Tangle of Need p-11

by Nalini Singh

  TO: Tammy

  DATE: Sep 3, 2081 at 3.15 p.m.

  SUBJECT: re: Life

  I just tried to call, but your phone went to voice mail. I think you must be at the boys’ hockey practice. (Lord, how adorable do they look in those miniature uniforms?! I don’t know how you bear it.)

  I’m okay, really. Walker and the kids keep me grounded, and Walker’s so protective, he literally carries me out of the infirmary if I’m being stubborn about resting. I’m not joking—he threw me over his shoulder the other night! Said I’d already gotten my warning.

  I have to admit I might have snarled (okay, yes, I did), but I figure that’s healthy when my rational Psy mate suddenly turns into a caveman. And here I thought I’d have it easier than all of you mated to dominant changelings. Shows what I know.

  Lara

  p.s. The snarling didn’t last long. I have no willpower when he goes all strong, silent, and possessive. Just call me Woman of Goo.

  FROM: Tammy

  TO: Lara

  DATE: Sep 3, 2081 at 3.27 p.m.

  SUBJECT: re: re: Life

  You are so crazy for your Psy, I can see the silly smile on your face right now. :-)

  Nate mentioned to me the other day how he and Walker agree completely when it comes to “taking care of” their healers, even if we’re “totally unreasonable” about it, and—when I got over the urge to smack him—I decided to kiss him instead. We lucked out, babe.

  Apparently they’re bonding. Nate dropped by the practice to see the boys, and I’ve been informed we’re all having dinner tomorrow night. I’m not sure if we should be scared about this development, but I can’t wait to see you so we can talk properly.

  Here’s hoping Patient A responds to Sascha’s attempt.

  Tammy

  p.s. Attaching photos of my gorgeous little troublemakers from their game this weekend. Jules only got sent to the penalty box once, and Rome actually stayed in the game rather than coming off in solidarity. I’m happy to say that tightly knit as they are, they’re also turning into fierce little independent men.

 

  Chapter 24

  HAWKE LOOKED AT the document BlackSea had sent through a few minutes ago and tapped Riaz for a consult, since the lieutenant had had multiple face-to-face contacts with members of the unusual “pack” while he’d been in Europe. He caught Riaz on his way down from the higher elevations, had to wait forty-five minutes for him to arrive.

  “Had lunch?” he asked when the other man walked into his office. It was half past three, but he hadn’t had a chance to eat.

  Riaz sprawled into the chair in front of Hawke’s desk. “No, but I won’t fade away.”

  “I might.” Putting through a call to the main kitchen, he asked one of the kids on after-school kitchen duty to bring over two plates. “Pasta okay with you?”

  At Riaz’s nod, he added in a request for dessert and grinned at the pert response of the head cook, Aisha, when the juvenile on the phone conveyed the request. Hanging up, he handed Riaz a copy of the BlackSea docs. “What do you think about this?”

  Unlike most changeling groups, BlackSea wasn’t composed of one particular species of changeling, but was a conglomerate of all water-based changelings. Several worked on Alaris, the deep-sea station located in the Pacific Ocean, not far from the Mariana Trench, though the station personnel were by no means solely changeling.

  A large number of BlackSea’s people had normal occupations—in cities located by the sea or near large bodies of fresh water, depending on their individual species. There weren’t, however, any water-based changelings in the greater Bay Area, or along the California coastline. Given SnowDancer and DarkRiver’s heavy dominance in the region, BlackSea’s people had given it a wide berth, not wanting to inadvertently cause a territorial skirmish.

  Now they wanted not only permission to move freely in the waters in and around the territory, as well as leave to work in the region, but also an alliance with SnowDancer. However, their vision of the alliance process was very different from Hawke’s. Hence the consult. “Wait,” he said when Riaz began to speak. “Let me comm Kenji in since he’s the point person with BlackSea.”

  Toby knocked on the open door right then, using his foot, his hands occupied by a loaded tray. A tug of pride in his gut at the sight of the boy who was now family, Hawke waved him in. “I hear you volunteered to do extra shifts in the kitchen.” According to Sienna, her baby brother was turning into an excellent cook.

  Toby nodded, dark red hair sliding over his forehead as he placed heaping plates of chicken and mushroom fettuccine on Hawke’s desk, followed by a large bowl of salad, big hunks of warm garlic bread, two bottles of water, and two enormous slices of baked cheesecake. Last was the cutlery.

  Beaming at having completed the entire operation without spilling anything, Toby leaned the tray carefully against the wall. “Aisha said to call if you need more.”

  “Thanks, Toby. Give Aisha a kiss from us.” Hawke winked.

  Toby left the office with a grin, closing the door behind himself at Hawke’s nod.

  “I think she’s trying to fatten us up.” Riaz groaned as he dug into the fettuccine.

  “Sorry, too busy dying of gastronomic bliss to talk.”

  There wasn’t even a crumb left when they finished. Deeply satisfied, Hawke brought Kenji into their discussion via the big comm screen on the wall to the right of his desk.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” Kenji asked, putting down a half-eaten burger, the mysterious bruise on his cheek from the night of the mating ceremony no longer in evidence, though his hair remained a sleek purple sans the gold stars.

  Riaz held up the document in silent explanation.

  Kenji grimaced. “Yeah, what’s that about? I didn’t say anything to their negotiator, but it’s not exactly how we do things.”

  Face-to-face, changeling-to-changeling, that was how SnowDancer began a relationship that had the potential to turn into an alliance.

  “BlackSea isn’t usual in any way, shape, or form,” Riaz said, stretching out his legs in front of him after changing position so he could look directly at the screen. “Because they’re scattered worldwide, they’ve had to develop other ways to connect. It doesn’t help that the majority of their membership is secretive and reticent to the extreme.”

  Hawke rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, no one’s ever confirmed if some of the changeling species that are officially part of BlackSea even exist.” Water-based changelings didn’t advertise their species, and many chose to live on the small floating cities in international waters that had been permitted them under the accord signed after the Territorial Wars.

  The cities were open to anyone—if you could find transport to the location: BlackSea had uniformly chosen dangerous stretches of water to anchor its cities, waters a fish alone would be able to navigate. And since they made sure there were no appropriate surfaces on which to land flying craft, the only visitors to their cities were invited ones.

  Even the Psy left BlackSea alone, most probably because the water changelings did everything they could to stay out of the spotlight. Which brought up another question, but Hawke shelved it for now, because Kenji was speaking.

  “So, what,” he said, gulping down his soda, “they function like the Psy?”

  “In a sense,” Riaz said, furrows between his eyebrows. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking they’re not ferociously loyal to one another just like in any changeling pack, but everything’s recorded and verified so it can be shared with members across the world.”

  Kenji tapped a laser pen against his cheek. “Honestly, I love the idea of being allied with BlackSea. Their information network alone is invaluable. The question is, can SnowDancer adapt enough to work with a group that functions so differently?”

  It was an astute question.

  Shoving the pen behind his ear, Kenji continued. “We can’t tr
eat them as we do our Psy business contacts, because as Riaz says, they are changelings and it would piss them off. But, it doesn’t look like we can have the kind of relationship with BlackSea that we do with DarkRiver and are building with WindHaven.”

  Hawke nodded. He trusted the alphas of the leopard and falcon packs on a gut level. Neither Lucas nor Adam would ever knife him in the back, of that both parts of him were dead certain. “According to the official line,” he said, “they don’t have an alpha, but a ‘Conclave’ that represents all the major and minor species groups in BlackSea.”

  Riaz shook his head. “That’s a load of PR bull. Her name is Miane Levèque and she knows everything that happens in BlackSea.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Miane was someone Hawke had kept a quiet eye on, as he did the alphas of most major packs. “Whatever else happens, a face-to-face meeting is nonnegotiable.” His wolf would accept nothing less.

  Riaz tapped the rolled-up papers against his knee. “My advice: we treat this request seriously, go over the contract, and ask for changes as needed. I think they’re feeling us out, seeing if we are able—or at least willing to try—to adapt to their unique way of doing things.”

  “Could be a power play,” Kenji pointed out. “The minnow trying to get the whale to do as it wishes.”

  Hawke grinned. “Excellent marine analogy, rock star.”

  Kenji played some excellent air guitar. “I’ve been saving it up.”

  “It’s definitely a little of that, too,” Riaz said, clearly in no doubt about BlackSea’s predatory instincts. “So we make sure they realize that while we’ll work with them, we won’t budge on the critical meet between Miane and Hawke.”

  “And,” Hawke added, “guaranteed transport in and out of their cities.” Movement had to go both ways for an alliance to work. “If they plan to stonewall us there, the deal is off the table. And warn them if it happens after we agree to an alliance, we’ll consider it a fatal violation and a declaration of aggression.” SnowDancer had plenty of teeth, and he didn’t want BlackSea in any doubt that they would use those teeth the instant the other group tried to manipulate the situation.

  Riaz’s eyes glinted in agreement, his wolf prowling close to the surface. “We also need to stipulate a permanent comm link. No dodging our calls and blaming it on nautical interference—before or after. Make sure they know SnowDancer doesn’t give second chances.”

  “That’s a very good point,” Kenji said, swallowing a bite of what looked like cherry pie. “I hear BlackSea’s great at delaying things until it’s too late.”

  “I’ll follow your lead—between you, you have more experience with BlackSea than anyone else in the pack.” Hawke was very aware that he either respected the strength and skills of his men and women, or he lost them to boredom and frustration. “The two of you have full authority to negotiate. Just keep me in the loop.”

  “There’s one other thing.” Riaz’s expression was thoughtful. “Aren’t you guys wondering why they’re sticking their necks out now?”

  It was the question Hawke had earlier shelved. “Yeah, when they’ve seen the consequences of allying with us in stark detail.” As an ally, BlackSea would be expected to provide support in any future conflicts.

  “Last few times I met a changeling from BlackSea,” Riaz said, “I had the feeling something was up. Like this subtle tension under the surface.”

  “I’m getting the same feeling.” Kenji took another bite of pie, chasing it down with more soda. “They’re in some kind of trouble, and whatever it is, it’s making us look attractive.”

  Both his lieutenants glanced at Hawke, an unasked question in their eyes.

  “We continue the process.” The advantages of having BlackSea as an ally were vast. “No point bringing it up now.” The aquatic changelings didn’t trust SnowDancer enough to tell them the truth. “Once the other pieces are in place, that’s when we pin them down—if they refuse to cooperate, it ends there.” He wouldn’t ally his people with a group that might lead them into unknown harm.

  “You know, everything else aside, they’re bloody fascinating.” Riaz’s tone held intense interest. “A changeling group even other changelings don’t get.”

  “Creepy as hell at times, too,” Kenji muttered. “Those black eyes some of them have—it’s like looking into the face of a mako shark.”

  “You might be,” Riaz replied with a grin. “And damn, Kenji, do you live on a diet of junk food?”

  “My sushi’s in my other bento box.” Unrepentant, he bit into a piece of cake.

  Hawke listened to the two men discuss a couple of preliminary matters before Kenji signed off and Riaz stood. He remained concerned about the lieutenant, but as he’d told Riaz, he knew lone wolves. He’d give the other man a little more time. The one positive in the situation was that Riaz had come home, and he’d stayed.

  “I’ll have a look at the contract tonight,” the other male now said, glancing at his watch. “I’m due to call Pierce in a few minutes—he said he’d be up late.”

  Pierce was the lone wolf who had taken over Riaz’s duties in Europe. “Tell him to keep his nose clean or I’m putting him on rotation to Siberia.” Unlike Riaz, Pierce was a flirt—his face had been introduced to more than one jealous male fist.

  “Then we’d have WhiteSteppe to deal with,” Riaz said with a grin, naming the sole wolf pack in Siberia. “They’d probably declare war on us after he seduced away some lieutenant’s girlfriend.”

  Laughing as the other man left, Hawke nodded at the teenager who’d just come to the doorway. “Here to grab the dishes, Silvia?”

  A shy smile. “Yes.” She quickly gathered them up, no sign remaining of the injuries she’d suffered in a severe fall.

  “How are your sessions with Ava going?” he asked, knowing the maternal female had taken Silvia under her wing.

  “Everything she teaches me,” the teenager said, “it fits. Like I already kind of knew it. I wanted to ask if I could maybe have more time with her?”

  Shyness or not, there was strength there, Hawke thought, warm and strong. “Mention it to Nell,” he said. “She’ll work something out.”

  As Silvia left with another small smile, Hawke recalled the note Nell had sent him this morning. Picking it up from his desk, he considered how to deal with that particular situation. He should make Riley handle it—it was his damn fault for putting ideas in the juveniles’ hormone-drenched heads. The thought cheered him up for a second, but he knew this was a task for an alpha, so he sucked it up and made the call. “You at the cabin?”

  “Yes,” Lucas answered. “Bring some of Aisha’s chocolate pie for Sascha if you’re heading this way. As far as my chocoholic is concerned, it’s ambrosia.”

  “Anything for Sascha darling.”

  “That doesn’t work now that you’re mated.”

  “Damn.” Hawke hung up, then called Aisha to arrange the pie—the cook adored how Sascha craved her baking, so it was a mutual love affair. Poking his head into Riley’s office after picking it up, he told the lieutenant where he’d be if needed. “Do you know where Sienna is?” He could sense her through the mating bond, track her if need be, but he’d made a promise to himself that he would only ever do that in an emergency. Never did he want his mate to resent the bond between them, to see it as a leash or a cage.

  Riley brought up the roster. “She’s got study time, so I’m guessing the library.”

  “Thanks.” Even with a couple of interruptions by packmates wanting to talk, it didn’t take long for Hawke to walk over to the den library, where he found his mate with her head downbent over a piece of paper on which she was writing formulas that made his brain ache. Physics and math texts lay open on several large datapads around her, and the small computer she’d signed out was running what appeared to be a complex equation.

  Putting his hands on either side of her desk from behind her, he nuzzled a kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear, the autumn and spice of her c
alming and invigorating his wolf at the same time. “Ms. Sienna Lauren Snow,” he teased, “what’re you doing working on something as archaic as paper?”

  Chapter 25

  A HINT OF color on her cheekbones. “It helps me think.”

  Chuckling, he made a mental note to buy her a ream he’d seen at the little stationery store next to the shop that made the mechanical toys he collected—if he recalled right, the paper was specially formatted for the type of calculations she was doing. “How much do you have left to do today?” He knew she was working on an extra-credit project to gain early entry into an advanced course on thermodynamics—the behavior of energy.

  Sienna wasn’t certain the information would help her understand the cold fire that lived within her, but it couldn’t do any harm. Knowledge, he thought, gave her a control that had so often been stolen from her life.

  “A couple of hours,” she now said, tipping up her head, her hair catching on his shirt, “but I can do that tonight. I could do with a break.”

  He tapped her nose with his finger. “Come on then. I’m going to see Lucas—you can visit with Sascha.”

  “Oh, great! I haven’t cuddled Naya since several days before the mating ceremony.” She quickly stacked the datapads neatly in her cubicle, then gathered up and put her computer and notes away in the attached locker. “I’m ready.”

  They were halfway to the garage when Toby ran up to them, a small backpack slung over one lanky shoulder. “Are you going out? Can I come?” he asked, pushing back hair that wasn’t anywhere close to the cardinal night-sky of his eyes. Habit, Hawke thought, wolf grinning at the memory of the haircut he’d given the boy.

  Sienna reached out to straighten his collar. “You complete your kitchen chores?”

  “He did,” Hawke answered to Toby’s grin. “Brought me some food not long ago.”

  “I even finished my homework,” the boy added, and got the permission he’d requested to join them. Smiling, he fell in beside them. “We got out of school early today, and we don’t have to start till after ten tomorrow because we have a night class.” Toby all but vibrated with excitement. “Elias and Sam are going to teach us how to track in the dark. It’s going to be real late, when everything’s quiet.”