Caressed By Ice (Psy-Changeling #3)

Caressed By Ice (Psy-Changeling #3) Page 32

Judd looked at the DarkRiver alpha and understood that he'd made a promise to the deer to lessen their nightmares. It was how changeling society worked - the predators ran the show, but with it came responsibility. Unlike the Psy Council, the leopards and wolves took the safety and welfare of those under their leadership very seriously. Seriously enough to kill. Changeling justice, but as Lucas had pointed out, it would serve a dual purpose in this case.

And the Psy Council thought changelings stupid. That was their mistake.

Night had fallen during the meeting and it was well past dinner when they made it back to the den. He went with Brenna in spite of the increasing levels of dissonance - proximity in enclosed quarters would only worsen things. But the hunger in him, the raw painful thing that threatened to destroy him, wouldn't let him walk away.

"I'll throw something together in the kitchen," she said as they entered.

He remained in the living area, able to see her moving behind the kitchen counter. The second she turned her back, he took the chance to check the trap he'd placed on her door. Instinct and a need to protect had made him do it. There was something he wasn't seeing, some link his conscious mind hadn't yet forged, but his subconscious had, and it was adamant that she was in danger. Or maybe, he simply wanted her safe.

The trap itself wasn't psychic - he didn't have the ability to tie his power to an object in that fashion. Instead, he'd created it using basic Arrow tech. The device was embedded in her old-fashioned doorknob, and it read the prints of anyone who entered. If the prints didn't belong to Brenna, Andrew, Riley, Hawke, or Judd, the device was programmed to send out an alert to his phone. And as Brenna had discovered, he could go from place to place in the blink of an eye. Teleportation weakened him, but a Tk of his particular subdesignation needed very little power to cause catastrophic damage.

He sat back, satisfied the device was functioning.

"Food's ready." Brenna walked out and his eyes drifted to the thrust of her breasts under her thin sweater. "Warmed-up leftovers okay with you?"

The hunger he wanted fed had nothing to do with food. "Yes."

Her smile was bright. "You're easy to please. Good, because I'm exhausted."

He slammed up desperate psychic blocks against visions of her in bed, warm, naked, and his. "Let's make it a quick meal." They were midway through it when his phone flashed. He glanced at the incoming code but put it down without reading the message.

"Who was that?"

The huskiness in her voice was like sandpaper across his straining flesh. "No one important."

Curiosity lit up her eyes, but then she shrugged and went back to her dinner. He scrutinized her for several seconds, as he'd never known Brenna to just give up, but she seemed genuinely tired. That made things easier. There were aspects of his life she didn't need to know about - the Council wouldn't hesitate to torture her if they thought she had information they wanted.

Her exhaustion was proven by the huge yawn she gave as they were finishing up. "I'm sorry, but I'm beat. Mind if we cut this even shorter?"

It was exactly the out he needed. "Of course not."

Yet he stood outside her door for long minutes. He was no changeling, but he could smell the feminine heat of her scent, almost taste the lushness of her, his psychic senses multiplying and intensifying the impact of the physical. His fingers curled at the remembered sensation of her skin against his. The compulsion to open the door, walk back in, and take the fatal step into sexual contact was so strong, he had his hand raised when his phone flashed again.

It was a blunt reminder of who and what he was. He didn't care. He'd crossed too many lines with Brenna to go back now. But he was dangerous to her in his current state. So he answered the call. "I'm on my way." Only then did he return to his rooms, gather what he needed, and walk silent and unnoticed out of the den.

His vehicle - separate from those owned by the SnowDancers - was hidden near one of the rutted tracks leading out of wolf territory. When he reached it, he found it undisturbed and in perfect condition. The engine started with an almost soundless purr.

A second later, he thought he saw a shadow in the forest. He sent his Tp senses in an outward scan, aware that his body and mind were both functioning at less than optimal levels. Someone could have followed him in the wake of his distraction with Brenna. However, the scan touched nothing but the open minds of forest creatures. Satisfied, he maneuvered the vehicle through the thick darkness of a cloudy night and onto the track.

The telepathic "knock" came when he'd almost reached his destination. I'm here. He eased the car into a single-level street parking slot and got out. What's important enough to call a meeting in person?

I wanted to talk to both of you, and the comm channels aren't secure at present - I'm working on getting some new encryption software to block any covert monitoring, the Ghost responded. The Council's already begun eliminating the most vocal of the agitators.

Judd smelled the biting freshness of oncoming rain as he cut through a children's park. They knew the risk. Crossing the road, he walked around the church and into the unlit backyard, home to a small graveyard for those who had chosen to lie under the sun rather than be interred in the crypts.

Father Perez sat on the back steps of the church and Judd located the Ghost's dark shadow against a facing tree. "What did you find out?"

"I didn't see you arrive," the Ghost said. "Being out of the PsyNet hasn't had any appreciable impact on you and your abilities."

Wrong, but it was an untruth that had tactical value. "I have to get back." Distance was simply turning up the notch on his need to be with Brenna, to keep her safe. There was a threat to her. His brain was fixated on the idea. But what he didn't know was whether the threat came from the outside...or from his own killing abilities.

The Ghost took the hint. "This data hasn't been confirmed yet, but it appears Ashaya Aleine may be forced to start her work from scratch."

"Why? The lab had to have backup files hidden away," Perez said.

"The recent loss of several of their top scientists negates the value of any such backups - they alone knew what their notes meant. Unfortunately Aleine's too well protected."

Perez sighed. "I was hoping you hadn't taken that route." His voice held sorrow. "You kill too easily."

The Ghost shifted in the darkness. "If I hadn't removed the scientists from the equation, all our work would have meant nothing. They would've begun implanting test subjects within the year. In a decade, we would have become a single hive mind."

"Not single," Judd said. "Psy wouldn't all be equal under Protocol I. There will be puppets and puppet masters." As an Arrow programmed to kill, Judd knew the truth of what happened when some were given absolute control over others. Power was the most rapacious of drugs.

"And so we spill more blood?" Perez asked. "Is that right?"

"I have no right to judge anyone else, Father." No matter what the Ghost had done, Judd knew he'd done worse. "Tell me what else you have - quickly."

By the time Judd left, the chill winter rain was coming down in a steady beat. He let it fall on him, let it wash away the death-soaked taste of this latest meeting. The dehumanizing cruelty that was the Implant Protocol was evil, but in fighting it, Judd knew that they, too, could become evil. The understanding came from some buried part of him, a part inextricably linked to what he felt for Brenna.

The thought further heightened his urgency to return to her. Speeding up his pace, he breathed in the scent of ozone and city. The street was deserted, the glow of the laz-lamps muted by the rain. Walking across, he stepped into the darkness of the park. As a child, he'd never once played in a place like this. His training runs had been supervised, his exercises regimented. Shaping him. Making him.

Pushing aside the memories, he traversed the park with long steady strides, heading for the car he'd left on the other side. He could run the new data crystal the Ghost had passed him in the car's system, but preferred to wait and do it on his personal organizer, which was double-firewalled against interference.

Movement! The warning shot through his head before he consciously realized what he was seeing. He twisted his body to lessen the damage as the large wolf slammed him to the ground. Air smashed out of his lungs and he had barely enough time to get up his arm before the wolf's fangs snapped down, going through skin and muscle to hit bone.

Cauterizing the pain, he shoved with enough Tk that the wolf released him, giving him a chance to get back on his feet. His arm hung by his side, useless until he could knit the nerve and muscle together. Bleeding from the arm and from deep gashes in his chest, he arrowed his abilities and forced power into his right fist. When the wolf launched himself a second time, he smashed his fist into the animal's windpipe. It went down but only for a second before slamming into his chest and bringing him to the ground once again.

Wolf jaws neared, their lethal intent clear - to crush his neck.

Judd had been trying not to kill, certain this was a SnowDancer - and which one. He hadn't forgotten Riley's calculating calm at the meeting today. But now he had no choice. He was bleeding too badly. Gathering everything he had, he prepared to punch into the changeling's mind. The wolf would be dead in about one second flat.

Chapter 23

"Judd!" The scream was so unexpected, he froze. So did the wolf. A second later, it jumped off his body and streaked off into the darkness. He could have reached out and destroyed it at that distance, but he held back. If that wolf was one of Brenna's brothers...

"Judd." Hands cradled his face as he sat up. Trembling fingers wiped raindrops from his skin. "My God! Your arm is shredded!"

"Brenna, what are you doing here?" He was already sending power down his arm, starting to knit the bone - the capability to heal himself was an adjunct of his Tk-Cell abilities.

"I can't believe you're giving me shit when you're bleeding to death!" She grabbed his uninjured arm, slung it around her shoulders, and pulled him to his feet. She was slight, so even with her changeling strength, it took considerable effort.