Tangle of Need p-11

by Nalini Singh

  Wolf not happy with its mistake about the scent, but willing to let it go, he continued to walk beside his lieutenant—a man who, as a result of his incredible feats during the battle in San Francisco, now had a fan club. Complete with “I ♥ Judd” and “Judd Is My Boyfriend” memorabilia.

  In the normal course of events, civilians wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near the former Arrow, but it had been impossible to evacuate the entire city prior to the Pure Psy attack. His name, at least, should have remained under wraps, but a number of intrepid journalists had risked life and limb to cover the battle—and one of them had overheard the other fighters calling out to Judd, revealed it in the ensuing article. “Did Brenna show you the website?”

  “Yes.” A dark mutter.

  Hawke’s wolf huffed in laughter, thinking of the secret stash of “I ♥ Judd” T-shirts and buttons Drew had purchased for everyone to wear at the next lieutenant meeting. “I’m thinking of making you my new PR person.”

  “I’d hate to turn my niece into a widow so soon,” was the cool answer.

  “I hear women are posting their phone numbers on the site for you.” Accompanied by sexy videos and photos.

  Judd’s eyes gleamed. “Not after Brenna hacked the site and plastered a message on their homepage pointing out that I’m very happily mated to a wolf with sharp teeth, razored claws, and a wild case of insane jealousy.” A small smile that was nonetheless, quietly satisfied. “She also uploaded several gruesome photos of feral wolf kills.”

  Hawke grinned in pride—he’d expected nothing less. “That’s my girl.” Catching another scent, he halted. “Damn it, that was Matthias.”

  Judd watched him without blinking, the perfect expressionless Arrow. “Did you get enough sleep?”

  “Funny.” Growling low in his throat, he picked up his speed. “Jem. Kenji. Cooper—” And suddenly, he was in a clearing filled with his lieutenants, male and female, from the youngest to the most experienced, from every sector across SnowDancer’s massive territory.

  A “whoop” went up at his entrance, and then he was being hugged, and slapped on the back, and even kissed. “I’d have hit that beautiful mouth,” a grinning Jem said, touching the cheek to which she’d pressed her lips, “but I hear your mate is a possessive woman.”

  He was not in the mood to laugh. “What the hell are you all doing here?” Never had his men and women so blatantly disobeyed his orders.

  “Relax, boss,” Tomás said with his usual irreverence. “We came down using our best sneaking skills to duck under the radar—no one’s going to miss us for one night. Every one of us has people we trust holding the fort and”—he held up a sat phone—“we’re in constant contact with our sectors.”

  “With,” Riaz added, holding up his own sat phone, “Judd, Riley, Indigo, and me acting as double backups in case of an emergency.”

  Hawke glanced at Riley. “I assume WindHaven is flying patrols over the territory?” His lieutenants were too smart not to use every resource available to them.

  “I told you he’d figure it out.” Alexei smiled that “supermodel” smile of his—as once described by Tomás … right before Alexei gave him a black eye. “We had to be here. You can yell at us and kick us out, but we’ll just shrug and turn right back around.”

  Kenji, his hair dyed a deep purple and sprayed with tiny gold stars, nodded. “We’re like termites—you can’t get rid of us.”

  He was alpha, his word law. He also knew when he was beaten.

  Wrapping an arm around Jem’s petite form, he squeezed her to his side, his wolf nuzzling at her own in welcome. To have the loyalty of men and women of such strength and heart was a gift—even if it meant he had to face the occasional challenge to his authority. And this particular challenge … it showed a depth of love any alpha would be hard-pressed to repudiate. “I guess we’d better find somewhere for you lot to sleep.”

  Cooper snorted, the smooth mahogany of his skin bisected by a jagged scar on the left-hand side of his face. “Who plans to sleep?”

  “Not me.” Tomás’s grin was infectious. “I intend to dance till dawn, hopefully with the sexy little wolf I spied earlier, then sneak home before anyone knows I was even gone.”

  “I think the single women are wise to you, mi amigo,” Matthias drawled with a grin, one arm around Indigo where she leaned against his muscular bulk. “But don’t worry. I’m sure the grandmothers will appreciate the company.”

  Turning toward the big lieutenant, Tomás shook his head, his expression mock solicitous. “I’d be careful if I were you—Drew might deck you again if he hears you’ve been touching his Indy here. Didn’t he whip your sorry ass the last time?”

  Indigo patted Matthias’s arm. “They’ve made up.”

  “Was there kissing?” Tomás asked, clapping his hands to his chest. “I can’t believe you didn’t invite—”

  Having strolled over, Jem grabbed his face between her hands and laid one on him. “There you go, Tommy.”

  It was the first time Hawke had seen Tomás speechless. Everyone else cracked up.

  Hawke’s wolf bared its teeth in a happy grin—it had been years since alpha and lieutenants had all been in one place at one time, and damn but it felt good. He knew it would be good for the pack as well, a quiet declaration that SnowDancer wasn’t scared or cowed by its enemies into running and hiding.

  They were wolf. And they were strong.

  Chapter 16

  COUNCILOR KALEB KRYCHEK dropped out of the PsyNet and back into his physical body where he stood on the edge of the balcony of his home on the outskirts of Moscow. That balcony had no railing, and the gorge below, swathed in the dark veil of night on this side of the world, was sheer, signaling death for anything that couldn’t fly … or teleport.

  His lashes came down, swept back up.

  His ability to teleport to individuals meant nothing, not in this particular situation. For some reason, he could not teleport to the one person he’d spent years learning to know, to understand. Opening his psychic eye again, he considered the pathways he’d already traversed. He was getting closer, that much was inarguable. The only question was whether he’d be fast enough to—

  Councilor.

  Shifting his focus at the telepathic hail, he slipped back into his mind and out again onto the PsyNet, this time devoid of the shields that made him invisible. “Silver.”

  His aide’s mind was crystal clear, with none of the hairline cracks that signaled broken or compromised conditioning. “Sir,” she said. “My family did not lose its contact inside Pure Psy in the fight against the changelings, and his most recent communiqué makes it clear the group is stirring again.”

  “I assumed as much.” Pure Psy had been heavily damaged but not destroyed by the cold violence of Sienna Lauren’s X-fire combined with a fierce fighting force of changelings, humans, and Psy.

  An unusual mix.

  Kaleb had watched from a distance, weighing up what the group effort meant for the future not simply of his own race but of the world.

  “Their new goal?” he asked.

  “Unidentified. Information is being communicated to a select number of individuals on a need-to-know basis. The only fact our contact was able to confirm is that they’ve shifted their attention from the changelings to the Net.”

  Kaleb considered the radical change. After the decisive defeat Pure Psy had suffered, it made sense for the group to rethink its objectives, but it had to be more than that. Fanatics did not think in a logical fashion, and Pure Psy was a construction of absolute fanaticism, no matter what its adherents told themselves about the “Purity” of their Silence.

  More than likely, the Pure Psy membership had decided that anyone who had not supported the group’s attack on the changelings was to be treated as the enemy, including those of their own race. “Thank you, Silver.”

  “Sir.” Her roaming presence streaked away, a shooting star.

  Kaleb stared out at the gorge on the physical plane
, but on the psychic, he was reaching for the DarkMind. What do you hear? What do you see?

  The broken, twisted neosentience, created of all the emotions the Psy refused to acknowledge, much less feel, twined around him, a pet seeking affection. Except it was no pet but a nightmare, and Kaleb didn’t understand the concept of affection. Still, he could mimic it enough to calm the DarkMind.

  The neosentience showed him minds disrupted, areas of the Net disturbed, but Kaleb had seen that for himself, monitored Subject 8-91 on a continuous basis. Pure Psy, he said, narrowing the search parameters.

  The DarkMind had nothing new to show him on the topic.

  So, Silver was righter than she knew—Pure Psy was keeping all information about its new plans under a mental and psychic lockdown. That meant its members had to be limiting their communications to telepathy or in-person meetings. Slow … but an excellent safeguard to ensure no one would uncover their objective until it was too late.

  Chapter 17

  SIENNA LOOKED IN the mirror, startled by the woman who looked back at her.

  Everything else new she’d purchased over the past couple of years, she’d acquired on shopping expeditions with friends. But not the dress she wore today. Hauntingly aware that this night when she made a public claim on her wolf, was claimed in turn, would resonate in her soul for the rest of her life, she’d needed it to be a private thing.

  She’d picked the design on her own, sourced the emerald green fabric, cut out the pattern using the template, then asked Tarah to sew it for her. The result was breathtaking. Made of a silky material that caressed rather than clung, it had straps that crossed her upper chest before curving around her neck in a halter, and a graceful, flowing skirt that kissed her ankles. Supremely elegant—but for the hidden slit on one side that hit mid-thigh, and appeared only if she moved a certain way.

  It made her feel young and sexy, beautiful and graceful, at the same time.

  For her feet, she’d chosen not respectable heels, but the very unrespectable thigh-high boots she’d worn the night Hawke had carried her out of Wild. That was the night they’d danced their first dance, a dance she would never forget.

  Her hair she’d left down, because her wolf preferred it that way.

  That wolf now growled. “Come here so I can take a bite.”

  Her thighs clenched. “Behave.” He looked gorgeous in a formal black shirt and pants, his hair and eyes thrown into startling relief, but she had another outfit in mind. “I bought you a present.”

  A slow wolfish smile. “I have one for you, too.” Closing the small distance between them, he made her hold out her hand, palm open.

  “Oh,” she said in delight, “which one did you get?” The intricate toys he’d given her during their courtship were some of her most cherished keepsakes.

  When he put the old-fashioned mechanical toy on her palm, she stopped breathing. It was a tiny representation of an atom, complete with colored ball bearings standing in for neutrons, protons, and on the outside, arranged on arcs of fine wire, electrons. Turning the key on the side made the electrons move, what she’d thought were ball bearings actually finely crafted spheres of glass that sparked with color.

  A brilliant, thoughtful, wonderful gift for a physics major.

  Eyes burning, she swallowed. “It’s perfect.” It still shook her at times, how he remembered things that mattered to her—even when she didn’t think he was paying attention. The other day, a book had appeared on her reader that she’d only mentioned wanting in passing.

  He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, as if he understood exactly what his care meant to her … then she realized he did. The mating bond connected them on a level that was as primal as the heart of the wolf.

  “Why magnesium?” she asked, identifying the atomic number of the light metal.

  His hand on her jaw, his mouth on her own. “Because it’s beautifully explosive, just like my X.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I like the way you pet me, too.” The way he made her feel as if her cold fire was a gift, not a curse.

  Placing his gift on the vanity when the clockwork mechanism wound down, she reached for the box she’d laid on the seat in front of it. “This is for you.” Nerves knotted her stomach. “If you don’t like it, it’s okay,” she said as he pulled off the ribbon with male impatience and opened the lid to reveal the contents.

  Silence.

  “I can send it back, reorder another—” His kiss stole her breath, stole her words, would’ve stolen her heart if it hadn’t already belonged to him.

  Touching her fingers to her passion-swollen lips, her breasts straining against the bodice of her dress, she watched him put the box back on the seat and strip off his shirt, exposing the beautiful chest she’d licked and sucked in the shower not long ago—her mate could be patient now that “the edge was off,” though patience was a relative thing.

  She’d ended up pinned to the wet tile, her legs wrapped around lean hips. Petting her with lazy possessiveness, he’d stroked into her slow and deep until she came in a rain of pleasure. Yet her body pulsed for him all over again, the sensory memory of rubbing against his chest sensitizing her nipples to aching points.

  Hawke’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t stop what he was doing.

  Dropping his shirt onto the bed, he lifted out and shrugged into the one she’d spent hours upon hours searching for online. When he raised his hands to the buttons, she stepped into his space. “I’ll do that.” She couldn’t resist kissing each hard, muscled inch before she covered it up.

  “Sienna.”

  A shiver rippled over her skin at the sound of that deep growly voice. “We can’t be late to our own ceremony.”

  Tugging back her head, he nipped at her lower lip, his eyes wolf blue. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

  “Or maybe I’ll put it on yours,” she said, giving him a little bite with her “claws.”

  “I promise to pay up.” His free hand, proprietary and warm, on the curve of her hip. “With interest.”

  Slotting in the final button, she resisted the urge to undo her work and stepped back to watch him tuck the shirt into his pants and do up his belt. There was something intensely erotic about seeing her man getting dressed, and Sienna had the feeling that would never change. Not with Hawke.

  “So?” he said afterward.

  She straightened the collar. “Take it off, you’re too handsome.”

  “No, it’s already my favorite shirt.” Hawke remembered seeing Lucas in a T-shirt that exactly matched his eyes not long ago, and feeling the hard stab of envy at knowing the leopard alpha’s mate had purchased it for him. He’d thought the wild beauty of such a bond forever out of his reach.

  Now, he was being petted by a woman who had somehow managed to find a shirt that matched the unusual shade of his own eyes, the ice blue threads so fine, it felt like wearing a kiss against his skin. Sienna’s kiss. “What are you buying me for my birthday?” Both parts of him admired his reflection, his hair almost glittering against the foil of the blue.

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you,” was the arch response.

  Delighted with her, he stole another kiss before tangling his fingers with her own. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” The slightest hitch to her breath. “I know these events follow their own rhythm, but do you have any idea of what we should expect?”

  “Good chance the lieutenants are going to kick it off with a speech.” Hawke glanced down, glimpsed the black leather-synth of her boot through the slit, and remembered that hushed night when he’d first allowed himself to hold her, though it had been torture to do only that and nothing more. “Then we’ll dance and celebrate.” Normally, Hawke would be the one who spoke first at any mating or bonding ceremony, letting the new couple know their pairing was accepted and welcome. The impact of that moment was luminous, an inexplicable but powerful something passing between an alpha and his people.

  “Dance all night with me?” Sienna asked
as they left the den for the walk to the Pack Circle.

  He enjoyed the feel of the wind flicking her dress against his legs, the supple warmth of her a familiar caress under the hand he’d placed on her lower back. “I know Tomás is planning to steal a dance, and Drew’s claimed one already.”

  “You’re rescinding the no-touching rule for tonight?” It was a laughing tease.

  “Since there are no baby cats around, yes.” His wolf snarled at the reminder of her friendship with Kit. “But, on that note—” Not giving her any warning, he bit her on the bared skin of her right shoulder.

  “Hawke!” She thrust a hand into his hair, found that instead of pushing him away, she was holding him to her while he licked over the mark with a molten sensuality that made her toes curl.

  “There,” he murmured, slits of ice blue visible between lowered lids. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.” Another proprietary lick.

  Pulse thudding against her skin, she laughed. “As if people were in any doubt.”

  Satisfied—and very alpha—smile on his face, he placed his hand on her lower back again and they continued down the path. “I’ll allow the pack to monopolize you until midnight”—a low murmur that was a rough stroke over her skin—“then I’ll dance with you until the stars fade and the sun rises.”

  Heart shattering at the beauty of her mate’s promise, she entered the Pack Circle with him.

  The cheer that split the air was deafening. Grinning, Hawke led her to where his lieutenants waited in front of a crowd that included every member of the den’s population, except for the few on security rotation.

  Matthias raised his arms to get the pack to quiet down, but gave up the floor to Riley once he had the crowd’s attention. Hawke’s most senior lieutenant stepped forward and, cupping Sienna’s face in his hands, said a single simple word, “Welcome.”

  The howl that went up in the clearing was multiharmonic and piercingly joyful, a song that was a gift. Linked as he was to Sienna, Hawke felt her stunned wonder and knew she didn’t realize the significance of the act.