Tangle of Need p-11

by Nalini Singh

  Putting aside—for tonight at least—the solemn knowledge that what was coming would likely be far worse than what had already gone, Sienna glanced at Evie. “Come on, there’s food in the galley in our quarters.”

  “Tell me you have snacks,” Evie said after they’d entered. “We’ll be healthy and have vegetables later.”

  “I’m Psy. I don’t eat snacks.” It was something she’d once said to Evie, bewildered by the other woman’s overtures of friendship. Evie hadn’t backed off, her stubbornness sweet, gentle—and relentless.

  Now, the two of them laughed as she grabbed a bag of potato chips for Evie, as well as a toffee apple for herself. Her additions to the galley had made Hawke shake his head … then bring her a sugar-laden treat every Friday. Biting into the apple with a smile, she dropped into the sofa beside Evie and toed off her boots and socks, propping her feet on the coffee table.

  “That’ll rot your teeth,” Evie said, crunching on a potato chip, the lustrous ebony of her hair curling over the shoulders of her white cashmere cardigan.

  “Pot. Kettle. Black.”

  “God I love salt.” Another crunch. “Since I have no shame, I’m going to ask you what’s it like being mated.”

  “Wonderful.” Breathtaking enough that it scared her at times. “It’s the other things that shake me up now and then.”

  “Such as?”

  Sienna had to finagle toffee from her teeth before she could speak. “Such as knowing I’ve become part of the center of the pack when my natural inclination is to be on the periphery.” She was an X, a cardinal, had been trained to be a covert operative. “I feel so exposed sometimes.” As if everyone was watching her.

  Evie got up to grab them bottles of fruit juice. “That’s normal, Sin. Any woman who mates an alpha—forget about mating the alpha of the biggest changeling pack in the country—is going to stress a little at the sudden change in status and responsibility. If you didn’t, you’d be a robot.”

  Sienna knew that tone. “You think I need to cut myself some slack.”

  “I knew constant sex with Hawke hadn’t rotted your brains.”

  Sienna almost choked on the bite of apple in her mouth. Gulping the juice to wash it down, she pointed a finger at Evie. “I should be used to the things that come out of your mouth by now.”

  Evie smiled, beatific.

  Shaking her head, Sienna said, “Thanks for the advice.” Evie had a way of cutting right to the heart of a matter, and doing so with a kindness that was innate.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Type A Personality.” A gentle nudge followed by a glimpse of open vulnerability. “To be honest, I was a little worried our relationship would change with you being mated. It’s nice to know you still want to talk like we used to.”

  “I’ll always need to talk to you, Evie.” Friendship was a cherished gift to Sienna, the one she shared with Evie her first and deepest. “I was scared, too,” she confessed, “that maybe you wouldn’t feel comfortable with me anymore, would censor yourself.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

  A knot Sienna hadn’t even been aware of unraveled in her chest. “Talking of mating—you and Tai?”

  “There’s no bond,” Evie said, following Sienna to the galley as she hunted out the ingredients for a salad. “That’s not unusual at our age. But he’s mine.” She began to wash the lettuce. “I’m going to make him get an ‘I belong to Evie’ tattoo.”

  Sienna laughed. “Possessive much?”

  “Tai’s oblivious”—a satisfied smile—“but some of the older women have been giving him the eye since he filled out.” Evie’s own eyes shifted from gray to a vivid yellow-gold. “Just because I’m submissive doesn’t mean I won’t find creative and nasty ways to make them sorry if they dare come on to my man.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Of course you will. It’s in the best friend code.”

  Such an ordinary byplay, but one she couldn’t have imagined having five years ago. Her life had shifted on its axis more than once during that time, but she’d found her footing before and she’d do it again in this, most exciting new chapter in her life.

  A pulse along the mating bond, a “kiss” from her wolf, a reminder that no matter where the journey took her, she would never again be alone in the dark.

  RIAZ hadn’t warned his mother of his intention to visit, so when he walked into the house midmorning the next day, she not only dropped the plate of cookies she was holding … but burst into tears.

  Riaz would’ve been alarmed except that she was cupping his face in her soft hands and kissing his cheeks, speaking two thousand miles an hour in a rapid-fire mix of English and Spanish as she berated him for staying away so long.

  Dropping his overnight bag on the otherwise spotlessly clean floor, he enfolded her diminutive form in his arms, the softness she insisted on calling her “padding” and his father called “sexy as hell,” familiar and comforting.

  Her arms wrapped around him in return, strong as steel. Chin resting on her hair, he breathed in fragrant spring flowers, sugar, and warmth. It was the scent of kisses on skinned knees, hugs after school, proud touches when he made soldier, a million fragments of memory.

  “You’re staying,” she said, drawing back and lifting the edge of her apron to wipe away the remnants of her tears.

  He knew an order when he heard it. “Yes, ma’am.”

  That got him a pat on the cheek and a “Sit, I’ll bring you cookies.”

  He picked up the broom instead to sweep up the detritus from the broken plate and its contents, got a look of approval. Riaz hid a grin. He was well trained. “Where’s Dad?” His father, Jorge, had retired from his job as a teacher but still spent most days handling issues to do with the pups and juveniles in the San Diego area—it kept him content, and out of his wife’s hair.

  “We’re bringing a group of the young ones to the mating ceremony. Jorge is organizing the final details today.”

  Riaz knew Hawke would be delighted. “It’ll be good to see you there.”

  Taking off her apron after putting out a fresh plate of cookies for him, his mother said, “I have to go to the grocery store in a bit—do you want to track down your brother? I’m sure you can talk Gage into taking an early day.”

  Shaking his head, Riaz said, “I’ll drive you.”

  His mother laughed and dragged him down so she could ruffle his hair. “My precious boy. You’re going to make some woman very happy one day.”

  It took effort to keep the smile on his face, to not let his mother see what her words did to him. Wrapping an arm around her, he tucked her against his side and tempted her into a cookie, determined to enjoy his time in San Diego … but he couldn’t escape the jaw-clenching realization that all thoughts of Lisette were now linked to Adria and the desire that had scorched them both.

  ADRIA ran into Hawke on her way to a meeting that afternoon. When he mentioned that Riaz was in San Diego, shock turned her breathless. Not because Riaz had left the den for what appeared to be a short visit to his family, but because of her own response to the knowledge.

  A tremor of relief rippled over her skin, her spine no longer tight with a fine ever-present tension. She wasn’t so naive as to believe the attraction had run its course—nothing that gut-wrenchingly deep could be so easily conquered. Even now, embers of darkest need flickered in her blood. No, the only reason for her relief was because with him gone, there was no longer any chance she’d forget her vow to keep her distance from a man who had made it crystal clear he’d rather sleep on a bed of nails than with her.

  “How are you going with the territorial exploration?”

  Hawke’s question snapped her head back into the game—she knew her alpha had to be evaluating her performance as a transfer. “I’m doing a new section each day. I discuss it with Eli or Riley before and after to make sure I don’t miss anything.”

  The light caught on the distinctive silver-gold of Hawke’s hair as he cocked h
is head a fraction to the right—the wolf, listening to her. “Good,” he said, his easy expression doing nothing to tone down the sense of naked power that clung to him like a second skin. “Another thing, Adria”—a moment of searing eye contact—“if there are any issues I need to be aware of, you let me know.”

  “Of course.” Leaving the alpha, her senses prickling with the knowledge that Hawke saw far more than either part of her wanted him to see, she made her way to the weekly senior soldiers meeting. Elias, the man in charge of the group, ribbed her gently for being late, before calling the meeting to order from his leaning stance against a scarred wooden desk so sturdy it would take four men to shift.

  It was a perfect fit for a break room that was happily shabby with its worn-in furniture and massive notice board hung with party invites, take-out menus, printouts of the roster, and an eclectic collection of photos. Word was, the maternal females had been politely but implacably rebuffed when they’d made noises about refurbishing it to match the bright new community areas in the den.

  Adria was glad—this room had its own identity, its steady, comfortable look reflecting the pragmatic men and women who most often used it. Unlike the lieutenants, who had to deal not only with political issues but also with matters that crossed sectors, senior soldiers had charge of the day-to-day security and running of their particular sector of the territory. Riley took care of overall assignments, making certain the dominants in the den functioned as a smooth unit, but Elias was the one who handled issues specific to the senior soldiers. And it was his advice Riley asked when the lieutenant wanted to know how best to utilize those men and women.

  “Right,” Elias now said, “first thing we have to do is hash out assignments during the mating ceremony.”

  Adria knew everyone would want a chance to attend the celebration, but the pack’s territory couldn’t be left undefended. “One-hour rotating shifts?” she suggested from her seat on a sofa beside dark-eyed Simran. “We have enough people even without the lieutenants.” Indigo, Riaz, Judd, and Riley would need to remain at the Pack Circle.

  Kieran linked his hands behind his head and leaned back, balancing his chair precariously on two legs. “Works for me.” The smooth brown of his skin gleamed with health. “But anyone on the inner perimeter will have to do a two-hour block—have to allow travel time. Outer perimeter’s going to be a problem. It’s too far.”

  “Cats have agreed to cover it.” Elias shook his head. “Don’t know when we stopped trying to skin them for their pelts and started to trust them.”

  “Shame, I could’ve used a new rug,” some wit commented from the back.

  Adria grinned. Like the others, her own wolf was still getting used to an alliance that had gone beyond blood and to the heart. For a pack like SnowDancer to trust its borders to anyone, much less a leopard pack strong enough to be a threat, spoke of ties so deep, nothing would fracture them.

  The change hadn’t happened overnight. It had taken years … years while she’d been trapped in amber, driven by a painful hope that had died a slow, cruel death. But, she thought, never would she have to look back and wonder if she’d given up too soon. No, she’d tried. Until her heart broke.

  “Back to the shifts,” Eli said, deep brown hair the shade of burnt toffee sliding across his forehead. “Anyone who takes the inner perimeter only has to do a single shift for the night, so if you want one of those, let me know.”

  There were a few raised hands, mostly from those who wanted to have the early part of the evening off so they could attend the ceremony with their children. “And,” one of them pointed out, “it’s not like the party’s going to stop.”

  A round of laughter followed, deepening when Drew quipped something in his usual sly way. Adria had been surprised to see him at the first meeting she’d attended, his place in the hierarchy was so mutable, but she supposed he was technically closest to the senior soldiers. Of course, Riley’s brother and Indigo’s mate had a way of being welcome anywhere he went—she’d spotted him with the mechanics the other day.

  “Okay, now that that’s sorted,” Elias said, glancing once again at the board on which he’d scribbled his notes. “We need to talk about—”

  “Hey, Eli,” Kieran interrupted, gray-green eyes wicked with mischief. “Is that one of those scratch-and-write boards they use at elementary school?”

  “What?” Unfazed, Elias continued to write on the pink slate. “You just noticed?”

  Adria laughed, wondering if Sakura had given the board to her father. From beside her, Simran said, “I think it’s great.”

  “You’re a girl,” Kieran pointed out. “It’s pink. Manly men spit on pink.”

  Roundly booed by the females in the room, Kieran threw out his arms. “Hey, hey, I like girls.” Pure charm. “A lot.”

  “Quiet,” Elias said in his no-nonsense way, “or we’ll be here all day. Next thing we need to sort out are some new training modules. We now have a climber with Level 4 certification in the group, so she’ll be doing a lesson tomorrow for those of you who climb like bears after hibernation.”

  It took Adria a second—and Elias’s amused look—to realize she’d been volunteered.

  Chapter 13

  “WORKS FOR ME.” Climbing had always been a huge joy for her—to the point that Martin had once joked she must’ve been a cat in a former life. It was in fact the one thing they’d enjoyed doing together almost to the end. As if in facing the challenge of a mountain or a sheer cliff face, they’d become partners once more rather than adversaries. “I can handle the lesson on my own,” she said, gently closing the lid on memories that had no place in her new life, “but I hear Drew’s a good climber, too.”

  “Yes, he is. Which is why he’ll be running things with you.”

  Drew saluted her from across the room. She couldn’t help but smile—how could she do anything but love the man who adored the woman who was, in every way that mattered, her sister. “Level?” she asked Elias.

  “Beginner to intermediate. We can’t keep letting the cats show us up when it comes to climbing.”

  Several “Hell yeahs” sounded from around the room.

  Adria shook her head. “Don’t get any ideas about scrambling around in the trees like they do”—their bodies were just built differently—“but I can get you to a competent level if we do the lessons once a week for, say, two months.”

  “Done.” Elias glanced around. “You know if you need the course—stick your name down so I can make sure you’re not on shift at the time.”

  A lazy voice—Brody—drawled a question from the back. “I’d like to get in some advanced sniper training while things are quiet. Can you rope in Judd or Dorian?”

  Nodding, Elias made another note, then the group took care of a couple of other matters before breaking up. Drew walked over to discuss their joint task as the others ambled out. “You got time now to scout a location and talk about how we want to run the first session?”

  “Yes.” Walking out beside him, she grabbed an apple from the bowl by the door.

  Drew’d already taken a bite of his by the time she polished it on her shirt and bit in. The crunch was satisfying, the sweetness refreshing, the air outside the den a cool caress. As a partner, Drew was flexible and intelligent, and they had no problems mapping out a strategy for the lesson.

  That lesson, when it rolled around the next afternoon, went down like a house on fire. Surrounded by her peers, dirty and dusty and sweaty, she felt a sense of absolute rightness. This was home.

  Nothing and no one was going to push her out.

  SIENNA went to avoid Riordan’s kick, but knew she’d moved a fraction of an instant too late. She winced at the whack she was undoubtedly about to get to the ribs except … nothing happened. Blinking, she realized he’d pulled the kick. Nothing wrong with that—she did it herself all the time in training, because the aim wasn’t to beat your fellow combatants bloody, but to teach and test one another. The only problem was, Riordan sho
uld’ve still tapped her hard enough that she’d remember her error.

  Something hot and dark and infuriated boiled in her blood. “What was that?” she demanded, halting the session.

  “What?” He shoved a hand through his chocolate-dark curls.

  “That excuse for a kick.”

  “You stopped us to critique me?” He scowled. “You can do that after—let’s get back to it before I go gray.”

  Already stressed over the mating ceremony the following day, Sienna was not in the mood for male wolf bullshit. “How about I incinerate your hair so you don’t have to worry about that?” It just slipped out.

  She waited for fear to fill eyes that had always looked at her with friendly affection, stomach curdling at her error—she’d playfully threatened Hawke with singed eyebrows, but had been so careful not to remind the rest of the pack of what she was. But instead of fear, all she got was an “aw shucks” grin and a shrug. “I figured you wouldn’t want to be bruised for your big day tomorrow.” Charming eyes, big and brown and guileless.

  It almost made sense. Except now that she thought about it, she realized he’d done the same thing during their last training session—only he’d been a bit more cunning about it, grazing her so she knew she’d been “hit.” However, in spite of his boyish charm, Riordan was a dominant. The more she pushed him to admit what he’d been up to, the more intractable he’d get. “Okay,” she said with a smile she hoped didn’t betray her bloodthirsty mood. “Thanks. Ready?”

  He dropped back into the correct stance.

  Not giving any warning, she went at him full tilt—her foot connected hard with his ribs, her elbow with his jaw, her fist with his stomach. She did keep her blows away from his pretty face, since he had a date for the ceremony. However, when he blocked her moves but made no aggressive ones of his own, she narrowed her eyes and went to kick him upside the head, which, if it connected, would surely create a nice big black-and-blue bruise down one side of his face.

  “Fuck!” Slamming up a hand, he gripped her ankle the instant before she would’ve made contact with his skull and flung her away and to the ground, coming down on top of her an instant later, his much heavier body pinning hers facedown on the mat. “You trying to kill me?” It was a growl.