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Authors: Nalini Singh

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BOOK: Slave to Sensation
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“Tamsyn—what role does she occupy in your pack?” she said, changing the subject so quickly that he knew he'd been right. “I know you're hierarchical.”
“Exactly like the Psy. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.” If she clammed up to such a simple request, then he was going to have to rethink his strategy. He needed to get inside a Psy mind to get into the PsyNet. There was no other way to track the killer, not if the Psy Council was covering for him.
“Our overall leadership is in the Council.”
He tried to keep his exhilaration under control. “We have no overall leadership. Each pack is autonomous.”
“Within the overall structure we're organized by family groups.”
They hadn't known that for sure because to the outside world, the Psy concept of family looked like any other business relationship. “Family ties exist within the pack but ultimate loyalty is to the pack itself.”
“What about mated pairs?” she asked, displaying an insight into the changeling mind that startled him. “Surely their loyalty is to each other first.”
“That's the one caveat. Leopard changelings mate for life so no other option is workable.” He wondered what she'd make of that, this woman who'd been created by medicine not passion. “What about the Psy? Where is your loyalty?”
“The good of our people,” she said. “We're allowed to compete with other families for business, but that's on the inside. Against outsiders we have only one loyalty.”
“To ensure the continuation of the Psy race.”
“Yes.” Shifting in her seat, she asked him another question he wasn't expecting. “Mating for life? Is that a choice like human marriage?”
“Actually, changelings and humans can mate. Several of my pack are mated to humans.” Children from such matches always had the ability to change forms.
“I've heard that Psy-changeling unions occurred in the past.”
“My great-great-grandmother was Psy.” He glanced at her. “Do you think I would've made a good Psy?”
She stared at him for a second before saying, “Perhaps you should watch the road.” Cool, practical, and without feeling. Except for the fact that the toe of her boot had been chewed by baby leopard teeth.
He obeyed her this once. “To answer your question, no, it's not a choice like marriage—at least not for the leopards.
Once we find our mate, the only choice we have is whether or not to take the final step. There's no walking away after that's done.”
“What's the final step?”
“Tell me about the PsyNet.”
She paused. “It is secret?”
“It is private.”
“How do you find your mate? How do you know that he or she is the one?” Her tone was neutral but her questions held hints of the deepest curiosity.
He wondered if she'd be this inquisitive in all aspects of life. A curious lover was the ultimate lure to his panther soul. “I can't answer that—I'm not mated.” He'd seen his father's heart shredded by his mother's death. Part of him didn't want to be that vulnerable to anyone.
It was one of the reasons he'd never nurtured a long-term relationship with any female, human or changeling. Mating couldn't be so easily influenced, but he'd done his damnedest to limit the chances of his mate finding him.
If she did hunt him down despite that, he'd accept her and then he'd never let her out of his sight. Forget about freedom—his mate was going to be protected every moment of her life. Pulling to a stop in the parking lot of the DarkRiver building, he switched off the engine and slid up the door of the car.
“Do you want to be?”
The question had him turning to face those night-sky eyes. No Psy should've ever asked that. No Psy should've ever heard the ambivalence in his voice. “Do
you
?”
“Is it private?” She tipped her head slightly to the side.
It was a tiny movement but it wasn't in the nature of her race to make such movements.
He reached out and stroked a finger down her face, wanting to see what she'd do. “I'll tell you the answer to that once you have skin privileges.”
She froze at his touch and then jerked away to exit the car. When he joined her on the other side, she kept at least a foot of distance between them. He wanted to close that distance badly enough to scare himself. The enemy was starting to look far too enticing. The feel of her skin had been a jolt to the senses, the dark honey like warm gold brushed with velvet, sensuous and luscious.
The panther in him craved more, while the man . . . the man was starting to think that Sascha Duncan was unique, a Psy unlike any other. Whether that made her less dangerous or more remained to be seen. What
was
clear was that both panther and man were captivated by her.
 
 
Kit was waiting for them in the meeting room. “Hi, Lucas.” At a fraction under six feet, the boy was tall but hadn't yet filled out. Not that it mattered at his age. With his rich auburn hair and dark blue eyes, he was never short of female company. But Lucas knew the juvenile was more than good looks—he had the scent of a future alpha.
“Sascha Duncan, meet Kit Monaghan.”
Kit smiled in that way he'd already learned brought most women to their knees, all slow burn and promises of delight. “A pleasure.”
Sascha nodded. “Do you have the designs?”
Lucas wanted to laugh at the crestfallen look on the boy's face. “Kit works part-time as a general assistant. Zara is the designer.” He shrugged out of his jacket.
As he spoke her name, a small female with mocha skin and cloud gray eyes walked in through the door behind them. Sascha immediately shifted to avoid contact but the move was so unobtrusive that neither Zara nor Kit noticed.
“I'm sorry I'm late,” Zara said. “The copying machine got stuck.” She was holding rolled-up copies of several designs in her arms. Lucas helped her put them on the circular table and gestured for everyone to be seated.
Sascha took a seat to his left, with Zara to her left and Kit beside the designer. Lucas had noticed Sascha glance at Zara several times since she'd entered the room and so, apparently, had Zara. “If you have a problem working with me, tell me now.” The petite woman wasn't one to keep silent.
Sascha didn't react in any physical way but he was sure he smelled confusion. “Why would I have trouble working with you? Are you unable to do your job?”
“I can do my job fine,” Zara bit out. “Some people just don't like the fact that I'm a darker shade of brown.”
“That reaction is based on nothing but human emotion. I'm not human.” Sascha pushed up her jacket sleeve. “If it soothes you then please see that I'm also a . . . darker shade of brown.” The beautiful rich honey of her skin seemed to glow even in the artificial light.
Lucas felt Kit's beast buck at the reins and couldn't blame the boy for wanting to touch. Sascha's skin was an invitation to the senses and now that he'd stroked it once, he found himself starving for more.
Zara laughed. “If you're not bothered by color, then why are you staring at me?”
“I'm not sure, but you don't appear to be a leopard.”
Lucas froze. There was no way a Psy should've picked up on that.
No way
. Scenting another animal was a changeling trait. Precisely what the hell kind of Psy was Sascha? Had he brought a spy into his world while trying to infiltrate hers?
Zara didn't answer until he gave her a subtle nod. “I'm not. I'm a distant cousin—wildcat.”
“Then why are you working in a leopard business?”
“Because she's the best there is.” Lucas drew Sascha's attention back to him. Part of it was because he thought her far too dangerous to leave to anyone else. But part of it was because he didn't like her being fascinated by anyone or anything except him. Given his possessive nature, that could turn out to be a problem. A big one.
“Did you have to give her permission to work here?”
There was a reason changelings didn't give away information to the Psy—it had to do with survival. However, this tidbit was common knowledge. “Once I'd enticed her to join us, I had to ensure her safety.” To guarantee that, he'd “adopted” her into DarkRiver for the duration of her stay. She was marked by the scent of him and his sentinels so that enemies and friends alike knew who she belonged to.
If she hadn't been . . . There was a reason predatory changelings were very careful about straying into areas controlled by other predators. Enforcement officers had no jurisdiction in intrachangeling disputes, and the changeling way of settling things could be savage.
It occasionally put them on the back foot in terms of business because the Psy could move much faster. But it balanced out in the end—unlike the Psy, they had an open-and-shut friend-enemy line. There was no backstabbing. His race preferred to go straight for the throat.
“Let's see the designs, Zara,” he said, wanting Sascha off this topic. Most of her race thought of changelings as lesser beings who'd somehow clawed their way to enough power to hold back the Psy. He'd never before met one who seemed to respect their ways enough to want to learn them. Was she merely curious by nature or was she the advance guard of a subtle invasion, feeding everything she learned into the PsyNet?
Zara rolled out one plan. “This is the design for the first home.”
“The first?” Sascha asked. “They aren't all going to be the same?”
Kit stared. “Of course not. Who'd want to live in something that sterile? It'd be like a stack of those coffins the Psy live—” Suddenly appearing to realize who he was talking to, he turned bright red.
“Take your foot out of your mouth.” Lucas tried not grin. “Changelings are different from the Psy, Sascha. We like things that are ours alone, things that are unique.” His eyes met the night-sky glimmer of hers and he wondered if she felt what he did. It was as if a thin wire connected them, vibrating with their unacknowledged awareness of each other. “We don't share well.” Lucas was the worst of the lot. What was his, was
his
.
“I see.” She paused for a moment. “Will this delay the completion date?”
“No. We've factored that into account.” He nodded at Zara to continue.
“Since this area is controlled by leopards and wolves, I've designed the houses mostly for them.” Zara pointed out the wide-open living spaces and the easy access whether on human or animal feet. “But I've got a few plans for the nonpredatory species.”
“How likely are they to want to settle in with the cats and the wolves?” Once again, her question displayed disturbing insight.
“That's the thing,” Zara said. “They're not very likely to. I mean, we don't attack nonpredatory changelings without provocation, but if you were a deer, would you want to live next door to a leopard who might get peckish one night?” It was the blackest of changeling humor.
Kit grinned. “Yum, yum. I love deer shish kebab.”
Sascha looked at him as if examining a bug. To his credit the juvenile didn't fidget and even tried out his smile again. Sascha's response was to shut her eyes for three seconds. When she opened them, she said, “I've been given the authority to veto or accept designs. Please show me the ones you think will work the best.”
Before Zara could speak, Sascha asked another question. “How likely are the wolves and the leopards to coexist peacefully? I don't want to waste money building for the wolves if they're not going to go near the leopards and vice versa.”
This was beyond unusual. Lucas knew he had to start looking
very
carefully at this slender Psy who thought disturbingly like a changeling. He said, “We've declared a truce that allows us to live together without major bloodshed. The bulk of the residents will be leopards but there'll be enough wolves for it to be worth planning for them. There's a shortage of homes for both species.”
This was because the Psy owned a lot of building enterprises and they built the coffins Kit had mentioned—small, compact homes no self-respecting predator would go for. The Duncan family had been the first to grasp the need for changeling involvement in the initial phases of a development. In order to lure the hunters, the beasts of prey, you had to think like them.
Zara chose that moment to speak. “This is the design I like for the cats and this for the wolves.” She put two fairly basic plans on the table. “I'm going to customize from there to take the land, the views, and the available runs into account. For a few homes, I'll begin from scratch in order to match the client's personality.”
Sascha studied the designs. “To do that you'd have to know who was going to be the purchaser.”
“We've already got a waiting list of prospective buyers.
Their money is sitting in our trust account.” Lucas watched Sascha's eyes as she looked up and caught the momentary flicker in the stars that lit them from within. Surprise, baby, he felt like saying.
“What?”
“It's the first new development that's being designed and built by changelings.” He shrugged, fully aware it made the musculature of his shoulders stand out under his T-shirt. Like any cat, he liked to be admired, but this time it was a deliberate attempt to make Sascha react.
She looked away. “So you already knew you'd fulfill your part of the bargain when you negotiated the bonus.”
“Of course.”
“I consider myself bested.” But when she glanced at him, he saw anything but meek acceptance.
Good thing he'd never liked easy prey.
BOOK: Slave to Sensation
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