The Psy-Changeling Collection (147 page)
Talin shifted until she could look up at him. “I’m okay.”
“You almost died.”
Her fingers trailed over his unshaven jaw. “I knew you’d pull me out.”
“You
can’t
die.” It was an order.
She blinked those big gray eyes, the ring of fire sparking. “I’ll try my best.”
He knew he was being unreasonable, but the leopard had taken charge and it didn’t care about logic or reason. All the animal wanted was to know that she was alive, on a level that nothing could erase. “I’m going to break my promise.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t ask which one. Instead, she tilted her face for him and when he flicked his tongue across the seam of her lips, she opened, warm and giving and his. Undeniably, irrevocably his. No matter what she thought or how she’d run from him, Talin had always been, and always would be, his. He let her feel his certainty in the sweep of his tongue against hers, in the way he held her anchored to him, in the confidence with which he took everything she had and demanded more.
Talin felt a new kind of breathlessness crash into her as Clay claimed her mouth in what she recognized as a blatant stamp of ownership. It was a kiss she would have never allowed any other man. This kiss wasn’t about the body. It was
about the soul. He was stripping her bare, shattering her defenses, breaking her heart. “Clay.” A plea, a reminder that she couldn’t keep the promises he was asking her to make. The insidious disease eating away at her brain was beyond her ability to control.
He bit at her lower lip in response, and when she made a complaining sound, he did it again. Hungry feminine arrogance shot through her, wiping away all thoughts of the uncertain future. She bit back. He seemed startled, his reaction—a watchful stillness—very feline. Smiling into the kiss, she nibbled on him before opening her mouth and tangling her tongue with his in a duel she intended to win.
That was before Clay moved those big, warm hands up over her body, spreading one on her lower back while the other curved around her nape. The hold was so proprietary, so aggressive, it should’ve scared her into running in the other direction. Instead it sparked a darkly sexual heat in her, stoking her need past blazing. She melted into him, pressing her aching breasts against the solid wall of his chest.
He purred into her mouth.
Nipples shocked into sudden pleasure by the vibration, she pulled back. “You purr?”
His smile was pure cat. “Only for you.”
Any resistance she might’ve harbored to this dangerous, inevitable escalation in their relationship dissolved into a big fat pool at her feet. He was being charming. Clay did not do charm, not for anyone. Except, it seemed, her. She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Stop being so sexy.”
His smile widened and, sliding his hand from her nape to her hair, he tugged back her head so he could kiss her again. The embers in her stomach burst into flame as she realized she was rubbing her nipples against him. He didn’t seem to mind—he was doing that purring thing again. His hand dropped down to cup her bottom and she was startled to find she’d shifted position so she straddled him. As he resettled her, she bit back a whimper. The hard ridge of his erection now pressed right into the wet heat between her thighs.
Breaking the kiss, lips wet, breath jagged, she lifted a hand and traced the shape of his mouth with a finger. “You’re rushing me.”
“I’m not a patient man,” was his unrepentant answer as she trailed her finger down his jaw and along his throat. “You
feel
when we touch, baby,” he said, wiping away one of her deepest fears. “This will be damn good. I can smell you, so hot and wet, so ready.” He bit her ear. “Let me make you come. I’ll be good—I won’t lick … much.”
The playful request made her thighs clench, her breasts swell.
“Clay.”
She nuzzled at his throat, tasted the exquisitely male scent of him. “What if we do this and then … then things don’t work out?”
“They will.”
“But what if they don’t?” she asked, refusing to let his stubbornness dictate this. He hadn’t brought up her promiscuous past since that explosive argument in the Tank, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten it. Clay was simply too possessive to accept what he viewed as a betrayal. She saw that knowledge in his eyes every time he looked at her. “I can’t lose your friendship.” It was the only thing standing between her and a desolation so great, she knew she wouldn’t survive. Not this time.
“Tally, you tried to run from me and look where you ended up.” He bit down on her lip again, released it, licked at the sensual hurt. “I’ll always be there if you need me.”
That didn’t answer her question, but before she could say anything, he closed his hand over her breast. “Clay!” It was a half-shocked, half-exhilarated shout.
He held her in place with the arm he had around her waist as he bent to watch his fingers move on her thinly covered flesh. “Take off your top.”
She was having real trouble thinking. “No. Slow down.”
His answer was to press a kiss to the hollow at the bottom of her neck. Then he licked at that spot, shooting arrows of sensation straight through to the need between her thighs. As if that wasn’t enough, he kept massaging her breast with firm, masculine approval. She didn’t need his rough, “Mine,” to understand the possession in his touch.
Her body shuddered under the impact of what he was making her feel, the sensations crashing endlessly in her mind. Driven to the edge, she put her hand over his. “I’m not ready.” Pleasure wasn’t enough, not when he kept a part of himself
shut off from her. “I’m sorry.” For the past she’d put between them. For the future she couldn’t promise
He kissed his way up her neck. “Don’t be.” He took her lips again before she could be certain what he was referring to. “I’m only playing. Tamsyn’s on her way over.”
She was too delighted by the boyish mischief in those green eyes to get mad at the way he’d been leading her on. “Kiss me one more time, then.”
Make me forget the disease killing me from the inside out. But most of all, make me forget that you don’t trust me anymore
.
The first day
Ashaya came up from the underground lab and into the light, she was stopped as she exited the elevator hidden within the old farmhouse.
“Ma’am, you don’t have the authorization to be outside.” The security officer wore the standard black uniform of Security but with Ming’s emblem on one shoulder—two snakes locked in combat.
“No,” she agreed. “But, on the other hand, unless I attempt an escape, you have no authority to take any action against my person. I need to think and I do it better outside.”
“Surveillance—”
“—has been blocked from the sky, all but our own satellites nudged in other directions. And there is no one out here to see me.” Just corn, endless rows of spring-green corn. “You can accompany me.”
A military nod. “After you.”
She was under no illusion that she’d won the battle. He was simply buying time while telepathing Ming for further instructions. The expected mental touch came mere seconds after she stepped onto the deceptively decrepit-looking porch.
Councilor
, she said.
Ashaya, you’re disobeying a direct order
. Ming’s mental voice came through with crystal clarity. Either he was still in the country or his telepathic powers were stronger than she’d previously believed.
You should have known the rules would never hold
. She walked down the steps and into the rows of corn, conscious of the guard shadowing her every move.
I have a psychological flaw that has never been subject to rehabilitation
. Because she was too valuable an asset to chance to the sometimes fatal side effects. However, that shield wouldn’t last forever.
Your tendency toward claustrophobia was taken into account when designing the lab. It’s wide open
.
And underground
. She had been buried underground once. It had left a permanent mark.
The flaw is not debilitating in any sense
, she said, knowing she had to be careful,
but it does make clear thinking difficult after an extended period of time below
.
Then it’s our design that is flawed
, he accepted with cool Psy logic.
The psych consult was of the opinion that your abilities would remain unaffected by the location given the layout and your mental strength
.
The consult was correct
—
my abilities have not been adversely affected
. Conceding weakness would get her killed.
It’s more a case of efficiency. All I need is an hour or two upside on a regular basis to maintain peak productivity
.
Ming paused as if thinking.
There’s no security risk. I’ll allow it
.
Thank you. I would also prefer that the guard not follow me. His presence is distracting. I do a considerable amount of my work in my head
. That much was true and would be borne out by the records Ming was undoubtedly accessing as they talked.
Another small pause.
Agreed. We have the whole area secured
.
The most subtle of threats.
Excellent
.
Be careful, Ashaya. So much hinges on your work
.
It was a hidden reference to Keenan. But it wasn’t an emotional threat—nothing so easy as that. Maternal love was for humans and changelings. Other things drove Ashaya. Ming knew that far too well.
But she was outside now. One minute step at a time. She was an M-Psy with the capacity to sequence DNA inside her mind. Patience was her strong suit.
Deep in the
PsyNet, the psychic network that connected millions of Psy across the globe, the Ghost came across a piece of information that made little sense—whispers about the kidnapping of human children. Nothing said in the PsyNet ever left it, but the fact that this whisper hadn’t yet fragmented and begun to be absorbed into the fabric of the Net meant it was recent. That knowledge gave him pause.
He was a renegade, determined to oust the Psy Council from power and free his people from a Silence that was false. He had killed in the name of that freedom, would do so many more times before this was all over. But he was still Psy. He felt nothing, not love, not care, not hate. Nothing.
So when he considered this unexpected speck of data, it was with the ice-cold mind of a man reared on logic and reason alone. Touch was something he barely understood, affection nothing he had ever known. In the end, it was the very lack of reason in what he’d found that decided him.
He filed away the discovery, to be passed on to the sole human he trusted. Father Xavier Perez might be a man of God, but he was also a soldier. And for reasons of his own, he was the Ghost’s ally in the fight to stop Ashaya Aleine and the Council from bringing Protocol I into force.
Decision made, the Ghost banished the kidnappings from his mind, his focus on something far bigger, something that had the potential to disrupt the entire PsyNet—the assassination of a Councilor.
Tamsyn put away
the last of her instruments and leaned back in the chair beside Talin. Both Clay and Nate—talking quietly out of earshot—moved closer.
“I can’t find anything wrong with you.” Tamsyn thrust a hand through her hair. “The allergy tests are all negative and I have the best damn equipment on the market.”
“You can tell immediately?”
“Yes. Which leaves two possibilities. One, whatever you’re allergic to is so rare as to not be in the computer’s analysis program—”
Talin shook her head, sighing in relief when Clay’s hand landed on her shoulder. It felt so right, so what she needed. “I can’t think of anything—”
“What about a forest organism?” Clay interrupted. “It’s a new environment as far as Tally’s body is concerned.”
Tamsyn was the one who shook her head this time. “It should’ve still come up as an unknown. That’s the problem—I’m picking up
nothing
.”
“What’s the second possibility?” Talin asked.
“That it wasn’t an allergic reaction at all. We just got lucky with the epi.” Tamsyn frowned. “How are you feeling now?”
“Fine.”
“No heart palpitations, nausea, anything out of the ordinary?”
Talin’s heart was certainly racing, but it had nothing to do with the medication and everything to do with the man who was playing his fingertips along her collarbone. She wondered if the cat considered that as behaving. “No. No side effects.”
The healer blew out a frustrated breath. “I can’t make heads or tails of your condition. I agree with Clay—you need to go to an M-Psy for a scan. Problem is, we don’t have one we trust yet, though we’ve been putting out feelers ever since Sascha and Faith joined the pack.”
“I’m okay for now.” Talin didn’t want to die. But neither could she live with herself if she put her life before Jon’s. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared, wasn’t angry. “We’ll deal with my problems after we’ve found Jon.”
Clay didn’t say anything, but she could feel the wild energy of his leopard racing over her skin. He was furious with her.
Two hours later,
Talin walked into a small meeting room located in DarkRiver’s business HQ, viscerally aware of the storm building inside Clay. He set her up in the room with the files Dev had had delivered and said, “I have to go check on some things. If you need anything, ask Ria. She’s Lucas’s assistant.” He showed her the key to press on the comm panel. “You oriented?”
She nodded. “I remember everything. Did you forget?”
Instead of laughing at the small joke, he turned to leave the room. Disappointment bloomed on her tongue and she decided if he could brood, she could pout. “Hey!”
He turned in a smooth, sensually feline move and bent down to press a hard, possessive kiss on her lips. “Don’t be a brat while I’m gone.”
She raised her fingers to her lips as he left, wanting to smile—he might have gone dark and silent on her but he hadn’t left without a kiss. Hope struggled to defiant life in her heart. Yes, the possessive leopard in Clay remained wary of her. And yes, she admitted with brutal honesty, part of her kept waiting for him to leave her again.