Tangle of Need p-11

by Nalini Singh

  “Yesterday, he disappeared with my boots and came back with them resoled because he’d noticed they were damaged.” When she’d thanked him, he’d run his knuckles down her cheek and said it was his job to care for her. “I found a shawl in my quarters the other day, soft as air, and the precise color of my eyes.” Golden threads woven into the exquisite blue.

  “And he’s always feeding me,” she said, bewildered by the unexpected tenderness. “Cupcakes and homemade pizza and my favorite spaghetti.” Then there was the most wonderful thing of all—the wooden sculptures she kept finding in her pockets. Her favorite was a tiny dragon, its expression fierce, its claws out.

  “Protectiveness is part of the package,” Indigo said. “You know that. I’m more dominant than Drew, but he still finds ways to take care of me.” She took the sad bear out, smiled, and kissed its face before tucking it safely back into her pocket.

  “I know. I just never expected Riaz to be like that with me.” She didn’t have to explain why, didn’t want to speak of the unknown woman who was Riaz’s mate.

  Twisting, Indigo looked up at her. “I get why you’re hesitant. I guess the question is, do you think you’d be happier without him?”

  “I can’t bear to think of being without him.” The hurt was bone deep … and that was her answer.

  Coming down to sit beside Indigo, she said, “It’s no use trying to keep a physical distance between us, is there? When I already belong to him here.” She rubbed a fisted hand over her heart, knowing that regardless of how much it terrified her to trust her love to a man whose own would never belong to her, keeping it stifled did an injustice both to herself and to the lone wolf who had made her feel so cherished. “I have to have the courage to love him without conditions.”

  Chapter 52

  VASQUEZ WENT OVER the most recent report cataloguing the acts of attempted sabotage on SnowDancer land. The incidents had dropped off markedly in the past two weeks, and none had caused the wolves any problems, but planning and carrying them out was keeping the majority of Pure Psy’s remaining forces occupied.

  Good, he thought, sending a telepathic message to the ringleader to continue. So long as they were occupied in the pointless task, he could set up the warning “outlier” strike without having to concern himself with anyone getting too curious. No leaks could be permitted. Not now.

  Not when the time had finally come.

  “There is one problem,” he said to Henry when they met that night. “Though I have a unit ready to move on the secondary targets, I still have only one operative I trust with the primary task.” Making back-to-back strikes impossible, though—and not counting the outlier—he had five complete sets of confirmed locations. “However, I do not recommend waiting. The Net is becoming further infected with those whose conditioning has fractured.”

  “You have permission to move as soon as you see an open window,” Henry replied, his broken voice short of breath. “We will succeed, Vasquez.”

  “Yes, sir. We will.” No one and nothing had the power to stop them. Not this time.

  Chapter 53

  TWO DAYS AFTER Adria moved in with him, Riaz was a happy wolf. He loved having her in his space, loved that her scent was everywhere—and that his was all over every perfect inch of her. And he was definitely smug about the fact that though their request for quarters in the couples section hadn’t yet gone through, she hadn’t made any noises about his room being too small for the both of them.

  Wiping the smile off his face since it totally destroyed his hard-ass rep, he put through a call to Bowen, needing to talk through some final details about SnowDancer’s permanent liaison arrangement with the Alliance. The security chief asked him to organize clearance for the liaison to fly to San Francisco for a sit-down discussion within the next few days. “I think I have the perfect candidate, but I want to discuss her with Lily. She’s taken over Human Resources, knows our people inside out.”

  “Hold on.” Switching lines, Riaz made a quick call to his counterpart in DarkRiver—Nathan—and got the clearance, the city very much leopard territory. Back on the line with Bo, he said, “You’ve got permission,” then set out the conditions—basically dealing with how much freedom of movement the liaison would be permitted. “You coming along?”

  “I’ll try. Depends on the security situation.”

  “Any further aggression from Tatiana?”

  “Nothing obvious. Covert surveillance is likely.” A beep in the background. “That’s my cell phone. I better get it—link up with you later in the week to confirm flight details.”

  Hanging up, Riaz swung by Indigo’s office to discuss a personnel matter. The other lieutenant gave him a considering look across her desk after they were done. “Adria told me about the rose petals.”

  He knew when a wolf was fishing. “Did she?”

  “Damn it. She mentioned rose petals and then she blushed. Adria never blushes.”

  Sprawled in her visitor chair, he just smiled. “So, you and Drew are heading to take over Alexei’s sector in a month.”

  “Only caretaking,” Indigo clarified. “You know how good he is. Needs a bit more seasoning is all. I’m taking most of my novices and younger soldiers along,” she added. “Good for them to learn to work with dominants from other sectors. The ones I’m leaving here are those with an aptitude for weapons—Alexei’s going to do sessions with them while he’s here.”

  Knowing Alexei’s strength in that area, Riaz knew the novices had lucked out. “He had any more problems with challenges?”

  “No, but there has been an interesting development as of last night—the wolves in the pack that kept challenging him?” At Riaz’s nod, she continued. “Turns out they’re in a bad way. Their alpha passed two months ago from old age, and while the lieutenants were able to keep it quiet and hold the pack together, they’re all comparatively young and weak.”

  In a situation where a pack had no successor to their alpha, Riaz thought, a strong lieutenant who had the backing of his fellow dominants could ensure the pack’s continued health. But it needed to be someone of Riley’s caliber—a man every wolf in the pack could respect and whose strength was unquestioned.

  Without that, the natural aggression of the dominants would spill over, disintegrating the pack from the inside out. “Is that why all the challenges?” he said, seeing the weaker pack’s plan—a clever one, if only they’d had someone who could take Alexei. “They wanted one of their people in a position of power in SnowDancer?”

  Indigo nodded. “They’re desperate to merge with us, but it’s a tough ask for them to bring in their people under someone they don’t know and trust. Especially given our reputation.”

  A reputation that, Riaz knew, had been carefully cultivated in the years after Hawke took over as alpha. No one else, that young boy had declared, would ever see SnowDancer as easy prey. Each and every dominant in the den had backed that reputation up with teeth and claws and blood, until even the most aggressive packs steered clear of SnowDancer territory. “Alexei’s show got their attention,” he guessed.

  “Yeah—and since pretty much every dominant in their pack was there when he returned their man, they had a chance to judge him for themselves. They’ve made a formal request to be permitted to move in under SnowDancer’s banner, bringing their territorial lands with them.”

  “This pack know what that means?” SnowDancer expected total and absolute loyalty, had executed one of their own not long ago when he proved a murderous traitor.

  “They will—and if it goes through, our region swap might have to wait a bit while our new packmates get settled in under Alexei.” Indigo glanced at her watch. “It’s time for you to leave for the meet. Make sure the octopus doesn’t get you.”

  “Funny,” he muttered, but part of him was intrigued by the idea of changeling octopuses. Or should that be “octopi”? BlackSea was so secretive, it was impossible to separate wild conjecture from fact.

  Hawke and Riley met him in t
he garage. The three of them—and Kenji—had debated dressing in suits, but had settled on their usual jeans and T-shirts. This was who they were, and if BlackSea didn’t like it, there wasn’t much hope for a functional alliance.

  “Who’s going to drive?” Riaz asked, reaching the vehicle.

  They all looked at one another … then stuck out their fists for a game of rock, paper, scissors. Riley won, with Riaz losing and ending up in the backseat. In a good mood, he wasn’t fussed, his mind filled with thoughts of the woman who had brought him back to life, branded her claim on his heart. His tough, prickly, generous Adria, who wasn’t so tough or prickly after all.

  Last night, he’d had her in giggling fits after finding a ticklish spot and taking merciless advantage. He’d felt as young as a pup as they twisted and tangled in the sheets, her giggles erupting between stern admonitions and breathless threats. Wolf grinning at the memory, he talked to the back of Riley’s head. “How’s Mercy doing?”

  The senior sentinel caressed the steering wheel through a turn, sliding the vehicle gracefully onto the highway beyond den territory. “She hasn’t snarled at me yet.” Pure disbelief in every syllable. “I turn up out of the blue while she’s working, and she smiles, gives me a kiss, and lets me hang around as long as I want.”

  Hawke turned to look at Riley, suspicion writ large on his profile. “We’re talking about Mercy the sentinel? The one who’d kick your ass if you dared baby her?”

  “Maybe it’s the pregnancy?” Riley sounded hopeful.

  Riaz winced. “Pregnancy usually makes dominant females meaner, not nicer.” It tended to take very careful petting to calm one down once she got her fur ruffled. “Are you sure she’s happy to see you?”

  Riley gave him a look in the rearview mirror.

  “Right,” Riaz muttered. “Mating bond.” The scar inside him stretched, the wound throbbing, but it didn’t bleed. Because the thing was, he knew when his empress was happy, too, his wolf attuned to her own.

  Hawke rubbed his jaw. “I’d say enjoy it while it lasts,” was his thoughtful advice. “Sooner or later, she’ll turn into a she-demon.”

  Riley’s growl filled the vehicle. “Don’t insult my mate or I’ll have to stop this SUV and beat you dead.”

  Hawke’s hair caught the light coming through the open sunroof as he shook his head, the strands gleaming white-gold. “I can take you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “After the meeting, you and me. Riaz will referee.”

  Well aware the two men were the best of friends and often took each other on in combat, Riaz interlocked his fingers behind his head and looked up at the clear blue sky visible through the sunroof. “Dolphin changelings—what do you think?”

  Riley was the one who replied. “That one, I could give credence to. Any number of humans and nonwater-based changelings—even Psy in some cases—report being saved from drowning by dolphins. The survivors always mention how intelligent the creatures seemed.”

  “That,” Hawke said, “assumes humans, changelings, and Psy are the only intelligent species on the planet. Pretty arrogant of us.”

  “Jellyfish,” Riaz said, after considering the other inhabitants of the sea. “Seriously, there cannot be jellyfish changelings.”

  Hawke turned to look over his shoulder. “What the hell have you been smoking?”

  Riaz shrugged, his mood undampened. “It was green and leafy.” He made a note to discuss the subject of possible sea changelings with Adria—intrigued as she was by puzzles, she’d find it as fascinating as he did. “There’s Kenji.” His flight delayed, the lieutenant had asked them to swing by the airport and pick him up.

  Jumping in sans luggage, Kenji and his magenta hair took a seat beside Riaz. “A teenage girl screamed and asked for my autograph—thought I was part of some boy band from Japan.”

  “I told you so,” Hawke said. “Did you give your fan an autograph?”

  Kenji grinned. “It would’ve been such a shame to disappoint her.”

  The rest of the drive was taken up with a quick discussion about the upcoming meeting, which Hawke would lead, the rest of them providing backup and security as needed.

  Riaz tapped Riley’s shoulder when they hit the Embarcadero, pointing left. “That building.” Squat and wide, it fronted the pier, the shimmer of the Bay visible in the small gap between the warehouse and the fence.

  Parking, they got out to find Nathan waiting for them. The senior DarkRiver sentinel took them through the empty space Riaz had already checked out with him earlier in the week. Nate went over all the exits and entrances once again, as well as anything that could be a possible blind spot in a fight. Because of its shape, the warehouse didn’t really possess any shadowy corners, part of the reason Riaz had chosen it.

  “We’ve disabled the surveillance equipment as you asked,” Nate said to Riaz, “but one of the techs is standing by if you want anything functional.”

  Hawke shook his head, crossing the cavernous space to slide open the wide door that led out onto the pier. “No, we’ll lose their trust if they figure out they’re being monitored.”

  “In that case, the place is all yours. Call me once you’re done and I’ll send someone to lock it up. Good luck.” The DarkRiver sentinel left with those words.

  Riaz and Kenji followed Riley and Hawke out onto the pier. Seagulls cawed overhead, the scent of brine and fish pungent in Riaz’s nostrils, the wind rifling through his hair. Taking a deep breath, he scoped the area one more time. While it allowed easy access to and from the Bay, once on the pier, their guests would be blocked from the view of the other warehouses by the high fences on both sides.

  Given BlackSea’s preference to stay under the radar, he and Nate had even rigged up a temporary boathouse, ensuring Miane’s group could go straight from their boat to the pier. Nate had suggested BlackSea might simply swim in, but Riaz didn’t think they’d be anything but besuited, polished professionals.

  He was proven right.

  “Here they come.” The sleek craft cut through the water with the grace of a dancer, its engine near silent. Unsurprising—BlackSea’s shipbuilding arm was considered to be peerless, its craftsmen and craftswomen artists.

  The vessel slipped into the temporary boathouse and docked. And then Miane Levèque was stepping onto the pier with two unfamiliar men and Emani. Dressed in a neat skirt suit of deep green, Miane was a woman of medium height with translucent hazel eyes uptilted a fraction at the corners and stick-straight hair of ebony, the black too soft to be called jet.

  That hair was cut into a blunt fringe above her eyes, throwing them into sharp relief. Her skin was a shade that placed her ancestry in Northern Africa or the Middle East, or possibly part of South America. Riaz didn’t have to guess—he’d done his research, knew she’d been born in the port of Cairo to an Algerian mother and an Egyptian father.

  “Hawke.” She held out a hand that bore scars from more than a few nicks and cuts, though her nails were manicured and polished a glossy shade Riaz thought might be called oyster.

  Hawke shook it, holding her cool, almost cold gaze. Riley introduced himself a second later, giving Miane a reason to look away. It was an almost ritualistic dance when two alphas met for the first time. Left to their own devices, they’d stare until one of them either backed down or drew first blood.

  Riaz remained in the background with Kenji, his attention on the men who’d come with the BlackSea alpha, both clearly there for her protection, regardless of any status they held in the Conclave. That wasn’t an insult—he and the other lieutenants were here for Hawke’s protection. None of them would drop their guard at any time, in case this was a giant double-cross and BlackSea was aiming for the assassination of the most powerful alpha in the country.

  “Please,” Miane said, taking a small step back, her feet encased in black leather-synth heels that made a clipping sound on the plascrete, “join me on my vessel. The stateroom is more than adequate for this meeting.”

&
nbsp; A gracious offer meant to put them off their game, their wolves having a strong dislike for the motion of the sea. They could bear it, but it would fray tempers, reduce concentration.

  “Thanks, but I’ll decline.” Hawke bared his teeth in a smile that was a silent warning. “If you prefer not to enter the warehouse, we can talk here.”

  Miane considered it, one of her men whispering in her ear at a sub-vocal level. “Malachai says it will be easier to spy on us outdoors, use audio equipment to pick up our voices. The most secure place would be out at sea.”

  Hawke just waited. He’d made his intentions clear, and now it was up to Miane to accept or walk away. After a tense pause and another muted discussion with the hard-eyed male named Malachai, the leader of the BlackSea Conclave inclined her head, and Riaz knew she’d decided to trust them this much at least. “Let’s proceed inside.”

  Riaz left the doors open behind them. Intercepting a glance from Emani, he said, “We can use audio disrupters to make certain the conversation remains private,” and produced the small, round devices from a flat case in the back pocket of his jeans.

  Emani checked the disrupters with a handheld scanner and nodded. Together, they set out and activated four of them, one in each corner of the warehouse. No one spoke until they’d returned to stand behind their respective alphas.

  “We,” Miane said, “have been pleased with SnowDancer’s willingness to work with us on an agreement.”

  Hawke watched her without blinking. “Let’s cut to the chase—the only remaining questions are whether we can work together on the ground, and the real reason why you’re suddenly so keen on an alliance.”

  A slight widening of her eyes was the sole indication of Miane’s surprise. “Blunt.”

  “We worked with you on the contract because it made sense with your people being so spread out,” Hawke said, “but that’s not who we are, and that’s not how we function. Better you know that now than be surprised by it later.”