Tangle of Need (37 page)

Indigo’s shoulder brushed her own as the lieutenant nodded. “Every wolf likes to feel appreciated. Hawke does it instinctively—you’ll have to do it more consciously, but in no way does that devalue the commitment you’d be making to know and understand the beating heart of the pack.”

Spoken, Sienna thought, like the protector Indigo was. They were
stronger, undeniably more lethal, but all dominants considered themselves in service to the vulnerable in the pack—because without those gentler packmates, there would be no one to protect, no reason for them to exist … no sense of a home colored in affection and warmth. It had taken her years of living with SnowDancer to understand such subtleties. “I think it would be a good idea to start with a dominant maternal female, don’t you?” They wielded as much power as the lieutenants, simply in a different sphere.

Indigo’s glance held open approval and a pride that made Sienna feel as if she’d been given the most lavish praise. “Yes. I think if you ask Lara, she’ll set it up with Ava.”

The tension Sienna hadn’t been aware of feeling until that moment leaked out of her, her shoulders relaxing. She’d met Ava any number of times. Her son, Ben, was one of Marlee’s friends, though the two had recently fallen out—and neither would say what the problem was. “I will.” Drawing in long breaths of the crisp, clean air, she watched a pup in wolf form help his friend complete a sand castle, patting the sand into place with baby paws. “It feels like I’m building the foundations for the rest of my life.”

“Do you mind that?”

“I’m so happy, sometimes I think I’ll burst.” The depth of her joy scared her on occasion. Never had she imagined she’d have a future, a
life
, beyond the fury of the X-marker. Now that she did … “I’m going to build a foundation so strong, so solid, it won’t ever shake, no matter what the future brings.” No one, not even Ming LeBon, was going to stop her living her life.

RIAZ
and Adria joined Judd for the trip back to the den that night. The automated water bus from Venice to the mainland was empty, no chance of being overheard, so they spoke in quiet voices, the wind brisk against their cheeks.

“Do you think anyone will want to take the risk?” Adria asked, worry and empathy battling for space within her. Sam, strong, loyal, courageous, was both a dominant and human. It would devastate him if he fell
victim to a Psy mental violation, the act a savage blow to the heart of his nature. “I can see why they would.”

Bracing his forearms on his thighs, Riaz said, “I have to admit, I never really considered just how vulnerable humans must feel,” a troubled expression marking the strong lines of his features.

“Yes,” Judd said from her right.

It hadn’t escaped her notice that the two had sandwiched her between them the entire time they’d been together. Her wolf was irritated, its hackles raised. She wasn’t a pup to be protected, but a senior soldier, well able to get herself out of trouble. “Do you think Hawke will want the information circulated throughout the pack?” she asked, fighting the urge to snarl. It would be like trying to explain trigonometry to someone who’d never seen a math book. The words just would not compute in their testosterone-laden male brains.

“No.” Riaz’s answer was decisive, the dark masculinity of his scent twining around her in invisible threads. “Not until Ashaya’s done exhaustive tests to confirm the chip is safe.”

“It could be said”—Judd’s calm voice—“that the humans in the pack should be given the information and allowed to make up their own minds.”

Riaz glanced at the Psy male. “You know a pack doesn’t work like that. It can’t.”

“Yes.” Judd echoed Riaz’s position, the wind rifling through the dirty blond of his hair. “Hawke is responsible for the health of the pack as a whole, and sometimes that means making hard calls when it comes to individual choice.”

“Yes,” Riaz answered. “If our human packmates decided to do this, and the chips failed, their deaths would rip the heart right out of SnowDancer. The gain is not worth the risk, not yet.”

Riaz’s statement echoed inside Adria.

She thought of the risk she was taking, with this passionate, loyal lone wolf who might never fully belong to her, knew she might just be setting herself up for the hardest fall of all. But, as she’d told Riaz, she wasn’t exactly undamaged goods. And … she didn’t ever want to look back and regret what could’ve been.

Life might hurt, might bruise, might forever scar, but it was for living.

“If you think about it,” Judd said as the fierce thought passed through her mind, “the PsyNet is structured more like a pack than anything else, with the Council in place of an alpha.”

Adria shook her head, her wolf rejecting the idea. “There’s a big difference—Hawke’s every decision, whether or not it’s democratic, is for the good of the pack, while the Councilors have a way of using up their people until there’s nothing left.” It angered her to the core that it was the ones who were meant to protect, who were doing the most harm.

“This generation, yes.” Judd’s agreement was solemn. “But Councils pre-Silence
were
focused on the strength and health of the race as a whole. Ironically, it’s that desire that led to Silence, but I think the seeds of hope are there, buried in the darkness.”

As Riaz responded to Judd, the low rumble of his voice raising the hairs on her arms, she found herself thinking that Riaz was, in many ways, more similar to Judd than he was to another wolf. It would take him time to trust a woman enough to fully open up to her, but once he did, he would be devoted.

Adria didn’t expect such devotion … wasn’t sure she could handle it if it happened, her wolf panicked at the idea of the possessiveness that would be part and parcel of that kind of love. It made her wonder how Brenna handled it with Judd—the other woman wasn’t a dominant, and had been terribly wounded when she and Judd had first gotten together.

But that wasn’t the only thing she wondered. “Do you ever regret being mated?” she asked Judd after they’d made their way from the water bus to the airport and grabbed seats in the gate lounge. Even as she spoke, her eyes followed Riaz’s muscled form as he walked over to the coffee stand to grab them drinks, his hair glinting with hidden highlights of copper and bronze.

Judd gave her an unreadable glance. “An unusual question from a wolf.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier,” she clarified, “to do the work that you do, to walk into danger, if you didn’t have a mate whose heart would break if you were hurt?”

Judd took his time answering, his gaze on the wide concourse and the
people walking and running to catch their airjets. “It would be more … convenient,” he said at last. “But it wouldn’t be easier—Silence is based on the precept that emotion is a weakness, but what I feel for Brenna makes me stronger. I fight harder, dirtier, and rougher,
because
I know any injury to me will rebound on her.”

“Sounds like a serious discussion,” Riaz said, handing Judd the bottle of water he’d requested, before passing over Adria’s hot chocolate. “With marshmallows.” A smile that creased his cheeks, made his eyes flicker gold, wild and compelling.

Her wolf awakened at the sight of his own, the happy memories of lying beside him on the bed in their hotel room making it rub up against her skin in primal affection. It was all she could do not to nuzzle her face into his neck. “I can tell you’re drinking your usual sludge.” The scent of his coffee was rich, potent.

“It’ll put hair on my chest.” Lips still curved, he settled into his seat, draping his arm along the back of hers. “So”—his thigh pressing against her own as he pushed into her space in a very male way—“what are you two discussing?”

“Whether emotion makes us stronger or weaker,” Adria said before Judd could mention mating, her heart twisting at the idea of stealing the smile from Riaz’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Taking a gulp of his no-doubt scalding coffee, Riaz said, “I’d say it’s what makes us human in the wider sense. Without it, we might as well be machines.”

“Regardless of their problems,” Judd disagreed at once, “the Psy in the Net aren’t inhuman.”

“Because in some deep part of themselves,” Riaz argued, “they
do
feel.”

“Yes.” It was an unexpected response from a man Adria guessed had gone through the most stringent conditioning in the Net. “Silence was never as watertight as the Council’s propaganda machine would’ve led us to believe.” He nodded toward a mother and child walking down the concourse, the child’s hand held tightly in the adult’s.

It was clear by the cool lack of expression on their faces, the subtle stiffness of the woman’s walk, that they were Psy. “A Councilor would say
she holds the girl’s hand because it’s a practical method to ensure her genetic legacy is not lost or harmed.”

At that very second, Adria saw the woman shift to block a suitcase from banging into the child, taking the bump herself. “Perhaps it’s even what she believes,” Adria murmured, “but there’s more there.” A protectiveness that had the woman tucking the child closer to her body, her hand cupping the back of the small blonde head.

“Not for all Psy.” Judd stared at a luggage cart about to roll away from an elderly woman, and it came to a gentle, seemingly natural stop. “It’s too late for some, the damage done by the conditioning too deep.”

“Airjet Express BD21 to San Francisco now boarding.”

Finishing off her hot chocolate, Adria gathered up the rest of their garbage and took it to the recycle slot. Riaz and Judd were up and waiting for her when she returned, with Riaz having slung her duffel over his shoulder, along with his own. She had no problem with that. But when the two of them went to fall in on either side of her, she halted. “I do not need bodyguards.”

A confused look from both.

Her wolf flashed its canines. “I
knew
it wouldn’t compute.”

Chapter 45

RIAZ SEPARATED FROM
Adria when they reached the den late afternoon San Francisco time. Showering, he pulled on his most well-worn jeans, the fabric soft from repeated washing, and a T-shirt, then made his way to her door. Her scent was damp and warm when she opened it, her hair sleek and shiny from her own shower, her body covered in soft gray pajama pants and a faded purple tee bearing the picture of a depressed cartoon donkey.

A raised eyebrow. “Yes?”

His wolf narrowed its eyes at her continued irritability. Neither he nor Judd had been able to figure out what had put her back up before they boarded the airjet. He’d let her stew in silence during the trip, but now stepped into her space and nipped sharply at her lower lip. “Why are you acting snippy?” He kicked the door shut with his foot.

Glaring at him, she rubbed at the lip he’d bitten. “I just am. Get over it.” She walked over to flop down on her back on the bed. “And go away so I can sulk in peace.”

He fought his smile. Letting it out would be suicidal with a dominant female in this mood. “I have something for you.” He held up the small bag he’d carried over.

A startled light in the brilliant hue of her eyes. “You got me a present?” She scrambled up onto her knees, holding out her hands. “Give!”

He walked across to sit on the bed. “I don’t know if I should give it to someone so bad tempered.” Playful as a pup, his wolf grinned.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders from behind, she closed her teeth gently over the tip of his ear. “I bite, so be careful.”

“So do I.” He snapped his teeth at her.

A delighted laugh, her claws kneading his shoulders. When she shifted around to sit cross-legged beside him, he put the bag in her lap. The wonder on her face as she took out and opened the velvet-lined box was worth all the trickery it had taken to buy, then hide the gift from her. He owed Pierce one.

“Oh.”
She balanced the glass figurine on her palm—of a wolf with its eyes closed, its tail curled around itself. “The detail…” Gesturing for him to hold it, she retrieved the three other figurines with gentle fingers. They were even smaller—pups frolicking around the sleeping guardian: one growling at a wildflower, another eye to eye with a crow, the third crouched down in a sneaking position.

Closing the box, she arranged all four on the lid, placing the sneaking pup behind the adult wolf. As if the pup was planning to pounce on the guardian’s tail. He chuckled. “I remember trying to do that to Dad.”

Adria didn’t answer, simply looked at the tableau, stroking a finger over one of the figurines once in a while. “This isn’t fair.” It was a whisper, her eyes gone huge and damp.

He’d bought the mischievous set for her because he’d thought it would make her smile … and he loved the way Adria smiled when she was deeply happy. He’d glimpsed that smile only once, when she’d first looked up from the sheets the morning after they’d danced on the balcony, had come to realize he wanted to see it again and again. But instead of joy, his gift had put tears in her eyes.

Cupping her jaw, he rubbed his thumb over the elegant arch of her cheekbone. “Hey.”

She shook her head, pulled away. He didn’t like that, but he let her get up off the bed and place the figurines carefully on the small vanity tucked into a corner. When she returned to straddle him in a single smooth motion, his body responded like a match to a flame, the sexual connection between them white lightning. Her lips were soft and wet as they seduced his, the taste of her an addiction that fought to steal his senses.

Not right
, his wolf growled,
this isn’t right.

“Adria.” Chest heaving, he wrenched her away with a hand fisted in her hair.

In response, she dug her claws into his shoulders and pushed, her eyes a pale, dangerous amber. It would’ve taken him to the bed if he hadn’t been ready for it. Blood scented the air, sharp and metallic. Snarling, he ripped her hands off him, braceleting and pinning her wrists behind her back with one hand. It didn’t induce her to desist. Thighs locked around him, she angled her head with predatory focus.

He gripped her jaw when she would’ve snapped forward to sink her teeth into his neck, squeezed.
“Behave.”
This was a challenge, and he had to win it, or they’d never move past this moment.