Mine to Possess (27 page)

“That,” Judd said, continuing to keep Brenna's hand in his, “is the issue. If I give you the location of the lab and you go in openly, it may blow my contact's cover. Only a select few have access to that data.”

“But if we could save Jon—and others they haven't yet taken—wouldn't it be worth it?” Talin asked, angry at the SnowDancer male for being so damn uninvolved.

Then she saw the quiet fury in his gaze and realized her mistake. “If my contact is unmasked and the Council shifts the lab again, we might not be able to stop the Implant Protocol. It'll affect hundreds of thousands. I'm not asking you to make a choice between this boy and the Psy children who will be implanted. I'm telling you there is no easy answer.”

With those words, he turned black and white into gray, left her grappling with a moral dilemma that appeared to have no solution. “I don't suppose we could sneak in?”

“It's located in the middle of cornfields deep in Nebraska, open visibility in every direction.”

Clay found himself thinking of the story Tally had told him about her secret caves. “What about underground? There has to be some system to bring in supplies—even if it's just replacement medical equipment. It can't be a hermetically sealed environment.” He also knew that if the children
were
being taken to this facility, the Psy would need to have a system in place to transport the bodies out. But he kept his silence. Tally's heart was already breaking—she didn't need to hear that.

Judd's expression shifted, became thoughtful. “They could be teleporting in everything, but I'd say that's unlikely. Tele-porters are thin on the ground—the Council would never waste them on such menial tasks.”

“And,” Brenna murmured, “they can't be trucking or flying things in. The traffic would give away the location.”

“There has to be a hidden access point.” Animal instinct told Clay he was right.

“Pity we don't have a teleporter ourselves,” Talin muttered.

“Wouldn't help,” Judd told her. “They need an image of where they're going, particularly when buildings are involved. Otherwise, they could end up inside a wall or stuck halfway through a ceiling. Organs sliced in half, instant death.”

Talin shivered.

“There's one other thing,” Clay said. “A witness saw Jon disappear off the street. Any way to explain that if we work on the theory that this isn't a teleporter?”

“They probably threw out a wave of telepathic interference. It would've blocked any humans from ‘seeing' the snatch. Sloppy work if your wit was aware Jon had disappeared—either that or the wit was changeling.”

Clay made a note to check up on that. If one of the Rats had fathered a child, he could understand their protectiveness in hiding the kid, but DarkRiver needed to know. “What's the closest safe insertion point to the lab?”

“Cinnamon Springs—only town within any reasonable distance.”

“We'll fly there tomorrow, check it out,” Clay said.

Judd reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a data crystal. “The exact location. Keep it on an absolute need-to-know basis. One slip and they'll move the lab. If you want me to go in with you, call. Otherwise, everything I know is on that crystal.”

“There has to be a way in,” Brenna murmured. “Sorry, darling, but Psy often don't think about us animals.”

“Even Psy learn,” her mate responded with an amused smile that was so unexpected, Talin's mouth fell open. “They're wary of cats and wolves now. There's a high probability the area's been seeded with sensors calibrated to pick them up.”

Clay stirred. “Yeah, but what about snakes? Snakes can hide in corn and, in animal form, they're unique enough that the sensors shouldn't go off.”

“You know a snake? Oh!” She suddenly remembered his story about a changeling with shimmering black scales. “Do you think your friend will help us?”

“I'll ask.” Clay nodded at Judd. “Best-case scenario—we go in without setting off alarms, kids are there, we get them out.” A pause. “High-tech security like that—I'm not sure we can maintain your secret.”

“If you think it's going to turn to shit, warn me. I need to alert my contact.”

Talin met the Psy man's cold gaze. “Why?” They could be undoing everything he had worked to achieve, but he hadn't flinched.

“Sometimes,” he said, “you have to save the innocents you see in front of you and worry about the ones to come later.”

At that instant, Talin realized that who Judd seemed was not who he was. She was about to thank him when her brain suddenly presented her with the answer to a question she hadn't been conscious of considering. “You know, I was always good at puzzles.”

Everyone looked at her.

“How do we get information from inside a locked room without opening the door? We have someone send it to us, of course.”

Judd shook his head. “The lab is under a blackout. No PsyNet access.”

“What about the Internet? Telepaths tend to ignore it, but it works just fine.” Brenna sat up straighter. “Judd, baby, do you have a link on the inside?”

“We have suspicions that a certain scientist may be open to being turned but no proof.”

“You able to put out some feelers?” Clay asked.

A sharp nod. “I don't know how much good it'll do. My contact is…not
good
as you would think of it. He's not evil, either, but he won't do anything unless it complies with his personal code. That code involves a deep loyalty to his race. However, since he passed on the information about the kidnappings, he may be willing.”

Talin hoped with all her heart that the humanity within this unknown Psy was stronger than the Silence.

Jonquil opened his
eyes and for a horrifying second, thought he was blind. His lungs grew tight as he fought the screaming urge to panic.

Then cool fingers touched his forehead. “Lie still.”

“You.” Relief turned his limbs to water. “What's wrong with me?”

“Your eyelids are grossly swollen.” She touched them and even that feather-light brush caused excruciating pain. “I apologize. I was applying a salve—give it a few minutes and the swelling will reduce to a negligible level.”

He trusted her. She was the only adult in this place who hadn't tortured him. “What did they do to me?”

“I'm not certain, but I believe they were testing a new compound that's purportedly meant to help with the integration of an implant.”

He didn't understand most of that, but he caught the idea. “They poisoned me?”

“That wasn't the point, but let's say it's a good thing for you that their science was flawed. Had it not been, you'd be dead now.”

He was used to listening for nuances in people's voices. However, Blue…she was beautiful, with her smooth skin and wolf eyes, but her voice was utterly toneless. So he made a guess. “Did you help that flaw along?”

A small silence. “You're highly intelligent. Yes. It was to my advantage that their experiment failed.”

“Why?”

“I need you alive.” She touched his face, then his neck. “Why do you have so much bruising? It should have been a simple injection.”

He could make out some light now. Relieved that she'd been telling the truth about his eyes, he answered almost absentmindedly. “I think I might've tried to hit them while I was out of it.”

“That explains Larsen's black eye.”

Fear clawed through him. “The little girl—did that guy hurt her? He said they wouldn't if I cooperated.”

“He lied,” she responded, cold as the chill of these antiseptic walls. “Nothing you can do will stop him. But the girl is safe for now. He's having some trouble getting new subjects so he's taking care with the single undamaged one he already has.”

“Trouble?” He began to smile. “Talin. Talin did something.” He'd nicknamed her the Lioness after seeing her hair. It had been meant to be a joke because she was so little, but it had turned out to be perfect—she never gave up. “She told me she'd fight for me.”

Blue's face was now a fuzzy shape above him. “Who is Talin?”

He realized he'd been led into a trap. “No one.”

“It's in your best interest to tell me. You're a bargaining chip. I need to know with whom to negotiate.”

He refused to open his mouth. He had already been enough of an idiot. If Talin was trying to help him, he wouldn't give her away to the enemies. He'd seen enough of life to know that, sometimes, evil wore a sweet face. “Thank you for the eye balm.” Everything hurt, but he forced himself into a sitting position against the wall.

She was dressed like before, but she had pulled down her mask to uncover her lips. No laugh lines marked the corners. “Swallow this.” She gave him a pill. “It'll capture the last of the poison and you'll expel it during normal bodily processes.”

He took it. He didn't trust her, but she'd been up front about calling him a bargaining chip. That, he believed. So she'd keep him alive until it suited her to do otherwise. “Thank you.”

A knock came on the door. It was Ashaya's cue to leave while the corridors were clear and the cameras had been looped to cover her retreat. Ming LeBon might have tried to seize control of her lab, but she commanded the loyalty of most of her staff. It helped that the Council had forced them all under a psychic blackout, in effect amputating a limb. A Psy was a psychic being by definition—to cut off their access to the PsyNet was a punishment. An undeserved one.

Standing, she pulled up the mask and looked down at the stubborn countenance of the boy. His recalcitrance didn't matter. Talin was an unusual name and she had Jonquil's entire file.

She went straight to that file upon reaching her private quarters. She wasn't stupid enough to assume they weren't keeping tabs on her even in there, but she did know they couldn't access the organizer she carried twenty-four/seven. The size of a small notebook, it had the capacity to store large amounts of data as well as act as a mobile comm device. It was where she kept files that could compromise her.

Files such as the heavily encrypted e-mail she had received an hour ago.

If you plan to act, do it now.

The e-mail had been unsigned, could well be a setup. However, it might also be an attempt to initiate contact by the underground rebels who were currently making the Councilors' lives very difficult. She had ways of getting news despite the psychic blackout and she knew these rebels were doing more damage than most people knew. She also knew that the Ghost, the most lethal rebel of them all, was an expert at finding classified information—such as Ashaya's very well hidden covert e-mail address.

Setup or not, she'd already made her decision. Things were getting problematic with Ming. Either she acted now, or she could find herself permanently compromised. The Councilor was a master of mental combat—should he decide that the deterioration in her productivity would be balanced out by her guaranteed allegiance, he wouldn't hesitate to imprison her mind. The humans called it mind control. It was exactly that.

Ashaya had no intention of becoming one of Ming's puppets.

She also had no intention of allowing him to take control of her son.

So she would take this calculated chance and trust the probability matrix to hold true. If she had made an error in her calculations, both she and Keenan were dead. But if she did nothing, the outcome was
certain
death. Of course, there was one other person she could go to for help, but the price Amara would demand was not one Ashaya was willing to pay. This was the only viable option.

Taking a seat in the corner she had arranged to shield her from surveillance equipment while appearing natural, she brought up the file on Jonquil Duchslaya. She didn't need to look very far before finding his Talin.

Talin McKade was listed both as Jonquil's point of contact at the Shine Foundation and as his next of kin. According to the file, the woman was part of Shine's street team, holding the official title of Senior Guardian.

It wasn't what Ashaya had wanted to find. This Talin was not going to have the kind of influence or contacts Ashaya needed. She'd have to take the chance that, as a Senior Guardian, the woman could somehow attract the attention of the Shine board. Ashaya did not like to take chances without statistical support, especially not now, with so much at stake.

But the young girl—Noor—was even more of a loss in terms of a powerful network. Excepting a few recent mistakes that appeared to have sprung from Larsen's increasing lack of discipline, the scouts for this genocide labeled an experiment had been careful to choose isolated children. They were all linked to Shine, but as the humans had proven over and over, it was the emotional connection that drove the greatest efforts.

A single committed parent or family member could achieve more than an entire organization—especially an organization such as Shine, which, according to her data, was hamstrung by a board full of old men and women who didn't want to accept the fact that the Forgotten were still being hunted…still being exterminated.

If they wanted proof, she would give it to them.

But first, she had to strike a bargain.