Branded by Fire

by Singh, Nalini

  And if he went after Eduardo and Joaquin, she’d assume he didn’t know that.

  “Fuck.” Logic was a bitch sometimes. Forcing himself to get in the vehicle, he turned around and went home, parking the four-wheel drive in a designated spot miles from the den and completing the rest of the distance on foot.

  The exercise burned off most of his frustration and anger, but he couldn’t make himself stay inside the network of beautifully constructed tunnels that had protected SnowDancer from enemy eyes more times than anyone could count. Instead, after showering and pulling on a fresh T-shirt and jeans, he went outside and found a seat on a storm-fallen tree on the edge of the White Zone.

  He was sitting there, second-guessing his decision not to track Mercy down, when someone tracked him down. Catching the strawberry and candy scent on the breeze, he kept his back to his visitor, allowing her to decide if she wanted to talk to him.

  A moment later, a small hand tugged on his sleeve.

  Turning, he chucked Sakura under the chin. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  “It’s only nine and I had a nap today.” A smile and a hopeful look.

  Knowing he was a sucker, but unable to resist, he picked her up—doll and all—and sat her on his lap, where she curled into a contented little ball, her ear over his heart. A wave of tenderness swept over him and he cupped the back of her head in a gentle hold.

  “Riley?”

  “Hmm?” He stroked his hand over the sleek black fall of hair she’d inherited from her mother.

  “Have you seen my daddy?”

  Riley went over the roster in his head. “Elias should be coming back within half an hour.”

  “I’ll stay and wait.”

  “Did you tell your mom?” he asked, thinking that while the hair had come from Yuki, the eyes were indisputably Elias’s.

  A nod. Tiny fingers braiding her doll’s silky hair. “Riley?”

  “Sakura.”

  A giggle. “Did you see my tooth?” She tilted up her head. “See, I lost two.”

  “Where’d they go?” he teased.

  Another giggle, innocent and bright. “Mom said you should come have coffee with her and Dad.”

  Riley raised an eyebrow. “She did?”

  “Uh-huh. And she even made pecan pie.”

  Riley loved pecan pie, as Yuki well knew. “Your mom’s sneaky.”

  “That’s what Dad says.” She snuggled closer and he tightened his arms, very aware of her fragility. He couldn’t believe one of his tough soldiers had produced this tiny creature, but it was true. Half the time, Elias didn’t seem to believe it either. The other half, he strutted around like the proud papa he was.

  “How come she’s sneaky?”

  “She wants to ask me questions, and she’s bribing me with pie.” He had no doubts that Yuki wanted to grill him about Mercy. Damn nosy packmates.

  “Oh.” Her attention was on her doll. “Do you think she looks pretty?”

  “Very. Just like you.”

  A sunny smile was his reward. “I like you, Riley.”

  Riley felt his heart tighten. He liked Sakura, too. Brenna had once asked him if he’d had enough of parenthood what with having to shoulder so much responsibility in raising her and Andrew, but Riley had never seen it that way. To protect and raise a child was a gift. “What’s your doll’s name?”

  “Mimi.” Putting the doll on her lap, she patted his chest. “Riley?” A whisper.

  He bent his ear to her lips.

  “I ate some of your pie when Mom wasn’t looking.”

  Riley burst out laughing, realizing she’d come to hide from the results of her misdemeanor. It amused the wolf in him, too. Because this pup was one of his own, part of a pack both man and wolf had vowed to protect. Now another loyalty was starting to rise, and it confused him on every level, making him question truths so integral to his life that they simply were.

  Until her.

  If this fire between them turned dark and exploded outward, it had the potential to devastate both SnowDancer and DarkRiver.

  Still, he wondered how Mercy felt about kids . . . if a child was even possible between two such divergent changeling groups.

  CHAPTER 22

  Councilor Anthony Kyriakus looked at the husk that had been Samuel Rain and turned to the M-Psy standing next to him. “His chances of recovery?”

  Laniea glanced reflexively at the electronic chart she likely knew back to front. “Small but not negligible. We were able to go in and remove the last threads of the compulsion, relieving the pressure on his brain.”

  “But?”

  “But there was a lot of damage. We’re not going to know how much until he wakes . . . if he wakes.”

  Anthony knew Samuel Rain had been a brilliant robotics engineer. What would it do to him if he woke to a reality where he could never again create anything? “The signature on the compulsion was degraded. Did you find anything else during the scan?”

  Laniea shook her head. “The compulsion was woven by a highly experienced telepath—the signature was the first part of the programming to go.”

  “Send me the details. I may have missed something in my initial scan.”

  The telepathic transfer was concluded in less than a second. Laniea put the chart on the end of the patient’s bed and shook her head. “There’s one thing I haven’t factored into his chances of survival and perhaps I should.”

  Anthony waited.

  “His will.” The M-Psy shook her head. “He shouldn’t have been able to fight the compulsion, but he did. Maybe he’ll fight death with that same strength.”

  It was a diagnosis that came perilously close to taking emotion into account. But Laniea knew Anthony would never betray her.

  “Perhaps,” Anthony said, “we lost more than our emotions when we embraced Silence. Perhaps we sacrificed the very thing that made us fight for our right to live.”

  “If it’s waking again,” Laniea said, “it’s doing so with violence.”

  “But not in Samuel Rain.” Anthony saw in this young man’s refusal to surrender, a beacon of hope for his entire race. “In him, it woke to avert violence.” Faith, he thought, would be so happy to hear that. His daughter saw too much darkness, her foreseeing gift dragging her deep into the abyss.

  And yet despite it all, she kept growing ever stronger. It was dangerous for a Councilor to feel pride, to feel anything, but deep in the recesses of his mind, hidden behind a thousand shields, Anthony was proud of the woman his daughter had become. Now, he nodded to Laniea and left to update Faith on Samuel’s condition.

  CHAPTER 23

  Mercy woke the next day to the clawing viciousness of her cat, a twisting, agonizing need that refused to let her rest. What worried her was that it wasn’t only sexual. She missed Riley. “Oh, God.”

  She’d have sublimated her need in work, but she’d been ordered to take time off by Lucas, given the “ridiculous number of extra shifts” she’d pulled over the past few months. Saying he needed all his sentinels fully functional when this calm broke, he’d gone so far as to cancel her rotation on the city surveillance, meaning she was utterly free.

  And miserable.

  Hoping a cold shower would snap her out of it, she dragged herself to the bathroom. A message was waiting for her on the comm panel when she exited. Noting the familiar number, she called through. “Ashaya, what’s up?”

  Ashaya’s distinctive blue-gray eyes widened in surprise. “That was quick.”

  “Lucas ordered me to take the day off. The cheek.”

  Ashaya smiled—that smile was still new, but there was no doubting it came from the heart. “I was going to ask you for a favor, but you should do something fun on your day off.”

  “I’m going insane,” Mercy muttered, rubbing a hand over her heart. “Please give me something to do.”

  Ashaya’s smile faded into concern. “Mercy? What’s wrong?”

  “My hormones are taking over my brain.” God, she was going to
bite Riley hard for doing this to her. How had he addicted her to him so quickly?

  “Oh.” Ashaya nodded. “I’ve had a few of those moments since my defection.” Turning, she laughed at something Dorian had probably said before looking back. “As for the favor—I promised Amara I’d bring up something I’ve been working on. Do you think you could do it for me?”

  Ashaya’s twin was seriously nuts, but she was also smart as hell. “Won’t she want to see you?”

  “No, we’ve set up a meeting at a later date.”

  “What am I transporting?”

  “One of those chips we found on the humans who attempted to kidnap me,” Ashaya said. “I’ve been taking it apart bit by bit, trying to figure out how it works, what it does. Amara has a copy of her own, but I want her to see something I’ve found, get a second opinion.”

  “You get the report with my notes on Bowen’s take on the things?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m attempting not to jump to conclusions, however. I also got your message about speaking to Nash.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No,” was the disappointing answer, “but I’ll try again in a day or so. He may just be overwhelmed right now.” She turned again, the electric curls of her hair shifting with abandon. “Wait, Dorian wants to say something.”

  The screen switched to audio-only and she realized Dorian must’ve taken the portable handset outside. “Merce, I did that Enforcement check for you. The same knife was used in both kills in Tahoe.”

  “Damn.”

  “I’ve renewed the alert to our people in that area and they’ll get the word out to the nonpredatories. Drew’s handling the info-spread on the SnowDancer end. Problem is, Enforcement’s got nothing else yet, so we can’t get specific.” His voice dropped and he blew out a breath. “Where the fuck do they keep coming from?”

  “I wish I knew, Blondie.” She used the childhood nickname on purpose, nudging him away from the edge of darkness. He’d become so much more balanced since mating with Ashaya, but she knew he’d always mourn his murdered sister. So would she—as a child, Kylie had been determined to be included in all of Dorian and Mercy’s nefarious schemes, no matter that she was far littler.

  After Kylie’s death, Mercy had made a determined effort to remember the good times, the mischief, but her heart still hurt at odd moments—like when she saw something she knew Kylie would’ve loved. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Dorian. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “Or should I call you Boy Genius? That one seems to be catching on.”

  “Watch it, Carrot,” he said, then chuckled. “I’m handing things back to Shaya—Keenan says I’m missing the best part of today’s episode.”

  The comm filled with Ashaya’s face again, her curls looking wilder than before. “What’ve you been doing?” Mercy asked with a grin.

  Ashaya blushed. “Let’s say Blondie is a fast mover.”

  Any lingering concern Mercy might’ve had for Dorian disappeared. “I’ll be by in, say, two hours? That okay?”

  “We’ll probably still be curled up in bed, watching cartoons.” Her eyes filled with affection. “My mate and son have discovered a mutual love of superheroes and breakfast in bed. They’re determined to convert me.”

  The image Ashaya had sketched—of a lazy family morning—was so appealing that Mercy was almost surprised. Almost. Because she’d realized long ago that family was an integral part of her dream. “Don’t get crumbs on the sheets.” As she hung up to the sound of Ashaya’s laughter, she realized that Sierra Tech, where Amara worked, was smack bang in the middle of SnowDancer territory.

  Riley’s territory.

  The leopard came to attention. So did the woman. And that fast, all sensible thought was buried under a crashing wave of anticipation.

  Riley finished going over his worklist for the day, and handed out the assignments by phone. Unfortunately, the routine task didn’t succeed in keeping his mind off Mercy—for the first time in months, he’d dreamed not of Brenna’s abduction, but of a redheaded cat who refused to come to him. It had left him sweaty, the sheets tangled around his limbs like so much plastic.

  Even in his dreams, she defied him.

  However, despite his jaw-clenching frustration, he was almost finished when Hawke came in and grabbed a seat. “What’s my assignment?” he asked after Riley hung up.

  It was a serious question. Riley’s job was to coordinate their resources. Hawke was the best they had. It would’ve been a waste not to use him—though Riley always had to have a backup in place in case Hawke got pulled away on alpha business. “I’ve got an assignment you’ll love.”

  Hawke blinked, the slow, lazy blink of a predator very much on alert. “If the name Sienna appears in that assignment, I’m going to shred you open, tie your intestines in a bow, and feed you to the feral wolves.”

  Riley smiled and kept going as if Hawke hadn’t spoken. “You need to take care of a certain juvenile Psy female you gave sanctuary to when her entire family defected from the PsyNet.”

  “I should’ve given orders to eat them all.”

  “Psy taste rubbery,” Riley said straight-faced. “I know. I tried to chew off Judd’s arm once while we were hunting.”

  “Stop laughing,” Hawke said, though Riley hadn’t made a sound. “Just tell me what she’s done now.”

  “Nothing.” Riley dropped the bombshell and waited as Hawke’s mouth fell open.

  His alpha took several seconds to recover. “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” Riley repeated. “But you’ve been slacking off. You need to find her a position in the pack.”

  “She’s—”

  “No more excuses, Hawke.” Riley folded his arms. “She’s been eighteen for almost three months now, and she’s been in training with Indigo for what—ten months?” He brought up Sienna’s file on his handheld. “No, you stuck her in training over a year ago. She can protect herself well enough to do a number of tasks.”

  “She’s volatile.” Hawke’s jaw tightened.

  “She’s a telepath, a strong one.” Sienna was a cardinal—her abilities were off the scale.

  “She’s got abilities aside from telepathy. I’ve seen her lose control—she can do serious damage.” Hawke shoved a hand through his hair.

  “So can you,” Riley said pointedly. “She’s learning. Just because she—”

  “Don’t go there.” A growl.

  Riley raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say, just because she’s Psy doesn’t also mean she’s not an eighteen-year-old going stir-crazy.”

  “Fine.” Hawke was gritting his teeth. “I’ll handle it.”

  “Then I’ll leave it with you.” He’d made his point and Hawke was certainly not stupid. “I’m going to go up, check out the bear population in sector 2. There’ve been reports they’re getting sick.” If it was something serious, their vets would need to go up and investigate. Because whatever was affecting the bears could trickle down through the other animal groups in the area, decimating entire herds. And as the pack that claimed territorial rights over this area, SnowDancer was also its caretaker.

  More than that, Riley needed a chance to get out of the den before his frustration led him to strike out. The wolf was starting to claw at him, pacing this way and that, wanting blood if it couldn’t have sex.

  Mercy handed Amara the chip Ashaya had packed in a small, impermeable case.

  “Is it all good?” she asked Ashaya’s identical twin.

  Amara didn’t reply until she’d checked it under a microscope. “Yes.”

  Having a conversation with Amara was hard. She didn’t throw out verbal cues like most people—but at least she wasn’t homicidal any longer. “Anything you want me to take down to Ashaya?”

  Familiar blue-gray eyes looked into hers, but Mercy had a feeling she’d never mistake Amara’s gaze for Ashaya’s. “Not at this stage.”

  “Cool.” Nodding at the test tubes lined up on the workbench, she asked, “Looks int
eresting.”

  “Don’t worry,” Amara said, “I’m not creating another monster virus.”

  Since that was exactly what Mercy had been thinking, she grinned. “Never crossed my mind. What is it?”

  “A child’s game—to make colors.” She lifted a stunning blue one. “Copper sulphate.”

  “You don’t strike me as the playing type.”

  “A perceptive observation.” She put the test tube down next to one with a bright yellow compound inside. “But Sascha Duncan says I must try.”

  With any other person, Mercy would’ve waited for them to continue. With Amara, she had to be blunt. “Why?”

  “She says play appears to help with . . . emotion.” Shrugging, she picked up an empty test tube. “I don’t pretend to understand the workings of an E-Psy, but if I do this, she leaves me alone for a few days.”

  Mercy hadn’t known Sascha had been spending that much time with Amara—especially given what she knew of Sascha’s initial reaction to Amara’s absolute coldness. But their alpha’s mate was nothing if not determined. Amara needed to be helped in this unfamiliar new world, so Sascha was helping her. It was nothing more—and nothing less—than that. “Play teaches us things,” she said to Amara now. “It lets us try out ideas without worrying about whether they’ll work. Think of it as a creative form of brainstorming.”

  Amara stared at her. “That’s extremely astute.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that was a compliment.”

  Amara said nothing. After a second, Mercy realized it was because she hadn’t asked a question. “Was it?”

  “Of a sort,” Amara said. “I thought changeling soldiers were pure brawn.”

  “Your sister’s mated to Dorian and you think that?” Her fellow sentinel was hella smart.

  “I still want to kill him sometimes, so Ashaya doesn’t leave us alone much.”

  Mercy’s lips twitched at the straightforward answer. “Don’t worry—he gives me homicidal thoughts at times, too.” Then she got serious. “Fight it. Fight whatever it is that wants to drag you down. Giving in is for wusses.”