Mine to Possess p-4

by Nalini Singh

  Somehow, he knew. Taking off his cap, he put it on her head. “Suits you.”

  It was a gesture of affection, pure and simple. Her heart melted a tiny bit. “Thanks.”

  “And don’t worry about Clay—he needed to cut loose.” He grinned. “Man has a right to get drunk over a woman who matters. I’d have been more worried if he hadn’t started acting crazy.”

  The words were light, but she got the picture. It seemed she hadn’t been alone in putting her emotions in deep freeze. “If I wasn’t already taken,” she said, liking him for telling her what she needed to know, “I would kiss you.”

  “You’re welcome to.” He tapped his cheek. “Or how about one with tongue?”

  She’d just begun to frown when she felt Clay’s hand land on her hip. The growl that came from his throat vibrated into her bones. “Find your own damn woman.”

  Dorian shoved a hand through his hair, an unabashed grin on his face. “I kind of like yours, smart mouth and all.”

  “Clay, he said he’s an architect—is that true?” she teased, easy now that Clay was back, but also because Dorian had grown on her. She was under no illusion as to how dangerous he was—his charm was a cover for an incredible amount of anger, but it was also a part of him. When he wasn’t filled up with that deep-seated rage, she had a feeling he could charm the birds out of the trees.

  “That’s what it says on the degree on his wall.”

  Talin smirked, pretending amusement, though her stomach was a pit of nausea as she tried not to think about what Jon might be suffering at that very moment. “So, Boy Genius, what did you do—take an online course and get your degree in ninety days?”

  “Clay, can I bite her?”

  “No.” Clay scowled at her. “I’ll do it for you. We ready to go?”

  “Yeah. You organized the other end?”

  Clay nodded, reaching up to rub absently at his temple. “A guy I know will drop off a truck near the landing zone. It’ll look beat up but it’s been retrofitted for speed and defense.”

  “What about your snake friend? Any luck tracking her down?” Talin asked.

  “No, so let’s hope we don’t need her. You’re the easiest to disguise,” he said, “so you’ll drive into Cinnamon Springs, with—”

  Her phone beeped. “Sorry,” she said, scrambling to pull it out of her pocket. “Probably one of Rangi’s kids.” She flipped it open. “Hello.”

  Clay and Dorian were already turning to finish loading up the plane with what looked like surveillance gear.

  “Talin. It’s Dev.” The Shine director’s tone was edgy.

  Very aware of both men returning to her side, she slid her arm around Clay and spread her hand against the stiff line of his spine. “Dev?”

  “You with the cat?”

  “Yes.”

  “He can probably hear this conversation then.”

  She looked up. Clay and Dorian both nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good,” came the surprising response. “Someone’s been trying to contact you through your Shine e-mail account.”

  Her hand clenched on the phone. “And you know this because you’ve been spying on me?”

  “No.” His voice turned cutting, then he sighed, as if in frustration. “Because of the kidnappings, I recently put in place a secret macro program. It scans everything going through our servers, red-flags and sends me a copy of anything that sets off certain triggers.”

  Her outrage disappeared. “You were trying to catch the mole.”

  “Yeah.” Ice came through the lines. “I know it’s a breach of privacy, but I don’t give a shit. Shine is meant to be a safe place and I’ll make it safe again even if I have to rip open every fuc—”

  Suddenly, the phone was no longer in her hand. Startled, she found Clay had taken it. “Stop yelling at Talin,” he ordered.

  Scowling, she held out her hand. He returned the phone, but only after another comment. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” she asked him as he handed it back.

  “Nothing.”

  Muttering about chauvinist pigs, she put the phone to her ear. “Dev, I want to find these bastards, too. This e-mail—when did it come in?”

  “Four minutes ago. I could send it to your phone but I’d rather do it through a more secure channel. Any options?”

  “Wait.” Reaching into the plane, Dorian pulled out a sleek silver something from his knapsack before motioning for the phone. She handed it over and he said some technobabble on it before handing it back and flipping open the device, placing it on the floor of the plane.

  She put the phone to her ear. “Did you get that?”

  “Yes. Give me a second.”

  She nodded at the device Dorian was messing with. “Very tiny laptop?”

  He shot her a distracted grin. “You could say that. This sweet thing is our attempt at creating a Psy organizer. The versions they allow on the market are nothing compared to the goods they keep for themsel—Tell Dev I’ve got it.”

  Moving around Clay to stand between the two men, she bit off her impatience as Dorian opened up a miniature e-mail screen. Clay’s hand rested on her back, but then Dorian put one of his on her shoulder as he straightened and moved to let her take the central position.

  The contact startled her, but it was okay. Dorian was…Pack. Shaking her head at that odd thought, she focused on the message.

  Jonquil Duchslaya is alive, but he won’t remain that way if you don’t fight for him within the next twelve hours. I’m willing to help you with that task, but you must do something for me—something of equal value—in return. The risk-benefit ratio is too unbalanced otherwise.

  “That’s it?” she said, trembling.

  “Yes.” She jerked at Dev’s response, having forgotten she still held the phone to her ear. “Any way it could be legit?” Dev asked.

  She was too shaken up to answer.

  “Why use ‘fight for him’? It’s an odd choice.” Clay began doing that thing with her ponytail again and maybe it was that that calmed her down enough to think.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “When we had that bust-up, I told him I’d fight for him if he fought for himself.”

  “Give me that.” Dorian slipped the phone out of her lifeless fingers. “Did you trace the e-mail?” A pause. “You’re sure?”

  As she waited, Talin’s earlier anger grew into an inferno, but this time, it was directed not at a disease she couldn’t name, but at this faceless stranger. “Who is this person to demand something for Jon’s life? What right do they have?”

  Clay’s body grew very still. “The language—it’s Psy. A life reduced to a risk-benefit ratio.” He paused. “Judd’s contact must’ve come through, set things in motion. I owe him.”

  Glancing up at him, Talin noticed he was rubbing at his temple again. She was about to reach up with her own hand when Dorian spoke.

  “Fine,” he said, ending the call. “Dev got another hit—the possible mole this time—but he told me that he had someone trace the e-mail. It was easy, because whoever sent it didn’t know how to hide their tracks.”

  Talin didn’t dare breathe. “Nebraska?”

  “Not only that. They tracked it down all the way to Cinnamon Springs.”

  Her hand crushed the back of Clay’s shirt. “Jon’s in that lab.” It was a storm inside of her, this need to reclaim what was hers to protect. But no, she had to think. Her brain wasn’t fuzzy now—in fact, it was almost dizzying how clearly she could think. Strange, given that the disease had to be escalating. “We can’t just barge in. The lab is too huge.”

  Clay tugged at her ponytail, raising her face to him. “We bring in the pack and the wolves, we can do it.”

  Talin had never had that much strength behind her. Her mind filled with a split-second montage of the people she had met—Nico, Tamsyn, Nate, Lucas, Sascha, Faith, and Vaughn. That kind of backup, she realized, was both a privilege and a responsibility. “No.” It was a painful decision. “We’ll lose too
many people.”

  “Pack is One, Tally. We bleed for one another.”

  “I know.” She hugged him, strong enough now to accept the protective violence that was a part of him. “But it doesn’t matter. Twelve hours is too short a time frame to mount an organized attack. They might kill Jon before we ever got close enough.”

  “Or,” Dorian said, picking up and unrolling a printout of the lab schematics taken from Judd’s data crystal, “they could have a built-in self-destruct mechanism.” He tapped several spots on the plan. “The lab is designed to collapse if you apply pressure at specific points—all those spots are internal. I’d guess they have the whole place wired. Input a specific code and boom.”

  The coldness of such a plan shook Talin to the core. “They’d kill their own?”

  “Without a pause,” Clay and Dorian said in concert.

  People like that, she thought, wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a teenage boy if they didn’t get what they wanted. “Will they be able to track it back to us if I reply to this e-mail?” She copied the address, opened a new window.

  “No,” Dorian reassured her. “I’ve set it up to encrypt all outgoing messages.” He tapped in a quick code. “This will feed an encryption worm into their system, too.”

  Nodding, she typed in a single line:

  What do you want?

  Neither of the men said anything as she pushed Send.

  They waited in silence. Dorian shoved a hand through his hair and began stalking up and down the makeshift runway. Clay, though he remained unmoving, was a vibrating column of rage.

  She reached up to massage his temples with gentle strokes. “Maybe this person isn’t evil. He’s prepared to help Jon.”

  “Why now? Why not the other children?” His arms held her firm against him, though he bent his head so she didn’t have to stand on tiptoe. “Whatever it is he wants, we’ll give it to him. DarkRiver has more than enough funds.”

  “Thank you.”

  He growled at her. “Thank me again for taking care of my mate and I’ll have to get mean.”

  Mate.

  There was that word again, that incredible, impossible word. She knew it had been nothing more than a slip of the tongue on his part, but she hugged the mistake to her heart.

  A second later, something flashed in the corner of her eye and she twisted to look at the screen. Striding back to them, Dorian opened the e-mail.

  One day, I’m going need help to retrieve someone else. When I ask, will you answer?

  “Hell,” Clay muttered.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Not the mercenary demand we expected.” Reaching forward, she sent back a reply.

  Will you trust my word?

  The response was close to instantaneous.

  Humans have an odd thing called honor. Jonquil seems to believe in yours and he is an intelligent boy. I will hold you to your honor.

  There was something deeply poignant in those words. Whoever this Psy was, whatever he wanted, he wasn’t evil.

  “Say yes,” Clay told her. “I’ll answer the damn IOU.”

  She angled her body so he couldn’t see her next message until it was too late.

  How do I know your request won’t lead to more deaths?

  “Damn it, Tally!” Clay gripped her upper arms. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “Because you’re mine to protect, too,” she snapped. She wouldn’t barter Clay’s life for Jon’s. Losing Jon would break her, but, Lord help her, she couldn’t give up Clay. Not even if it meant betraying her deepest principles. Not even if it meant killing. The realization should have nauseated her. It didn’t. Truth never did. “I’m not having you sacrifice yourself again!”

  “God damn it.” He gripped her nape, spun her around to face him. Then he kissed her. Hard. “After this is over, I’m giving you a spanking.”

  She felt her face go bright red, though she knew he was simply blowing off steam. “Men,” she muttered, then glanced at Dorian. He was attempting to look uninterested but she saw the grin in those bright blue eyes. “Dorian, I swear to God, if you laugh, I’m going to peel your flesh from your bones.”

  He picked up her hand and kissed the underside of one wrist. “I like you, too.”

  “Stop flirting with Tally.” Clay wrapped an arm around her waist. “Okay, this falls through, we still have the original plan—we go in through that supply chute. Let’s start double-checking our calculations on its probable location.”

  And that was how they passed the minutes as they waited for the answer to a question that might cost a child his life and shatter something deep inside Talin. When it came, it was so unexpected, it stunned all three of them.

  It was illogical of me to ask you—you have neither the manpower nor the connections to assist me. But I will help Jonquil escape. Can you come to these coordinates at exactly 9 p.m.?

  Detailed instructions followed.

  Talin didn’t hesitate, knowing Clay would get her there in time.

  Yes!

  The reply was immediate.

  According to my information, you will have a 15-minute window to the second, after I give the signal. The satellites will be looking in another direction. Stay out of the coverage zone until then.

  If you fail to get here in time, I may no longer be able to protect him. He is a boy with the capacity to achieve much. His life is worth more than this senseless death.

  Don’t be late.

  With those last three words, this unknown Psy won Talin’s loyalty.

  CHAPTER 37

  The Ghost walked into an upscale bar in downtown New York and was immediately shown to the table where his acquaintance awaited. She was a minor official, this meeting a front. But the public location would serve as the perfect alibi.

  The bomb exploded to life exactly sixty-five minutes later.

  The majority of the Psy Council convened in an emergency session eleven minutes after that. Two Councilors were nominated to do a physical investigation, while another took on the task of analyzing the bomb debris. The remaining members focused on damage control.

  For a crucial window of time, the Implant lab was no longer under a Councilor’s direct supervision. During that same window, its security forces fell to below fifty percent of capacity, the majority of Ming LeBon’s army being pulled up into the PsyNet to strangle the spread of information. Their bodies remained in the lab, in a form of natural suspended animation, but their minds were working with furious speed.

  In the chaos, no one noticed the surveillance satellites blink.

  CHAPTER 38

  At three minutes past nine, in the black of true night, Talin maneuvered a seemingly ancient truck over a deserted piece of land several miles from where the lab was supposed to be. The Psy’s terse message had come precisely one hundred and eighty seconds earlier: Now.

  Another minute of dangerously fast driving later, she brought the truck to a stop near a small ramshackle cottage. Hidden as it was by the slope of the land and the overgrown vegetation, it was no wonder it had remained undisturbed. Or maybe it was the deadly laser fence a ways back, a fence that had been disabled at nine p.m. on the dot.

  Leaving the engine running, she got out of the truck alone. The plan had been for the others to hide in the truck bed, in case their uncertain ally had failed to turn the satellites. The Psy already knew about Talin’s involvement in the investigation, so her being seen was no tactical disadvantage. The opposite applied to Clay and Dorian.

  However, to their surprise, they had discovered the area to be heavy with concealing vegetation, including huge trees that had to have been transplanted here. It was as though someone had wanted to hide something.

  After a hasty conference, both changelings had jumped out of the moving vehicle. Clay had gone cat. Meanwhile, Dorian had taken to the trees, rifle in hand. Right now, she knew his sniper’s eye was located on the door to the cabin. The predators were ready to pull her out if this proved to be a trap.

  Half-sick
with hope and fear, she stood in place, in spite of her need to get inside, waiting for the signal that would tell her no danger had been scented or sighted. When she glanced to the side, it was to glimpse a pair of night-glow eyes hidden in the forest. They blinked once. Go.

  Vividly conscious of time ticking down, she ran to the door and pushed it open. She was prepared to find anything…except what she did find.

  Jon and a little girl lay on their backs on the dirt floor.

  With a soft cry, she dropped to her knees and checked their pulses. Both beat strong. It calmed her as she waited for Clay to come. But the seconds ticked past without any sign of him. Something had to have gone wrong. Her instinctive urge was to run out to help.

  Clay watched Talin walk in, his senses on high alert. A shift in the wind brought him Dorian’s scent…and that of another. The leopard listened to what the wind told it and knew he could leave that scent to Dorian. The other sentinel was already moving.

  He kept his eyes on the cottage into which Talin had disappeared only a second ago. But he wasn’t blinded by focus—he heard the crack of a twig several meters away as someone stalked toward his mate. Fighting the protective urge shoving at him to move and get Tally out of there, he stayed in place, listening, watching.

  The ugly metallic/dead/cold scent of Psy mingled with the more astringent odor of gun-cleaning fluid. His predator’s mind immediately understood that they had either missed a sentry or triggered sensors their ally had not known to disable. He lowered himself into a crouch, hidden in the vegetation. He’d told Tally to stay inside the cottage until he or Dorian came for her. Trusting her to stick to the plan, he turned his attention to the intruder.

  The man came into sight seconds later. Dressed in black, he moved with the careful gait of a trained soldier. But that wasn’t what interested Clay. It was the emblem on his shoulder. Two snakes locked in combat. The leopard bit back a growl. That was the same uniform as those that had been worn by the men who had butchered the DawnSky deer clan in an unprovoked attack.