Visions of Heat (22 page)

“You have an advantage he lacks.”

“I’m an F-Psy.” And the Council enjoyed being in a position of power. Her skills would increase that power by several magnitudes.

“I’ve prepared a file on Kaleb.” He showed her the point in the vault where it was stored and she downloaded the information into her roaming mind. “He’s dangerous and has certainly killed, notwithstanding the lack of evidence.”

“I’ll take care to ensure I don’t become the victim of an unexpected accident.”

“It’s not clear which of the Councilors are backing you and which favor Kaleb, so don’t let your guard down around any of them.”

“They’re not Psy I’d ever let my guard down around.”

“Who approached you?”

“Shoshanna Scott.”

“What was your impression?”

“That she hadn’t made any firm judgments.” Except for the blood on her hands. Faith crushed that thought as soon as it awakened. It could not be allowed to color her Net presence. “I’m assuming I’ll be contacted by the others in due course.”

“If you need to speak to me at any stage, don’t worry about formalities. ’Path.”

She nodded, cognizant it was a privilege. Anthony might be her father, but only a select few had the right to initiate telepathic contact with him. “Of course. Thank you for the file. I’ll study it carefully.” She meant that. Her mind might be starting to spin out of control, but it wasn’t yet gone and neither was she. Maybe she could still salvage her sanity and her life as a Psy, the only life she knew how to live.

What she refused to think about was the inevitable consequence of achieving that goal—never again being able to experience the exquisite agony of emotions that pleasured as well as hurt . . . never again tangling with a jaguar.

After spending
all day on the sculpture of Faith, Vaughn met up with the other sentinels and their alpha pair late that night to work on shielding. The location was a glade close to Lucas’s lair, not far from a small river that bisected the area and turned the air damp. Tamsyn, their healer, was also present.

Sascha ran them through the drills over and over, merciless in her drive to make them invulnerable to Psy attack, only calling a halt when they started to snarl at each other. “Given your psychic blindness, you’re doing far better than I expected. You’re actually learning to shield on a level beyond the normal changeling defenses.”

“Which are pretty damn strong.” Nate threw an arm around Tamsyn’s shoulders. His mate smiled and laced her fingers through his hand.

“Yes.” Sascha nodded. “Soon you’ll be close to invincible.”

“We already are, Sascha darling,” Dorian said from where he was sitting with his back against a tree.

Sascha walked over to the blond sentinel and tugged him to his feet for a quick hug. Dorian was no longer the open wound he’d been straight after his sister Kylie’s murder at the hands of serial killer—and former Councilor—Santano Enrique, but he remained badly damaged. The violent loss had done nothing to affect his abilities as a sentinel, but they were Pack. And Pack didn’t look the other way when one of their own was hurting.

Dorian’s needs made him no less respected in a pack where touch-hunger was accepted and fed. Sascha’s empathy in particular seemed to reach the latent male far deeper than anyone else. Now, she leaned her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, and closed her eyes. “Let me check the Web to see if any of these changes are manifesting there.”

She opened her eyes a second later and looked straight across to where Vaughn crouched. But she didn’t say anything of what he knew she wanted to say. “Everything looks good.”

“Then school’s out?” Dorian asked. “Anybody got detention?”

“Go before I change my mind.” Sascha kissed him on the cheek, laughing at his attempt to steal a more intimate kiss. “Vaughn, could you stay? I want to talk to you about something.”

Mercy made a sound of doom. “In trouble with Teach, cat. Didn’t do your mental exercises, did you?”

“He’s been distracted,” Clay murmured, a shadow almost invisible in the darkness.

“It speaks!” Mercy threw up her hands into the air. “How many words does that make for today. Ten?” She was still kidding the silent sentinel as she walked with him and Dorian out of the training area.

Tamsyn hugged Sascha good-bye. “I think my sons are in love with you. You should hear what they’re like when they get home—Sascha said this and Sascha said that.” The healer shook her head. “Lucas had better watch out.”

Wrapping an arm around Tamsyn’s waist, Lucas dropped a kiss on her hair. “Tell your damn brats to leave her alone.”

“Lucas!” Sascha sounded shocked.

Tamsyn laughed. “Don’t take him seriously. He took my adorable brats out for a run yesterday with Kit and some of the others.”

“Sorry, I’m not completely used to the way you interact.”

Coming around to hug his mate from behind, Lucas began nibbling on her neck.

“Don’t worry, honey.” The healer smiled at Sascha’s attempts to make Lucas behave. “You’ve only been cat for a few months. Give it time.”

Nate took Tamsyn’s hand. “We’d better go pick up Roman and Julian before Lysa decides she’s no longer our friend.”

Lucas waited until Tammy and Nate were out of earshot before saying, “Why don’t we head home to talk? It won’t take long if we run.”

“What about me?” Sascha asked, looking from one to the other. Honestly, they kept forgetting she couldn’t go furry.

Lucas gave her his back. “Hop on, darling.” His smile was this side of sinful, reminding her of the very first time he’d offered her a ride.

Later.
It was a mind-to-mind warning that turned into a promise.

Seconds later she was on his back and they were running. She trusted him absolutely, even at this breakneck pace. The changelings could
move
in either form. Holding on to the muscular body of her panther, she considered what she’d learned tonight. Only one thing was certain—Vaughn’s life was about to become very, very complicated.

A cold rush of wind across her face. The low rumble of Lucas’s growl as he warned away something in their path. The rich scents of the forest. It all dragged her firmly into the physical. Glorying in her freedom to indulge, she threw herself into the experience as only a former inmate of Silence could.

But the exhilarating ride was over too soon and they were at the lair. Leaving her alone with Vaughn, Lucas went to grab some drinks. Sascha glanced at the male lounging against the window ledge across from her. “Vaughn.”

“I know.” The jaguar folded his arms across his chest, his tattoo hidden by the gray sweatshirt he was wearing over his jeans.

Lucas walked back into the room. “Catch.” He threw a beer to Vaughn and handed her a bottle of cranberry juice—alcohol had an odd effect on Psy minds.

She waited until both men had taken long drafts from the dark green bottles. “I saw something in the Web.”

Lucas wrapped one arm around her neck and began to play with the end of her braid. “What?”

“Maybe Vaughn should be the one to explain.” She felt uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to breach your privacy. I’m really sorry.”

The jaguar threw the half-empty bottle from hand to hand. “I knew you’d see the bond.”

“With Faith?” Lucas stopped tugging at her braid. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d mated?”

“Because Faith doesn’t know.” Vaughn thrust a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “She’s not ready.”

“You can’t ignore a mate,” Lucas pointed out. “The bond has a way of showing itself at unexpected moments.”

“She’s feeling trapped as it is—how do you think this is going to look to her?” Vaughn rocked back on his heels. “Could other Psy detect the bond?”

Sascha took a moment to think about it. “They shouldn’t. The mating bond is changeling in nature, completely separate from the PsyNet. But”—she paused—“Faith is linked to both. I don’t know how that’s going to affect things. You need to tell her.”

“It might make her run. She’s had enough as it is.”

Sascha knew he was right. Vaughn was the sentinel Sascha had always been the most wary of—there was something dangerously primal about him. His animal roamed very close to the skin. She couldn’t imagine how Faith was going to deal with such an aggressive male. The F-Psy was new at emotion, at feeling anything. To ask her to embrace not only a male like Vaughn, but also the extreme devotion implied by the mating bond, might be to ask for far too much.

But as Lucas had already stressed, the bond couldn’t be ignored. “She might surprise you,” Sascha said. “She’s seeing some horrific things without any training in how to deal with them, but she hasn’t crashed. I think Faith is tougher than even she knows.”

Vaughn’s body was a tight wall of muscle as he faced them. “How do we get her out of the Net? Will the Web be able to support both of you at the same time?”

Sascha bit her lower lip. “I think there’s enough biofeedback.” Feedback no Psy could live without, the reason why dropping out of the PsyNet usually equaled suicide. “Two Psy minds should, in theory, augment the multiplication effect.”

“Should?” Lucas shifted around to scowl at her.

Vaughn watched Sascha scowl back. “It’s pure guesswork. DarkRiver’s Web isn’t supposed to exist in the first place. I don’t know how it’ll work, but we have to try. There’s no other choice.”

Lucas turned to him. “Shit, Vaughn. You had to go and mate with another damn Psy.” Dragging his mate closer, he bit her lightly on the neck. “Okay, so we have to utilize the Web. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“It could kill all four of us if we get it wrong and there’s not enough feedback,” Vaughn said, fists clenched.

“Then I’ll just have to blood-oath some new sentinels if that’s what it takes to strengthen the Web.” Lucas’s promise held the determination of a friendship forged in the darkest of fires. “But first, we need to get Faith out. Any ideas?”

“Use the disc?” Sascha was referring to the incriminating recording they’d created when they’d taken down the serial killer who’d butchered Kylie and mind-raped the SnowDancer, Brenna.

Vaughn wanted to grab at the idea, but he was a sentinel, sworn to protect DarkRiver. “The reasons why we didn’t originally release the recording still apply. We can’t take the risk of the Council feeling backed into a corner.” An animal in that position had nothing to lose by trying to go for the kill.

“He’s right,” Lucas said. “They can’t know how many more times we might blackmail them.”

“Talk to me, Sascha.” Vaughn folded his arms and tried to contain the urge to simply take what he wanted and damn the consequences. “Is there anything else you can think of?”

“Faith’s isolated lifestyle is one thing in our favor.” Sascha leaned against Lucas’s side. “People know her name, but very few have actually seen her. Her dropping out won’t cause as big a ripple as my defection did. But on the other hand, losing her will rob the Council of millions.”

“How?”

“Taxes in the most basic sense,” Sascha answered. “F-Psy create enormous amounts of money and it flows up. I know from my mother that in certain cases, the Council uses foreseers to increase its wealth in a much more direct fashion. They get the service free or at a generous discount.”

“Let me guess,” Vaughn interrupted, enraged at the idea of his mate doing anything to assist that group of cold-blooded monsters. “Nobody wants to piss off the big, bad Council by asking for payment.”

Sascha nodded. “People who get paid have a habit of disappearing and leaving their money to the Council.”

“So they’ll fight hard to keep her. They can’t pretend she’s defective like they did with Sascha.” Lucas’s facial markings stood out in sharp relief as anger pulled his skin taut. “And she’s a cardinal, too. Those eyes mean she can’t be hidden effectively.”

“No one’s going to be hiding Faith.” Vaughn knew his voice had dropped several octaves, but he was beyond caring.

“What about Faith?” Sascha asked softly.

“What about her?” Vaughn put the now empty bottle on the window ledge.

“Have you asked her whether she wants to leave the Net?”

“She’s my mate.” Of course she’d leave the Net. “I’ll try to give her some time to get used to the idea, but in the end, she has no choice.”

“I think she does.”

Vaughn’s beast prowled to the surface of his self. “How?” Mating was a compulsion with changelings. Even the most independent females, the ones who fought the hardest, found it difficult to spend long periods apart from the males who were meant to be their mates.

“She’s not changeling, so it doesn’t affect her the same way it does you, not unless she opens herself up to it like I did with Lucas. It might be uncomfortable for her, but she can probably block you.”

“Are you sure?” Vaughn’s claws were so close to his human skin that he felt the hard prick of the tips waiting to break through.

“No. She’s different from me. Being an empath meant I couldn’t ignore what I felt for Lucas. I don’t know if Faith is as bound to you.”

“So I could be mated to someone who could choose not to be my mate?” A nightmare idea. Mating was a one-shot deal. The link usually involved a conscious decision at some point by the female, which made Vaughn and Faith’s bond very unusual. But no matter how it had come into being, once made, even death couldn’t break it. No one mated twice. They might find a lover, but the hole in them would never be fixed.
Never.
“I need to run.”

But though he ran himself to exhaustion, his beast could find no comfort in an act that had always before meant freedom. Because he was chained, tied on the deepest level to a woman who just might destroy him.

 

Faith missed
her jaguar, missed him badly enough to stumble in her act of normality.

She was strolling the grounds in the cool light of morning and considering how to arrange another night escape when she started to think of Vaughn, of his presence, and yes, his touch. So deep was she in her thoughts that she nearly walked into a guard. That wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that her nerves were poised to jump in alarm.