Slave to Sensation (22 page)

“You will wake up,” he ordered in a harsh whisper, his voice holding the rough edge of a growl. He had no intention of losing what he'd barely found.

 

 

Hours passed. They watched. They waited. Birds began to wake but no Psy swooped down on them. It appeared the SnowDancers had kept their word and that whatever had happened to Sascha, it hadn't been because the Council had learned she was helping them.

Nervous mothers started to relax but the soldiers remained on high alert. Just as the sky began to lighten, Sascha stirred. Lucas ordered everyone but Nate and Tamsyn out of the kitchen.

Her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling for several seconds before sitting up. “How did I get here?”

“The SnowDancers found you in their territory and I brought you here.” He wanted to bare his teeth and mark her. Now that he understood, he had no desire to fight the primitive urges of his beast.

“What? I was supposed to stop in your lands.” She went to push back her hair and froze. “You undid my braid.”

“Yes.” The single word was full of possessiveness.

She looked bewildered and it was the first time he'd ever seen any Psy look that way. “May I have some water?”

Tamsyn was already holding out a glass. Taking it from her, Sascha drank it down. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Tamsyn took the glass back and her eyes met Lucas's. “Maybe I should check on the others.”

“Yes.”

Nate frowned but heard the message. A minute later, Lucas was alone in the kitchen with Sascha. Leaning forward, he did something he'd been aching to do since she'd woken. He lifted her up into his arms and sat down in a chair with her cradled in his embrace.

She froze. “What are you doing?”

“Holding you.” He breathed in the scent of her, tangling one hand in the curls at her waist. “I thought you were dying.
You can't die
.”

As if she understood the anguish he'd gone through, she placed a slender hand hesitantly against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. “I think I was in a deep sleep state. My body is now functioning normally.”

“What happened?”

“I don't know.”

“I can smell a lie.” He felt her tremble in his arms and every protective urge he had surged to the surface. “Speak to me, darling.”

“I'll help you,” she whispered. “I'll help you find the killer, give you everything I have.”

There was a depth of conviction in her voice that hadn't been there earlier. “Why?”

“I have to be at my apartment by noon,” she said, in place of an answer. “That was when I told Mother I'd be back from a trip to see an out-of-town architect with you.”

“We'll get you there.” He squeezed her tight, feeding the need in him, the need for her. “Tell me what happened. I'm not going to stop asking.”

“I lost control of my body,” she said softly. “I've been having problems for months. They always passed without major incident, but this time, it was like my entire system short-circuited. I headed for your lands because I thought I'd be safe from Psy eyes there.”

“You need to be seen by a doctor.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No one can know that I'm starting to crack.”

“It sounds like a physical problem, not a mental one.”

“It isn't. I . . . felt things, Lucas. Things that drove me to unconsciousness. This is coming from my mind.” Her hand clenched against his chest. “If they find out . . .”

He wasn't happy with her not seeing a doctor but knew he had little choice if she'd made up her mind—he'd never had reason to track down a doctor who'd treat Psy patients in confidence. It was something he was going to make it his business to find out. “How're you feeling now?”

“Fine. But I want to shower.”

“All right.” He continued to hold her. Her hunger for touch was so strong, it tore at him. “Sascha, I know you're not like other Psy.” It was time to get the truth out into the open.

Her hand slapped over his mouth. “Don't
ever
say that out loud. Ever. If you have any . . . care for me, don't even think it.” Fear vibrated in her voice. “If anyone overhears, it'll mean my death.”

He kissed the palm of her hand and watched the night sky of her eyes darken in confusion. She jerked the hand away. “You'll have to talk about it soon.”

“I know.” She sat up, pushing away from him. “I'm breaking apart, but before I do, I'll help you.”

“Breaking apart?”

“Madness.” Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't catch the word. “I'm going insane. There's no more hiding from it—I might as well go down in a blaze of glory.” Her eyes met his. “Will you promise me one thing?”

“What do you want?”

“When the madness breaks me, I want you to kill me. Quickly, cleanly, without mercy.”

His heart stopped. “No.”

“You must,” she said, her tone urgent. “If you don't, they'll turn me into the walking dead. Promise.”

He had no intention of killing her. But he could prevaricate as well as the next feline. “I'll kill you if you give in to insanity.” No matter what her fears, there was no hint of mental sickness in her. None. He would've smelled the acrid scent of decay where he only smelled life and hope.

 

 

Sascha walked into the living room after her shower and came face-to-face with a leopard male she had every reason to fear. “Hello, Dorian.”

He stared at her with those eyes of such pure blue it was impossible to believe the darkness that lurked within. “You did something to me.” It wasn't an accusation but a statement of fact. The anger she'd expected was there, but it was a simmering shadow deep inside, not directed at her.

“I don't know what I did, if I did anything,” she told him, her heart in her throat. She'd convinced herself that she'd imagined the entire incident, that it had been part of the encroaching madness. But what if . . . ?

Dorian touched her cheek with his fingertips. Not used to touch from anyone but Lucas, she flinched. His eyes narrowed and he dropped the hand. “No touching?”

“I'm not changeling.” She knew it sounded cold but how else could she explain? “Something so easy for you is . . . difficult for me.”

To her surprise, he reached out to cup her face between his palms as he looked down into her eyes. “I want to see inside you,” he said. “I want to see if you have a heart, a soul.”

“I wish you could, too.” She wasn't so sure herself. Had it been burned out of her during conditioning?

“Dorian.”
Lucas's voice came from her back, startling her. There was a thread of warning in his tone but he didn't interrupt. Not that it mattered. His power was in the air he breathed, in the scent of his skin. He was alpha and she was starting to understand what that really meant.

“I wasn't hurting you, was I, Sascha?” Dorian dropped his hands.

She felt his need, his anguish, his guilt. Taking a step forward, she put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “You only hurt yourself.” The knot of his pain was tight and growing tighter every day. She worried it would explode if he didn't start letting it go. “Stop it, Dorian. Stop punishing yourself for a monster's crime.”

His lashes swept down and when his eyes opened again, he let her see the bloody edge of the fury that drove him. “Not until he's dead. Then we'll talk about it.”

Sascha let go of his shoulder and turned to look at Lucas, a silent plea in her eyes. He shook his head. No one could help Dorian until he was willing.

“Ready to go?” Lucas asked.

She smoothed a hand over her suit, which Tamsyn had ironed for her, and nodded. “Yes.” Fear crawled in from the corners of her mind. Enrique had likely left his spies around. He'd find her the second she walked back in. “I need to have something to give them since I was supposedly with you overnight. They'll expect me to have learned at least one fact.”

Lucas walked closer and though he wasn't touching her, she felt the pressure of his presence. It was as if her body knew his, as if it was reaching out to embrace him though they'd only ever kissed once. Looking into that savage face with its slashing marker, she wondered whether he could see into the torment of her heart.

“Can you stall?” He touched his finger to her cheek, running it down her neck before sliding his hand over her arm to link their fingers together.

Dorian moved to stand in front of them. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm supposed to be a spy,” Sascha said, frayed enough to be blunt. “Part of my mission was to gather as much firsthand information about changelings as I could, and feed it to my mother and Councilor Enrique.”

“How do we know you haven't been doing exactly that?” demanded a female voice from the doorway.

Sascha met Rina's hostile gaze. “You don't. You have no way of tracking the PsyNet.”

The blonde came to a standstill, beside Dorian. “No lies, Psy?” Her eyes flicked nervously to Lucas even as she spoke.

Lucas's fingers tightened on Sascha's hand. “Are you questioning my judgment, Rina?”

“Are you sure you have any?” Rina's voice held defiance. “You brought a Psy into our safe house and you knew she was a mole!”

“Be quiet, Rina.” Dorian's voice was harsh.

The other woman clenched her fists. “What? I'm not allowed to ask questions anymore?”

Lucas let go of Sascha's hand. “There's a fine line between asking questions and going too far.”

“I have a right to know what's going on.” Rina's eyes were trained on Lucas, no longer interested in Sascha. They all knew who the most dangerous person in the room was and he was concentrating solely on Rina.

“No, you don't.” There was no mercy in Lucas's response. “You were made a soldier earlier this year. Your rank is so low you shouldn't even be part of this conversation.”

Sascha was stunned by the flatness of that declaration. She'd never heard Lucas sound so autocratic, almost cruel. He'd clearly hit Rina where it hurt—her pride. As she watched, Dorian moved to flank his alpha. Rina was left alone on the other side.

“Lucas,” Rina began, her voice shaky, “why are you being like this?”

“Because you've shown me that being soft on you was a mistake.” He gripped her chin between his fingertips. “You haven't earned the right to speak to me like you just did. Do you understand?”

Rina's eyes welled up. For the first time, Sascha realized how young the female was, something her boldness had masked. Feeling sorry for her, she tried to move forward, but Lucas's furious glance stopped her in midstep. He turned back to look at Rina.

“You're a low-rank soldier,” he repeated. “Your job is to follow orders. Dorian, where is Rina supposed to be?”

“Standing watch on the left side of the house with Barker.” Dorian's tone was considerably harsher than Lucas's, a whip of vibrating anger.

“So you can't even follow orders.” Lucas let go of the girl's chin. “Do you think we posted you there for fun?”

Mute, Rina shook her head. Sascha could feel waves of humiliation and shock coming off the girl. That alone told her neither of the men had ever before spoken to her like this. Unable to remain silent any longer, she said, “I think that's enough.”

“Stay out of this.” The markings on Lucas's face stood out in stark relief. “This is Pack business.”

Her hurt at the clear exclusion was beyond proportion. “Do you usually rule by humiliation?”

“This isn't the perfect, clean world of the Psy. Cruelty is sometimes necessary.” He looked back at Rina. “This isn't the first time you've disobeyed a direct order. You want to be independent that much, I'll let you walk away from DarkRiver.”

Rina shook her head. “No.” It was a whisper.

“Then do the job you're supposed to.” He glanced at Dorian. “She's under your command as of now. Don't sleep with her like Barker did. It's obviously affected his ability to treat her like a soldier.”

“Don't worry. Spoiled little girls aren't my type.”

Sascha saw the girl's face turn bright red and her lower lip start to tremble. “Stop it, both of you.”

“Dorian, take Rina and close the door behind you.”

Without a word, the other two leopards left. Sascha waited until the door was closed to speak her mind. “How could you do that to her? Nothing she said was bad enough to merit that ritual shredding of her pride.”

“She questioned my authority.” He reached out to touch her face but she pulled away. His jaw tightened.

“No one has the right to do that? You're protected from scrutiny?”

“There are men and women in this pack who've bled for me, who've followed orders to walk into dangerous territory without a single question.
They've
earned the right to say what they think about me.” Anger flickered in the green of his eyes. “Vaughn, Clay, Mercy, Tammy, Dorian, Nate, Desiree, Cian, Jamie, and even that idiot Barker are some of the ones who have the right to question my decisions. Rina doesn't.”

“Why?” She was still angry for the put-down he'd delivered to the girl. It felt too much like what people had done to her—not good enough to be a cardinal, not powerful enough, not anything enough to matter. “Aren't you supposed to be a family?”

“Families have hierarchy.” He pulled her into his embrace with such speed that she couldn't escape. She froze, wondering if this was a good time to show him that she had a few tricks he didn't know about. “The safety of the entire family depends upon that hierarchy being followed.”