The Psy-Changeling Collection (89 page)

She was heat and woman, fear and courage, sensuality and laughter.

And she was not his.

If he tried to change that, he’d end up killing her. Because he wasn’t anything as simple as a Tk. He was a Tk-Cell, a subdesignation so rare, it wasn’t listed on any public record. After Silence, Tk-Cells had become the Council’s dirty little secret, their most lethal assassins. Before Silence, before the imposition of
control,
those of his subdesignation had always ended up murderers, killing their wives and daughters first. It was as if their ability snapped out to strike at the only ones who might have pulled them back from the abyss.

Judd made his decision then and there. He had to leave the den before Brenna unknowingly set off his abilities. She had no idea of the horror she could unleash.

He wasn’t an assassin by choice. He was one because he couldn’t
be
anything else.

Judd found Hawke
before dawn the next morning, having spent the previous afternoon and night sealing up the cracks in his conditioning—it was all that protected those around him from the killing rage of his ability. “I want out,” he told the alpha. He wasn’t used to asking for permission, would have just walked out had he been alone, but he wasn’t. His unexplained disappearance would impact Walker, Sienna, and the kids’ position in the den.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “What does your family think about that decision?”

“They have nothing to do with it.” A complete truth. “Walker’s settled and able to steer them through any turbulence. I’m a disruptive influence.” As the recent murder had shown, anytime things went badly wrong, eyes looked toward the Psy, toward him. “All of them have integrated into the pack to some extent.” While he’d made every effort not to.

The SnowDancer alpha didn’t look convinced. “Why now?”

Judd had already decided to tell
a
truth. It was simply not the one that mattered. “In the Net, I held a rank equal to those of your lieutenants. I knew that should we survive our defection, I’d lose that. It was a price I chose to pay.” To save the children from the living death that was rehabilitation.

“So what’s changed?”

“I didn’t count on the fact that the enforced idleness, the effectual caging of my abilities, would have a consequence.” Also true. Despite the covert work he’d been doing—both for the Ghost and to earn income for the family—the pressure was building. It was, he told himself, the reason why Brenna had been able to crack his shields with relatively little effort. He’d already been compromised. “Those idle psychic muscles need to be stretched or they’ll begin to act without my conscious control.”

“Like our beasts.”

“Yes.” He’d seen wolves go rogue, seen the damage they could do. “But worse.”

“I’m not buying.” Hawke leaned back against the dark wood of his desk, pale eyes more wolf than human. “I recognize control when I see it. And yours is precision-tuned.”

No other option was feasible for his subdesignation. However, that wasn’t something Hawke needed to know. “You’ve guessed at my position in the Net,” he said instead. “I was who I was because my abilities lie in combat. Such aggressive abilities have to be utilized on a regular basis to ward off loss of control.”

“How are you planning to do that?” No overt suspicion, but the implication was there.

For a fleeting second, Judd considered calling attention to the insult, but then stifled the reaction as irrelevant. To the wolves, he was an enemy, not a fellow soldier. “I have no intention of rejoining the PsyNet—it would mean death for my family should the Council realize we weren’t executed when we walked into your territory. I can, however, blend in with the general populace and go freelance.”

“As what?”

He met those cold wolf eyes. “As a man who cleans up certain kinds of messes, what else?” A brutal choice but one that would serve to keep his abilities in check.

“I can’t let an assassin loose on the fucking public.” Hawke shoved a hand through hair almost identical to the silver-gold color of his pelt in wolf form.

Judd didn’t see the need to point out that he’d already been working for months without setting off alarms. The clients never saw him. He never met them. And he didn’t kill for them. Not yet. “No wet work,” he said. “I’d work in surveillance and protection in this state for the next three or four years.”

Until Sienna became capable of taking over some of what he did to keep the LaurenNet functional, he couldn’t go far. The familial Net linked him to his family and generated enough biofeedback to keep them all alive. No Psy could survive without that feedback. If he put distance between himself and the others, it would strain the already thin fabric of a network made up of only five minds, leaving more room for mistakes. “I won’t practice my profession in your territory.”

“What happens when Sienna grows up?” Hawke asked astutely.

“I’m considering mercenary work in the African states.” In the deepest, darkest jungles where changelings held sway and where there were no Psy, no one who might possibly recognize him. And no woman with sunshine in her smile. He crushed that thought with merciless reality—the day Brenna
truly
saw him, the day she discovered the things he had done, he would lose her smile anyway.

“There is another option.” Hawke’s eyes were predator-still, watchful. “You could work as a SnowDancer soldier. That would allow you to use your abilities, correct?”

“Enough to blow off the most dangerous steam.” The instant the words left his lips, Judd knew he should’ve lied. So why hadn’t he? He looked inward and found his shields solid. Yet something was making him behave in opposition to his own decision to leave the den. “However, it’s not a viable option in my case. None of you trust me—it would be a farce.”

“Trust has to be earned.”

“Most changelings hate the Psy. SnowDancers go a step further.” After having seen Enrique’s handiwork, Judd couldn’t argue with their reaction.

Hawke didn’t dispute his analysis. “You helped get Brenna out—that’s a good enough place to start. I want you doing soldier work.”

It was the one response he hadn’t factored into his plans. “I would have thought you’d throw a party at the thought of getting rid of me.”

“The alpha in me says you could come in very handy.”

Judd knew why Hawke wanted his abilities. It was the same reason the Psy Council had. A pet assassin was not something those in power wanted to lose. “If I decline?”

Hawke’s eyes gleamed. “Then I withdraw safe harbor for Walker.”

Only the adult. Not the children. It was more than the Council had offered and Judd had bathed in blood for them. “Fine.” He silenced the part of him that questioned his easy capitulation. Walker had no need of his protection—his brother could save himself. “But I want the same autonomy as the rest of your soldiers.” No more chains, no more cages.

“You have nothing to bargain with.”

“I have my skills.” It wasn’t a threat. Not yet.

A low growl emanated from Hawke’s throat, as if his beast had sensed the danger. But his voice, when it came, was calm. “Most men would’ve lost their temper by now. I sure as hell would’ve gone for the throat.”

“I’m not most men.” Sometimes, he wasn’t even sure he was human, not a monster. “Of course, if I want revenge, I’ll simply send Sienna your way.” His niece could make Hawke lose his cool faster than any other man or woman in the den. “She’s been in a particularly . . . interesting mood since you forced her to train with Indigo.”

Hawke’s face darkened. “Keep that damn brat away from me—she’s more trouble than a pack of rabid cats.” He reached behind himself for a map. “I need a man to keep an eye on some stuff in the eastern quadrant.”

Judd walked over to look at the large sheet of plaspaper as Hawke rolled it open across his desk. “Isolated area, no habitation within miles,” he said, orienting himself. “Includes a segment of the outer perimeter.” That perimeter was the den’s first—if farthest—line of defense. That put his placement there in a new light. A test?

Hawke pointed to the border section. “We’ve had reports of people encroaching. Might be human or nonpredatory teenagers playing chicken, but we need to know if it’s something more. No unnecessary contact. I need intelligence before we make a move.

“If it is kids, a good scare will make them mind their manners. If it’s adults from a predatory species, they know the rules.” That unauthorized access meant death. The SnowDancers weren’t particularly forgiving and Judd had seen the bodies to prove it. It was why they had not only survived, but become the most powerful pack in California.

“Understood.” Rusty sections of his mind stretched awake in anticipation.

“It’s pretty damn lonely out there.” Hawke glanced up. “You might not touch another person for weeks. I’ll set you on a rotation—two weeks out, one week in. Most of my people in isolated areas do it that way.”

“Touch is a changeling need.” As important, apparently, as eating and breathing. He’d observed how aggressive they became without it. During Brenna’s recovery, she’d often been surrounded by packmates.

What very few knew was that in the hardest sessions, the ones where she’d wanted no one in her pack to see her, but had needed the tactile contact, it was Judd who had held her. Oddly, she had granted him skin privileges—the right to touch—almost from the start. It had been the first time he’d had such sustained contact with another. She’d been soft. Warm. Trusting. And highly disturbing to his Psy senses.

“I’m designed to work alone.” Nature’s gift to him.

Hawke took him at his word. “There’s an old cabin here.” He indicated a spot close to the boundary that delineated the area into which the SnowDancers would accept no unauthorized entry. Their territory was so broad that it covered several regions where other species lived and worked, and they were more lenient about access in those sections, but the massive tract of heavily forested land stretching out in all directions from the den was sacrosanct. “It’s fully equipped with comm equipment. You can use it as a base.”

Judd left
within the hour, having decided to cover the considerable distance on foot with the aid of his Tk abilities. It would both speed him up and serve the purpose of releasing some of the psychic energy built up in his system.

As he began running across the snow at a speed that would’ve shocked the wolves, he considered Brenna’s probable reaction to his sudden departure. She was confident enough, had enough wolf arrogance that she’d be considerably annoyed if he wasn’t there when she came looking. However, given that he was no longer her sole source of information about Psy-related material—and especially after what he’d told her to do yesterday, she might not even notice that he’d left.

His hands tightened on the straps of his pack. Rationalizing away the action as necessary to secure the light burden, he kicked up his speed until he was moving too fast to concentrate on anything but avoiding the obstacles in his path.

Brenna knew
something was wrong the second she woke. She became convinced of it when Andrew gave her a big grin at breakfast. He’d been in a shitty mood ever since she’d returned from fighting with Judd yesterday, having found out exactly how much time she’d been spending with the man. They had had such a blazing row over it that she’d spent the rest of the day with Lucy and a couple of other female friends, disgusted with the whole male race in general. But now her brother was acting eerily cheerful.

“What did you do to him?” she asked without the least attempt at subtlety.

Andrew managed to look hurt, stopping with his coffee halfway to his lips. “Nothing. I can’t believe you asked me that.”

She’d been his sister too long to fall for the act. “Spill it or I’m going over there.”

“Fine.” Grinning, he started to drink his coffee with overt enjoyment.

Terrified that her brothers really
had
done something, she almost ran to Judd’s room. Again, the scent was of emptiness. Heart thudding triple-time, she tried desperately to convince herself he’d just done one of his irritating disappearing acts.

“I set him on a watch.”

Startled by that familiar voice, she swiveled to face Hawke. “Where?”

“Why is that any of your business?” Pale, pale blue eyes watched her without blinking.

She fisted her hands. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t play games with me.” Hawke knew everything that went on in his domain.

“A year ago, you wouldn’t have dared speak to me like that.”

A year ago, she’d been someone else. “Things have changed.”

“I can see that.” He didn’t sound as if he minded. “But your brothers can’t. Drop this thing with Judd before you push them too far.”

“You’re my alpha, not my keeper. I already have two of those. Two too many.”

He actually smiled—alphas respected spine. To demand unquestioning obedience was the sign of a bad leader. “Your Psy is in the eastern quadrant. I’ll give you a map.”

She hadn’t really expected an answer—Hawke despised the Psy as much as her brothers did—but now that she had it, she pushed for even more. “Will you stop Drew and Riley from coming after me?”

“They’ll try to trace you.” Reaching out, he ran his knuckles over her cheek.

She allowed the touch, because Hawke was safe—as her brothers, despite their pigheadedness, were safe. “I remember, you know, I remember that you all came for me. That you held me when I woke.” Riley, her tough, stoic older brother had had tears in his eyes. Drew had told her off, such love in every harsh word, and Hawke, he’d just touched her, let her scent Pack and know she was home. “I’ll never forget, but I need to run free.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Dropping his hand, he gave her an inscrutable look. “I haven’t told anyone else about Judd’s location. You’ll have maybe four days before your brothers track you down if you leave now and take one of the all-wheel drives. You’ll have to shift and run the last part, but you should still beat him there. He’s on foot.”