Hostage to Pleasure p-5

by Nalini Singh

  “The Web seems to have decided to treat him as their cub, giving him full access.” She drew a triangle around the new family. “Amara, on the other hand, is connected through the twin bond.” She drew a small circle that cut very slightly into the Web of Stars.

  “I initially expected Amara to be connected to Ashaya, and otherwise isolated, but the Web’s allowed her to be a peripheral part of it. I think it’s because it understands that she’s a psychic being, that she needs to know the Web is there. However, she can’t actively surf or influence it. I’d worry about that limitation since she is caged in a way, but I think Ashaya is the sole person Amara truly cares about. As long as she can talk to her twin on the Web, she’s not bothered.”

  Lucas continued to stare at the diagram. “If Ashaya dies, so will Amara. But not vice versa.”

  “Yes.” Sascha put away the pen and organizer. “I don’t think it could be any other way. Ashaya is a complete sentient being, but Amara…” She put her head against Lucas’s chest, finding comfort in the feel of his arms coming around her. “She’s only complete if Ashaya exists.”

  A pause and she knew he was thinking things through. “I guess we can find her a position at Sierra Tech,” he said at last, referring to the research and development company in which DarkRiver held a major stake. “We’ll give her a chance to prove herself.”

  “Who knows,” Sascha commented, recalling Amara’s piercing intelligence, “she might end up being an asset.”

  Lucas didn’t look convinced but he nodded. “Do we need to tell Dorian all this?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on things, let him know if there’s a problem.”

  “I guess I’ll have to trust you.” A teasing statement but one that held a question.

  Of course he’d sensed her disquiet, she thought. He knew her to the depths of her very soul. “I need to tell you something.”

  He rubbed his hand along the sweep of her back. “Good. My patience was about to run out—you’ve been sleeping badly ever since you visited Amara.” A lethal edge had entered his voice.

  “It’s nothing she did,” Sascha said. “It’s something she said.”

  “Sascha, we’ve had this conversation. The woman is a—”

  She put a hand over his mouth. “Listen to me instead of acting all alpha.”

  He licked her palm. She dropped it and scowled at him. “Behave.”

  “Talk.”

  “Amara’s words triggered some kind of switch in my mind, clarified something I’ve been getting hints of over the past few months.” She took a deep breath, exhaled. “My powers… they’re changing.”

  “How?” His expression grew solemn. “Is it something that’s going to hurt you?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s this… sense that they’re spreading out, developing. I just have no idea what they’re developing into.” That scared her. Her mother was the best viral transmitter in the Net. She could kill with a single thought. “What if I turn into Nikita?”

  “Not a chance.” He ran the knuckles of one hand over her face. “Think of it as an adventure. We’ll learn about it together.” A pulse of love came down the mating bond, a pulse of devotion.

  She felt her heart become his all over again. “I’m so glad you’re my mate, Lucas.” Whatever it was she was becoming, it was no longer so scary, not when she had a panther by her side.

  On the other side of the car park, a dark-haired male lowered a pair of binoculars and coded in a call on his cell. “Definite no go,” he said to the person on the other end. “The hospital’s swarming with DarkRiver leopards.”

  “Options?”

  “We wait until she’s released. Quick, clean extraction. They won’t be expecting us.”

  A small pause. “They never do, do they? After all, we’re no threat.”

  “They’ll learn different.”

  “When we’re ready,” came the order. “Keep watching. They’ll drop their guard sooner or later.”

  “We should’ve taken her in the parking garage,” the watcher said, referring to the location of Ashaya’s final broadcast. “I was less than twenty feet from her and the cat.”

  “Too big a risk of being caught on surveillance. Surprise is our biggest weapon.”

  Because not even a leopard could hunt a phantom.

  CHAPTER 48

  Dorian isn’t sleeping well anymore. I can feel the leopard’s frustrated anger building once more. The intensity in him, the same intensity that drives his will to succeed, and powers his incredible loyalty, also lends itself easily to obsession. I will not let him go down that dark path. Not again.

  – From the encrypted personal files of Ashaya Aleine

  Dorian met with Lucas and the other sentinels a few days later, his body fully healed. “They tried to kill my mate. They broke the rules.” A quiet statement made in the sniper’s lethal tone.

  His mate was Psy. The boy he already considered his own was Psy. It made it impossible for him to hate the other race as he once had. But there were some Psy he would never, ever forgive. The Council had taken his sister. Then they’d tried to take his mate. The monsters were all fucking dead.

  “I know you want blood, Dorian,” Lucas said. “But there’s a problem.”

  Dorian respected the hell out of Lucas but the leopard wasn’t just going to let this go. Neither was the man. “What?”

  “We don’t know who ordered the hit.” Lucas held up a hand before anyone could interrupt. “Vaughn, you take it.”

  “I spoke to Anthony,” the jaguar said. “He says there’s dissension in the Council ranks. Ashaya was only supposed to be killed if all attempts to recapture her failed.”

  Dorian swore, low and hard. “It had to have been a Councilor. No one else would’ve had access to a Tk who could teleport.”

  “Anthony agrees, but he can’t pin it down.” Vaughn’s face was full of the same cold rage as Dorian’s. “Some of the Councilors are suggesting it was actually a vigilante pro-Silence group. They call themselves Pure Psy.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Yeah.” Vaughn folded his arms. “But it leaves us with no clear target.”

  Breathing past the black chill of the sniper’s fury, Dorian forced himself to think. “What’s to stop them from trying again?” His need to protect Ashaya was a craving that ate away at him night and day. “She’s so high profile, she’s an easy target.”

  “Eamon got you being shot on tape,” Clay said into the quiet. “He didn’t drop the camera until after the blood started spraying.”

  “Gee, thanks for the reminder.” Dorian scowled at the other man.

  Mercy threw a cushion at him. “You’re an idiot, Blondie. Clay’s saying maybe the Council shot itself in the foot this time.”

  “No, they shot me,” Dorian said, but he was thinking. “How much did Eamon get?”

  “Full back view of the shooter, you taking the hit for Ashaya. It was a live feed—it’s already out there.” Clay shrugged. “You could stalk them, and maybe get yourself killed in the process, or you could sit back and let them implode.”

  “You’re asking me to be fucking rational,” Dorian muttered. “I haven’t been rational in a long time.”

  Cool blue ice over his soul, passion and heart, gentle hands and sweet lips.

  Shaya.

  His mate. Safe and sound. And rational enough to anchor his more volatile personality. “Fine, push the feed again and again,” he said. “Let’s see how the bastards spin this.” Psy were emotionless but they weren’t stupid. “Get enough copies out there and someone will upload it to the PsyNet.”

  “Probably already done,” Nate said from his position on the floor. “We’ll have to wait and see which tack the Council decides to take. Could be it finally makes Ashaya too hot to hit, or…”

  “Or could be they try to destroy the root of the problem.”

  “In which case,” Lucas said quietly, “we’ll all go hunting with you.”

  Dorian looked at hi
s alpha and felt his leopard settle a fraction. He knew the promise would be kept. “Any other business?” he said, telling them the vicious edge of blood hunger had passed. Whether the calm would last was another question. He’d never been particularly good at letting things go.

  “The humans,” Clay said. “The ones that were sniffing around after Ashaya? The Rats thought they might have a base in the Tenderloin, but there’s been no movement for days.”

  “Probably scared off by the shooting,” Nate said. “Humans don’t like to get in the middle of Psy-Changeling turf wars.”

  Dorian agreed. “We’ll need to stay on alert, but there’s very little chance of a human getting close enough to Shaya to do any damage. They don’t have the physical senses to beat us on our own territory.” Unaware of air currents and scents, humans gave themselves away the same as Psy.

  “I’m going to tell Tally you said that.” Clay smirked. “Your ass is toast.”

  “Nah.” Dorian grinned. “Shaya will protect me.”

  Everyone laughed and the discussion turned to other matters.

  “Aaron,” Lucas said to Dorian. “I’m taking your advice, shifting him out of Chinatown. We need a replacement.”

  “Mia.” Vaughn suggested. “She can fit in anywhere, and she looks about as threatening as a gnat.”

  “Fine,” Lucas agreed. “Mercy—how’s Cory?”

  “Good. I think it’s time he and Kit both got bumped up officially out of juvenile status.”

  “Nico, too,” Clay said. “The other kids still have some work to do.”

  Several minutes of discussion followed as they considered the pros and cons. With changelings, adulthood wasn’t a right. It was a privilege earned through hard work and maturity. With Kit carrying the scent of a future alpha, they had to be even more careful—young alphas could easily go off the rails.

  But this time, they were all in agreement. Kit, Cory, and Nico had grown up a lot in the past year. All three would now carry the rank of novice soldier. Being a soldier wasn’t about war. It was about protecting the pack. And about standing by your own.

  In blood… and in joy.

  CHAPTER 49

  Shoshanna stared at her husband, Henry, across the width of her desk. “Why did you do it? We decided to go with the majority.”

  “She was a threat.”

  “How?” She glanced at the clip playing on her computer screen. “It’s true Aleine’s actions will equal the probable end of Protocol I, but her death would’ve only made matters worse.” Shoshanna didn’t like being thwarted, but she was also a creature of cold intellect. “You almost turned her into a martyr.” Better that she was alive and digging her own grave. “It’s obvious from this clip that Aleine has broken Silence. Any threat of her becoming a rebel leader has decreased to negligible levels.”

  Henry remained unmoved. “I was unaware of that fact at the time.”

  “Even so,” she continued, “the assassination attempt has created a massive political quagmire.” She turned the computer screen toward him. “Bloody violence. And at the hands of a Psy who is obviously one of our elite operatives.” The Council’s rule was built on Silence. And that Silence was supposed to have ended violence among their race. “You’ve undermined—”

  “It was the correct choice at the time,” Henry interrupted. “We can’t keep allowing the changelings to get the better of us.”

  Normally, Shoshanna would have agreed. “Don’t you comprehend what you’ve done? We can’t kill her now. The instant anything happens to Aleine, it will confirm every one of her allegations and give the rebels all the ammunition they need.”

  “An unfortunate consequence.” Rising, he walked to the window. “However, she’s no longer on my list of priorities.”

  She didn’t understand his behavior. Henry measured as a powerful 9.5 on the Gradient, but he’d always been the beta partner in their relationship. She was the one who’d made all the critical decisions—such as having them both implanted with stolen copies of the prototype Aleine had developed in the course of her work on Protocol I. Until the implants had had to be removed, she and Henry had been one mind, and even there, she had ruled. “Explain your reasoning to me,” she persisted.

  He turned to meet her eyes. “Why?”

  “We’re a team, Henry.”

  “When it suits you, my dear wife.” A mockery of an endearment, completely devoid of emotion.

  Shoshanna stared at him, belatedly realizing that he hadn’t been acting like himself recently. “Your behavior isn’t conforming to your known psychological profile.”

  “Perhaps I’m exercising a previously dormant aspect of my personality.”

  She listened to the cadence of his voice, measuring the physical distribution of his weight at the same time. “You’re favoring your left side.” It was such a slight flaw that it would be unnoticeable to anyone who hadn’t known him as long as she had.

  “Are you saying I’m brain-damaged?”

  Her mind clicked. “We had our implants removed before they malfunctioned, but perhaps yours began to degrade while connected to your neural tissues.” She made a mental note to get her own brain rescanned for any signs of decay.

  “What won’t you do to hold on to power.” A statement, not a question. “The implant experience merely opened my eyes. I prefer being the puppet master, not the puppet.”

  “Henry, your brain is clearly malfunct—”

  “And even if it is,” he said slowly, “what will you do?”

  “I can have you committed to the Center.”

  “On what grounds? Will you tell them that we had our brains implanted with a stolen device, that we were planning to wrench away control of the Council by making the others our slaves?”

  Shoshanna had no answer to that because he was right—she wouldn’t give up everything she’d achieved just to turn him in. “You need to get medical assistance.”

  “No, Shoshanna, I don’t think so. And don’t try an assassination—I know all your tricks. I was connected to your mind, remember?” With that, he walked out of the room.

  I was connected to your mind, remember?

  Yes, he had been, but she’d been certain she was the controlling entity. Now, it appeared she’d made a gross miscalculation. Henry was a pure telepath—she had no way of knowing what he’d plucked from her brain, or embedded within it. As she had no way of knowing how much damage had been done to Henry’s neural tissues… or what he’d do now that he was operating free of any normal constraints.

  CHAPTER 50

  When you take Aleine, make sure you leave behind evidence that implicates the Council. With their blood riding high after the assassination attempt, the leopards won’t stop to question things. Play them.

  – Secure e-mail sent from unknown individual in Venice to unknown number of recipients in San Francisco

  Dorian had decided to keep being rational—hell, he wasn’t going to throw away the miracle of his mate and child—but his cat wouldn’t settle, even though it appeared that Ashaya was now untouchable as far as the Council was concerned. In fact, according to Anthony, the Council was actively protecting her, and had even reined in Pure Psy on the matter.

  The irony of it might’ve been rich had Dorian’s cat not been so aggravated at having been cheated of a target on which to vent its rage. Dorian had always known he was a little more leopard than other changelings in human form—his cat seeking to get out whatever way it could—but he’d expected the savage nature of his need to lessen after mating.

  It had only gotten worse—as if the cat knew it would never be stroked by its mate, never be admired as was its right, never even be seen by the woman who was everything to it. The leopard was dying a little each day and all that distressed anger was now being channeled into a pounding need to blame someone.

  His meeting with Anthony Kyriakus didn’t help matters. The rebel Councilor was blunt in his choice of words. “Ashaya needs to stay out of the limelight. Anything she
does from here on out would just put her in danger, while contributing nothing to the cause.”

  “Because she feels?” He barely kept his tone civil.

  “Yes.” Eyes of cool brown met his. “Silence is beginning to crumble at the edges, but the ones who’ve broken the chains make our imprisoned state far too obvious—people aren’t ready to see the truth, to go out into the unfamiliar darkness.”

  Dorian looked at Anthony, and wondered at the strength it took to play the double-edged game the other man had been playing for longer than any of them knew. “So, they’re all safe?”

  “Yes. Amara’s been written off—she was already unstable and if they get a chance to hit her, they will. But she’s not an active target.”

  “Keenan?”

  “Was only useful as a way to control Ashaya. He’s not a uniquely powerful Psy in his own right, and no one seems particularly concerned about what happened to him.”

  Dorian’s hackles lowered. “Thanks for the intel.”

  Anthony gave a slight nod. “If I ever find out who ordered the hit, I’ll tell you.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to tear his heart from his chest.” Even if it took years, Dorian would finish this. Patience was simply another side of stubborn, and Dorian had stubborn in spades.

  But now, as he stood outside the cabin while Ashaya and Keenan slept inside—Ashaya in his bed, Keenan up above in a hastily but carefully erected addition to his home—his cat was anything but patient. It wanted to make someone pay. For being trapped, for being unable to protect its mate, for being goddamn latent. Claws shoved inside his fingernails, cutting and tearing. But never coming out. It fucking hurt. Until the pain and the anger left him unable to think.