dropped her head in her hands, her entire body shaking. “And I had to pretend that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t care.”
His own body strained toward her, but how could he go to her when he’d put her in a cage himself? “You shouldn’t have. You were Silent—without emotion.”
She lifted her head, eyes shining in the light coming in from the corridor. “There’s being cold, and then there’s such a thing as being without conscience. I’ve always had a conscience, and it keeps me awake every single night.”
“Katya,” he began, not knowing what he was going to say.
“Do you think he’d see me? Jon?” She folded her arms around herself. “I need to say sorry. I need to do that much at least.”
Dev knew about demons, saw too many in her eyes. Losing the war to keep his distance, he closed the door and crossed the carpet. “I’ll ask.”
“Thank you.” She scooted back as he sat down on the bed. “You should go now.”
“I’m not leaving you like this.” Her eyes were stark in a face gone white, her body shivering in spite of the blankets.
“I want to be alone.”
“The hell you do.” Swearing under his breath, he got into the bed and, ignoring Katya’s protests, maneuvered her into his lap. “Quiet,” he snapped when she pushed at him.
She went still. “Even I know that’s not the appropriate thing to say in this situation.”
The overly prim response should’ve made him laugh. But he continued to feel the remembered terror in her body, her heart racing so fast he thought it might bruise itself against her ribs. Keeping one arm around her body, the other in her hair, he crushed her to him, knowing she needed the sensation, but also knowing she’d never ask for it. Not now.
Slowly, the stiffness drained out of her, one of her hands creeping under his T-shirt to spread out over his pulse. Her hand was cool, or maybe it was that his body was too hot. As always, he couldn’t control his reactions around her. It didn’t matter. Instead of shoring up his shields, all he wanted to do was offer comfort, give her a way out of that dark room where she’d been trapped without sight, without sound, without touch.
“Tiara told me she was in Paris not long ago.”
Startled at her choice of subject, he slid his hand down to her nape, squeezing gently. “Hmm.”
“She said she went to visit her parents.” Her fingers stroked over his skin in a touch that reached far deeper than anyone else ever had. “She said her mother made her cake and coffee every afternoon, and brushed her hair for her every night, while her dad splurged on a day spa for both her and her mother, took them shopping, and bought chocolate for her to snack on on the airjet ride home.”
Dev looked down, but Katya had tucked her head against him, her lashes delicate fans against her cheeks. “Sounds like she was spoiled.”
“That’s what she said, too.” Those fingers stroked lower, curving over his ribs. He knew he should stop her before she inadvertently went too far, but he didn’t. Because even now, her skin was a little clammy, her heart jittery.
“What else did Ti share?” Shifting his hold, he closed his hand over her thigh.
She stayed put—though he felt the tremors beneath her skin. “That she expects any man who wants her to spoil her just as badly.”
“Was Tag in the room when she said that?”
“Of course.”
He glimpsed the faintest shadow of a smile. “You think she was teasing him.”
“I know she was teasing him. It’s amazing how much the eyes can say.”
“You must’ve learned to read expressions very early in the Net,” he said, trying to ignore the fact that her fingers were tracing the top edge of his jeans in a maddening caress. “No one can control every minute movement.”
“It’s much more difficult with the Silent,” she murmured, tucking her fingers at his hip, a single aching centimeter under his waistband. “Everything’s in very small increments.”
“Yeah?” Reaching down, he tugged at her hand—no man was that good.
She resisted. “You feel interesting here.” The brush of her thumb over his hip bone.
Dear God in heaven. “Katya,” he all but groaned, “unless you want to be stripped naked in about two seconds flat, you can’t keep your hand there.” He was already hard beneath her. One more touch and he’d snap.
He saw her swallow, but she didn’t remove her hand. “The sensations would be incredible,” she murmured. “If we were naked.”
“Jesus.” Pulling off her hand before he gave in to temptation, he closed his own around it. “You’re mad at me, remember?”
“Yes. But according to Tiara, sexual contact doesn’t necessarily have to involve an emotional tie.”
Dev wondered exactly how much time Ti and Katya had been spending together. “She was probably trying to jerk Tag’s chain.”
A frown. “Even so, it’s true, isn’t it? People can have sex without liking each other.”
“Yes.” It was an answer gritted out through clenched teeth.
Her eyes focused on him. “Have you ever had it with someone you disliked?”
“No.” He didn’t have to think about it. “I tend to take sex seriously.”
A pause. “Yet you’re aroused by me.” Those eyes locked with his again, and his gut clenched against a bruiser of a sucker punch. Because Katya wasn’t scared anymore. She was pissed.
“And I,” she continued, “am very much someone you dislike.”
Leaning forward, he tugged back her head. “I didn’t realize you were so good at seduction.”
A little flush across her cheekbones. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“So it wasn’t planned,” he murmured, feeling his body all but purr. “That means you can’t resist the enemy either.”
“I’ll get over it.” A snapped statement. “Now go.”
He let her scramble off his lap ... only because he knew that one second longer and he’d have followed through on his threat of ripping off her clothes, feasting on the exquisite nakedness of her skin. But he couldn’t resist taking her lips. It was a short, wild contact filled with anger on both sides. But there was something beneath the anger, a savage kind of need that shocked the hell out of him and left her staring in confusion.
PETROKOV FAMILY ARCHIVES
Letter dated October 1, 1977
Dearest Matthew,
Emily was sick today. She’s got an ear infection, the little darling. It breaks my heart to see tears in her eyes—though of course those didn’t last long, not once I got her to an M-Psy, but it was far too long for a mother to bear. You didn’t like it either. You were trying to give her your toys so she’d feel better. And you know what? For you, she hiccupped and played for a little while.
As I watched the two of you sitting there, you looking after her, I realized something. I’ve been so focused on how Silence would affect us that I haven’t given a thought to the future, to the unborn. If Silence succeeds, then there will come a time when children are born who’ll never be kissed by their mothers, mothers who’ll never hold their precious babes and breathe in that sweet, sweet scent as a tiny hand lies over their heart.
It seems such a simple choice, but...
Greg called tonight. He rarely does anymore, so your father tried to keep the conversation away from politics. They always fight when it strays in that direction. But while your father was out getting something for Greg, I made that point to your uncle—about the lack of love between
mother and child.
Do you know what he said?
That so many women are falling prey to violence, we’ve already got a generation that doesn’t know what it is to sleep in a mother’s arms.
The worst of it is, he’s right.
Mom
CHAPTER 29
To Katya’s surprise, DarkRiver agreed to allow her to see Jon. A dark-skinned man with intense green eyes drove the boy over. As Katya spoke to him by a tree in the yard, the tawny haired woman who’d accompanied Jon reached into the backseat and came out with an armful of giggling little girl.
Noor Hassan.
Her heart clenched to see such open joy on the child’s face. Wanting to touch the girl, make sure she really was alright, Katya nonetheless made herself fight her cowardice and look at Jon.
“You’ve grown taller,” she said, wondering why she was surprised. Teenage boys rarely stayed the same from month to month. “Your hair, you cut it.”
He shrugged, sending the short strands of brilliant white-gold shifting in the sunlight.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Tally asked.” There was something in his tone that told Katya he’d do anything for the woman who’d asked. “Plus, you never hurt me.”
“Didn’t I?” She sat down beside him when he took a seat on the ground, long legs stretched out in front of him. “I didn’t stop it either, though, did I?”
He gave her a narrow-eyed glance out of those brilliant blue eyes that had made him so easy to identify. Not many people looked like Jonquil Alexi Duchslaya. “What’re you talking about?” he now asked.
“I want to apologize.” It was time to face her crimes. “When Larsen hurt you, I didn’t stop him.” She made no excuses, because there were none.
“I heard your memory was messed up. Is it all back now?”
“Most of it.” There were still pieces missing, things, if she was being honest, her mind probably didn’t want to remember. She was at peace with that. Because Ekaterina, the woman who’d been a Psy scientist and later a victim, was gone. Katya had risen from the ashes, and she would make her own memories, her own future.
Jon gave her a funny look. “And you don’t remember that? He backhanded you fucking hard.” He winced. “Don’t tell Tally I swore, okay?”
Her entire body went taut. “Who backhanded me?”
“Lizard Man, Larsen, whatever.” Despite the careless words, he drew up his legs, putting his arms around his knees. But his eyes held concern, not fear. “He was doing stuff to me, and you said he’d gone far enough, that he was breaking the agreed-upon protocols.”
Her mind remained a blank on the incident. “Are you certain? He had drugs in your system.”
“Yeah, I’m certain. Not something I’ll ever forget, drugs or not.” He shook his head. “You tried to move his hand off my forehead and wham, that was when he backhanded you so hard, you ended up unconscious on the floor.”
Still no memory, but a bubble of hope. “How did he justify the hit?” Violence was supposed to have been wiped out by Silence, and Larsen had been pretending to be the perfect Psy.
“Dunno. You were out, so it wasn’t like you could call him on it.” He stared critically at her face. “I’m pretty sure I heard something crack. I thought he’d broken your nose or your jaw.”
A pulse of pain in her nose, a phantom memory. Hazy. Indistinct. But coming into focus. “Yes,” she whispered, raising her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “He said he’d had to do it to keep me from compromising the experiment... he did the medical work on it himself.”
“So don’t beat yourself up about it,” Jon said. “You were stuck, same as me. You did what you could.”
“That’s very wise for someone your age.”
He smiled and it was devastating, all charm and youth and a slight cockiness. “Shh. Everyone else thinks I’m hell on wheels.”
At that instant, Noor got away from the woman who’d been playing with her and ran pell-mell toward them. “Jonny!”
Rising in a fluid movement, Jon grabbed her up and swung her around to the accompaniment of her delighted laughter. Katya looked at the child in wonder. Larsen, she remembered as she got to her feet, had never touched Noor, Jon having taken her place, but the little girl had known terror. Today, she wrapped her arms around Jon’s neck and stared at Katya.
Lines formed on her brow. “Who’re you?”
“Noor,” Jon said, “that’s not nice.”
Noor wrinkled up her nose. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Why do you care?” Jon teased. “You’re going to marry Keenan.”
Noor leaned close, her next words a loud whisper. “But you like Rina.”
Jon went bright red under his golden skin. “This is Katya. She’s our friend.” His eyes met Katya’s as he said that last word, and there was only acceptance in them. “She helped us once.”
After another moment, Noor gave a small nod and stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Katya took it with gentle care, very aware of the delicacy of the little girl’s skin, her bones. “Nice to meet you, too. So, tell me about Rina.”
Noor’s smile was as bright as her name.
Five hours later, as the house quieted down after dinner, Katya crushed the part of her that remembered only Dev’s tenderness as he took her into his arms, and instead picked up the gauntlet he’d thrown down that first night. She should have done it yesterday, but Dev had been so busy, the lines of strain around his mouth so deep, she’d hesitated to interrupt him. It would be so easy to keep doing that—find excuses to put it off—but she would never be allowed any freedom until Dev saw the truth of who she was. And she needed that freedom to escape.
The drive to go north was a clawing need in her throat by now, a hunger she had to physically fight to keep herself from taking irrational risks.
Narrowing her telepathic senses to a fine, fine point, she sent a thought to Dev. He couldn’t hear the words, but he’d feel the attempt.
We need to talk.
She snapped back into her mind before Tag could pick up on it.
A curt knock sounded on her door an instant later. “Come in.”
“What was that?” Walking in, Dev closed the door behind himself and leaned back on it, arms folded. Instead of the suit she’d become used to seeing in New York, he was dressed once more in those jeans that made him even more dangerously attractive and a plain white T-shirt.
Itching to touch him, she nonetheless remained on the other side of the room. “A way to get your attention.”
“You got it.”
“It’s time.” She walked to stand at the foot of the bed. “You need to go into my mind.”
A single brutal word. “I told you, that’s not happening.”
“Why?” She stepped closer. “Because it’ll make you feel like a monster?”
He jerked as if he’d been shot. “Yes.”
“Tough,” she said, refusing to buckle under the urge to just give in, to let him have his way. If she did, they’d never move beyond this point. And every time she looked into his eyes, no matter how much he wanted her, she would see distrust. It hurt. So much more than she could have ever imagined. “If I can bear it, you can do it.”
He closed the space between them to glare down at her. “But here’s the thing, Katya. You can’t force me to invade your mind.”
She fisted her hands, squeezing so tight her bones ground together in pain. “If I drop my shields and you don’t come in, allowing me to close them around your entry point, my mind will be wide open to anyone with psychic ability.”
“You think that matters to me?” So hard, so angry.
“Yes, it matters,” she forced out through a throat raw with emotion. “Because you’ve taken responsibility for me. You might have to kill me, but until then, you’ll protect me.”
“Nice and manipulative of you.”
It took everything she had to keep her tone level. “A woman’s got to do wha
t a woman’s got to do.”
“Even if it destroys the other party?” A soft question that cut through her defenses with razor sharpness.
Bleeding, she looked up. “Will it truly be that bad for you?”
A harsh bark of laughter. “Haven’t you been able to access the files you have on me?”
“I don’t have those memories.” She held his gaze, suddenly dead certain that if she forced him to do this, it would kill the last fragments of that indefinable “something” between them. There would be no coming back from it. It wouldn’t have mattered to a true Psy, to a person who saw everything as part of a cost-benefit ratio.
But it mattered to her, mattered beyond bearing.
“Okay,” she said, dropping her head even as the pragmatic side of her screamed in rebellion. “Okay.”
Dev felt Katya’s acquiescence like a blow. “Why?”
“Because sometimes the price is too high.”
He caught her hand when she would have turned away, tugging her to his chest and taking her mouth in a furious kind of possession before she could do more than gasp. She’d backed away because it would hurt him.
It shattered him—he had always been the protector, the one who looked after others. Never had he expected that the enemy would try to protect his heart.
Echoes of sensation, too-soft whispers in his head.
He bit at her lower lip. “Shh. Tag will hear.”
Her lips curved into a startled “Oh.”
Taking advantage, he swept into her mouth, stroking his tongue against hers, drawing the intoxicating taste of her into his lungs. The whispers ceased, and he was unaccountably annoyed. “I’ll have to learn,” he said, kissing his way across her jaw, “how to shield your projecting from other telepaths.” Because that was an intimacy he’d allow no one to invade.
Katya’s hand clenched in his hair as he nipped at the slender line of her throat, only just restraining the savage need to bite hard enough to mark. “That assumes,” she said, her voice breathy, “you’ll have a lot of chances to practice.”
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