by Nalini Singh
Unlike wild animals, however, rogue changelings couldn’t be left to roam, because despite their animal skin, they weren’t animals. Rogues always came after the people they had loved when whole, as if part of them remembered who they’d once been and envied their packmates and lovers for still living that life. Lucas hadn’t had to execute a rogue for over seven years, and he hoped that record held for another seven and another and another.
No alpha wanted to kill his people.
Clay’s tattoo denoted something far different; like the rest of DarkRiver’s sentinels, he’d had the mark inked as a silent symbol of his loyalty to Lucas. That loyalty was a truth Lucas never took for granted. An alpha who didn’t value the respect of such strong men and women shouldn’t be alpha.
“Anyway, I’m heading over to see what’s up,” Clay said now. “Kid sounds worried.”
“I’ll come with you.” Lucas walked around his desk, shrugging his shoulders back to loosen muscles that had bunched up at the start of the comm call and stayed that way. “Could do with the fresh air. You want to walk?” It wasn’t far to the waterfront.
Clay glanced at the heavy black watch strapped to his left wrist. “Better drive. I have to be at a work site within the hour.”
“I’ll walk back so you can head to the site straight after we speak to the boys.” Sliding out his phone, Lucas sent a message as they walked out of the building and hopped in a pack vehicle.
The reply that made his phone buzz thirty seconds later helped with his feral tension. As did the emotions that kissed him through his mating bond with Sascha. Nothing calmed his panther as quickly as her touch. And though she was a woman who could heal emotional wounds, her empathic gift a treasured one, he knew she wasn’t trying to manipulate or influence him. It was Sascha’s love itself that settled him, along with the knowledge that she and their child were safe and sound.
Beside him, Clay stayed silent until after they’d pulled away from the HQ. That silence held no dark emotional undertones as it once had—the big, heavily muscled sentinel was simply quiet.
“A pool of silence,” Lucas’s mate had said not long ago, the white stars on black of her cardinal gaze lit with the sparks of color that appeared only in the eyes of empaths. “But it’s not emptiness. Clay’s just so calm, so centered, and so very, very content that I feel an untainted peace when I’m near him.”
Clay hadn’t always been that way. He’d come into DarkRiver as a strong but undisciplined eighteen-year-old who’d never before been part of a pack, who’d never even known another changeling leopard his entire existence. More than that, he’d spent years in juvenile detention. It had left him angry and lost and aggressive, a big, dangerous cat who’d had no idea how to handle either his strength or the fury riding him.
It was Nathan, DarkRiver’s most senior sentinel, who’d found that lost boy and hauled him into DarkRiver. But it was Clay who’d done the hard work to become a sentinel himself, earning his place at Lucas’s side. Emotionally, he’d still been broken for a long time, his duties to DarkRiver and his loyalty to Lucas and the other sentinels the only things that kept him from surrendering to his demons.
Then had come Talin.
In mating with her, then adopting Jon and Noor, Clay had truly left behind the loneliness and pain of his past.
“Trinity Accord?” The sentinel glanced at Lucas before returning his attention to the road.
Putting down the passenger-side window, Lucas tapped his fingers on the edge of the door. “Yes and no.”
The world-spanning and groundbreaking cooperation agreement had gone from idea to fruition in an impossibly short period of time, thanks to the existence of the Consortium. The shadowy group’s aim of destabilizing the world in order to take advantage of the ensuing chaos had ended up having the opposite effect when the various disparate parties began to talk and realized they had a common enemy. Unfortunately, while Trinity was a critical asset in the fight for a stable world, the speed with which it had been cobbled together had resulted in more than one critical hole.
The fact that the rush had been unavoidable didn’t mean the resulting issues weren’t still a pain in the ass. Especially since, with the ink barely dry on the names of the first signatories, Trinity had no administrative structure, which meant everything was being handled on an ad hoc basis.
But that wasn’t what had a growl building in the back of Lucas’s throat, his panther bristling with aggressive protectiveness once again as the comm call came to the forefront of his mind. “Aden called to pass on some intel,” he said, referring to the leader of the Arrow Squad. Assassins and black ops soldiers without compare, the deadly bogeymen of the Psy race had of late become quiet heroes.
It was Aden who’d set Trinity in motion.
Clay shot him another quick look. “Your claws are out.”
“Fuck.” Lucas retracted them with conscious effort of will, then shoved his hair out of his eyes; the black strands reached his nape at the moment. He’d have had it cut shorter except that Sascha loved running her fingers through it. He might wear a human skin at times, but he was also very much a cat—he wasn’t about to do anything to lower his chances of being petted.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t such pleasurable thoughts on his mind right then.
“Aden’s people picked up chatter about Naya in the back channels of the PsyNet.” Sascha had explained the psychic network that connected all Psy on the planet, except for the renegades, as a giant repository of knowledge. It was fluid and so big that no one could ever know every part of it.
The Arrows, however, walked its darkest alleys. Heroes or not, someone still had to hunt the monsters that prowled the PsyNet, the twisted minds that wanted only to murder and to hurt. Because despite over a century of cold emotionlessness that had been meant to erase mental instability and turn them into a race without flaws, the Psy still had an abnormally high number of serial killers. The Arrows alone had the strength and the skill to take down those vicious monsters.
“Why are strangers talking about your cub?” Clay’s question was a growl. “Naya is none of their fucking business.”
“Exactly.” Lucas’s protective urges had never been anything but violent. Part of it was simply who he was—he’d been born with the potential to be alpha and that included a powerful protective drive.
In his case, that drive had been honed to a razor’s edge by the horror of the childhood attack that had left his mother dead and his father critically injured, Lucas a prisoner of an enemy pack. Young and weak and heartbroken from watching his mother die in front of him, he’d fought desperately to escape his bonds, save his father. He’d failed.
That boy, however, hadn’t existed for a long time. Lucas was a man now. An alpha christened in blood. Anyone touched a hair on the head of any of the people under his protection, and he’d rip their arms off. That was just for starters. “Aden didn’t have too many details,” he told Clay, “says the speakers didn’t specifically reference Naya by name, but their mention of a Psy-Changeling child with a leopard father makes that a moot point.”
At this instant in time, there was only one child in the world who had a Psy parent and a changeling parent: Nadiya Shayla Hunter. Naya. Lucas and Sascha’s fierce, intelligent, mischievous daughter who was a couple of weeks away from turning one.
Less than a year of life and she’d already changed Lucas on a fundamental level.
He understood now why his father had passed in peace. Carlo Hunter had fought alongside his beloved mate, Shayla, to protect their son, then fought the agonizing pain of losing her and the effects of brutal torture long enough for pack to come. But despite his massive injuries, he’d left this world in peace. Death meant nothing when his child was safe.
“You think it might just be curiosity?” Clay asked. The sentinel was clearly fighting to keep his breathing even, his hands flexing and unflexing on the
steering wheel. “Now that Silence has fallen and the Psy are free to feel emotions, have relationships, they have to be wondering about the future. Naya’s a living, breathing symbol of that future.”
“No.” Even had it been curiosity, Lucas still wouldn’t have liked that his daughter was being talked about by strangers, a dangerous percentage of whom were virulently against the fall of Silence and the “dilution” of Psy “perfection,” but this was far worse. “Aden said his people heard mentions of ‘purity’ in the chatter.” Not everyone liked change, especially when that change challenged their worldview of their own race as superior.
“Fuck.” Clay’s voice was harsh. “I thought Pure Psy was dead.”
“They are.” The violent pro-Silence group had been hunted out of existence. “But their ideas are still floating around being absorbed by fanatical, ugly minds. No proof, but the Consortium’s probably stirring that rancid stew.” What better way to destabilize the world than to slyly encourage hatred among the races?
It was, after all, a tactic they’d already attempted on a bigger scale.
“It had to happen,” Clay said unexpectedly. “With the Es suddenly becoming so powerful, there’s got to be a hell of a lot of resentment simmering in the minds of folks that previously considered themselves top dogs. Suddenly, all these ‘inferior’ Psy are being held up as heroes.”
Lucas nodded. His own gifted mate had once called herself flawed, been taught to see herself that way. “Aden’s people only caught fragments, but there was definite mention of the fact that Naya’s mother is an E—and discussion of how to get to them both.” Fists clenching, he forced himself to think. “I’m going to review every security protocol around Naya and Sascha.”
He knew he’d have Sascha’s full support; his mate might chafe at some of the security precautions she had to take as a result of being one half of DarkRiver’s alpha pair, but she was completely onboard with any safety measures when it came to their cub. If anything, Sascha was even more protective than Lucas—he often had to remind her that Naya was a leopard changeling, needed more freedom than a human or Psy child of the same age. Cats didn’t like being caged. Not even little cats with fragile bones and baby-soft hands.
Remember that, he ordered himself. Don’t allow the enemy to force you into a position where you’re the cause of hurt to your own child.
• • •
SASCHA kept a firm hold on her worry after Lucas’s message alerting her to dangerous talk in the PsyNet about Naya. It was difficult when she knew exactly the kinds of treacherous minds that hid in the dark corners of the Net and how violently some of those minds despised the primal nature of the changeling race.
To them, Sascha and Lucas’s precious child would be an abomination.
Fury churned in her gut.
“Mama!”
Wrenching her anger under control with a harsh effort of will, Sascha tightened her grip on Naya’s hands where her baby walked in front of her. Her and Lucas’s green-eyed little girl had good balance for her age and a stubborn determination to walk, but she was still little and the forest floor wasn’t exactly even, so Sascha was helping keep her upright.
Not that Naya hadn’t made a break for it once already.
For the moment, however, her tiny fingers held on firmly to Sascha’s hands, her skin soft and the color a golden honey brown. A meld of Sascha’s dark honey and Lucas’s muted gold. Anglo-Indian, Japanese, Irish, Italian, more, Naya had a beautifully complicated genetic inheritance.
“Naya!” she responded in the same delighted tone, causing her daughter to laugh that big laugh of hers.
Having driven from the aerie, she, Naya, Julian, and Roman were walking the final meters to a border section of DarkRiver’s Yosemite territory; the land had been designated a play area for the regular gatherings DarkRiver cubs had begun to have with Arrow children. The sessions had initially been meant to teach the Arrow children how to play when, prior to Aden taking control of the squad, they’d had their innocence suffocated by training that sought to turn them into pitiless assassins and nothing more.
It had very quickly morphed into a fascinating exchange: The changeling and human children taught Arrow young to laugh and to have fun, while the baby Arrows made their wilder playmates stop and think more often than they otherwise might have done. But the best things were the friendships that had begun to form, with the children talking to one another via the comm between sessions.
The pack had put up climbing frames as well as swings in the area, though there was also an open field for unstructured play. Not many nonpack humans lived out this way, but the rare ones who did knew they were welcome to use the equipment and to join in the playgroup.
“Boys.”
Julian and Roman froze where they were scampering up ahead, two little statues in jeans and T-shirts. Sascha’s lips twitched. It had taken her time to learn that tone, but it was very effective at getting her favorite dose of double trouble to pay attention.
Tamsyn’s boys had been the first changeling children Sascha ever met, and she adored them to pieces, was guilty of spoiling them—but she’d also learned to discipline them as they grew. Not because they were naughty in a bad way, but because both were strong personalities and needed to understand that right now, Sascha was the boss when they were with her.
The rules of pack hierarchy existed for a reason, and for DarkRiver cubs, it existed to give them a firm foundation on which to stand. No confusion, no fear. Just a safe place where they could flex their own strength and grow into their personalities.
Oddly, the tone also seemed to work on the boys’ pet cat, Ferocious, who—thanks to Roman and Julian’s fierce defense of their pet—tended to think of herself as a great big leopard, too. Today, however, Ferocious was at home, so Sascha had to handle only the twins, both of whom were now in their first year of school.
Reaching the two adorable “statues,” Naya still holding on to her hands, Sascha said, “You can move now, but stay close.” These play sessions would only work long-term if everyone felt safe.
Arrows were Arrows because they’d been born with lethal psychic abilities.
The adult Arrows who helped supervise these sessions extended their own impenetrable shields to encompass the minds of Arrow young, so the kids couldn’t strike out by accident and felt free to play without worry of losing control over their deadly powers. Regardless of that, Sascha also always added a layer of protection over the minds of any human or changeling children in the playgroup.
Unlike most humans, changelings had strong natural shields, but there was no point in taking chances.
Ashaya usually attended, too, and between them they could cover the entire group. The rare times the scientist didn’t make it, Faith stepped in. Unlike Sascha and Ashaya, the foreseer didn’t have a child, but she loved playing with the children and was always happy to help out. And since Faith could create hyper-realistic illusions that fascinated the kids, she was a popular visitor.
Today, Sascha reached the play area to find both women in attendance. The rich brown of Ashaya’s skin glowed in the sunlight, her gorgeously wild curls tightly contained in a braid. Those curls were dark brown at first glance but contained so many shades within, from pure black to threads of gold. The other woman was wearing jeans and an oversize UC Berkeley sweatshirt that looked like it must be her mate’s.
Beside her, Faith high-fived Keenan before Ashaya’s six-and-a-half-year-old ran off to play. While the Arrows hadn’t yet arrived, several other DarkRiver cubs, as well as two of their nonpack human friends, were already scrambling over the climbing frames. Today’s morning-only school day would allow for a longer play session, and the children were clearly delighted at the idea. The Arrows had their own school but had been happy to mirror the half-day break.
“Can we go play, Sascha darling?” Julian asked, his impish expression hitting her right
in the heart.
“Yes, you can, Mr. Ryder.”
Her solemn response made the twins laugh so hard their eyes turned the green-gold of their leopards, before Julian held out a hand to Naya while Roman did the same on her other side. “Come on, Naya!”
Naya grabbed both boys’ hands at the same time in an impressive feat of toddler coordination and off they went. “For two such energetic boys,” Sascha said to Faith and Ashaya, “they’re incredibly patient with her.” As she watched, the twins lifted Naya onto a toddler-appropriate swing and made sure she was secure.
Naya happily kicked her legs.
“They are,” Ashaya agreed with a smile, while continuing to keep an eye on the children. “Part of it is personality, but it’s also a testament to how they’re being raised and how DarkRiver as a pack raises its children.” She frowned as a little human girl almost slipped—only to be hauled to safety by a quick-thinking cub.
“Maureen had to take her baby to the doctor,” Ashaya said, referring to one of DarkRiver’s human neighbors. “She asked us to watch her two girls.”
Sascha had already automatically extended her shields to back up Faith and Ashaya, taking special care to protect the human children. Their minds were even more vulnerable than those of changeling young. “I have them.”
“I love this.” Dressed in a thin V-necked sweater in royal blue that set off the dark red of her hair and looked beautiful against her creamy skin, Faith perched herself on a bench the kids used as an obstacle to jump or clamber over, as a clubhouse for playing under, for whatever else their imaginations made of it. “There’s so much promise here, so much light.”
Ashaya’s pale blue-gray eyes met Faith’s cardinal starlight. “I know exactly what you mean. The children have no concept of race or war or different political ideologies. They just know a good friend from a bad one.”
A car engine sounded, faint but unexpected enough that Sascha instinctively looked that way. Of course she couldn’t see anything through the trees, but she felt a telepathic knock soon afterward. The mind was a familiar one, all cool control and power: Judd Lauren, former Arrow, powerful telekinetic and current SnowDancer lieutenant.