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Shield of Winter

Page 27

by Nalini Singh


  And Z, promise me this--even if something bad happens, even if we're separated for some reason, you'll continue to fight for our people. We are better than this fearful cowardice, and I know you have the courage to show others that truth.

  I'm sorry for sounding so melodramatic, but I just have a bad feeling deep inside me. It's so cold, my love.

  You'll probably find this in the morning and tease me mercilessly for my theatrics, but for now, I'm going back to bed and to your arms. I intend to think up some brilliant rejoinders to the inevitable teasing as I warm myself against you. Perhaps I'll be terrible and wake you for a kiss, though I know you're tired, my strong, fearless Z.

  I could watch you forever as you sleep, your lashes shadowing your cheekbones (it really is unfair that you have such beautiful ones you know), and your lips relaxed as they never are in life. I am definitely going to wake you.

  --Your Sunny

  ZIE ZEN HAD lived a long lifetime, and in that lifetime, he'd met countless people. Many of those people owed him favors. Some he'd never collect, his actions not undertaken for any personal gain, but because those actions spoke to the part of him that was and would always belong to Sunny.

  Ashaya Aleine was one of the people he'd helped in Sunny's name. The gifted neuroscientist was also a trusted friend, despite the wide difference in their ages, and so he'd spoken to her about his great-grandson. "Can you or Amara do anything about the gauntlet?" he asked her over the comm now. Ashaya's twin was a true sociopath but for one thing--she loved Ashaya. For Ashaya alone, Amara would put her brilliant, broken mind to work on this complex problem.

  Ashaya went as if to thrust a hand through her hair, then seemed to realize the electric mass was in a neat knot at the nape of her neck. She dropped the hand to her side, her forehead lined in thought and her distinctive blue-gray eyes striking against the deep brown of her skin. She'd never been so expressive when he'd known her in the Net.

  "We've done a detailed first pass through the data you sent us last night," she said. "The technology is highly experimental." Folding her arms across a cardigan of pale gray, she shook her head. "It's a stunning construct on one level but lethal on another--even Amara admits we'll certainly kill Vasic if we attempt to remove it, and you know the razor-thin safety margins within which she operates."

  Zie Zen heard pained frustration in her tone. "Every fragment of data will assist," he told this woman who had no genetic connection to him, but who he trusted more than any of his blood aside from Vasic. "Send through any and all information or theories you collect as you continue to explore possibilities."

  Ashaya didn't argue with his request. "You're worried you'll need to move in an emergency situation."

  "It's a ticking time bomb." Fused to the body of a son who should've had a century more of life to live.

  "I'll forward you everything we have to this point and set up an automatic forward for any new material," Ashaya said, open compassion in her gaze. "I'm sorry. I never realized how much he meant to you."

  "I did not allow anyone to realize. It was better that way." Permitting them both to work in the shadows with no one aware that they were two sides of the same coin, one older, one younger. "And you, Ashaya? Are you well?"

  "Oh, yes." A deep poignancy to her expression, she said, "I sometimes feel as if I've been given too many gifts."

  "You've earned every one." She'd saved the Psy race from the slavery of a hive mind, helped the humans develop a covert technology that appeared to protect them against psychic coercion, but most important of all, she'd fought for a child's right to live.

  Ashaya went to respond when there was a sound offscreen, and she turned, her face wreathed in a smile so vibrant, it held purest joy. "Keenan, come here. Grandpa Zen is on the comm." Reaching down, she lifted her son into her arms, the boy's eyes the same distinctive blue-gray as Ashaya's, his skin the color of aged gold.

  Keenan leaned forward excitedly. "Hi, Grandpa Zen!"

  Zie Zen was listed as Keenan's father on this extraordinary child's birth certificate, but that was a fiction meant to preserve Keenan's life. Now, the boy had a real father in the leopard changeling who'd mated with Ashaya. Zie Zen had kept an eye on the family unit from afar, seen photographs of the changeling playing with Keenan--the dominant male, who was a gifted sniper, treated Keenan with the same discipline and affection as if the boy was his own natural cub.

  Keenan's open smile, his hand pressed to the screen of the comm, was another reassurance that he was in good hands. Zie Zen caught not even a hint of the strained pain and fear that had so often been in his eyes at the start of his life. "Hello, Grandson," he said. "What are your plans for this day?"

  "We're going to study the alphabet!" he cried, before lowering his voice. "I already know it, but some of my friends don't, so I help them."

  "That is a good thing, Keenan." The boy, Zie Zen thought, was showing every sign that he'd one day become a strong, honorable man. And unlike another child Zie Zen had once known, he was being given the chance to grow into himself in an environment where that honor and strength would be nurtured rather than abused.

  Zie Zen had often wondered what would've happened had he simply stepped in and removed Vasic from the Arrow training program. At the time, he hadn't done so because even he hadn't been immune to the deadly power of the Council, and to show his hand in such a way would have jeopardized a thousand other lives. So he'd made the ruthless decision to sacrifice one small boy for the good of many.

  Vasic did not blame Zie Zen for his choice, but then, Vasic did not expect anything from anyone, even from the one person he accepted as family. The matter of the gauntlet was the only time he had ever asked for Zie Zen's help, even as he laid his own skills at Zie Zen's disposal.

  "Why don't you recite the alphabet to me?" he said now to Keenan, knowing he would have to beg forgiveness for his crimes from Sunny when he crossed the threshold of this world, for she would've never made the same choice.

  Each life, every life, is important. Even this incredibly terrifying insect with way too many legs. Take it outside, Z. Don't squash it!

  Keenan's young voice intersected with the memory of Sunny's. The boy ran through the entire alphabet without hesitation, complete with examples for each letter. A smile of pride on her face, Ashaya cuddled her son before Keenan scrambled away with a cheerful good-bye.

  "He's extremely intelligent," she said. "Far beyond his age level." In her face was the knowledge that Keenan's DNA held myriad secrets. "But he doesn't want to skip anything, wants to attend the same classes as all his friends."

  "It is a happy thing for a child. To have friends." Vasic had only ever had one, but sometimes one was all that was needed to maintain a hold on reality, on the world. "You can always work with his teachers to make sure he has more challenging assignments as he matures."

  "I'm already in touch with them," Ashaya said, before her lips curved. "And I wouldn't have him miss anything, either--I want him to be a child, to grow up at his own pace. He does finger painting and loves it just as much as any other child. And yesterday, he joined a cubs and pups baseball team that'll start practicing come spring. Dorian's coaching."

  Zie Zen saw the softening in her expression as she spoke her mate's name, and he didn't admonish her for that tenderness of feeling. He'd once seen the same expression on his own face in the mirror, and he knew it did not weaken but rather, made one strong. He wanted to see the same on Vasic's face, wanted him to have the chance to grow into the love that had rooted itself in his heart.

  I could not save the child, Sunny, he told the woman who had lived in his own heart through all the cold, lonely decades. But I will save the man. I promise you this.

  Chapter 38

  An Arrow trusts no one but another member of the squad. Any Arrow who breaches this rule must be placed under immediate probation and given corrective training.

  First Code of Arrows

  AN HOUR AFTER Jaya's unexpected, pained reaction
on the street, the tall, elegant woman lay curled up on Ivy's bed. "I'm different from you."

  "Yes." Sitting down beside her, Ivy stroked the lustrous hair Jaya had released from her braids. "That must be why you collapsed when you tried to calm the crowd. Your tolerance for that type of empathic act is lower than mine." Because, as had already become clear, empaths weren't all the same. "But I couldn't even penetrate the victim's mind. You saw everything."

  "What use is it?" Jaya grasped a fistful of the sheet, crushed it, released the wrinked fabric, then repeated her actions. "To read the emotions of the dead?"

  "Maybe it's not about the dead," Ivy said, having had a chance to consider it. "Remember that bit in the Eldridge book about the impact on Es of long-term critical-care work? We all assumed it had to do with conscious patients, but what if she was talking about--"

  "People in comas." Jaya sat up, twisting to face Ivy, her pupils huge.

  "Or those otherwise trapped in their bodies." Wonder burst inside Ivy at the miracle of Jaya's gift.

  "I have to know." Jaya's hand shook as she thrust it through her hair. "I have to know, Ivy."

  Ivy nodded--if Jaya did have the ability to help people trapped within their own minds, they couldn't waste a single minute in confirming it. "The nearest hospital isn't too far. We can walk." Ivy paused, considered the logistics. "We should probably have an escort though." Confirmed Es continued to be the targets of attempted violence and simmering unrest. "I'll ask Vasic."

  Aden will go with you, he said in response to her telepathic query, and that was when she understood just how much he trusted the other Arrow. There may be further outbreaks--Abbot and I should remain close to the scene.

  The ice in his tone was somehow harder, edgier. Ivy wished she could hold him, remind him that life wasn't only horror and pain. We'll be down in a few minutes, she said, as Jaya rose and motioned that she was going to get her coat.

  No, Vasic replied. Wait for Aden to reach you.

  All right. Going with instinct, Ivy blew him a telepathic kiss, unsure if he'd understand the message that held no words.

  You have a bad habit of distracting me, Ivy Jane.

  Ivy shivered, then smiled, because while the ice remained, it now held an undertone of tenderness she didn't think her Arrow was aware of, but that she heard often when he spoke to her. I'll behave . . . for now. Take care of yourself--I'll be really, really angry if you get hurt.

  I would never disobey your orders.

  Heart aching, she decided that, somehow, today hadn't done the damage she'd feared. Her Vasic was still her Vasic. It was difficult not to continue speaking to him, but he was right; he had to concentrate--and she had to put on her own coat and shoes.

  "I'm sorry, Rabbit, but you have to stay here," she said to her pet when he jumped up at the sign that she was going out. "I have to go inside the hospital with Jaya, and I don't want to leave you tied up outside." She rubbed his furry head. "What would I do if someone stole you, hmm?"

  Her dog didn't look impressed with that, but hopped up on his haunches on the sunny windowsill, eyes on the activity outside.

  Vasic, she said on her way out, I'm leaving Rabbit here. Could you or Abbot check in on him if we're gone long?

  Vasic didn't tell her he had far more important things to do. Instead, he said, I'll pick him up once we've cleared all the buildings of threats. He can help me keep watch.

  He melted her from the inside out, her dangerous, beautiful Arrow, made her veins fill with a joy so incandescent, it was captured sunshine. I adore you.

  Tell me again when we're alone.

  *

  IVY was still a little breathless from the rough sexual promise inherent in Vasic's last words when she walked into the hospital with Aden and Jaya. She didn't know what Aden said to the nurse in charge of the ward in question, but the trim Hispanic woman didn't dispute their right to be there.

  In fact, she led them to a young male in a state-of-the-art monitoring bed. Though he was free of wires, his vital functions monitored by the bed itself and accessible through the panel at the end, he had at least three tubes feeding in and out of his body.

  From what Ivy could see of his face and shoulders, his pallid white skin was clear of cuts and bruises.

  "Vehicle accident resulting in severe head trauma," the nurse said, a subtle wildness to her emotional resonance that told Ivy she was changeling. "We've done all we can, but he's been in a coma for the past eight weeks."

  That explained the lack of visible injuries.

  "He's human," the nurse added. "That make a difference?"

  "No, I don't think so." Jaya's shoulders rose then fell as she inhaled slowly, exhaled as slowly. "Is it all right if I touch him?"

  "I'll monitor his vitals in case he has an adverse reaction."

  Standing near the doorway with Aden while Jaya took a seat in the chair beside the bed, Ivy found herself examining him. At about five feet nine inches, he wasn't as tall as Vasic, and his features were Asian to Vasic's Slavic, but the two Arrows were cut from the same template regardless. Military bearing, eyes that saw everything, a face that gave nothing away.

  "May I ask you a question?" she said softly, one eye on Jaya as the other empath placed her hand on the patient's forehead with conscious gentleness.

  Aden nodded. Telepathing will be easier if you don't wish to be overheard.

  Thank you. It's about Vasic.

  Aden's dark eyes--so rich a brown they were near black--held hers. I know.

  I want to ask you to tell me the things he never will. Her Arrow was too protective, too uncaring of his own pain. Teach me what I need to know. Vasic and Aden were blood brothers, intertwined on a level that made them as close as twins. She couldn't get to know one without the cooperation of the other.

  Aden was quiet for a long time. I've lost him, too, he said at last. He's been walking toward the abyss since the first time he was injected with Jax and forced to take a life. I watched it happen, and I couldn't stop it.

  Nothing in his voice or his expression betrayed any hint of pain, but Ivy knew Arrows now. These men and women were too strong and too intelligent not to have the capacity to feel with wild fury. You helped him stay stable.

  No, Ivy. I made sure he didn't go over the final edge, but that isn't enough. He maintained the intensity of the eye contact as he continued. Deep within, Vasic doesn't believe he has the right to have a life. Do you understand?

  Pain stabbed the backs of her eyes at the confirmation of what she'd already suspected. Yes. I've told him the future is his to make, that he can choose the path he takes.

  Aden put his hands behind his back, the fingers of one clasping the wrist of the other. He may appear to accept that on the surface, but the wounds go deep. He's lived in his personal purgatory for years. You can't be complacent.

  I won't, she said, jaw tight. I think if the ones who used him and hurt him stood in front of me, I'd happily forget I was an empath and do them serious damage.

  You'd have to wait your turn.

  Ivy looked up at that lethally cold statement, her gaze on the clean angle of his profile. Do you mind? That I'm trying to get him to bond with me?

  Even were you Nikita Duncan, Aden said, I'd back you with every cell in my body, so long as you promised to haul Vasic into life. A pause. An empath though . . . he needs softness and kindness and care on the deepest level. And he needs it from someone strong enough to care for him even when the return seems negligible. Again he turned to her. Do you have that courage?

  The answer was easy. It's never negligible, Aden. Vasic speaks with his eyes, with his touch, with the way he cares so deeply and truly that I've come to simply accept he'll be there when I need him. Emotion burned her eyes, her telepathic voice impassioned. He has a heart so huge, it's kept pumping, kept going long past endurance--even though life has bruised it to a pulp.

  Aden turned his body toward her . . . and then he did an unexpected thing for an Arrow. He reached out to cup
her jaw, hold her face for a long, taut second, their eyes locked. I think, he said at last, you are a worthy match for my friend, Ivy Jane. You see the greatness of him--and you see his vulnerability. Neither scares you. A decisive nod as he broke contact. Anything you need from me, you can have. You need only ask.

  Ivy blinked rapidly to swallow the scalding wet of her tears, conscious Jaya had just gasped and turned toward them. "I can sense him." A dazzling smile. "He's in there, and he's frustrated and angry that no one can hear him. I can help him find a way out." Jumping up, she tugged Ivy close with excited hands. "You try."

  Ivy did, caught only the dull echo of emotion that told her the patient wasn't brain-dead. "I think this is your gift, Jaya," she whispered, hugging her friend in awe.

  Aden didn't speak again until after Jaya had gone to talk to the nurse about the readings the nurse had picked up during the session. It's a priceless gift, he said, but it isn't enough. There have been two further outbreaks in different parts of the world in the time we've been at this hospital. We are losing this war.

  Chapter 39

  Alice was one of the most gifted graduate students I have ever had the pleasure to supervise. In truth, I had come to consider her a colleague long before she earned her doctorate. Alice saw the truth with an incisiveness that is rare in academia and, indeed, the world. She often asked me questions that made me take a second look at my conclusions, challenging me to dig deeper, uncover more.

  What she accomplished in a short twenty-seven years is extraordinary. She leaves behind a legacy that will stand the test of countless decades. The consequences of the upheaval in the Net means there are few empaths in attendance today, but they stand for the many, and those many tell me that no one knew designation E as well as Alice. No one.

  Excerpted from Professor George Kim's eulogy for Alice Eldridge, PhD

  SASCHA'S MIND WAS full of her intense, frustrating discussions with the Es scattered around the world, when Lucas picked her up at the pack healer's home around two. Their destination was the Sierra Nevada wolf den. According to him, he had business with Hawke, but the truth was, he knew how much the news of the outbreaks had shaken her. So many dead and injured and it was only the tip of the iceberg.

 

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