Slave to Sensation (39 page)

Futility darkened her expression. “Damn you for being so stubborn!”

“Accept.”

Her shoulders fell. She shot back along that bond, dropping the barriers she'd erected in an effort to prevent their mating. Suddenly, she was a rainbow inside him, a sparkling fountain of such beauty that he felt blessed to have been allowed to see her. For one instant, their minds were one and he saw how desperately, how wildly, how unreasonably she loved him—enough to break a promise, to choose death so he could live.

She saw how much her panther adored her, how his heart beat for her alone, how life would turn into death after she was gone. The beast was angry at her for attempting to deny him his mate, and the man was beyond angry, but beneath the anger was hunger, need,
love
. Such intense, furious love that it had no beginning and no end.

She pulled back with a gasp, allowing their two minds to separate, allowing them to think private thoughts once more. Somehow, Lucas knew that if he should ever ask, she'd open to him again. She was his and he was hers. They had under-the-skin privileges.

Those dark eyes looked up at him. Tears streamed down her face. “I've killed you. I've killed you. I've killed you!”

 

 

Sascha knew Lucas was enraged with her but she was too mad to care. How could he have forced her into this? It didn't matter that the mating bond wasn't controllable. As far as she was concerned, if he'd accepted her choice, if he'd let her go, it wouldn't have come into being. Even now, she was sucking his life away so she could be healthy and strong. Her life at the price of his. Damn him!

Ten hours had passed since the plan had been successfully executed. Depleted by his attempt at trapping her, Enrique's powers hadn't been strong enough to withstand the changelings. Improbably, he'd kept Brenna caged in his large soundproofed apartment, safe because no Psy could feel her pain. She was alive. The SnowDancers and DarkRiver's soldiers had also ensured Sascha's safety. No one was going to be hunting her or the changelings.

“We took what was due us,” Hawke told her in the living room of the safe house. His gaze included Dorian. “And we left them a message. Should anything ever happen to you, we'll go after each and every one of the Council, no matter who it was that set the dogs on you. What we did to Enrique will seem like a picnic.”

“How can you be sure that'll keep them contained?” Sascha knew the Council too well.

“The message we left,” Hawke said, his eyes pure blue flame. “It was stapled to Enrique's tongue. Tatiana Rika-Smythe got the tongue in a velvet jewelry box inside her bedroom. Nikita got the remainder of the head.”

She couldn't breathe. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Hawke continued his bloody narrative.

“The Councilors outside the immediate area have been promised personal delivery of a piece of Enrique—I'm thinking we'll leave the gifts on their pillows.”

Sascha felt her gorge rise. She gripped Lucas's hand. “How could you . . . ?”

“We did nothing to him he didn't do to our women,” Dorian gritted out. “We did less—he raped their minds!”

She looked at him, felt his anguish—anguish that vengeance hadn't calmed—and knew he needed her to accept what he'd done. She was his alpha's mate and for the first time, she saw what that entailed. Not quite sure what she was doing, she crossed the room and took his face in her hands. He stilled. When she brushed her lips over his, a sigh seemed to ripple through his body.

Lucas didn't growl,
didn't act territorial. She was his and this was part of what the pack would need from her. Touch. Love. Affection. Sometimes the best way to give affection to the strongest males was with a simple kiss. They'd accept that when they might reject words of care. How she knew that was a mystery to her.

As she drew back, she felt a stab in her heart. Dorian was looking at her as if she belonged, as if he was sure of her, as if she was Pack. She was. For the next couple of months. Until she dragged Lucas down with her into unconsciousness and death.

“That's not everything,” Hawke said, when she turned to him again. “We made sure they knew we're aware of violence in the Psy populace. Enrique confessed quite prettily on camera. Liked to talk.”

“They can't have that getting out.” Sascha watched her mate walk toward her and felt something low and hot in her tighten. Anger was no barrier against the passion he could arouse in her. “Silence would be deemed a failure.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” Tamsyn said.

“Only if there's something to take its place. To spread this information without having any way to manage the fallout would be irresponsible.” She shook her head.

“This big a shockwave could cripple thousands of innocents. When something happens on the psychic plane, it has physical effects.” She knew that too well. Nothing had prepared her for the agony she'd suffered.

Lucas walked around to her back and hugged her against him. “I wonder how they'll explain your presence out of the Net?”

“We suggested they tell people a difference in her mind made her susceptible to mating with a changeling and that was how she dropped out.” Hawke shrugged. “Doesn't matter to us so long as they don't touch her.”

“It's going to shake things up regardless of how they do it.” Lucas's arms were solid muscle around her. Nothing had ever felt as good.

Sascha knew the leopards and wolves had achieved the impossible—they'd leashed the Council. It was a bittersweet victory.

 

 

The wolves asked Sascha to come to their hideout three days later, bare minutes after she'd finished speaking with Nikita. Her mother had informed her that she'd been officially cut off from the Duncan family group.

“You're no longer Psy. Your mind is too flawed. It couldn't even hold on to the link with the PsyNet. Obviously, you were never meant to be a part of it.”

So that was how the Council was spinning it. “No, Mother. I'm perfect.”

Nikita didn't blink. “The deal with DarkRiver—we'd like it to continue. Lucas Hunter's odd . . . connection with you is why we allowed you to leave the Net. One flawed Psy wasn't worth destroying business ties with the cats and the wolves.”

Sascha got the message. Business was something every Psy could understand. “We have no problem honoring the deal.” Then she ended the call and let herself cry.

Lucas held her and when the wolves sent for her, he didn't try to stop her from doing what she had to do.

“Brenna's dying,” Hawke said the second they entered the tunnels.

Sascha thought of the incredibly powerful will she'd touched once in the darkness. “No.” She refused to let that light go out. “Take me to her.”

Brenna lay in a soft bed covered by a cerulean blue blanket. Tamsyn and another woman, who Sascha assumed was the SnowDancer healer, stood talking quietly in one corner of the bedroom. Tammy's eyes pleaded with her to do something.

Making a silent promise, Sascha looked back at Brenna. Her hair had been cut brutally short, as if someone had tried to rob her of her femininity. Bruises covered her face and ringed her neck, but Sascha didn't see all that. What she saw was the flickering candle of Brenna's mind.

She cupped her healer's hands around that flame.
Don't give up now, Brenna.

Silence.

You lied.
A whispery accusation.

You said Pack would come for me.
Pain and betrayal.
But I'm alone.

Sascha blinked and looked to Hawke. “Was she conscious when you found her?”

“No. The human medics said they couldn't do anything for her so we brought her home.” Human medics because none of them trusted the M-Psy anymore.

“She doesn't know she's home. Talk to her. Touch her.”

The wolf didn't argue. Walking to the bed, he began to caress Brenna's bruised face with disarming gentleness, reminding her of nothing so much as a father with his child. Brenna's two brothers moved to join him, one taking her hand, the other kneeling down beside the bed to stroke her spiky hair. There was something heartbreaking about seeing three predatory males, used to protecting their women, trying to be strong while their souls were being torn to pieces.

Inside the darkness of Brenna's mind, Sascha whispered,
You're home, Brenna.

A silence so full of terrified hope that Sascha shivered.

They found you. They avenged your honor.
She was mated to an alpha Hunter. She knew the value of vengeance, the importance of honor, the power of loyalty.
Don't make them wait any longer—I think their hearts are going to break.

I can't bear any more.
Tears sounded in every word.
What if this is a dream, you're a dream, and I wake to him? I might never escape again and I'm so tired.

Sascha thought about who Brenna had been before Enrique, about who she still was deep in her soul. She thought of Rina and Mercy, of their will, their pride.
You have so much heart it humbles me and you fought a brave fight. If you want to slip into the last sleep, no one will judge you. You've earned your peace.

Then choose to live.
Sascha wasn't playing games. She'd told the absolute truth—Brenna had earned her right to die.
We miss you.

I'm Sascha, mate to Lucas Hunter and a healer of DarkRiver.
She was no longer a woman who belonged nowhere, no longer part of a race that would've punished her for her gift. Pride shimmered in her tone. Accepted, more than accepted by her new family, she'd never mourn who she'd once been.

So was I, Brenna.
She reached out and hugged the girl's floundering spirit.
What is broken can be healed.

Help me.
The voice was resolute, that flickering flame settling to a slender column of purity.
I won't give in to death. Help me wake up to reality . . . whatever that might be.

Pride for the young woman's courage mixed with anguish for the pain she'd suffered, but Sascha let her feel only the pride.
I'm here.
Slowly, she guided Brenna's broken mind through the shreds of her spirit.

Can this ever be fixed?
Brenna asked, aware of the extent of the damage that had been done to her.

I was born to heal you.
And if it took every second of the remainder of her time on this Earth, she
would
heal Brenna.

Sascha opened her eyes perhaps an hour after she'd spoken to Hawke, and found herself sitting on the bed beside Brenna, her hand in the young woman's. She had no recollection of moving there, or of clasping her other hand with Lucas's. Brenna's brothers and Hawke surrounded the bed, touching their packmate wherever they could.

“Wake up, Brenna.” Sascha brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. As she sat back up, the girl's eyelids fluttered and then opened. Wary eyes met Sascha's. With a smile, Sascha said, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Brenna blinked. One of her brothers choked back a cry and pushed in front of Sascha to cup his sister's face with hands that were consciously gentle. “Bren? God damn it, Bren, you had us worried to death.”

Over the top of Riley's head, Sascha met brown eyes filled with so much joy it was almost blinding. She got off the bed and let Lucas hold her. Now it was time for the wolves to heal Brenna, to cover her in their love and affection. Sascha would return to help her repair her mind and soul, but for today, this was enough.

“Let's go home,” she said to Lucas.

He ran his knuckles down her cheek and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Still mad, Sascha darling?”

“Yes.” Her hug was fierce. She lived with guilt every day of her life for condemning him to death.

 

 

A week later, she picked up Julian and rubbed his belly. The little cub growled and asked for more. Laughing, she gave him what he wanted. Tammy was out of town for the day and when she'd asked Sascha to look after the cubs, she'd jumped at the chance. They'd turned up at Lucas's lair as two adorable boys in blue jeans and T-shirts, but minutes later, she'd found two cubs chewing on her boots.

“You look like you're enjoying yourself,” Lucas said from the doorway, a strained smile on his face.

She knew the reason for the strain. It was her. She was so angry with him for what he'd done and he felt it. How could he not? He was bonded with her. She watched him pick up Roman and let the cub claw playfully at his T-shirted chest, and knew she had to give up the anger.

How long did they have left? One month, maybe two. Her man was extraordinary and he knew how to love, how to feel, how to fight for his mate with every emotion he had in him. If he hadn't fought so hard, if he hadn't forced her hand, he wouldn't be the man she adored so hopelessly.

“I love you, Lucas,” she whispered.

His eyes turned cat-green. “No more claws, kitten?”

She shook her head. “I'm so glad for you.”

He looked like he wanted to walk over and kiss her till she begged for mercy. Except they had two squirming cubs in their arms. Looking at each other, they started to laugh. Started to live.