The Psy-Changeling Series, Books 6-10 (135 page)

“Mercy,” Andrew began.

“No, no, I’m not going to meddle. But I am going to give you a little advice in return for something important you said to me once, so listen up.”

Not having been born stupid, no matter his recent actions, Andrew did just that.

“Don’t be anyone but who you are,” the leopard sentinel told him. “It’ll give you the element of surprise when you pounce.”

On the surface, it was a lighthearted comment, but Andrew saw it for the truth it was. How had Mercy known? he thought. How had she guessed that his confidence had been badly dented by the knowledge that he was so much not what Indigo had in mind for her mate? However she’d known, he was grateful for the boost. “Thanks, Mercy.”

“What can I say—you remind me of the fiends I call brothers.” An affectionate comment. “’Bye, Drew.”

Hanging up after replying in kind, he took a deep breath and fired off a quick e-mail to Hawke with his notes on what Teijan had shared. And though the temptation to track down Indigo was a fever in his gut, he set his jaw and went to the weight room, funneling his need into the physical. Because when he, as Mercy had put it, “pounced,” he wanted Indy all to himself, no avenues of escape, no buffer of pack.

In spite of
her earlier run with Hawke, Indigo couldn’t quite find her balance at that afternoon’s lieutenant meeting. She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that she’d seen Drew only minutes ago, his hair damp with sweat and his arm around Lucy as the sunny-natured young female hugged him affectionately.

Women loved Drew. No wonder he’d thought he could get Indigo into bed with so little trouble—and then pick up right where they’d left off, as if he hadn’t fundamentally altered the nature of the relationship between them. Her wolf bared its fangs at the idea of being lumped in with his little playmates until she had to consciously fight for control. It was as well that she was sitting in a special comm room surrounded by SnowDancer lieutenants.

Because of the breadth of SnowDancer territory, it was rare for all the lieutenants to meet in person. However, they had monthly meetings by comm-conference and each lieutenant passed through the den at least once every two months, which ensured the pack continued to function as a cohesive unit. Hawke, too, made trips to each part of their territory on a regular basis. Then there was Drew, who, with the support of his small and tight-knit team, roamed across the state on an as-needed basis.

Gritting her teeth as the damn wolf intruded into her thoughts once again, she looked up and focused on the screens set up in a semicircle around the room. The computronic setup allowed all of them to interact with each other at such an effective level that they often forgot they weren’t actually in the same physical location.

Jem—real name Garnet—had logged in from Los Angeles and was currently trading barbs with the startlingly green-eyed Kenji, something the two of them did so often, there was a running pool on exactly when they’d rip each other’s clothes off and just get it over with.

Alexei and Matthias were watching, quiet as always. Those two only moved when necessary, and they spoke even less most of the time. Of the two, Alexei, with his sun gold hair and movie star looks, was probably the more talkative—which meant he spoke maybe two words an hour instead of one.

Cooper, as one of the more senior sentinels—his place in the hierarchy similar to Riaz’s—looked on with open amusement, his skin gleaming a rich dark bronze in the sunlight pouring in through what Indigo knew to be a huge window to the left of his office, the jagged scar along his left cheek adding a rough accent to his features.

Women tended to look at him and shiver in a mix of fear and anticipation.

That was the closest they’d ever come to him, because Coop was crazy in love with—and courting—a woman so sweet, it had the whole pack abuzz. No one had expected mad, bad, and dangerous Coop to fall head over heels for the submissive wolf, least of all the wolf herself. Indigo bit back a grin as she thought of how bewildered Coop’s beloved had looked when it had dawned on her that she was being pursued by one of the most lethal men in the pack. That hadn’t lasted long. Because she might’ve been sweet, might’ve been submissive, but as Coop was learning, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a mind—and a will—of her own.

Then there was Tomás, who happened to be one of Drew’s closest friends—and consequently, seemed to take nothing seriously and had a way of smiling with those chocolate-dark eyes that made most women melt into puddles of goo.

Indigo gave Tomás a quelling stare when he glanced at Jem and Kenji and winked. But she couldn’t help her wolf’s answering grin. Because seriously . . . “You two need to get a room.”

Jem didn’t even stop arguing to give Indigo a highly specific nonverbal gesture with one deceptively delicate-looking hand. Kenji echoed the move with such unerring accuracy, it was as if they’d synchronized it across two different parts of the state. Next to Indigo, Riaz mouthed, “Kenji” to Tomás, who shook his head and mouthed, “Jem.” Riaz held up a hand, fingers spread. Tomás nodded, accepting the bet.

Judd said nothing from where he sat two seats to Indigo’s left, but he was relaxed to an extent he’d never have been a year ago, his chair tilted back to lean against the wall and his legs stretched out in front. But no matter his apparently lazy pose, Indigo had no doubts that he’d seen and logged every word that had passed since he entered the room.

Pushing back her own chair, Indigo put her legs up on the table in front of her and raised a hand in a casual wave as Hawke arrived to grab the empty seat on her right. “Now that we’re
all
here, we can begin.”

“Cut me a break,
Indy
.” Hawke grinned at the look she shot him, but his next words were pure growl. “I just spent ten minutes explaining to the juveniles why they can’t go around sniffing after the leopard girls without expecting to get their asses kicked by the leopard boys at least once. When the hell is Riley coming back?”

Alexei and Matthias both smiled, slowly and with the wolf in their eyes, while Tomás rocked back and laughed with open amusement, the lean male dimples that creased his cheeks turning his handsome face even more gorgeous. Shaking her head, Indigo reached over to tap Hawke lightly on the cheek with her pen. “You’ll live.” Turning back to the others, she said, “Kenji, cut the foreplay. Report.”

Kenji switched into lieutenant mode so fast, Indigo would’ve gotten whiplash if she hadn’t seen him do the exact same thing before. “Nothing significant to report. We’ve had a few extra Psy move into the region, but our intel says they’re no threat—looks like most came in for a job at a new Psy computronics factory.”

“Any indication the factory is a front for something else?” Hawke asked. “We’ve seen that before.”

“I’ve got my eye on it.” Kenji thrust back strands of his stick-straight black hair. “But everything checks out so far. And it’s one of Nikita Duncan’s—she tends to like to keep her profits separate from her politics.”

Indigo agreed with that assessment, but made a note to have the den’s resident hackers dig deeper into the factory’s files nonetheless. “Tomás, how’s your patch?”

“No change.”

Jem went next. “We’ve had a spike in the murder rate, but it looks to be human-on-human gang violence.”

“You on it?” Hawke tapped a finger restlessly on the arm of his chair.

“We’ve already had a talk with the gangs. They want to make trouble, they don’t do it in our territory.” What was left unsaid was that if they continued, they’d soon find themselves hunted down like so much prey. The pack didn’t hold the largest territory in the country because it played nice. One warning was all you got.

Matthias spoke for the first time, and his deep voice was a pleasure to listen to, resonant and with an almost impossible clarity. “I sent you that note about some weird ship movements. We haven’t been able to pin anything down yet, but I’ll keep you updated.”

Indigo looked at Cooper. “Anything new?”

“I’ve got two female novices who’re showing signs of skill at sharpshooting.”

“Send me their details,” Judd said. “I’ll evaluate them and set up a training schedule.”

“Hey, Coop,” Tomás called out, the devil in his eye. “How’s it going with your pretty little wolf?”

Cooper glanced over, unruffled. “You’ll be the last to know. But the next time you send her flowers, I’m going to come over for a nice friendly visit and shove them where the sun don’t shine.”

Ignoring the suspicious cough that seemed to have affected everyone in the meeting, Indigo pointed at Alexei.

“This sector’s stable,” the young lieutenant said, making a valiant effort to fight a laugh, “though I think we need to organize one of the packwide parties again. I’ve got too many unmated adults in my area and they’re starting to irritate each other.”

The last thing Indigo needed to be thinking about was the sexual hunger of their animals, but she set her jaw and got to it—because fact was, touch-hungry changelings, especially wolves as aggressive as those in SnowDancer, needed an outlet—and if they couldn’t have sex, they’d choose violence. Add in the lack of choice in Alexei’s comparatively small sector and you had a recipe for trouble.

“May,” she said, checking her calendar. “We can have a week-long event in den territory. That’ll give us the flexibility to ensure security doesn’t slip.”

No one had any issues with that, so they moved on.

“The falcons are making use of the flight treaty,” Matthias said toward the end, his thickly lashed eyes dark and intense. “I’ve seen them flying over my sector.”

“Me, too.” Alexei leaned forward, bracing his arms on a glowing cherrywood desk. “Where are we on a possible alliance?”

“I think it’s a real possibility,” Hawke said. “I sent Drew to spend some time with them on the ground a month ago, and his report backs up my instincts.”

“He in the den?” Cooper asked. “It’d be good to hear what he has to say.”

When Hawke nodded, Indigo said, “Ten-minute break,” in a tone she hoped sounded practical and nothing else, “then we reconvene. I’ll hunt down Drew.”

That proved to be child’s play. He opened the door to his room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet. “Indy.” Blinking water from his eyes, he stepped back and angled his head. “Come in. I was just about to throw some clothes on.”

Heat uncurled in her abdomen—because no matter how pissed she was at him, Andrew Kincaid made her fingers itch to touch. Smooth, gleaming skin, toned muscle, and those eyes that never lost the edge of wickedness. “You’re needed in the main conference room, five minutes.”

Heading back inside when she remained on the doorstep, he disappeared behind the door. “What about?”

“Falcons.” Her mind insisted on providing her with all sorts of salacious images as she heard the soft rasp of the towel leaving his body to pool on the floor, the rougher sound of him pulling on jeans—“Don’t be late,” she bit out and swiveled on her heel.

 

 

Andrew’s fingers clenched
convulsively on the T-shirt in his grasp. She was still mad; that much was clear. And no matter that keeping her angry was part of his ultimate strategy, he had the violent urge to tug her close and kiss the anger right off her lips.

Of course, he thought, in her current mood the only thing that would get him was a nicely eviscerated chest. “Charm,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t forget that—it’s all about charm. Stick to the plan.”

Pulling on the T-shirt, he laced up his sneakers and made his way to the conference room. “Nice to see everyone hard at work,” he said when he walked in to find them playing virtual poker.

There were a slew of responses to that, some rude, some friendly, but the game was cleared away in under a minute, with Alexei declared the winner. After the golden-haired lieutenant took a mock bow, Andrew—viscerally aware of Indigo’s silent presence on Hawke’s other side—laid out his impressions of the falcon wing.

“Good, strong unit,” he said. “Well drilled and trained to work together. The ancestors of the core group formed the wing prior to the Territorial Wars, so they’ve been around several hundred years.”

“Why aren’t they bigger in numbers by now?” Judd asked from his position at the far end of the table.

Hawke was the one who answered. “Birds tend to keep their wings small. I think it has to do with ensuring enough open sky, though I’ve heard they stay in close contact with other wings across the country.”

“Hawke’s right,” Andrew said, even as his wolf picked out Indigo’s scent from all the other threads in the room and rolled around in it like a pup. “I asked Adam, their wing leader, about that. He says their flight paths often overlap, so it makes sense to keep things pleasant. But the end result is that while WindHaven might not be huge, we ally with them, we gain access to a network of wings across the country.”

Cooper raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to sneeze at. So long as they can handle us.” A blunt truth. “Otherwise, the dominance issues will make a mess of things.”

Hawke rocked back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head. “Having dealt with Adam, and Jacques, his second, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“So we’re going to start the ball rolling?” Indigo’s voice, slicing through Andrew’s concentration with the ease of a razor.

“I’ll talk to DarkRiver,” Hawke said, “see if they have any further information, but yeah, I think we should take advantage of the opportunity.”

Andrew listened as Indigo went through a couple of other matters before ending the meeting. Her words were crisp, her commands clear, and her intelligence as sharp as a blade—there was no way in hell she was going to make this easy for him.

His wolf sat up in anticipation—he’d never wanted easy. He’d always wanted Indigo. And tomorrow, he’d have her all to himself, far from the den and the hierarchy . . . and the rules that she used to keep her own explosive response to him under vicious control. But he knew. He’d tasted it.