Slave to Sensation (21 page)

“I did discover that they have the ability to change forms from childhood.” That wasn't a secret—most of the Psy had just never bothered to look.

Enrique leaned forward. “Anything is useful.”

“The only other fact you might find of use is that changeling family groups aren't as isolated as we believe.” This was also information in the public domain. “When young alphas leave an established pack to start their own, they usually maintain friendly ties with their parent group.”

“This is excellent, Sascha. You're the first Psy who's been this close to changelings for over a hundred years. Your cooperation will help us to substantially revise outdated information.”

If she didn't know better, she'd have thought Enrique was trying to fashion himself her mentor. At least he was no longer trying to fool her into believing there might be a place for her in the Council ranks.

“If that's all, sir, I have some matters to attend to,” she said, frighteningly aware that the trembling in her left hand had been joined by twinges in her right. If she didn't get out of here soon, her physical deterioration would become impossible to hide.

“I may call on you later tonight—in case you recall something new.” Enrique stood as she did.

She looked at Nikita. “Of course, sir. Mother.” As she headed out, her eye fell on her foot and she saw that in her confusion this morning, she'd put on the boot Julian had chewed. Fear clawed at her.

“Sascha.”

Turning, she tugged at the lapel of her jacket in an effort to hide the subtle trembling of her right hand. “Yes?”

“Your work will bring credit to the Duncan name.” Enrique's shoulder was almost touching Nikita's as they stood side by side.

“You're doing well.” Nikita nodded.

Suddenly, Sascha wondered how much of what her mother had told her earlier was true. Was Enrique really an ally who had to be kept pacified, or were the two of them in league for a far darker purpose? “Thank you.”

This time they let her leave without interruption. The second she was outside the office, she slid her other hand into a pants pocket too. She wanted to head for her apartment but knew she couldn't—Enrique was unlikely to change his mind about seeking her out later. And if he saw her like this, she was as good as dead.

Her hands were trembling uncontrollably and she could no longer ignore the muscle spasms in her legs. Something had gone very wrong in the time since she'd spoken to Lucas. Barely able to think through the panic riding her, she got on the elevator and somehow found her way to her car without running into anyone. Her vision was beginning to blur by that stage and she could feel her heartbeat stopping and starting in a ragged rhythm that scared her.

She almost stumbled as she tried to open the door to her car. It felt as if her body was shutting down, system by necessary system. Fear bloomed a metallic taste in her throat. Then, in a bizarre twist, the urge to laugh almost overwhelmed her. Bare seconds after she closed the door behind her and pushed the button to tint the windows, sadness crashed into her.

Crying uncontrollably, she knew she was on the verge of a major breakdown. The tears were gone as fast as they'd come and her body was suddenly melting in the throes of sensual pleasure. Then bang! She was hit with a load of guilt, of haunting loss. It gripped her throat and she thought she'd choke. A second later, it passed.

Nothing took its place.

Sascha forced herself to think in that fleeting moment of clarity. First, she reinforced her psychic shields. They'd stay up until she died, hiding her from the PsyNet. From her own people. Sorrow mixed with fear and the combination sparked a connection between the splintered neurons of her brain.

Leaning forward, she programmed a destination into the computer, a destination where no Psy would ever go. Then she left a message for her mother explaining her absence. She couldn't chance anyone instigating a search for her. Who knew what condition they'd find her in?

As she steered the car out of the garage, her vision narrowed to a mere pinprick in each eye. She was almost numb with terror but she managed to get the vehicle out onto the streets, where the automatic navigation systems could take over. The moment they did, she hugged her arms around herself and curled up on the seat.

Laughter bubbled out of her but she wasn't happy. Neither was she sad. She was both and she was more. She was angry. Insane. Satisfied. Hungry. Hurt. Glad. Amused. Aroused. Her entire body started to shake, her heartbeat a jackhammer against her ribs.

“Lucas,” she whispered, not even aware that she was speaking. His image flared against her darkening sight but was immediately swallowed by the riot of emotion that crashed into her mind at the speed of light, destroying her ability to think. Pain short-circuited her nerve endings.

Her body arched as she screamed within the insulated confines of the car. Her screams were still reverberating in the vehicle when she lost consciousness, the car skimming smoothly along the streets.

 

 

The safe house was tense. Only the cubs were sleeping. All the maternal females were hyperaware, the soldiers and sentinels pumped with adrenaline. Lucas hadn't heard from Sascha since she'd left that afternoon and he was worried. His beast was prowling the corners of his mind, urging him to track her down. Something had to have gone wrong in her second attempt to surf the PsyNet.

He was standing outside the back door considering how to reach Sascha without tipping anyone off, when a huge white wolf prowled out from the woods behind the isolated property. Beside him, Rina's entire body went tight. “Friend or foe?” she whispered.

He met the wolf 's icy blue gaze. “Go inside.”

“Lucas.”

“Inside.”
It was an alpha command.

Rina went but he felt both her frustration and her fear for him. After making sure she was safe, he trailed the wolf into the woods. It streaked off ahead of him and he let it go, following more slowly until the house was hidden from view. A few seconds later, a man dressed in a pair of faded jeans walked back toward him.

Hawke was muscular and he was lethal. A predator to the core. His eyes were the same icy blue whether he was in wolf or human form, his hair a thick silver-gold that had nothing to do with age. It echoed his pelt. Of all the changelings Lucas knew, it was Hawke who resembled his beast the most in humanity.

“What is it?” It had to be something pretty spectacular for the SnowDancer alpha to have left his people when they were so jumpy. Not only that, he'd come into the heart of DarkRiver territory, to a safe house, crossing an unspoken boundary.

“We found something on our land.” His voice was low. “Our first instinct was to kill but since your scent is all over her, I thought you might be interested.”

“Sascha.” Lucas stared at Hawke. “A cardinal Psy?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she?” A cold sweat threatened to break out over his entire body. He hadn't felt such terror since he'd been a boy watching his parents die. In their current mood, the wolves were likely to gut her while he spoke with Hawke.

“Not far.” Hawke wasn't moving. “Who is she?”

Hawke didn't need to know that Sascha had been the possible leak Lucas had warned him about. “The one who might get us into the PsyNet.” His beast was shoving at the walls of his mind, desperate to get to her.

Hawke's eyes watched Lucas without blinking. “If I find out you've lied to me, cat, all bets are off.”

Lucas allowed a growl to roll up from his throat. “Don't threaten me on my own lands, wolf.” He knew Hawke was dangerous but so was he and the other alpha couldn't be allowed to forget that. “Where is she?”

“Follow me.” Hawke loped off. After several minutes of solid running that would've winded even other changelings, they stopped by a car parked at the end of a hidden lane.

Even from this far away Lucas could smell her. “You left her alone?”

“Would you rather I left her with my pack?” Hawke opened the back passenger-side door. “She's damn lucky it was Indigo who spotted her—the others would've executed her on sight.”

Lucas saw Sascha's slumped form on the seat and felt fury arc through him. “What did you do to her?” Reaching inside, he lifted her in his arms. Her body was limp but she was breathing. Relief almost broke him and it was then that the last pieces of understanding shoved through to his conscious mind. Of course Sascha smelled of him—she was
his
.

“Nothing. She was found like this in her car.” Hawke closed the door. “We hacked open the onboard computer—it was programmed to head into your forests until the engine ran out of power. She must've miscalculated. It crossed the border from your lands into mine before stopping.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. I'll kill her same as any other Psy if Brenna dies.” Hawke's eyes held a cold promise.

Lucas stepped back with Sascha in his arms, admitting to himself that his loyalty now belonged to her. “She's never betrayed us. We'll fight to keep her safe.” It was a declaration of intent. Touch Sascha and DarkRiver would rise against the SnowDancers, destroying the peace they'd worked so hard to achieve.

Hawke went still. “Mated to a Psy, panther?”

Lucas had only now realized the truth—he wasn't about to share it with a wolf. “Don't move against the Psy without talking to us.”

Hawke stared at him for a long, icy moment. “Don't let me down. Brenna's been gone over thirty-six hours already. The single reason I'm letting you run this is because you have a head start. If DarkRiver fails, we take over.”

“DarkRiver doesn't have a habit of failing.”

 

 

The second he walked into the house with Sascha in his arms, things went to hell in a handbasket. Rina hissed and her claws popped out. Nate moved protectively to cover Tamsyn, who clearly didn't want to be protected. Even a recently returned Kit jumped to his feet.

Strangely enough, it was Dorian who came forward.

“What happened? Is she injured?” His concern was as clear as it was unexpected.

“Did the Psy hurt her?” Tamsyn said from around Nate, who was refusing to let her pass. She kicked him but he didn't move. “Let me go, Nate. She's my friend.”

“She was found unconscious in SnowDancer lands.” Lucas took her to the huge wooden table in the center of the kitchen and laid her down.

“And she's alive?” Kit asked, incredulous. “Why didn't they tear her to pieces?”

“I told them she might just be our entry into the PsyNet.” Lucas wondered if despite Nate and Dorian's vows mere hours ago, he was going to have to fight his own pack to protect her. It would rip him apart. His loyalty had always been to Pack. Only ever to Pack. Until now.

“What happened to her boot?” Nate frowned. “It looks like most of mine.”

“That's because Julian decided it tasted good.” Tamsyn finally succeeded in getting out from behind him but it was because Nate had let her go. The healer walked over to the table and placed her hands over Sascha's body before closing her eyes. She didn't open them for several minutes. “I've never had a Psy patient so I don't quite know how to read her patterns. From what I can see, she's in a deep, deep sleep. It's almost like a coma.”

“Will she wake?” The panther's desperation was turning into a kind of numbed pain. If he'd only understood who she was to him earlier, she might not have been hurt.

“I don't know.”

“Could this have been an attack against her by the Psy?” Lucas looked at her lying there and suddenly realized how fragile she was. The Psy were physically much more delicate than changelings but they made up for it with the powers of their mind. Take that away and they were the most breakable of beings.

“It's possible but she's simply too different for me to make an accurate judgment.” Tamsyn pushed back the tendrils of hair escaping Sascha's braid and looked at Lucas. “Why would they attack her and leave her alive?”

“Why would a Psy program her car to go into the most dangerous territory in the state?”

No one had any answers.

Since the beds
in the house were taken, it was decided to leave Sascha on the table where Tamsyn and the sentinels could keep an eye on her throughout the night. They found some blankets and placed them under her, along with a pillow for her head. Lucas covered her with a soft throw after removing her boots.

“Let her sleep.” Tamsyn checked Sascha's pulse. “If she doesn't stir by tomorrow, then . . . I don't know what we'll do. Do we call the Psy? What if they're the ones who did this?” She shook her head and leaned against Nate. “Would Sascha want them to see her like this?”

Lucas didn't answer. He should've been concentrating on the safety of his pack but his attention was on the female lying before him. She was in a world he couldn't enter, a woman he couldn't protect. Just like he hadn't been able to protect another woman he'd loved.

Even after all this time, he couldn't remember his mother's laughter without remembering her screams. Young and weak, he'd watched her fall in a fury of claws and teeth, watched the brilliant light of her life splutter out. Vengeance had cooled the blazing anger inside him but Lucas knew the scars were for always, markers to the lost lives of his healer mother and sentinel father. Those scars had hardened him, but today he'd discovered that they couldn't protect against everything.

Sascha had somehow become firmly lodged inside him, a vibrant presence in the heart of hearts where only a mate could go. Now her light, too, was flickering in a storm he couldn't block, danger he couldn't even see. His helplessness devastated him. He was furious at fate for giving him a mate he couldn't keep safe. Perhaps that was why he'd been willfully blind to a truth the panther had known from the start—he hadn't wanted to suffer as he'd done once before, hadn't wanted to bleed his heart's blood.