The Psy-Changeling Collection (269 page)

A single word that turned the air blue. Pulling out the hand he had between her legs, he grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Now,” he murmured, eyes locked with her own, “where were we?” His free hand slid back down, over the twisting ache in her navel, under the edge of her panties, and—

“That’s not fair,” she somehow managed to gasp.

A kiss that stole her breath. “Who said anything about playing fair?” He rubbed lightly at her cleft, making her entire body clench. “Will you let me in, Katya?”

She shook her head. “No, you should be punished for teasing me.” But her body was already silken with welcome for him, her flesh lusciously damp.

“Please?” Another kiss, another intimate touch. And she found herself arching into the finger he stroked gently inside her. The sensation was the most exquisite pleasure-pain, as if her nerve endings were on overload. But instead of wanting less, she wanted more. More and more. Here, in his arms, the torturer’s dark room seemed light-years away. How could nightmares invade when there was so much heat, so much feeling?

“That’s it,” he murmured against her throat as he kissed his way back up to her mouth. “Move on me.”

She couldn’t stop the strangely fluid movements of her body—part of her knew what to do, how to do it. “More,” she ordered, nipping at his ear.

“You’re too tight.”

“
More
.”

Groaning, he slid a second finger inside her and pumped once. Twice. Pleasure and pain, a stretching ecstasy. Her arousal peaked, hovered there, waiting, waiting . . . His thumb brushed her clitoris.

Everything exploded.

She felt the back of her head connect with wall as she threw it back, heard Dev’s bitten-off curse, sensed her muscles clenching convulsively around him as the orgasm tore her apart. None of it mattered. For the first time in her life, there was so much pleasure coursing through her body that she was delirious with it.

Dev watched
Katya’s face fill with pleasure and wanted only to undo the zipper on his jeans and take her. But no way in hell was he doing that with Tag and Tiara down the hall, not to mention Cruz. It had been hard enough to keep things quiet this long. A little more and his control would be shot to smithereens.

But no matter that they hadn’t consummated their attraction, they’d crossed a line tonight and there’d be no going back from it. His jaw set. He would fight for her, for the woman who’d woken from that hospital bed and started to battle for her right to live. No one would take that right from her.

Soothing her down from the sexual high, he carried her to the bed. Heavy-lidded eyes opened to give him an inherently sensual look as he laid her down. “What about you?” Fingers trailing over his chest.

He caught her hand. “Later.” Pressing a kiss to her lips, he thought he glimpsed a fleeting shadow, but when he looked up, her eyes were closed as she gave in to the kiss. “I have to go.” He’d have given anything to spend the night by her side, but he needed to sit down and go over the implications of the previous day’s conference call. The agitators were becoming more and more vociferous. Something had to be done—but how could he embrace a “solution” that would rip his people apart from within?

Katya’s fingers on his cheek. “You have so much weight in your eyes, on your shoulders. I wish I could share it with you.”

The honest offer made something clench in his chest. Bracing himself on one elbow so he could look down into her face, he echoed her hold. “That you made the offer is enough.”

He wondered what it would be like to have someone of his own, someone he could trust absolutely. The irony was, the only woman he could see in that role was the one woman he couldn’t ever trust. “Get some rest,” he said, brushing her hair off her forehead. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Tomorrow. Good night, Dev.”

He wondered if she’d been about to ask him to stay before thinking the better of it. The sense of loss lay heavy on his shoulders as he got off the bed and picked up his T-shirt. Then, unable to simply leave, he moved back to the bed to press a kiss on the exposed curve of her neck. “Have good dreams.”

Half an hour later,
as Katya finished dressing, she held Dev’s final comment close to her heart. There’d been such care in those words, such tenderness. It had made her hesitate, but this was her only option now that she’d given up on getting him to enter her mind. He would be furious, but he’d also be safe—she couldn’t hurt him from so far away.

Doubt hit again.

What if her actions weren’t her own? What if she was meant to run, to go wherever it was her heart and soul insisted she go? What if the compulsion was only another clever trap?

“No.” She knew these thoughts were her own. She
knew
. But how? Frowning in concentration as she laced up her sneakers, she felt a headache coming on. But this time she didn’t retreat . . . and the answer appeared from the mists.

“
You’re a blunt instrument, nothing more.” A single fingertip touching her forehead. “There’s no room for subtlety
.”

“
Why?” she asked, too numb to be afraid anymore
.

She didn’t expect an answer, was surprised when he spoke again. “Subtlety requires mind control. You’re not worth that much of my time
.”

“
What am I supposed to do until the triggers activate?
”

“
You’ll exist. Though, of course, not much of you is left anymore
.”
A spreading blackness in her mind, tentacles digging deep, clawing and vicious
.

Swallowing a cry of agony, Katya bent over, fist pressed to her stomach. Oh, God, it had hurt when he’d done that. It had hurt so very badly. She’d been little more than the most primitive of creatures by then, but she remembered the final torture, the final obliteration of her psyche.

“But I didn’t die, you bastard,” she whispered, rising to a standing position though nausea continued to churn in her stomach, a trickle of blood snaking out of her nose. Wiping it with a tissue, she stared at the door. “And when you locked me in this prison, you also freed me.” Because no one could strike at her through the PsyNet. No one could spy on her. No one could stop her.

All she had to do was get out of this house.

Which might’ve proved very difficult had there only been the three other adults in the house. All three were dangerous. And Dev . . . well, she wasn’t even going to think about taking him on in a physical fight.

But there was a fifth person here. A telepath.

He’d contacted her yesterday, while Sascha was visiting—Katya didn’t know how he’d circumvented Tag. When that curious mind had brushed hers, she’d been so startled, she hadn’t pulled back. And he’d talked to her.

I’m sorry they scared you away last time
.

Surprised at the clarity of that voice, she’d answered without projecting, hoping he’d pick it up.
They were trying to protect someone
. This telepath, she’d realized at once, knowing that there was no way to wipe the information now that she had it. So she’d have to make sure no one would ever again
rip open her mind.
You shouldn’t be talking to me. Go back before you get in trouble
.

A quiet pause.
You’re like me. You’re scared, too
.

I’m trying not to be
, she’d answered honestly.
How about you?

I like Dev—he makes me feel safe
.

Me, too
.

Another pause.
How come you want to leave?

She’d sucked in a breath at the ease with which he’d picked out that thought, even if it had been at the forefront of her mind.
That’s not good manners, to read someone’s thoughts
.

He’d been silent so long, she had thought he’d gone.
Sorry
. Quiet. So quiet.
I don’t know all the rules
.

It’s okay. We all had to start somewhere
. Wanting to help, she’d taken a chance and carried on the conversation.
Just remember—if it’s not something you’d want someone else doing to you, you shouldn’t do it to them
.

I understand. I won’t take your thoughts again
.

Thank you
.

But since I already did—how come you want to leave?

I have something I need to do
. Something that pulled at her until it felt as if her tendons would tear from her bones, a pounding, secretive need. But how could she have any secrets? Ming had taken everything.

A tendril of mischief had brushed her mind and it had had a sense of newness to it, as if the boy had never played.
I can help you
.

No. I don’t want you in trouble
.

My mom used to say that boys are meant for trouble
.

The utter sadness in that sentence had broken her heart. She’d heard wonderful things about Sascha Duncan—she hoped all those rumors were true. Perhaps the cardinal Psy could mend this boy telepath’s own shattered heart.
That sounds about right
.

I have a plan
. A hesitant whisper.

Charmed despite herself, she’d asked,
Okay, I give. What is it?

And when he’d told her, she’d realized the stupid simplicity of it might just work better than every other thing she’d come up with. However, it all depended on whether the child could keep himself awake till the right moment.

So she waited, ready.

But when the scream came, she jumped sky-high. Moving to the door as she heard footsteps running toward the front of the house, she twisted the knob and stepped out into the corridor, heading toward that very area. Her breath stuck in her throat as she passed the open doorway of a room from where she could hear a number of voices. The front door was locked and alarmed in spite of the unexpected interruption.

She moved to the windows. Alarmed and locked, all of them.

Aware her time was about to run out, she told herself to
think
. She could break a window, but knew she wouldn’t get five feet before Dev, Tag, or Tiara ran her down.

You’re a scientist
.

Heart thudding, she crept back down the hallway, made a quick stop in her bedroom, then headed to the kitchen, hoping against hope that her young co-conspirator would be able to keep them occupied for a few more minutes.

As she’d expected, a fresh pot of coffee sat on the counter. One of the three would likely not drink it, being off shift, but it would dramatically change the odds. Sliding out the medications she’d lifted from the apartment in New York, she dissolved a highly specific combination into the liquid.

A quick stir and she was done.

The drugs wouldn’t hurt the others, just make them lethargic, and if she was lucky, sleepy. She could’ve used more but she hesitated—the Forgotten did have Psy genes . . . Unwilling
to do serious harm, she retreated, the rest of the drugs still in her possession.

She was back in her room pretending to read when her door opened a fraction. “What was that noise?” she asked Tiara.

“A nightmare.” The other woman didn’t explain whose. “Wanted to tell you not to worry.”

“Thanks.”

And then Katya waited.

There was some movement for the next hour, people murmuring, steps to the kitchen, back to the living room. Sometime after nine thirty, a door closed with a quiet snick—one of the three going to bed. Waiting another twenty minutes to give that person time to slip into sleep, she pushed off the blankets and got up.

CHAPTER 31

Heart in
her throat, she cracked open the door, knowing her coat and boots would give away her intent if she was caught. And she had no intention of being imprisoned again. Creeping down the hallway, she glanced into the open doorway of a bedroom.

Dev
.

He lay with his head on a small writing table, his hair mussed. Knowing she should just walk on, she nonetheless went to him. His pulse beat strong under her fingers. Relief was a cool rain against her cheeks.

Pressing a kiss to his jaw, the roughness of stubble enticing her to linger, she went to leave the room. That was when she saw the stunner tucked in the small of his back. She hesitated. She had no desire to hurt anyone, but if either Tag or Tiara woke, she’d need something with which to warn them off. “Don’t hate me,” she whispered, and took the weapon before making her way to the entrance of the house.

Tag sat in front of the entertainment screen, a science fiction
show playing in the background. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back against the sofa.

A near-empty mug of coffee sat in front of him.

Scared at his stillness, she went to put her fingers on his throat.

He groaned, shifted.

Freezing, she waited for him to wake and raise the alarm. But after a fraught few moments he slipped back into sleep. Relieved, she spread out her senses, searching to make sure the child was okay. Tag’s shields were holding—the man was a very strong telepath. Unsure if they’d continue to hold as he dropped further into unconsciousness, she wrapped her own shields over his. Then, with a thousand silent apologies, she ransacked Tag’s wallet, taking all the cash he had on him.

The alarm was the next hurdle.

“Help me,” she whispered, not knowing who she was pleading with.

A door opened down the hall.

“Tag?” Tiara’s voice came closer, husky with sleep. “I thought I felt—” The other woman froze when she saw the stunner pointed at her. Beautiful brown eyes streaked with a hundred shades of gold and amber flicked to the big man on the couch, worry crawling their depths.

“He’s fine,” Katya said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone—I just want out.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Tiara murmured, her hands loose at her sides.

Katya didn’t relax her guard. The woman had a weapon on her somewhere. And she was a telepath. Katya held back the powerful psychic assault with her own abilities, creating an effective deadlock. “Do you know something, Tiara?”