Mine to Possess (31 page)

“That these two”—Dorian nodded toward the children—“might be safe, but the people running these experiments aren't going to stop. Head guy's name is Larsen. Ashaya thinks the man will come after Talin, too.”

His leopard roared to angry wakefulness. “We knew that. With Max down, she's become their most visible adversary.”

Clay reached up and caught a football that seemed to come out of nowhere, then threw it across to the other side of the yard—in the direction of the woods that backed onto Tamsyn's home. Nico and Jase were just walking out. The teenagers grabbed it, waved, then jogged over to join Talin and Sascha.

Nico was clearly taken with Tally. Clay didn't interrupt the kid's flirting. The boys knew what lines they could and couldn't cross, and the fact that Nico was secure enough to seek affection from Tally meant he saw her as part of DarkRiver.

“We've got to clean up the loose ends.” His blood simmered at the hint of danger to his mate, but that wasn't his top concern. Anyone who dared threaten her would die, end of story. He had seen her broken once. Never again.

Tally, eyes glazed, face splattered with blood, huddling in the corner. Quiet. So quiet. Even then, even after he'd terrified her with his violence, even after he'd left her alone with strangers, she had protected him with her silence.

Zeke got desperate when I still wouldn't talk…

His Tally had gone mute rather than betray him. She had continued to love him though he'd broken every damn promise he'd ever made to her. It enraged the leopard that he couldn't keep her safe now, reminded him of those years when Orrin had been hurting her and he hadn't known.
She was his life.
He'd destroy the world for her. Yet this disease left him helpless.

“I had a call from Dev Santos earlier.” He forced himself to think past the blood fury. “He's disposed of the mole.”

Dorian gave him a curious look. “Disposed?”

“I'm guessing in very small pieces.”

“I like this guy already.” Leaning back against the wall of the house, Dorian frowned. “You know, if these kidnappers have lost that source of information, they're going to need a new one.” He swore. “They won't kill Talin. They'll try to take her alive.”

“No, they won't.” Clay felt the claws of the animal unfurl within his skin, felt the power of it rip through his flesh. “It's hard for dead men to do anything.”

Ming LeBon sat
in Ashaya's office once more. She hadn't expected to see him for days, given the situation in the PsyNet.

“Larsen seems convinced you had something to do with the disappearance of the two remaining test subjects.”

“I did,” she said, wondering if she'd made a fatal mistake. Had Larsen had Ming's active support? Her findings had led her to conclude that the other scientist had gone far beyond the limits of anything Ming had authorized.

Ming didn't even blink at her confession. “What did you do to them?”

“I terminated them.”

“Where are the bodies?”

“Gone.” She met his expressionless face with a blank look of her own. “It would've been stupid to kill them as a message and then leave their remains to be found so Larsen could utilize the brain tissue.”

“And my man?”

Ashaya had no need to lie. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I did this on my own.”

“I don't take well to losing one of mine.”

“Ming, while I'm happy to take on Larsen,” she said with absolute truthfulness, “I have no desire to make an enemy out of you. We both know who would walk out alive. If one of your men has disappeared, I would look elsewhere for the culprit.”

A pause that lasted sixty seconds. The chill of the lab worked its way into Ashaya's bones but she remained unmoving. She was glad for her control when Ming said, “A traitorous e-mail has been traced to this facility.”

An inexcusable error.
She had acted on the assumption—always dangerous—that the outmoded Internet pathways out of Cinnamon Springs were not being monitored. “I'm sure you've taken care of the culprit.”

“I will—as soon as I break the encryption on the remaining e-mails.”

She thanked Talin McKade for whatever it was she had done to hide their tracks. “Would you like to scan my organizer?” she offered, having prepared a duplicate for this very purpose. It would pass most checks. The critical word was “most.”

Ming watched her. “Not at present. If you were to prove the traitor, I would have to kill you. That would be inconvenient.”

Ashaya held his gaze, very aware her death would be nothing easy. “Indeed.”

“Tell me, why did you sabotage Larsen's work?”

“Because this is
my
lab.” Her tone was ice. “You assured me I was the head M-Psy on the project.”

“Larsen was taking a parallel but different approach to the implant issue.”

“Nonsense.” She handed him a slim electronic data file. “Look at the results.”

“Where did these scans come from?”

“From the experimental subjects.”

“These don't correlate to the ones I've seen.”

“Then I suggest you ask Larsen to explain.” She kept her tone unflinching. “He must have been doctoring data in order to gain support for his unauthorized experiments.” Anything that went on in her lab was supposed to go through her, and, when new lines of research were involved, through Ming.

“According to these readings, the brain patterns of the Forgotten are nothing like ours.”

“Yes.” Not quite the complete truth. If Larsen—now on his way to San Francisco—survived the next twenty-four hours, she would have to ensure she had enough “data” to refute his conclusions. Ashaya didn't think she'd need her backup plan, not if Talin McKade's friends were as lethal as they appeared.

The only problem was that Larsen had taken Ekaterina with him and Ashaya had no way to share that information with Ms. McKade—Security had cut off all access to the Internet. “Any experiments run on the Forgotten are worthless in terms of Protocol I, even had Larsen followed proper research methods.”

Ming put down the file. “Be that as it may, these experiments allowed Larsen to exterminate those Forgotten who might one day have posed a threat.”

“And who would these mythical creatures be?” She gave him another file, wondering what the line was between pragmatic unemotionalism and sociopathy. As far as she was concerned, genocide could not be justified, not by any logical reason. “None of Larsen's test subjects had anything comparable to our abilities. They've interbred with the humans and changelings for too long.” Not a lie, as such. But there were things she was withholding, unexpected, powerful mutations caused by generations of intermingling.

Ming put down the file. “I could make it a condition of your…situation that you cooperate with Larsen's research.”

The threat, to her son, caused an unknown cluster of neurons to spark to life in her brain. She was a researcher, but she didn't know what those awakening sparks implied. Her conditioning was flawless, her shields airtight. “You could,” she responded. “But the time I spend on Larsen's useless endeavors will slow down my own progress.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, simple fact. I'll accede to whatever you decide, but I don't share power well.” She had no doubt it was a trait Ming understood.

“We can run these experiments at another lab.”

“Of course.” She could not risk disagreeing with him. “However, I would suggest you not dispose of the subjects in so public a fashion.”

Ming stilled. “Explain.”

It had been a stab in the dark, but it seemed she'd hit on something Larsen had neglected to mention. “Larsen's method of disposal involves removing the organs, delivering a beating postmortem, and dumping the body in a major metropolitan location.”

“I believe I need to have a discussion with Larsen.”

Ashaya pushed her advantage. “I was under the impression that he had your support,” she said. “According to the security logs, he's been using several of your officers to run interference with Enforcement. Their notes state he had authorization documents from you.”

Ming's liquid black eyes swam. “Send a copy of those reports through to me. I don't have time to talk to him today.” He rose. “Ashaya, it would be in your best interest to never forget that there is a difference between you and Larsen.”

She waited.

“He is nothing, a pawn. You are necessary. I would never simply kill you.”

No, she thought, he would rip open her mind, dig into her inner core…and turn her into the most compliant of puppets.

On the PsyNet,
a Council session was taking place, the second emergency session in a row. Kaleb Krychek, the newest member of the Psy Council and possibly its most dangerous, noted that Ming's mind was the last one to appear.

“Marshall is dead.” Nikita's pronouncement met with chill silence.

“Are you certain?” Tatiana asked.

“His remains have been formally identified. DNA cross-matched. I saw the process take place, with Shoshanna as witness.”

“Confirmed,” Shoshanna said.

No one argued after that. Shoshanna and Nikita were sworn enemies. Neither would cover for the other.

Henry Scott stirred. “Was it a changeling attack as we thought?”

“No,” Shoshanna informed her husband. “That would have been preferable.”

“It was one of us,” Nikita added. “A precision hit.”

“Any similarities to the bombing of the original Implant lab?” Tatiana asked. “It could be the same saboteur.”

“That was my first thought, too,” Nikita said. “Ming, you examined the weapon fragments.”

“The signatures are different,” Ming told them. “However, the skill and speed of the offensive makes me conclude we're dealing with the same perpetrator. It may be that he's working with accomplices.”

“The Ghost,” Tatiana said. “He's fast becoming a real threat. He's scattering our resources to the point where several of those we would rather keep chained have escaped their bonds.”

Kaleb knew she was referring to the anchors. The PsyNet needed them, but unfortunately, they had a tendency to fall victim to one of the lesser-known side effects of Silence—homicidal insanity.

“Yes,” Ming agreed. “I've recently come into possession of facts that suggest non-anchors, too, are now beginning to feel the effects of the disturbances in the Net. It's feeding into weak minds, disrupting their conditioning.”

“It's imperative we stop the Ghost before he does more damage. How did he get the bomb into Marshall's home in the first place?” Tatiana asked.

“Unknown.” Shoshanna's cool mental tone. “We're tracing all visitors but no one sends up a red flag. Ming may be correct—the Ghost may be the moniker for a group, rather than an individual. Regardless, the Ghost is too good at this.”

“But,” Kaleb said, having kept his silence to that point, “he is not Council. He doesn't have our resources. We need to start hunting in earnest.”

“Agreed.” Five voices in unison. “The Ghost must be eliminated.”

Kaleb wondered if any of the five realized they had just responded to him as if he were their leader.

Talin had known
something was up the entire day. Clay had gone ever more silent as the hours passed, his eyes so darkly possessive she'd felt their touch to the core of her soul. God, the man made her shiver with need, all with a single hot look.

“Are you going tell me what you've been brooding about?” she asked the second they reached home that night.

“No.”

Sometimes, the bond they'd formed in childhood was a problem. They had none of the walls that other couples did, had been friends far too long before becoming lovers. It was a brilliant, powerful feeling she'd never give up, but honestly—“You drive me crazy sometimes!”

He took off his jacket and leaned down to kiss her. She tried to dodge it, but Clay was in the mood to show off. He held her easily in place as he melted her bones from the inside out. When she could breathe again, she scowled. “I mean it. Tell me what's up.”

“What did you say to get Jon and Noor to stay on at Tammy's?”

She bit her lip. “That we needed to make some additions to this place so that there would be enough room. Are you mad? I mean, I just assumed—”

He put a finger against her lips. “Jon can plug his ears when we make out. Noor's a baby. What the hell's she going to do—eat your chocolate?”

She wanted to be mad at him, but he made it so hard. “Jon's not exactly…good.”

He laughed, a jaw-cracking laugh full of true humor. “Baby, I have bad covered. Leave the kid to me.” He kissed her again. “This place is a bit far out. We might have to consider moving closer to the other families.”

“Maybe later,” she said. “Right now, they need the security of knowing no one can get to them and it's not going to get much more secure than the middle of DarkRiver land. They can study at home for a while. We'll get a computer tutor set up.”

“Whatever you want.” He pulled her hair out of its ponytail and thrust a hand through it. “Soon as we decide what we want where, construction can begin. Two, three days and we'll have new rooms.”

“So soon?”

“DarkRiver's in construction and I'm the boss as far as building goes.” He grinned. “They'll haul ass. Dorian's already drawing up some plans.”

“Is he really an architect?”

He tapped her lightly on the bottom. “Yes, and don't sass him. He's threatening to throw you into the nearest body of ice-cold water.”

She stood on tiptoe, arms around his neck. “Nah. You wouldn't let him.”

His smile turned violent in its tenderness. “No. You're mine to protect.”

“Tell me,” she whispered, her own smile dying. “Tell me what it is you're going to do.”

“Why do you think I'm going to do anything?”

“Because,” she swallowed, “you had that same look in your eyes the day you killed Orrin.”

Green filled her vision as those magnificent eyes grew flame-hot. “And does it terrify you now, too?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “It terrifies me to know I could lose you again because you care too much for me.” A tear streaked down her face. “I'm not worth your life.”

Clay hated seeing Tally cry,
hated
it. It wasn't the usual male thing with female emotion. It was this deep, eviscerating pain. Reaching up, he wiped away the tears with rough strokes of his thumb. “You are worth everything!” He was angry at her for thinking so little of herself. “Baby, you need to let me do this.”

“What?”

“Keep you safe.”

“I am safe. With you.”

He shook his head. “The Psy need to understand that you're protected. Anybody who comes after you takes their life into their hands.”

“There's more than one,” she pleaded with him. “If you go after them, they'll—”

“I'm not alone either.” He nuzzled at her, wanting to reassure her, to soothe her, but unable to accept her plea to let it be. He couldn't claw out the disease inside her but he could get rid of this threat. “You're part of a pack now. Accept what they need to give you.” What he needed to give her.

“I
adore
you,” she whispered. “If you die, I'm not going to make it.” The words were stark, her heart laid open on her sleeve.

“Then don't ask me to sit on my hands while you stand in harm's way,” he demanded. “I need to protect you.”

“I'm already si—”

He kissed her before she could say anything. She wasn't sick, wasn't dying. He refused to let her go. “We'll talk about that later,” he told her. “Tonight, just…tell me you'll be here when I return.” Ready to touch him no matter that he came to her with violence painted across his body.

Her face set in stubborn lines and he felt his predator's heart stop. “You get one scratch,” she said, “
one single scratch
, on your body and you'll be sleeping in the living room for the next month.” Her lips trembled. “Do I make myself clear?”

He smiled at the threat neither of them believed she'd carry through. “Yes, ma'am.”

Talin walked back
into Tamsyn's by now familiar home late that night. “I'm going to head to the lair with Clay when he returns,” she told the healer, already worrying for him.

“I know.” Tamsyn smiled. “Want a glass of wine?”

“It's late.” She unclenched her fingers, told herself he'd be fine. He would come back to her, he'd promised. He wouldn't leave her alone again.

“I don't think you'll be sleeping. Neither will Sascha.”

“Sascha's here, too?” Having come straight into the kitchen after Clay dropped her off, she hadn't seen the other woman. She swallowed her fear, not wanting the cardinal to sense the depth of her scars. She
knew
Clay wouldn't leave her by choice. He never had. But in some hidden part of her, she was still a shocked and bloodied eight-year-old, and that child knew that, sometimes, you weren't given a choice. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs. Julian woke up and demanded she come cuddle him—I swear the twins can scent her a mile away.” She shook her head. “They have the most enormous crushes on her. I think they'd fight Lucas for her if he wasn't so much bigger.”

Talin forced her mind to the present. “I can guess why.” The two women might not see it but they were very similar, both of them with the warm hearts of healers. And yet there was a strength in them that promised protection. “Jon and Noor?”

“Noor's asleep and Jon's keeping Kit company while he studies.” She pointed upstairs. “Second door on the left.”

Talin shook her head. “I think I've used up all my fuss points for the next month.”

Tammy grinned. “He'll be okay with Kit.”

“You always seem to have people around,” Talin began, eager to know more about Clay's world. She never wanted to hurt him as Isla had done by not acknowledging his beast, by not accepting that he was different—in a beautiful, unique way. “Do you mind?”

“Lord, no. It makes me content to care for the pack. Part of the healing gift, I suppose.” The other woman pushed a flute of pale gold wine across the counter. “That's why the pack healer always has a big house. Somehow, their home inevitably becomes the social center of the pack.” She picked up a bag of coffee beans.

“Are you making coffee, too?”

“Faith and Sascha don't drink wine—Psy have an odd reaction to alcohol.”

Right then, someone knocked on the front door. “I'll get it,” Talin offered.

When she opened it, it was to find Faith on the other side. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” The F-Psy smiled before turning to wave at the seemingly empty space behind her. “Vaughn,” she said in response to Talin's bemused expression. “He and Mercy are running outside border watch tonight. Nate's doing the inner region.”

Something clicked in Talin's brain. “Is that why we're all here?” She stepped aside to let Faith walk in. Everyone knew that Psy didn't like to be touched and Faith wasn't exactly her best friend.

“Yes.” The F-Psy put a large shopping bag on the floor beside the hall closet. “It's easier for them to cover us this way, since they're three short.” She hung up her coat and, leaving the bag on the floor, began to head toward the kitchen. Talin fell in beside her. It took incredible force of will not to ask the question she so desperately wanted to ask—had Faith had another vision of Clay's future? What had she seen?

Faith stopped halfway down the hall and turned. “I owe you an apology.”

“Why?”

“Emotion is still new to me.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her black slacks. “Sometimes I find it hard to handle.”

“Everyone gets that way.” Talin wondered what it was like to grow up without emotion. She couldn't imagine ever not loving Clay.

Faith's night-sky eyes seemed to turn darker. “Clay scared me when I first came into DarkRiver, but then he became my friend. So when you—”

“It's okay,” Talin interrupted. “You were worried I was bad for him, so you went overprotective. The truth is,” she admitted, “now that I'm not blinded by stupid jealousy, I'm glad for the tenderness you tried to give him. That's nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is.” Faith's expression was resolute. “Sascha and Tammy were so nice to me when I entered DarkRiver. I should've remembered their example and treated you with the same warmth and respect.”

“I figure we're even.” Talin filled her voice with sincerity—so that Faith didn't have to guess at nuances of emotion. “I called you all sorts of names in my head.”

Faith gave a small smile. “We're okay?”

And the words came out. “You tell me.”

“Sometimes,” Faith said, her voice holding a crystal clarity that was almost painful in its beauty, “it's better not to know what the future brings. If I had known about Vaughn, I might've run and missed out on the best thing in my life.”

“I doubt you would've gotten very far.” DarkRiver men were nothing if not determined.

“Some things are set in stone.” Faith's smile grew. “Like you and Clay.”

Talin felt her stomach fill with butterflies. “You sound very certain of that.”

“We, all of us who are mated, we're learning and growing into our bond, but you and Clay—it's like the bond's been there forever, it's so solid, so true.” The foreseer shook her head and pushed through into the kitchen. “You have the bond of a couple that's already been together for decades.”

A pungent mix of shock and panic dried out Talin's mouth. The way Faith was speaking, it was as if she could see the bond—if true, that meant Talin and Clay had truly mated. But that was a question she would ask only Clay. “So,” she said, forcing down her disquiet, “what are we going to do tonight?” She had to do something or she'd go insane.

Tammy shot her a mischievous look. “Well, we know you had to clear out of your apartment in a hurry and that you probably didn't take much time to pack, so we did some shopping for you.”

“Except,” Faith added with a smile, “Sascha got lost in the lingerie department.”

Tammy laughed. “Don't worry. We got you at least two non-X-rated pieces. Including this.” She held up a beautiful green sweater, the one she'd begun knitting the night Talin had first traded barbed remarks with Faith. “It was always for you.”

Talin felt off center, lost. “Why?” She didn't have friends, didn't know how to give that much of herself to anyone but Clay.

“Because,” Sascha said from behind her, “you're one of us. And DarkRiver looks after its own.”

Clay figured that
if this Larsen bastard planned to hit Talin, he'd start off at either the last spot where she'd been seen or Max's hospital room. He and Dorian eliminated the latter option by getting Max discharged.

The cop thanked them for it. “I thought I'd never get out,” he said as they helped him to the car. He wasn't so pleased when they took him to a small and very private changeling hospital, used only by wolves and, now, the cats. “What the fuck?”

“Tally likes you,” Clay told him. “Shut the hell up and get better so she doesn't worry.”

Max grimaced. “How long am I going to be stuck here?”

“Doc said you'll be out end of the week if you do what you're supposed to.”

That made Max happier. “I'll be a boy scout. Happy hunting.”

Clay didn't ask how the man knew they were hunting. “Thanks. We'll give you an update afterward.”

“At least I got one of the fuckers.” Yawning, Max dropped off.

That done, they got into the car and checked in with Lucas, who was keeping an eye on Talin's apartment.