The Psy-Changeling Collection (101 page)

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Because you were out in the forest with my brother.” She unlocked the door and let him prowl in behind her, very aware that for all his determination to restrain his emotions, he’d come searching for her. He kicked the door shut as she fought to contain her joy.

“Hmm.” Walking forward, he fingered a strand of her hair. “So soft.”

She didn’t say anything as he stroked the strands through his fingers over and over, as if attempting to figure out where the high-tech fibers joined her natural hair . . . or maybe he was simply indulging himself.

“Perfect.” He let the strands slide away.

“Do you like it?” she found herself asking despite her better judgment.

“I already told you.”

Perfect.

What she’d taken as a comment on the quality of the extensions had been about her. “Oh.” Feeling a little shy, she nonetheless reached out and hugged him. He went stiff and she suddenly knew it wasn’t a reaction to her touch. Pulling back, she began to push up his T-shirt. “Let me guess, broken ribs?”

“Brenna.” He tried to stop her, but she swatted away his hand.

“Oh. My. God.” The entire left side of his chest was black and blue. “Why aren’t you taped up?”

“I don’t need it.”

She shoved down the T-shirt. “Fine. Be all macho about it.” Then something else occurred to her. Her blood chilled. “Judd, what does Drew look like?”

“Worse.”

“Is he dead?” she forced herself to ask.

“No.”

Relief made her a little light-headed. “I thought you guys played with lasers.”

“We made some new rules.” It was obvious he wasn’t going to tell her any more.

She threw up her hands. “You’re not dead. Drew isn’t dead. That’s good enough for me.” She turned to grab a couple of ice packs from the built-in cooler. “Sit.”

“I said—”

“Sit.”

He sprawled into a chair. When she wrapped the ice packs in a small towel and placed them against his ribs, he didn’t protest. “What is it with men and testosterone?” she muttered, standing in the vee formed by his outstretched legs.

“I don’t think you’d like us without it.” He held the ice packs to his side by pinning them with his arm. “There was no need for this.”

She was about to snap a comeback when she realized he’d come to her precisely because she’d fuss over him, no matter what he must’ve told himself to the contrary. Her throat tightened. “Humor me,” she said, stroking his hair off his forehead. “You need a haircut.” He’d always worn it very short, a sharp military cut.

“I’ll razor it off tonight.”

“Don’t. I kind of like it this longer length.” It brushed his nape, not too long but long enough to run her fingers through.

He looked up to meet her gaze. The moment stretched as she stroked the long front strands to the side. “I could just trim these bits that are getting in your eyes.”

“All right.”

The simple acceptance made her stomach drop, her protective walls collapse. “Are you up for a walk?” She didn’t want to fight with Riley and it was certain that he was going to turn up soon to dress her down for her escape. She couldn’t believe Judd hadn’t said something already. But then again, he hadn’t exactly behaved himself today, either.

He gave her the ice packs. “Wear a coat. It’s already dark.”

“What about you?” The defined strength of his forearms drew her eye. Her hunger to stroke him was almost painful. Why didn’t he feel that same need?

“I’ll get my jacket and meet you at the garden door.”

Ten minutes later, they walked openly past the White Zone and into the inner perimeter—she hoped her brothers would get the hint.

Judd led her to a private spot before stopping. “Talk to me.”

It didn’t surprise her that he knew the real reason she’d asked him to come out here. She took a seat on a fallen log while Judd leaned his muscular form against a tree across from her, seeming to blend into the deep ebony of early evening in the Sierra.

“I’m messing up my family,” she said, admitting the truth. “Drew and Riley—did you see their faces yesterday? They think they’re losing me.” To insanity.

“They’re adults, they’ll deal with it.”

“Will they? Look at how they react every time I try to reclaim my independence.” It was the flip side of their intensely loyal natures, a protectiveness that could destroy.

“They want to keep you safe.”

She stared, incredulous. “You’re taking their side?”

“In this one case, they’re correct. You need to be protected from your own will.” His voice was pure steel. “You could hurt yourself in your rush to fix things.”

“Men!” It was a snarl as she got up and began to pace up and down beside the log. “You’re supposed to support me, remember?”

“Only in public,” he said with cool Psy logic. “If you want total obedience, get a dog.”

She kicked snow in his direction. Caught by surprise, Judd deflected it with Tk. It just made her madder. “That’s cheating.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a test.” He remained unmoving as she strode over to stand in front of him, cheeks flushed red. Things went tight in his body, his skin stretching taut. Such passion in her, such anger. “You’re beautiful,” he said, disregarding the sudden spike of dissonance, the violent warning that he was too close to losing control of the horror that was his “gift.”

She snorted. “I’m not that easily led.”

Scowling, she turned to stride back to the log. His eyes found themselves drawn to the sway of her hips, to the lush bottom encased in tight jeans that showed off every defiant feminine curve. More sparks of pain, further warning signals. But that wasn’t what made him raise his eyes to her face. It was her abrupt stillness.

He straightened, his senses flaring out. “The leopards.” He knew their psychic signature now, could distinguish it from wolf.

“They’re here.” Her voice was a whisper. “And I don’t think they’re happy.”

“Go back and get Hawke. I’ll hold them.”

Not arguing, she turned and took off at high speed. Judd moved in the direction where he’d sensed the DarkRiver leopards. They were waiting on the other side of a small clearing. Lucas, Sascha, Dorian, and Mercy. Mercy, Judd didn’t know well, but he considered Dorian one of the most dangerous changelings in either pack—the DarkRiver male lacked the ability to change into leopard form, but that meant nothing. On the night of Brenna’s rescue, Judd had seen the sentinel tear Enrique to pieces with his bare hands.

“You shouldn’t be here.” They’d broken the rules. The two packs had an alliance and had given each other the right to move freely in their territorial lands, but to come this close to the den with no prior notice was a sign of aggression.

Lucas waved Dorian and Mercy off when they made a move to cover him. But
he
went in front of his mate. Sascha scowled but didn’t say anything.

“If we’d wanted war, we would’ve been in the den by now.” The markings on Lucas’s face—as if he’d been slashed by the claws of some great beast—were dark with blood. “We’re here to talk.”

“Then we wait.” Judd took a position on the other side of the snowy clearing, marking an invisible line in the snow.

One that wasn’t broken when Hawke and his lieutenants arrived. Brenna, too, had returned. She took a position to his left while the others went to his right, flanking Hawke. The SnowDancer alpha took a step forward. “Lucas, this sure as hell better be something good.”

Lucas mirrored Hawke’s move, his face a mask of fury. “There was an attack on the DawnSky deer clan. They were butchered.”

Hawke growled low in his throat. “How many dead?”

“Nine adults, three children.” Lucas’s markings became even more delineated. “Would’ve been more, but Faith had a partial vision and managed to get out a warning. Mercy and Dorian were close enough to intervene. Tamsyn and Nate are out there picking up the pieces.”

Judd watched as Sascha slid her hand into her mate’s, leaning against him but staying partly behind his back—giving comfort while not distracting him by becoming an open target. Lucas’s fingers closed around Sascha’s. “It was a planned slaughter. Six armed Psy against a herd of deer out for a graze.”

Judd knew from living with the wolves that deer were one of the most peaceful of all changelings. They were also very weak in terms of physical strength. “Why?” he asked, though experience told him the presence of a Psy assassin probably infuriated the leopard alpha. “The Council always has a reason—they think five steps ahead.”

Lucas’s voice was close to a growl when he answered. “I went out to the site. There was a pretty slick attempt to mark the bodies as wolf kills—looks like they had weapons shaped to mimic claws. The bodies were shredded, but a very fine scent was somehow layered into two of the deer. Mercy and Dorian must’ve interrupted the murdering bastards before they could do the other bodies.”

“If the deer had all died,” Hawke said, a low growl in his tone, “no one would’ve been left to point fingers at the Psy. It would’ve been on us.”

“Changing your reputation from powerful but fair, to that of indiscriminate killers.” Judd glanced at the sentinels who stood behind Lucas. “Did you tag any of the Psy?”

Mercy looked at her alpha and answered only after his nod. “We saw them leaving but made the choice to help the injured rather than give chase. They hid their trail like experts and the deer are too traumatized to be of much help in terms of descriptions—they’re schoolteachers and accountants, not soldiers.”

“What about Faith, did she see anything?” Judd asked, knowing Faith’s reputation as the strongest foreseer in or out of the Net.

Sascha shook her head. “She’s taking this hard—she saw it after it began. Said she saw the consequences, not the act . . . saw a glimpse of a future drenched in bloodred.”

There was an instant of total silence, then Dorian spoke, his rage more evident than the others’. “One of the kids thinks he saw an insignia on the left shoulder of their uniforms. Snakes. Kid’s terrified of snakes, so he remembered.”

“Now he’s going to be phobic about them,” Sascha said. Her tone was soft but her expression was full of anger.

Lucas turned to brush his lips over her hair. “Sascha wanted to stay with the survivors, but I figured we’d need a Psy perspective. Didn’t know he’d be here.” He nodded toward Judd and the act wasn’t friendly. “Any ideas?”

“Some. Give me a minute.” Death was his only talent after all. “I do know that the snake emblem belongs to Ming LeBon, but that simply confirms the Council link.”

A fine-boned feminine hand slipped into his and he felt it in every cell of his body. He glanced down to find Brenna looking up and giving a small shake of her head. In that moment, time seemed to stop and he knew she was telling him that death was not all he was. He almost believed her. Except even at that second, he was aware of the monstrous thing inside of him. One moment of carelessness and it would crawl out to rain indiscriminate death on those around him. Men. Children. Women.

Hand remaining clasped to his, Brenna turned away, breaking the odd moment. “I’d like to help.” Her words were directed at Sascha.

“I think you’d be very good with the young ones.”

Because, Judd thought, Brenna knew what it was like to be helpless and breakable. He had vowed to ensure she’d never again suffer as she’d suffered in Enrique’s hands, but the scars were already there and they had changed who she was.

“Judd?” Sascha’s cardinal eyes turned to him. “I—”

“Yes,” he said, before she could ask the question.

“I knew that. But I was going to ask how many hours you think you could give me.”

When had Sascha gone from being uneasy around him to believing him “good”? “As many as you need.” He couldn’t heal traumatized minds as she could, but he could feed her extra power, a talent rare among Psy but which seemed to be paired with his little speciality. Some Psy abilities were like that—they came in sets.

“If Bren’s going in, we need to ensure protection. There’s already been one attempt to target her,” Riley said.

“What are you talking about?” Brenna frowned.

Judd looked at the other man. “He’s thinking we were wrong, that maybe the hyenas knew you were at the cabin.”

CHAPTER 22

“How could they?”
Brenna’s brow furrowed.

Riley ignored her. “Judd can’t help Sascha and keep an eye on security, too.”

It was the first time either of Brenna’s brothers had even obliquely acknowledged his skill at keeping Brenna safe. But Judd didn’t take it at face value. Riley was a strategist, a man with cool focus, one who thought disturbingly like a Psy.

“She’ll be fine—I’ve got the deer inside our perimeter, soldiers with them twenty-four/seven.” Lucas shook his head. “But my gut says the Psy won’t attack the same target twice.”

Judd agreed. “They’re using a scattergun approach to divide your resources and weaken you in specific areas, with a focus on eliminating those civilian or nonpredatory groups who might support you. It was a tactic used successfully by the Korean army during the Japan-Korea war.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Any idea what they might do next?”

“There have to have been more pieces. The deer hit is too large an escalation otherwise.”

“If they’ve been taking out lone nonpredatory changelings,”

Hawke said, expression grim, “and laying the blame on us, we might not hear about it. The families of the victims would be too scared to confront us.”

“Brewing resentment.” Brenna’s husky voice, changed forever by the nightmare. As if she had screamed so hard, something in her vocal cords had broken irreparably. “There’s one thing I don’t get, though,” she continued. “I know I’m not a soldier, but we’ve all heard the Council’s dead bodies stay buried.”

“So why the half-assed job this time?” Lucas completed. “Two options. One, Faith was a wild card they didn’t factor in.”

“Or two,” Judd said, “they’ve overstretched themselves by reaching into territory where they’re the neophytes.”

“What’s your take?” Riley asked, still appearing calm in spite of what had taken place the last time they’d spoken.