Slave to Sensation (6 page)

“But did you like it?” Tamsyn asked.

Before she could answer, Lucas did. “The Psy don't like or dislike, do they, Sascha?”

“No.” Not if they were normal. She wondered if anyone would notice if she took one more cookie. “Something is either useful or it isn't. Liking doesn't come into it.”

“Here.” Lucas lifted another cookie to her lips. “Maybe chocolate will change your mind.” Temptation lingered in the playful curve of his lips.

Sascha wasn't strong enough to resist. “Since we haven't yet had lunch, this'll provide needed calories.”

“Lucas! You worked through lunch again? Both of you, sit!” Tamsyn pointed to the table. “Nobody walks out of my kitchen hungry.”

Sascha was confused by the hierarchy in the room. “I thought Lucas was your alpha.”

Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, but this is Tamsyn's kitchen. We might as well sit before she throws a pot at us.” He headed over to the table. “Tammy, I confess. I came here so you'd feed me. Nobody cooks like you.”

“Cut the sweet talk, Lucas Hunter.” In spite of the sharp words, the brunette was smiling.

Sascha tried to finish her cookie in sedate bites instead of inhaling it. She was going to have to smuggle some chocolate into her quarters. For the first time, she'd found something relatively safe with which to indulge her senses. One more sin would make no difference to a life she'd lived in secret since before she could remember.

They'd just taken their seats when two small leopard cubs barreled into the room. Eyes wide, Sascha watched the pair slide across the shiny wood of the floor before being caught on the rug. Several long, thin scratches marked their passage.

“Roman! Julian!” Tamsyn walked out from behind the counter and picked up both cubs by the scruff of their necks. “What do you think you're doing?” Two sheepish leopard faces turned to look at her. Sascha was riveted by the kittenish mewls coming from their throats.

Tamsyn laughed. “You two charmers. You know you're not supposed to run in the house. I've already lost two vases this week.”

The cubs wiggled.

“Here.” Tamsyn walked over and dumped them on the table. “Explain yourselves to your uncle Lucas.”

The cubs put their heads down on their paws and looked up at Lucas as if awaiting judgment. Sascha wanted nothing more than to stroke her fingers through the silky-soft pelt of the one nearest her. They were so beautiful, their eyes a lively green-gold that had her spellbound.

She almost jumped out of her chair when Lucas growled beside her, a low rumble that came from a human throat but sounded completely feral. The cubs sprang up and growled back. Lucas laughed. “Scary, aren't they?” His eyes invited her to join in the fun.

She couldn't resist. “Fierce.”

One of the cubs suddenly skidded to stand in front of her, so close they were almost nose to nose. Sascha stared in fascination at those eyes. Then he opened his mouth and growled a baby growl at her. Laughter bubbled in her throat. How could anyone remain unmoved around such mischief? But she was Psy and she wasn't allowed to laugh. Yet there was no way she wasn't going to indulge at least one more sense. She might never get this chance again.

Reaching out, she mimicked Tamsyn's hold and lifted the cub up by the ruff of his neck. His fur was soft, his body warm. He wiggled and growled, batting at her hands with sheathed claws, and she realized he was playing with her. At that moment, the other cub jumped to land on her lap and began to climb up her body.

Lost, she turned to Lucas. His amusement was obvious. “Don't look at me, darling.”

She narrowed her eyes at her two little playmates. “I'm Psy. I can turn you into rats.” The cubs stopped wiggling. Picking up the one in her lap, she put them both on the table in front of her and leaned down to their level. “Be very careful of people like me.” It was a soft, sincere warning. “We don't know how to play nice.”

Scooting forward on little baby paws, one of the cubs licked the tip of her nose in a quick movement. She was so startled that she blurted out, “What does that mean?”

“It means he likes you.” Lucas tugged at her plait. “But that doesn't matter to you, does it?”

“No.” She wished he'd stop touching her. Not because she didn't like it but because she liked it far too much. It made her hunger for things that could never be hers. And if someone went hungry for too long, they started to starve. Started to hurt.

“Gotcha!”
Tamsyn reached out and scooped up the cubs in her arms. They turned to nip playfully at her skin. “I love you, too, babies. But Uncle Lucas and your new friend have to eat so you have to stay on the floor.” She put them down after a cuddle.

The cubs scooted under the table, one of them curling himself up on Sascha's leather-synth boots. The heavy warmth brought tears to her eyes. In an effort to hide her reaction, she looked down at the table and focused on the way Lucas continued to hold her plait.

He was sliding his fingers up and down, as though he liked the feel of the strands against his fingertips. The smooth, repetitive motion was oddly arousing—would he stroke other body parts with such exquisite care?

Her thoughts could get her interned at the Center but she didn't care. She'd experienced more sensations in the space of the last few hours than she had in the rest of her lifetime combined. It terrified her and yet she knew she'd be back tomorrow. She'd be back until someone found out. And then she'd fight to the death. She would not be rehabilitated, would not allow her mind to be turned into a mockery of who she was.

“Here you go.” Tamsyn laid plates in front of them. “Nothing special but it'll keep you going.”

Sascha looked at her plate. “Pita pockets.” She knew the names of many things. Like most, she used mental exercises to keep herself strong. One exercise involved memorizing items—it had been one of her guilty pleasures to choose lists that spoke to her senses. Food was one. Her other favorite list had been compiled by the computer from an ancient book of sexual positions.

“It's my special ‘Hot Lips' type.” Tamsyn winked. “A little chili never hurt anybody.”

Lucas tugged on the plait he had yet to release.

“Yes?” What would he do if she threw caution to the winds and started touching him in return? Male that he was, he'd probably ask for more.

“It might hurt if you're not used to it.”

Stubbornness had always been her Achilles' heal. “I'll survive. Thank you, Tamsyn.”

“You're welcome.” The other woman pulled up a chair. “Eat!”

Sascha picked up her pita pocket and took a bite. It nearly took off her skull. However, thanks to her training, nobody looking at her would've guessed at her discomfort. Lucas had finally stopped playing with her hair and was demolishing his own meal in short order.

“So,” Tamsyn asked, “could you really turn my cubs into rats?”

Sascha thought Tamsyn was being serious until she caught the twinkle in those caramel-colored eyes. “I could've made them think they were rats.”

“Really?” The brunette leaned forward. “I thought Psy found changeling minds too hard to work with.”

Too hard to manipulate was the right statement. “Your thought patterns are so unusual that yes, they're difficult to work with. Difficult, not impossible. But the amount of energy required to control you generally isn't worth the outcome.” At least that was what she'd heard, having never been in a situation where she was trying to handle a changeling mind.

“Good thing we're so hard to take under or the Psy would be ruling the planet.” Lucas's tone was lazily satisfied as he leaned back, one arm stretched over the back of her chair. Territorial didn't begin to describe him.

“We do rule the world.”

“You might be high up in politics and business but that's not the world.”

She took another bite of the pita, having discovered she quite liked the feeling of having her head taken off. “No,” she agreed after swallowing.

At the same moment, she became aware of baby leopard teeth nibbling at the toe of her boot.

Sascha knew she should reach down and dislodge the cub but she didn't want to. Drowning in sensation was far preferable to being conditioned to numbness. A discreet chime interrupted her in midthought.

It took a second for her to realize it was her organizer. Reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket, she checked the caller ID and then linked to the other Psy, who was close enough for simple telepathic contact.

“Aren't you going to answer it?” Tamsyn asked when she put the slim electronic tablet back into her pocket.

“I am answering it.” Answering in such a way took less than 10 percent of her concentration. If she'd been a true cardinal, it would've taken less than a tenth of a percent.

“I don't get it.” Tamsyn frowned. “If you can communicate mentally anyway, why the actual call in the first place?”

“Boundaries.” She finished her meal. “It's like knocking before you enter a house. Only certain people have the right to initiate mental contact with me.” People like her mother and the Council.

Lucas touched her shoulder with the fingers of the hand he had across the back of her chair. “I thought the PsyNet meant you were all in constant contact.”

The PsyNet wasn't a secret but neither was it to be talked about in detail. She'd failed part of her conditioning but this had held. Her mouth opened and she said, “Perhaps we should be leaving for our meeting.”

She felt his entire body go so motionless, it was like he'd turned into the lethal beast he carried within. Lucas Hunter wasn't used to being told no. “Of course.”

She should've feared this side of his nature, but found herself fascinated. “Thank you for lunch,” she said to Tamsyn, wriggling her foot so the cub would let go. She didn't want to hurt him or get him in trouble. He clung.

Lucas pushed back his chair and stood. “Tell Nate I dropped by.”

Tamsyn began to stand. Aware that she couldn't remain sitting, Sascha decided to take a risk. Sending out a narrow telepathic beam, she
spoke
to the cub.
Let go, baby, or you'll get in trouble
. She'd expected to have difficulty contacting him but the link was made in an instant, as if she were talking to a child Psy. The find was something she should've immediately fed into the PsyNet but she didn't. It felt like betrayal.

The cub—Julian—couldn't answer, but he let go. He was pleased she hadn't told on him because he wasn't supposed to be chewing on shoes anymore. He was a big boy. Trying not to smile, she rose to her feet. It was difficult to keep her boot out of sight as she walked to the door but she maneuvered so that Lucas's big frame was between her and Tamsyn.

“Drop by anytime,” Tamsyn said. Putting her hands on Sascha's arms, the other woman kissed her cheek.

Sascha had frozen the instant Tamsyn touched her, feeling such overwhelming kindness from the brunette that she could do nothing else. She'd always imagined she could read the emotions of others but her delusions had never been this bad—there was simply no raw material in the Psy world to feed the fantasies of her fractured mind.

“Thank you.” The second Tamsyn let go, she stepped back and walked out the door to the waiting vehicle. It was too difficult to be in that room full of laughter and touch, warmth and temptation, and not hunger for more . . . for everything.

 

 

“Oh dear,” Tamsyn said, watching Sascha retreat. “I shouldn't have touched her.”

Lucas hugged her to him. “Of course you should have. Just because she's Psy doesn't mean we are.”

Tamsyn laughed. “Did you see her boot?”

“Yes.” Lucas was the alpha of DarkRiver—he'd known exactly what was going on with Julian. What he couldn't understand was why Sascha had let it happen. And there had been that moment when Psy energy had flared extra bright. Perhaps her telepathic call had gotten heated, or perhaps she'd been doing something else. Like talking to a cub.

“I never expected a Psy to be so good with children.” Tamsyn laid her head against his chest.

“Neither did I.” Quite simply, she shouldn't have been.

The Psy would never allow a child to nibble on their shoes. There was no reason behind it, no efficiency. Yet this Psy had. “Tell me if the cubs say anything interesting.”

The healer of DarkRiver was no fool. “Still nothing?”

“Not yet.” Dropping a kiss on her hair, he said good-bye and headed out.

Sascha was already in the vehicle when he took the driver's seat. “Your first time with changeling children?”

“Yes.” She tucked the chewed toe behind her leg and right then and there, Lucas knew he was in trouble. “Are you always in animal form as children?”

“No.” Backing slowly out of Tamsyn's long driveway, he turned onto the street, the passage of air smooth and swift under the vehicle. “We gain the ability to shift forms a year or so after birth. It's as simple as breathing to us.”

She was silent for the next stretch of road, as if thinking over what he'd said. “What about clothing? What happens to it when you change?”

“It disintegrates. We prefer to change while naked.” He paid close attention to the energy in the air as he spoke and detected a definite spike—Sascha Duncan reacted to the thought of him naked.

Both sides of his nature liked the idea of disturbing this intriguing female on a sensual level, but as alpha, he had to consider the deeper ramifications of what he'd learned . . . and how it could be used against her.