The Psy-Changeling Collection (25 page)

“Perhaps I can help you develop them.” He smiled that cold, meaningless smile. “I’m sure Nikita would permit it.”

Sascha felt a hole opening up beneath her feet. “I’ve been tested many times.”

The elevator doors parted in a smooth swish at her back. Enrique glanced over her shoulder and took a small step back, his smile fading. “Latham.”

“Councilor.” The older Psy walked out and around Sascha. “I was told you’d be here.”

“If there’s nothing else, sir . . . ?” Sascha stepped backward into the elevator.

“We’ll continue this later.” Enrique’s expression was bland but there was something piercing about the quality of his gaze.

She fought the urge to collapse as the doors closed, paranoid that every public space was monitored. The Councilor had detected something about her, something that had set him on her trail. He’d be relentless until he’d discovered exactly what it was that had set off his senses and then he’d show her no mercy. She’d seen his star on the PsyNet. There was no emotion there, no feeling, no flaw. Nothing but the coldest intelligence she’d ever glimpsed.

He was the most perfect product of Silence.

Lucas didn’t head
back to the safe house after dropping off Sascha. He had to give the appearance of normality. No one could suspect that the changelings were quietly preparing for possible war.

Leaving his car in the parking lot outside the DarkRiver building, he headed inside to see Zara. She had some things she wanted to talk to him about and he spent a good hour with her. Since she wasn’t leopard, she’d been kept out of the loop. They’d protect her if it came to that, but there was no reason to pull her into the mess. Not yet.

Because of that, she was continuing on with her designs, unaware the buildings might never be erected. On the other hand, if they averted disaster by finding Brenna alive, this deal could become vitally important.

Despite those thoughts, his mind was almost fully focused on Sascha. Just what was she planning? There’d been something very determined in her gaze as she’d stepped out of his car, and he wasn’t sure he’d liked the look of it. She was a stubborn female.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t breakable.

He knew she was going to put herself in danger and it infuriated him that he had no right to stop her. The beast in him growled, wanting those rights. The human half didn’t disagree. He’d had it with trying to be civilized. Sascha Duncan was about to be marked.

“Lucas?”

He looked up to find Clay at the door. Excusing himself from Zara, he walked with the sentinel until they were out of earshot. “What is it?”

“We might have a lead. One of the wolf juveniles broke the rules and went goofing off downtown—he’s swearing up and down that he smelled Brenna’s scent near a building.”

Lucas’s hackles rose. “Strong?” Surely the serial couldn’t be keeping Brenna in the city.

“No. Weak. Like it had come off someone who’d been near her.” He handed over the address to Lucas. “Since the building was a Psy one, the kid freaked out.”

Lucas somehow knew what the piece of paper was going to say. “The Duncan HQ.” Sascha was in there right now. His instincts screamed at him to go and get her out but he knew that drawing that kind of attention to her might get her killed. “Did he catch anything else?”

Clay shook his head.

Lucas looked at the piece of paper again. “If we combine the residents and the day staff, that building handles close to five hundred people daily. Add in the visitors and narrowing things down is going to be almost impossible.” To be so close without being close enough had to be killing the wolves. It was gnawing at him, and Brenna wasn’t part of his pack. “What did Hawke say?”

“His people are trying to get into the building’s mainframe—those Psy high-rises record the IDs of everyone who enters or exits.” The sentinel raised a brow. “Sascha could get that info without any problems.”

“No. She’d leave a wide-open trail leading back to her.” Lucas screwed up the piece of paper in his hand. “Anyone done a physical check?”

“Hawke went in.” Clay’s eyes said it all. “He didn’t find a scent but he believes the juvenile. Kid’s not the kind to make things up.”

Staring at the computer panel built into a desk they were standing near, Lucas made a decision. “I’ll work the computers, too.” It’d give him something to do instead of standing by helplessly while Sascha put her life on the line. “Tell Hawke I’ll let him know if I get anything.”

Clay left without questioning Lucas’s plan. Both of them believed in knowing the enemy. In the case of the Psy, that meant knowing computer systems inside out. The psychic race depended upon computers for everything. It was one of their only physical weaknesses.

But before doing anything else, both man and beast needed to make sure Sascha was safe. He pulled out his phone and punched in her code.

Her cool tones came on the line at once. “Mr. Hunter. What can I do for you?”

“You know the details I asked you to look over? Perhaps you’d better hold off on them.”

“Why? Didn’t you say you needed an answer ASAP?”

“We’ve had indications that there might be a leak in your team. We’d like to change certain elements to ensure commercial security.” He didn’t want her risking herself if the killer was nearby.

“I assure you, our security is foolproof.” She wasn’t backing down. “Please don’t worry about your designs.”

“It’s in my nature to worry. Be careful.” He wanted to reach through the phone and drag her to safety, wanted to keep her within the panther’s protective embrace.

“Always.”

He swore as the phone clicked off. Attempting to hack into the Duncan mainframe didn’t make him forget what Sascha was doing, but it helped keep his mind busy. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that that was precisely what this was—busywork.

The answers to their questions weren’t in any normal computer but in the inaccessible vaults of the PsyNet.

Sascha wondered if
she’d understood Lucas correctly. Had he been warning her to back off because the killer might be in the Duncan building? It should’ve scared her but it didn’t. Where she was going, physical distance mattered little and death could come far more swiftly than a murderer’s slicing blade.

For the first time in her life, she was going to try to hack the PsyNet, quite possibly the biggest information archive in the world. Every Psy automatically linked into the PsyNet at the moment of birth. There was no way to escape it. However, because the Psy were viciously practical businesspeople, they were all taught how to put up firewalls to hold off unwanted intrusions.

The firewalls kept the gigantic PsyNet at bay by isolating the Psy’s mind. However, all Psy fed data into the Net and some chose to live with complete openness to it. These individuals were considered extreme. It wasn’t practical or efficient to live with information constantly filtering into your mind.

By the same token, tough firewalls were considered a sign of Psy strength. No one had raised a brow when, as a child, Sascha had begun building the strongest firewalls anyone had ever seen. As she’d grown, her firewalls had become ever more sophisticated.

It was the one thing she’d always excelled at, as if shielding skills had been imprinted upon her before birth. Other Psy had even come to her for training. She’d taught them many things but had kept back a few secrets, which, if discovered, might get her hauled before the Psy Council.

Though privacy was allowed and even encouraged, the NetMind was always aware of each and every individual in the Net. If a mind dropped out, the Psy was physically located and, in 100 percent of cases, was found to have either died or been damaged so badly that their mind had withdrawn as a prelude to death. Those were the only acceptable ways to leave.

Sascha hadn’t figured out any other way. But she had discovered how to mask her presence, how to move within the Net without alerting the NetMind. As a child she’d played the mental game instinctively—perhaps she’d already known that one day she’d need to hide or lose her life. Back then she’d gone nowhere a child wouldn’t go, so even if she’d been caught, no one would’ve thought to punish her. They would’ve simply put it down to a developing cardinal’s somewhat erratic powers.

The older she’d grown, the better she’d become at “ghosting.” The trick involved shadowing another mind, thereby gaining entrance to the mental rooms of information the shadowed mind had clearance for. No hacking of the shadowed mind was required.

Ever since she’d realized she was close to the edge, she’d been shadowing people who might have access to the sealed records of the Center. It had been an attempt to fight the nightmare she’d glimpsed in her childhood. She’d wanted to prove to herself that her child’s mind had exaggerated the awfulness of the place. What she’d discovered had so horrified her, she’d started to look for minds who might know how to escape the Net and survive.

And had found nothing.

Tonight she was going to try to ghost a Council member. If she was found out, it would mean an automatic death sentence. The trick wasn’t going to be easy, notwithstanding the fact that not all of the Councilors were cardinals.

Cardinals were often so cerebral, they cared nothing for politics. Conversely, some noncardinal Psy had extraordinary defensive and attacking qualities that made them as dangerous as the most highly trained cardinals. Every one of the Councillors fell into the lethal category.

Taking a deep breath, she put her communication console on mute and sat down cross-legged on her bed. Loneliness enclosed her in silence. After spending so much time with changelings, she felt lost at the absence of touch, of laughter, of contact.

She missed Lucas Hunter most of all.

Something flickered in her mind and she felt the brush of fur against her cheek, the whisper of trees in her mind, the scent of the wind in her nostrils. A second later, the moment was gone. Had it been a sensory memory or . . . ?

She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. Her panther was relying on her. They all were. A woman’s life hung in the balance . . . and she was no longer so sure about the innate goodness of her people.

Closing her eyes, she went into her mind. The first thing she did was slip around her own firewall, leaving a vague ghost of her presence inside to fool the NetMind as to the current location of her consciousness. It was a simple ruse that had taken years to perfect.

She stood hidden in the shadow of her own mind. Lights stretched endlessly in every direction that she could see. Some were barely visible, marking the presence of lesser Psy, while others blazed so brightly they were miniature suns. The cardinals. She looked at her own light and wondered at its difference.

The variation had developed around puberty and she’d been good enough at multilayered shielding by then to hide it under a false shell. To the PsyNet, her star blazed the same as the other cardinals’. She alone knew what it really looked like—a rainbow of sparks that shot joyfully in every direction and then coalesced back into her mind. If she’d allowed it to spark without barriers, it would’ve infected the entire Net by now.

Turning away from the hidden beauty of her mind, she looked for her targets.

Nikita’s star was easy to find, bound as she was to Sascha by lines of energy that told the story of their familial ties. Sascha had no intention of ghosting her mother. Not only was Nikita’s mind too attuned to hers, she didn’t think she could handle finding out that her mother was in league with those protecting a killer.

It was something no child should have to bear.

There were six other Councilors. An odd number to ensure that there would never be a hung vote. Marshall Hyde was the most cold-blooded man she’d ever met, his PsyNet star a pinwheel of cutting blades. He was a cardinal and had had over sixty years to refine his talent.

Tatiana Rika-Smythe’s star was the softest light. She tested at 8.7 on the Gradient but that was deceptive. No one took a seat on the Council at such a young age without being ruthless in the way the Psy had patented.

Then there was Enrique. Deep in her soul, she shivered. There had been a personal touch to his recent interactions with her that couldn’t be explained away by what she suspected him of being engaged in with Nikita. She wouldn’t put it past him to lay a trap for her. His was one mind she wasn’t going near.

Ming LeBon was another cardinal. Though less experienced than Marshall, he, too, had had almost thirty years over Sascha to hone his skills. It was rumored that Ming’s particular specialty was mental combat.

Shoshanna and Henry Scott were both around 9.5 on the Gradient. The elegant and graceful Shoshanna was the public face of the Council, the one who appeared on broadcasts to the media and in newspaper articles. She looked fragile and harmless but could be as lethal as a viper.

Henry was her husband. They’d decided on a human-style marriage rather than a Psy reproduction contract in order to make themselves seem more sympathetic to the non-Psy news media. This wasn’t common knowledge. Nikita had told Sascha back when she’d still been grooming her child for a position in the Council networks, before they’d both accepted that Sascha’s flaw was never going to fix itself.