by Nalini Singh
Kaleb's psychic imprint caught her eye.
Silver, he'd telepathed, Selenka's team informs me that cleanup at the site will be complete in thirty-six hours. Autopsies are in progress, and Enforcement forensic teams are working double shifts to process as much material as they can. They have recovered parts of the individual believed to be the bomber--a human local to the area. DNA verified.
The date and time stamp showed the telepathic message had been routed to her about two hours earlier. He hadn't sent her any further updates. Neither had her grandmother or Arwen.
Deciding to follow up after she was fed and at full strength, Silver glanced at her phone as she exited the room. Valentin's name jumped out. The message was untitled.
He'd never before e-mailed her. She tapped his message open:
You're right! This e-mail invention is amazing. You can even send photos!
He'd included a photo of two bear cubs in bear form, tidily eating ice cream from cones held carefully between their paws. Below the image were the words:
It's really good ice cream.
Closing--but not deleting--the message that continued their long-running ice cream conversation, she realized she'd reached the Cavern.
The den was quiet this early in the morning, and she hadn't run into anyone else. But now she found herself on the receiving end of a brilliant smile from Devi, the young woman fresh-faced and with her hair in a ponytail. She was dressed in black running shorts and a blue athletic tee with white stripes on the sides, her feet bare.
"You must be hungry," Devi said. "Come on, I'll show you to the kitchen. Did you have a good rest?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Here you go." Devi pointed out a wide internal entrance. "Sorry to show and take off, but I'm meeting a friend for a run." A pause, her smile fading. "Thank you for letting me help at the site. I needed to help."
"You were an asset." The young woman hadn't stopped until Silver did. "I hope you rested as well."
"Oh, sure, but I'm a bear. We're tough." She left with a smile and a wave.
Silver watched her go before walking into the huge communal kitchen to which Devi had led her. It was nearly empty, holding just a few people preparing what appeared to be items for breakfast. The youngest looked to be about six years old. Wearing pajamas of pale blue fleece, his hair sticking up in light brown tufts, he was sitting on a counter carefully peeling mandarin oranges and putting them into a bowl.
"Ms. Mercant."
Turning at the sound of that deep male voice, Silver found herself facing a tall, square-jawed male with skin of ebony. If Valentin was all rough edges and crags, this man could've walked out of a modeling catalog or from the files of those families who aimed for not only psychic power in their bloodline, but also physical beauty.
"Please take a seat here, and I'll bring you something to eat." Unlike all the other bears she'd met to date, he didn't smile at her.
Chapter 19
Food is to a bear what a hug is to a human.
--Author unknown
"THANK YOU." SILVER took a seat on one of the stools at the counter nearest the door. Bowls of fruit, snack bars, and a clear jar of cookies sat on one end.
The model-beautiful man brought her a tall glass filled with a familiar liquid. "I was able to source a jar of nutrient drink for you."
Having not expected that courtesy after his cool greeting, Silver said, "Thank you. I appreciate it." Nutrient drinks were the fastest way to beat psychic fatigue.
"Not a problem." Still no smile, his face all smooth skin and flawless symmetry, his shaved head only serving to bring the perfect lines of his face into sharper focus. "I'll bring you a plate of solid food, too."
From his curt manner, Silver came to the conclusion that this changeling was unhappy about her presence in Denhome. Then he brought her the plate of food; it held high-energy items, all of which she knew were naturally light on flavor.
As if correctly reading her response, though she'd made no betraying movements or sounds, the man--who she guessed to be the cook--said, "I did a little research. Recipes are creeping online now, with Psy starting to step out of their comfort zone."
"You took extra time out of your day. I appreciate that."
The faintest thawing of his features, his light brown eyes wrinkling at the corners. "You're welcome."
After he moved back to supervise the other workers in the kitchen--who were shooting Silver curious looks but, oddly for bears, keeping their distance--Silver watched him without appearing to watch him.
He was calm and competent and clearly respected. Pair those traits with his symmetrical good looks and, if anyone should've provoked a reaction in Silver, it was this man. Yet she couldn't stop herself from keeping an eye--and ear--open for Valentin's booming laugh, his overwhelming, uncivilized presence.
"Hey, if you have a thing for Chaos, you'd better tell Mishka now."
Silver glanced at Nova as the healer took a seat beside her at the counter. The other woman was wearing a scoop-necked and wide-skirted dress in leaf green with small white flowers dotted randomly over the fabric. It had three-quarter-length sleeves that exposed the tattoo on her forearm, which Silver had already noted. Two letters, one big, one small, circled by a pattern of hearts and stars. Neither initial was Nova's.
"What," she said, focusing on the most pertinent matter, "is a 'thing'?"
"Aw, come on, Seelichka." Nova reached up to fix the jaunty ponytail she'd tied with a white ribbon. "You know exactly what I mean, so don't pull that 'I am a Psy robot' stuff with me."
Silver returned to her meal, considered her answer in between keeping an eye on her steady stream of phone and telepathic messages. "I'm Silent, Nova. I choose to be Silent."
"You sure?"
"Quite sure."
"Hmm . . . Then why were you checking out Chaos?"
"I wanted to see if he wasn't smiling at me because he doesn't like Psy, or if he simply doesn't smile at anyone."
"Weirdly, that makes sense." Nova sighed and, propping her elbows on the counter, cupped her chin in her hands and turned huge dark eyes in the direction of the cook. "That hunk of a man does smile, but he doles it out like it's a rare spice, and he's only got a limited supply."
Chaos, who'd been walking toward them, shot Nova a scowling look. "Eat this." He thrust a plate across the counter with that terse command in English. "And stop telling lies about me."
Blowing him a kiss, Nova beamed at the small, perfectly decorated cake Chaos had given her before answering in the same language he'd used. "Chocolate cake for breakfast? I love you, honey bunny."
Scowl deepening, the changeling male reached over and, gripping Nova's pointed chin, kissed the healer on her lushly painted lips. When he drew back, she lifted the cloth napkin he'd brought over and wiped the hot pink color off his lips. "Good morning to you, too, moy dorogoi Alik," Nova said, alerting Silver that Chaos had a given name quite different from how he was usually addressed. "Now go be your sexy, tall, gorgeous, and silent self."
Chaos gave what Silver read as an exasperated sigh before he moved back toward his work crew--who did a very bad job of hiding their grins. "You all want a second kitchen shift?" he growled and got a wave of shaking heads, grins still wide. "Then back to your jobs."
"He's your mate?" Silver asked under the cover of industrious activity.
"Yes." Nova's smile was gleeful. "All mine since we were eighteen." Forking up a bite of cake, she made a humming sound in the back of her throat that had Chaos watching her with intense interest from the other side of the kitchen. Nova blew him another kiss. "My love always says he won me by winning my stomach."
"Did he?"
Nova gave a throaty laugh. "I knew that grouchy polar bear was mine the day I first saw him in Babushka Caroline's birth clan, when she took all us grandchildren along for a visit when I was sixteen." A dreamy smile. "But I had to play a little hard to get, didn't I? Give him a chance to court me."
Another bit
e of the cake. "Boy, does that man know how to court a woman."
"Do you have children?"
"The Barnacle is ours." Her eyes shimmered with maternal love. "Stasya looked after him last night, so he'll still be cuddled up in bear form with her--he likes sleeping over at his aunt's because, like aunts the world over, she spoils him silly," Nova said before raising her voice. "Talking of small bears, I see someone is still sneaking out of bed before dawn."
The little brown-haired boy giggled.
Smile wide, Nova nudged her plate toward Silver. "You want to go wild and try some?"
Shaking her head, Silver replied to an urgent message on her phone. "I apologize," she said to Nova afterward. "I'm receiving EmNet updates."
"Sure, I get it." Nova's expression turned serious. "I did a shift at the hospital while you were asleep--I'm officially on staff in case of emergencies where a bear is taken in, but I figured they could use all possible backup with so many badly wounded."
Silver met the other woman's eyes. "I haven't had a chance to read the report on the survivors."
"Thirteen made it past the first few hours." Nova put down her fork. "Eleven look like they might recover fully, but it's contingent on no infections or complications. The other two are hovering in that twilight that could go either way."
Chaos moved across the kitchen with a mug of coffee. After placing it in front of Nova, he ran his hand over her hair. Though the couple exchanged no words, Nova's sadness no longer seemed as heavy a black cloud when her mate returned to his work.
"I don't understand people who carry out these crimes," she said. "I mean, what does it achieve?"
"Logic isn't what drives them." Silver had seen evidence of that truth over and over again. "The Pure Psy fanatics who attacked the SnowDancer pack in the Sierra Nevada mountains were convinced theirs was a righteous war that would make the world turn in the direction they wanted."
They'd believed the Psy race was stronger and more powerful under Silence, that any alternate existence was untenable. "It never occurs to them that others may not agree with their goals." Silver needed Silence, but that was her choice. No one had the right to dictate it.
Nova's lips parted before she looked over her shoulder without warning. Silver didn't need to turn to see what had caught the other woman's attention. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck had just reacted as if electrified, her heart slamming against her rib cage. Not in primal warning. In an awareness she'd been attempting to stamp out since the day Valentin Mikhailovich Nikolaev first entered her life.
"You look terrible, Mishka." Nova got up, slipping a scanner out of the--now expected--large pockets of her calf-length dress. "Sit, let me take your readings."
"I'm fine, just tired." Valentin grabbed the stool beside Silver's, sitting with his back to the counter, elbows braced on the granite and his big body humming with energy.
His scent washed over her, clean sweat and more, a layer that was distinctly earthy. Distinctly, roughly Valentin. Ignoring the telepathic and electronic messages pinging at her, none of them urgent, she took in the lines of strain on his face, the bruised shadows under his eyes. "You haven't been to sleep."
"I got four hours. We had a senior sentry go down with a broken leg, and another because of idiocy." Pure aggravation in every word. "I covered for them rather than put someone less experienced on the perimeter."
Silver knew she was a big part of the reason he'd made that decision. She'd changed the balance of his clan, needed to leave before she caused any damage. About to suggest she move out today--her physical state not at a hundred percent but far better than it had been yesterday--she was interrupted by the sound of running feet.
Pavel all but fell into the kitchen. "Did you see this?" he cried before the distinctive aqua green of his eyes landed on Silver.
He snapped his left hand behind his back with bear swiftness, the dark brown of his hair falling over his forehead. "Um, never mind."
"Spill it before I beat it out of you, Pasha." Valentin's voice was a growly rumble.
"Remember, you asked for it." Pavel placed the organizer between Valentin and Silver before retreating out of reach. "Don't shoot the messenger."
Valentin swiveled in his stool so he faced the counter and the organizer that lay on it. His shoulder brushed her shoulder, but Silver's attention was on the headline that took up the entire screen but for the square reserved for a full-color photograph: THE MOST SURPRISING PSY-CHANGELING ROMANCE YET!
A telepathic contact touched her mind at the same instant that the meaning of the headline actually penetrated. The contact was from one of the few people who had direct access to her, the telepathic pathway between them nearly twenty-nine years in the making. Silver? Should I take these reports of your romance with the StoneWater alpha seriously?
Of course not, Arwen.
Her brother withdrew, needing nothing other than her word. Silver, however, was still staring at the article. "Where is the romance in this image? We're both dusty and sweaty and standing at the incident command center speaking with Kaleb."
Nova leaned between them to look at the article. "Body language," she said in a definitive tone. "Turned toward each other, standing closer than Psy usually stand to other people, way closer than either one of you is standing to Krychek." She tapped her lower lip. "Also, Mishka's body is angled as if to protect you from anything that might come."
"Give us a minute." Valentin's tone was alpha in the truest sense.
Stepping away, Nova went around to cuddle the boy who was peeling mandarin oranges, while Pavel returned the way he'd come.
"You can't take this too seriously," Valentin said with unusual quietness. "Making up stories out of thin air is what tabloids do."
"It's not only in the tabloids." Silver had already scanned the PsyNet, found multiple other reports along the same lines--albeit less hyperbolic in tone. "Bring up the Moscow Daily."
Valentin hissed out a breath at first sight of the newspaper's home screen.
"Bl--" Glancing over at the little boy with Nova, he cut off the rough word she was sure he'd been about to utter. "I thought this was an actual news site."
"The EmNet director's connection to a powerful changeling alpha is considered news." The Moscow Daily article was nowhere near as melodramatic or as long as that in the tabloid, but it was more dangerous. "They did their research--it states that you've been spotted leaving my apartment building multiple times." Valentin had enough bear arrogance to have walked boldly past security on his way out, taunting them with the knowledge that he'd once again skirted their systems.
Valentin's body rumbled beside her, the bear in him apparent in the primal timbre of his voice when he spoke. "It says the information came from a woman named Monique."
"My neighbor--it's unlikely to have been malicious on her part. She talks about everything to everyone." Silver didn't quite understand how Monique Ling held such a high-powered position in the fashion world, but perhaps fashion people all talked without pause. "We were once trapped together in a malfunctioning elevator for ten minutes. At the end of it, I was aware of her entire life history."
*
VALENTIN couldn't read Silver, but he guessed she was coldly angry under her precise exterior. His Starlight did not like being at the forefront of the public's consciousness. She preferred to be in the background, tugging strings, gathering information, ensuring things moved in the direction she wanted.
Valentin wasn't exactly a happy bear, either. He knew the best way to lose their private battle was to, in any way, corner Silver. Like a wild falcon, she'd fight to the death to get free.
That was the whole reason why he'd launched plan "sneaky like a cat."
"Starlichka," he said gently, trying to fix this. "The interest will fade--the pictures aren't exciting enough." Though Nova had been eerily accurate about the body language--when the tabloid photo was taken, he'd been fighting the urge to wrap Silver's exhausted body in his arms and haul her off to h
is lair.
His Starlight was brilliant and she was tough, but she was still flesh and blood.
Silver's response to his rough attempt at reassurance wasn't what he expected. "From the comment thread on this article, it appears humans and changelings are responding well to the possibility of such an improbable romance."
"Unexpected." Valentin's bear scowled inside him. "Not improbable."
"With Silence having fallen," Silver said, rather than replying to his grumble, "I believe a percentage of Psy will also find it intriguing--there's certainly significant chatter in the PsyNet for what should be nothing but a fringe topic." She ate a bite of the food on her plate. "It could end up being a positive."
Valentin's bear roared to the surface at this hint that she might be open to being his, the animal's thick fur attempting to erupt out of his skin. "What if I asked you to have a real romance?" he said, abandoning sneakiness for a directness that fit far better.
Her response was quiet, potent. "I'm not like Sascha Duncan or Faith NightStar, or even Vasic Zen."
"No," he said, unable to look away from that crystalline gaze that made the bear inside him rise to the surface, his vision shifting to that of his animal. "You're Silver Fucking Mercant, a woman who makes her own rules."
"That woman chooses Silence." No hint of an expression on her face, her eyes searing, unreadable starlight. "I have access to all the data on the pros and cons of breaking Silence, and I've downloaded all available information about what it is to be in a relationship. I've also had a close view of a highly stable relationship."
Kaleb Krychek and his mate. "None of this changes your mind?"
"No." She continued to hold his gaze.
Not many people could do that, changeling or not. Yet Silver had never flinched, her dominance his equal. Thunder in his heart, man and bear both in her thrall.
"The one thing that is often forgotten in the discussion about Silence," she continued in that same quiet tone, "is that terrible as it was for the many, for a small minority, it worked exactly as intended. I am one of that minority."
Chapter 20
To be Silent is to be without emotion. This emotionless state allows for a statistically significant increase in psychic control while having the opposite effect on any tendency or inclination to be violent.