by Nalini Singh
Brenna stroked his forearm. “If I’m right, you’ll be holding another baby very soon.”
Judd began to ask what she meant when he caught the line of her sight. His brother Walker was standing in the shadows thrown by a distant cabin, but there was no mistaking the joy on his face, or the protective way he had his hand over a beaming Lara’s stomach.
Judd’s heart gave this great big kick of a beat. “If anyone deserves to be a father again, it’s Walker.” His brother was the best father, the best man, that Judd had ever known.
Brenna tucked herself under his arm when he held it out. “Do you want kids?”
Judd looked down at the now sleepy-eyed baby in his arms, found himself nodding. “One day. When we’re a little older and more . . . like Walker and Lara. More steady. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know exactly. They’re rooted and solid, anchored.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “We’re still finding our way, discovering who we are. But one thing I know—you’re mine and I’m yours and any growing we do will be together.”
“Always.” Judd couldn’t imagine life without Brenna. It simply didn’t make sense to him. “Do you think I should give her back?”
“Finders keepers, I say.”
So they kept the baby for an hour, watching her sleep and touching her upturned nose every so often, or brushing their fingers over her little fists. It was Emmett who finally came to claim his daughter. “Come on, baby girl,” he murmured, taking her from Judd.
His hands were big and a little scarred, his face rough-edged despite the fact that he’d shaved, but the tenderness in his hold was endless. The baby’s face lit up even in sleep at the sound of her father’s voice.
“Thank you for letting us hold her.” He knew Emmett must’ve been aware of his daughter’s location every instant that she hadn’t been in his arms.
“I figured she couldn’t be more safe than with an Arrow. You protect the innocent after all.” Emmett kissed his daughter’s forehead. “But now this kitten’s great-grandmother wants to see her and she has first rights.”
As the other man turned and walked away, Judd felt his heart give another kick. Because for the longest time, the Arrows had been the nightmares, the bogeymen. They’d protected, too, but no one had seen it. Now, at last, the world was starting to understand. It no longer mattered so much to Judd, but for his brethren . . .
He searched for and found Vasic in the crowd. The teleporter was standing quietly beside his mate while she chatted to Sascha, but he was engaged. He was present. As was a man who wasn’t an Arrow but who walked the same dangerous roads. Catching his gaze, Kaleb nodded. Judd nodded back before returning his attention to the wolf who’d hauled him into her arms and taught him to live.
“Let’s dance,” he said. “I want to celebrate this night.”
• • •
ANNIE’S leg ached but it was nothing major, not now that she was using the anti-inflammatories Tamsyn had prescribed. The relative lack of pain left her free to enjoy the festivities. She’d become used to changeling events in the time she’d been mated to Zach, but this one was unusual in more than one way. Not just because of the wolves but all the others here tonight.
That was when she saw him across the clearing. He was standing by the trees, separate from everyone while his eyes tracked the woman with dark blue eyes who was Faith’s cousin. Annie knew who he was of course—hard for anyone not to recognize the man rumored to be the most powerful Psy in the Net.
But seeing Kaleb Krychek on the comm screen was different from seeing him in person. The power that pulsed off him . . . It was strangely familiar, but perhaps she was fooling herself. Still, she had to know.
Moving carefully and using her cane for support, she made her way across the clearing after checking to see that Rowan was happy in the arms of one of his young aunts. There he was, her beautiful boy.
She felt as if she was smiling with her entire body.
The constant use of the cane, the problems with her leg that had resulted from the change in her balance during pregnancy, it was all worth it.
Of course, Zach was a growly overprotective leopard who hated seeing her in any pain. If he had his way, she’d be sitting in bed drinking tea and eating crumpets every day. Smile growing impossibly deeper, she looked around, found her mate.
He was hunkered on the ground with his nephew Bryan standing behind him. Bryan had his hands over Zach’s eyes as he asked his uncle to guess something. Ah, that explained why Zach hadn’t zeroed over to her as soon as she left her comfortable seat. She liked that seat, loved how people constantly came over to socialize and how the cubs squeezed their warm, squirmy bodies in beside her when they wanted a rest.
Annie wasn’t stubborn without reason, and there was no reason to put unnecessary pressure on her leg when she could sit now and save up her energy for later.
Like for petting her mate.
But she couldn’t sit. Not tonight. Not at this moment.
Kaleb’s eyes connected with hers when she was still several feet away. He scanned away an instant later, likely believing she was moving to join a group a little way to his left. When she stayed on course, however, he returned his attention to her; she was close enough now to truly see those extraordinary eyes, see the white stars on black that was a cardinal’s gaze.
After coming to know Sascha and Faith, she’d realized cardinal eyes weren’t all the same. Each was distinctive . . . and this pair, she would never, ever forget. Throat thick, she came to a halt about two feet from him, the two of them far enough away from everyone else that they had privacy. It was clear he didn’t recognize her. Why should he? She’d been a small, skinny girl of seven at the time he last saw her.
He’d been a child, too, but those eyes. Those eyes.
“May I be of assistance?” he asked when she stayed silent. “I can teleport you back to your seat if you’re in pain.”
Annie shook her head, her eyes burning. “It’s you,” she whispered.
He stared at her for several seconds before his gaze went slowly to her leg, then to the cane on which she rested her hand and her weight. When he lifted that starlit gaze to meet hers once more, she knew he remembered. Remembered the freak bullet train derailment, remembered the small girl trapped under a crushing weight of metal, remembered lifting that metal so she could be pulled out.
“They saved your leg.”
Swallowing, she nodded. “Plassteel that grew as I grew,” she told him. “It was the most advanced operation at the time.” There had been progress since then, and Annie had been considering one more operation that would fix the remaining issues, but then she’d fallen pregnant and decided the operation could wait. “My name is Annie Quinn.”
“I saw you with an infant.” Kaleb’s voice was as midnight as the sense of power that swirled around him.
“Yes, he’s mine. Mine and Zach’s.” A tear rolled down her face. “Thanks to you, I’m here and I’m—”
“Angel.” Zach’s voice, holding a hard edge. “Why are you crying?” He placed a hand on her lower back, Rowan cradled in his other arm.
Looking into his beloved face, she said, “Zach, it was Kaleb.” More tears rolled down her face. “All those years ago, it was him.”
Her mate’s grim expression changed into one of quiet respect. Sliding his hand out from behind Annie, he held it out to Kaleb. “It’s an honor.”
Kaleb shook Zach’s hand, though Annie could guess he wasn’t a man at ease with skin privileges on any level—except with Sahara.
“I did what was necessary,” he said with no change in his intonation or expression.
“You did what was right.” Annie refused to allow him to brush aside his heroism. He’d been a boy with such old eyes, and he’d done what was right. From what she’d learned of the Psy since becoming part of DarkRiver, she knew tha
t choice would’ve cost him.
Under Silence, a telekinetic child would’ve been strictly supervised . . . and likely tortured in an effort to teach him control. “You were a hero that day,” she said through a throat gone raw. “I will never ever forget what you did.”
Zach pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you for saving my mate,” he said to Kaleb afterward. “I’ve wanted to say that to Annie’s ‘boy with the cardinal eyes’ for a long time.”
Kaleb inclined his head very slightly. “There is no debt,” he said, as if he’d tried to work out why she’d approached him and come up with that answer.
Smiling, she wiped away her tears. “I know. You’re a good person.”
“I believe you’d be one of two people on the planet who’d say that. The other one is the woman changelings would describe as my mate, so she’s understandably biased.”
That made her laugh wetly while Zach grinned. “Can’t say the man’s not honest.” He rubbed her lower back. “You want to tell him or shall I?”
“I want to.” Touching her fingers to her baby’s, she said, “This is our son, Rowan.” She looked up to hold Kaleb’s eyes. “I’d like to use your name as his middle name.” Without Kaleb, she wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have a mate and a son. It was important to her to honor the act of courage of the boy he’d been in a way that made him part of her family.
Kaleb took several seconds to reply. “Are you sure you want him linked to me?” he asked at last.
“Yes.” She knew what the world saw when they looked at Kaleb Krychek, but she saw the hurt boy who’d nonetheless thought of others. She was glad, so glad that he’d found joy, that he’d found love. “You will always be a part of our family, and I hope you’ll accept that invitation in the spirit it’s given.”
Kaleb’s eyes left hers, found his mate’s, and Annie had the sense he was talking to her. When he looked back at her, he said, “Thank you.”
“We’ll send you our details, in case you’d like to visit.” She didn’t think Kaleb Krychek was the visiting-babies-and-friends kind of man, but he was family now and would be treated as such. “I hope you come.”
“Yes,” Zach added. “You’ll be welcome.”
• • •
AFTER Kaleb inclined his head in acknowledgment of the DarkRiver couple’s offer, the male—Zach—began to coax his mate to head back to her seat. Having noticed how heavily Annie leaned on the cane and was now leaning against her mate, Kaleb said, “Would you like a lift?”
They both stared at him before grinning in concert. It was Zach who said, “Why the hell not?”
It took less than a heartbeat. He could see the destination and they were standing in front of him. Even as Annie opened her mouth to speak, the couple and their baby found themselves by the comfortably cushioned wicker chair from where Annie had walked over. Laughing, the couple waved at him before Zach helped Annie into her seat, then handed the infant to her.
An infant named Rowan Kaleb Quinn.
That was the first time I exercised my own free will, he said to Sahara as his heart walked toward him, a woman of about five two in a strapless gown the color of ripe cherries that set off the warm shade of her skin. She’d chosen the black-on-black suit he wore, caressing her fingers over his pectoral muscles before she buttoned up his shirt.
I glimpsed news of the train derailment on the comm screen, he told her, saw that a small girl was trapped underneath all that twisted metal. A child just like him, hurt and broken. So I snapped the chains on my mind and for a small fraction of time, I was free and I was doing something good.
Flowing into his arms, Sahara looked up at him with eyes that had always seen him for exactly who he was—a man who lived in the gray but who loved her with every dark corner of his soul. “You were being true to yourself.” She spread her hand over his heart. “Even in the horror, you found the will and had the courage to fight for what was right.”
He brushed his hand over her hair. Here, with the changelings, such contact between mates was accepted—expected even. They were a highly tactile race, and while Kaleb would’ve found that strange before Sahara came into his life, she’d long ago taught him the value of a touch given in affection and love.
Let’s be young and happy today, Kaleb. Sahara’s mind speaking to his, her telepathic voice poignant with memories of all the celebrations they’d missed, all the pain they’d survived. Like we were in that market in Istanbul. Forget about everything else for one night.
Kaleb was always on alert for threats, but that didn’t mean he’d deny Sahara. If she asked for the moon, he’d find a way to lay it at her feet. Anything you want.
The catastrophic problem with the Net would still be there tomorrow, as would the Consortium’s machinations and the politics of the powerful and dangerous.
Will you dance with me? The charms on Sahara’s bracelet clinked against one another as she lifted her arms to link them around his neck, her love for him proud and open.
Deep inside, even the part of him that was the void, merciless and dark and broken, knew happiness, knew joy. You’re the dancer. But he took her into his arms and they moved to the rhythm of the slow, romantic song the band was playing. Kaleb knew it was romantic because Sahara whispered that to him while stealing a kiss.
Her hair was soft, carrying the fresh scent of her shampoo. He’d washed her hair for her in the shower earlier that day, after which he’d demanded payment for his work in kisses. With her, he could be young, could be the boy with whom she’d fallen in love before the world tore them apart.
No one interrupted them for that song or the next. But on the third . . .
“Hi, Mr. Krychek!”
Kaleb glanced down to find himself looking into the face of a child of about five or six, the boy’s dark hair messy silk. “Hello.”
“Zach said you teleported him!” The boy was all but jumping up and down. “Can you teleport me?”
Do you think he has any idea I’m considered a deadly threat by most individuals on the planet?
Nope. Sahara’s eyes laughed at him. He thinks you’re a new toy.
It cost Kaleb nothing to teleport the child to the far side of the compound. He could hear the boy’s excited cry from here. “Perhaps we should leave before he tells all his small friends.”
Weaving her fingers through his, Sahara tugged him forward. “Come speak to the adults. They’ll make sure the children behave.”
Kaleb found himself next to Judd not long afterward, Sahara having led him to the man who was his friend. “You two talk,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance to catch up with Faith yet.”
“Do you get asked to be a personal teleporter?” Kaleb asked Judd after Sahara blew him a kiss and began to weave her way through the crowd to find her cousin.
“Yes.” A slight smile from the former Arrow. “Even though I occasionally dump them in the lake.”
“I probably shouldn’t do the same as I’m a guest, and over half the people here are still certain I’m going to kill them at any moment.”
“True.” Judd nodded toward Annie and Zach. “Saw you talking. You know them?”
“Yes. From a lifetime ago.” He realized he’d never told Judd of the childhood incident, did so now. “She’s going to give her child Kaleb as a middle name.” He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Judd’s expression turned solemn. “An honor and an invitation.”
“Yes.” Kaleb saw a child running toward them, teleported the girl right next to her elders—who grabbed her by the shoulders and made her sit down to eat at a picnic table. “It appears I’m gathering even more . . . people.”
“People?” Judd shook his head. “I think you mean family.”
“Sahara is my family.”
“She’s the center, yes, but a family is a living organism. It grows in many directions. Li
ke Xavier’s Nina—she’s now part of our family, too.” Judd’s eyes followed a pair of leopard cubs who’d snuck under the food table and were attempting to pull down the tablecloth. A tiny panther cub stood on this side of the table and looked at them with an inquisitive expression on its face.
A second later, the leopard cubs found themselves in front of a tall brunette dressed in a fitted gown of shimmering bronze. She looked down at their startled faces, then located Judd in the clearing and called out, “What did they do?”
Judd pointed to the tablecloth they hadn’t quite managed to dislodge.
Hands on her hips, the brunette scowled down at the cubs who were now both sitting up in an attentive pose. “You do realize I could punish you by saying no more dessert this entire party?”
Flopping onto their fronts, the cubs hid their eyes using their paws.
Kaleb could see the brunette struggling not to smile.
Going down on her haunches, she lifted the cubs by the scruffs of their necks. “That was a very naughty thing to do,” she said sternly. “I’m going to give you a pass because it’s a celebration but any more naughtiness and I’m taking you home and making you Brussels sprouts for dinner.”
The cubs’ mouths fell open.
“Yes,” she said in that same stern tone. “Brussels sprouts, with spinach for dessert. Now, will you be good?”
Two quick nods.
“Hmm. I’ll be watching.” Setting down the chastened cubs, she managed to keep a straight face until they were far enough away that they didn’t see her grin as she came over to Judd and Kaleb. “People keep telling me they’ll get into less mischief as they get older, but I swear they’re just getting smarter about their naughtiness.”
“They know they’re safe,” Kaleb found himself saying. “It gives them the freedom to push boundaries.”
The brunette, who he’d identified as the DarkRiver healer, Tamsyn Ryder, nodded. “I know, but I’m already starting to dread their teenage years. I have visions of jetcycles and climbing up girls’ walls at night.” Affection colored every word. “Knowing the two of them, they’ll work together to steal ladders to scale those walls.”