Branded by Fire (29 page)

“The rescue was—”

“I’m not talking about that.” She pulled herself up on the bed until they lay face to face, side by side. “Sascha said that Brenna’s will was a steel flame, so strong, so beautiful.”

Violent pride in Riley’s eyes. “I know.”

“But, Riley”—she cupped his face in her hands—“where do you think she learned that strength, that will? Who do you think taught her that she
was
that tough, that she could beat anything?”

Flickers of understanding in his gaze, but he shook his head. “I always protected her.”

“But you didn’t cage her,” Mercy said, knowing he’d only tried to do that after the rescue. “You brought her up to be a proud, strong wolf.
You
gave her that foundation, Riley.”

A long pause and the wolf glimmered in his eyes. “I need to think about this.”

She smiled. “You do that, wolf.” Part of him would always worry after Brenna. That was normal. But perhaps, in time, he’d stop being haunted by a monster’s crime. “And remember, Brenna made it.” A brush of fingertips against his lips. “She’d probably like her big brother back.”

He dropped his forehead against hers in unspoken affection. Stroking her hand through his hair, she decided that was enough for one night. But she didn’t want him to fall asleep with such solemn thoughts on his mind—she wanted to give him a smile, guarantee his dreams
would
be pleasant. “Still want to know about the Bikini Babe contest?”

Chocolate brown eyes that were suddenly alert. “Hell, yes.”

She came so close their breaths mingled as they spoke. “Needless to say, you repeat this, I’ll sharpen my claws on your ribs.”

A slow blink. “It won’t leave the room.”

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “When I was fifteen and
very
stupid, I had a crush on this other cat.”

“Who?”

“Not important. And I mean that,” she added to make sure he’d drop it. “I was already stronger and faster than most boys my age. I thought this boy could handle that—he certainly seemed confident. Turned out he was a snotty-nosed twerp.”

“You going to tell me what he did?”

“If you stop growling.”

A startled pause. “Sorry.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” she said with the maturity of age, though it had devastated her at the time. “I gave him a Valentine’s Day card—he opened it in front of his friends, and made sure my friends and I were nearby, too. He laughed after he read it out, said he’d never go out with another
boy
.” The insult had spread through the school like wildfire, savaging Mercy’s fledgling feminine confidence.

“I’ll kill him.”

She nipped at the wolf growling in her bed. “No need. I took care of it.”

A gleam of interest.

“At first I was humiliated.” She’d cried on her mom’s shoulder until Bas and Dorian had both been ready to do murder. “Then I got mad. I decided to show him
exactly
what he’d missed out on.”

Amusement had his mouth curving. “I’m liking this story.”

“Knew you would.” It released the tension in her soul to see laughter in him again. “You can guess this part—there was a Bikini Babe contest that summer to publicize this new line of swimwear for teens. You had to be sixteen to enter and then only if you had parental permission—I was a few weeks too young, but Dorian hacked into the computers to get me entry.”

She couldn’t help the truly gleeful smile that spread across her face. “After I won, I printed up this poster of me wearing the winner’s sash—and a truly tiny bikini—and pasted it on the twerp’s locker, with the words ‘Dickless wonders need not apply’ at the bottom.”

Riley burst out laughing. “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Thank you. I was also grounded for months, along with Dorian. And I got detention for the poster prank, too.” She grinned. “I didn’t care. I was the hottest property on campus. You’ve never seen a more miserable face than the twerp’s—he looked like he was about to cry every time he saw me at the beach that summer. And I made sure to be at the beach a lot.”

Riley’s smile hadn’t faded. “Why don’t you like people knowing about this? He messed with your cat, you took care of business. Where’s the shame in that?”

“I was an idiot, Riley—I let that moron influence how I saw myself. I lost interest in tormenting him pretty fast once I saw how weak he was. Then I was mad at myself.” A pause, and without warning, the wickedness in her took over. “You know, I can still fit into the winning bikini . . . though it’s gone from tiny to microscopic.”

“You’re tormenting
me
now.”

Chuckling, she kissed him. “Sweet dreams, wolf.”

CHAPTER 38

The Information Merchant walked to his meeting in a deserted boathouse off a private marina with steady steps. Perhaps other men might have had concerns about coming to such an isolated area to meet individuals who’d already proved willing and able to kill, but he was a high-level telepath. He could and had crushed human minds with a single focused thought.

And, he was an information seller. That was his trade, and people paid him well for it. Clients seldom wanted to kill the golden goose. If they did, they’d discover their mistake. Reminded, he pressed a preprogrammed code on his organizer, utilizing the wireless link to his home computers, then slid it into his pocket.

Taking a last look around the dark, fog-shrouded street, he opened the small side door and walked in.

The bullet hit him hard, shoving him against the wall.

Staring down in disbelief at the . . .
dart
lodged in his chest, he attempted to gather his psychic resources for a deadly blast.

Only to find his mind mired in ice.

“Consider the experiment successful, gentlemen.” A voice from the shadows. “We’re all still alive.”

The Information Merchant gripped the dart and tugged it out. “Why?” The agony of the loss speared down his spinal column, spread through his nervous system.

“You know the answer—information. Unfortunately, you know too much.”

Steps coming in his direction.

Then a burst of pain inside his heart and everything stopped.

CHAPTER 39

Just after nine the next morning found a sleep-deprived but otherwise happy Mercy sitting across from Hamilton, the SilverBlade sentinel she’d had some fun with many, many moons ago. Staring at him, she suddenly realized he was a very good-looking man. Okay, she’d known that already, but only as an adjunct to his strength and speed. But today, she really saw his face—the chiseled planes, the luscious sun-kissed skin that had come by way of a Mediterranean ancestor, the vivid topaz eyes and jet-black hair.

“Why are you looking at me like I’m a bug?” he asked, passing her the files he could’ve as easily e-mailed.

It was a big, giant hint. But he hadn’t acted on it, which made Mercy suspicious. “I just realized how beautiful you are.”

He went red. Bright red. “God damn it, Mercy!”

“Sorry.” She grinned.

“No, you’re not.” Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t suppose your pack has anyone else like you?”

“No, I’m one of a kind.” She stared at him. “Are you troll ing for women?”

“Would you shut up?” But he was laughing. “No, but I’m keeping my eyes open—I’m getting antsy to settle down.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” Flippant words but her mind was connecting the dots. “You came back to see if I was your mate?”

He shrugged. “We had good chemistry and we’re friends. I figured it couldn’t hurt to come have another sniff—you know what I mean so stop gagging—and make sure. I can see I’m too late.”

Mercy got a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “And you know this, how?”

“The scent layer’s new, but it’s unquestionably there. You’re marked, babe.” He grinned. “Does the poor man know what’s in store for him?”

Mercy’s intestines tied themselves into a giant knot. It wasn’t surprising that Hamilton had picked up the scent layer faster than those in her pack. They knew how much time she and Riley had to spend together, probably figured it was a surface layer of contact. But she’d showered this morning after Riley left, then slicked pretty-smelling body cream over herself. And if Hamilton could still sense Riley . . .

No need to panic, she told herself. Lovers often wore layers of scent that made it clear who belonged to who—females and males both. “What’s the scent layer like?”

Hamilton gave her a keen glance, then whistled. “You didn’t know.”

“Answer the question.”

“I picked it up the instant I walked in the door—I’m getting a very definite ‘hands-off’ vibe.”

Mercy swore under her breath. Then again. “It’s the start of the mating dance.”

“Which is why I’m sitting wayyy over on this side of the desk and making no physical contact,” Hamilton said, raising his hands in the air. “I have no desire whatsoever to be hunted by some rabid male who’s decided I touched his woman.”

“I’m no one’s woman.”

“Not yet anyway. Am I the first to sense it?”

She nodded, trying to find her footing when the world had just shifted sideways.

“Since no one in your pack’s exactly a slouch,” he commented, “it means the change is recent. I probably picked it up because I haven’t seen you for so long.”

“And you’re single,” she said between gritted teeth, realizing the dance had to have kicked in the night before. By accepting his word that he’d try to never again hurt her as he’d done yesterday, she’d trusted Riley on a level she’d never before trusted a lover. More than that . . . he’d trusted her. “Every male I’ve seen this morning has been mated. The scent wouldn’t register as strongly to them.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m going to kill him,” she muttered. “He knew and didn’t tell me.” Changeling males
always
knew when the dance began.

“Ah, Mercy . . . I wouldn’t tell you, either.”

She felt her eyes go leopard. “Men!”

“Please,” he drawled out. “Look how you’re reacting. Dominant females don’t like the idea of being tied down. So if it was me, and you somehow didn’t notice the scent, I’d make sure we were well and truly entangled before I said anything. Less chance of you deciding not to accept the mating.” Getting up, he gave her a mock salute. “Are you sure you don’t know any more like you?”

She thought about it. “Indigo.”

“The wolf lieutenant?” He whistled. “She’s all kinds of
fiiine
. Would she date a cat?”

“Ask her.”

“Damn if I won’t.” He held out his hand for Indigo’s number.

Mercy gave it to him in thanks for the fact that he’d spilled the beans about the mating dance. She also threw in a bonus warning. “Don’t try any dominant shit on her—she’ll eat you for breakfast then suck the marrow from your bones for dessert.”

It was a measure of Hamilton’s confidence that he grinned as if he’d just been told he’d won a million bucks. Hah, she thought as he walked out. He was all fun and games now, but if it got serious, he’d probably turn as crazy as Riley and try to keep Indigo from harm. Now that, Mercy thought, would be a fireworks show she’d pay to witness.

Of course, Riley
had
seen the error of his ways. More, he’d offered her a glimpse of his heart, something she’d never expected. It had undone her.

Ten minutes later, he surprised her again. “We need to go look at a corpse.”

Mercy blinked. “Wow, so romantic.”

“Intel came to me since I’m in charge of city security this morning. But I thought you’d want in on it. I’m on my way to pick you up.”

“I’ll grab a kit with gloves and things.”

 

 

It didn’t take them long to get to the body—found by a couple of the Rats in one of the less accessible corners of the bay, the information had traveled to cat and wolf ears rather than Enforcement, which meant they had free rein at least for a short time frame.

The body was wedged between several rocks, having apparently been washed up at high tide. Parking the car in the shadow of a large tree, the two of them headed down the tiny dirt access road to check it out. Though the sea had done a credible job of smothering the man’s natural scent, they both caught the faint metallic tang.

“Psy,” Mercy said, crouching beside the body. “Those squads that Sascha and Judd told us about must be combing the city, searching for him.” All Psy who disappeared from the PsyNet without explanation were tracked to verify the reason for their sudden disengagement.

Riley nodded. “The instant word of his body gets to Enforcement, we lose all hope of figuring out how he ended up here.”

“I’ve got enough training to process this,” she said. “We bring in our techs and we give away the game.” There was nothing much out here—two people might skate under the radar, but a team would be highly visible.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Anyway, it could be simple drowning or suicide.” Putting on thin protective gloves, she checked the corpse for evidence of how the male might’ve died, while Riley took photographs with a small but high-resolution camera. “Fish have nibbled a bit and he’s been banged around, but I’m not seeing anything that screams murder. Of course, I’m no expert.”

He tapped a finger on his knee. “Can you take samples without it being obvious you took them?”

“No problem—I’ll go through one of the bite sites.” She was drawing blood as she spoke. “Haven’t done anything like this for a while.”

“Remind you of med school?”

A pointed glance. “That background check sure was thorough.”

“Of course.” He kept an eye out around them as he spoke, making certain to look skyward, too. “Falcons are coming today. They want us to grant them permission to fly over pack land.”

She took a number of swabs, making quick notes on where they’d been taken from. “Been in the works for a while.” The WindHaven clan occupied territory—a large slice of Arizona—that bordered SnowDancer land. Their request wasn’t unprecedented. The bird changelings, especially the species that were meant to fly far and wide, often negotiated such treaties—the right to flight along strictly drawn paths.