The Psy-Changeling Series, Books 6-10 (82 page)

Taking the taste of Dev into her lungs, into her heart, Katya retreated to the psychic plane and began to make her way through the jagged minefield of her mind—skirting the numb, dead spots, the distorted pathways, the epicenters of pain—to the very core, to the place where she was connected to the PsyNet itself. The last time she’d seen it, it had been a strong, vibrant column laced with a bright blue energy that seemed to surge with the bold purity of life itself.

Today, that column was pitted and dull, the energy a sluggish mud. If she didn’t do this now, death would only be delayed, not halted. And when she died, she’d do so paralyzed and broken, locked within the hell of her own mind. At least today, she could still feel Dev’s body around hers, still hear his murmurs of love and devotion, still understand that she’d touched something extraordinary when she’d fallen in love with this man.

Standing before the dying column, she took a deep breath. “Oh, how I love you, Dev.” It was incredibly easy to cut through the weakened link. One psychic slice and it was gone, her bond to the Net, her final anchor.

She waited for the agony and it wasn’t long in coming. Iron pokers tore through her insides, ripped open her flesh, splintered her bones. But she hardly noticed. Because Dev had been right. No kind of virus or created matter could travel outside the Net. As she fell, Ming’s cage didn’t fall with her.

Instead, the prison, the spiderweb, the talons, they all wrenched out of her mind with brutalizing force, ripping through her brain itself. The pain was so acute that she couldn’t even hear her own screams. And then one too many of those sadistic spikes tore free, and her mind just stopped.

Dev had
never before heard a sound of such sheer agony. Holding Katya as she convulsed, as her screams turned into ragged, gasping breaths, he prayed for the first time since the day he’d watched his mother’s eyes go forever dull. “Please,” he whispered. “Please.” Asking for mercy, for deliverance.

Liquid spread over the front of his shirt, where she’d pressed her face, and he knew it was blood. But still her heart beat, still her fingers clawed. How much more would she suffer?

“Let me take it,” he pleaded to the heavens.

Agony speared through him on the heels of that wish. He held on to Katya even as his knees hit the floor hard enough to send pain rocketing up his body. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed the pain, opened himself up for more. Against him, Katya had gone quiet, and for that mercy, he’d pay any price.

It felt as if his skin was being sliced from the inside out, a thousand knives cutting him open.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended. He found himself kneeling on the floor, Katya’s unmoving body held to his own, his breath coming in jagged pants. There was blood everywhere. Some of it was his, he thought, realizing that whatever had happened had literally forced blood through his very pores, but that wasn’t important.

Because Katya was breathing.

“Katya.” He cupped her cheek. It was warm. But her eyes were closed. And when he reached for her with his mind, he found . . . almost nothing. Less than the barest echo of the vibrant woman she’d been.

Not brain-dead, but close to it.

Shoulders shaking with grief, he brought her limp body to his chest and collapsed against the wall.

 

 

 

Dev ignored
the insistent beeping of his phone.

When it wouldn’t stop, he threw it at the wall in front of him, the throw angry enough to snap the casing in half.

Two seconds later, someone began knocking at his mind, the knocks so hard they stole his concentration, his time with Katya. Baring his teeth, he opened his psychic eye and “punched” Tag.

It should have made him retreat. Instead, the telepath shook off the hit and began to speak using their ShadowNet link. “There’s a new thread, Dev.” The mix of frustration and wonder in the other man’s tone finally got through Dev’s grief. “Are you listening? There’s a new—”

But Dev was already staring in anguish at the twisting silver thread that linked his mind to a fading star. It was so small, that star, the light within it the barest flicker. And the silver thread, it was so fragile, a single careless push might jar it loose. When his
nani
’s love surrounded him, he didn’t protest, didn’t do anything, too broken inside his soul.

But part of him, the Shine director part, was able to think, to process. “I thought the ShadowNet couldn’t take full-blooded Psy.”

“We can’t do it by choice—not like the PsyNet,” Nani said. “We tried that with a would-be defector back in my day.”

“But she’s here.”

“We made a critical mistake—we forgot to factor in the thing that sets this net apart from the PsyNet. Emotion, Devraj.” Her voice held wonder interwoven with sorrow. “The Forgotten’s bonds to the ShadowNet itself are of need, but the bonds
between
those inside our net are bonds of emotion.”

Dev heard, but that dull silver thread, that barely-there connection, couldn’t be his love for Katya. “I love her more than that.” She’d become his reason for being.

“She’s dying,
beta
, that’s why the thread is so faded. You know that.”

He knew, but he didn’t want to. “She wanted to die on her terms, but I can’t let her go. Not now.” Not when she’d fallen into his arms.

“I don’t think your Katya would begrudge you the time to say good-bye.”

Rising from his collapsed position on the physical plane, Dev carried Katya to the bathroom and drew her a bath. He took the utmost care with her, washing her hair until it shone, drying her body with the softest of towels. Then, dressing her in her favorite T-shirt and the boxers she’d stolen from him two days before, he laid her down in their bed. She looked so peaceful, as if she was sleeping.

Connor flew in from Manhattan later that day and hooked up a feeding tube. “Take this out when you’re ready,” the doctor said before he left. “She’ll slip away without pain.”

Leaving Connor to make his own way out, Dev crawled into bed beside her. She was so warm, her heartbeat so strong, it seemed possible she’d wake at any moment. But he knew that was a cruel lie. Still he couldn’t help hoping.

And though he wanted to keep her only to himself, when Ashaya rang two hours later, having heard what had happened through Tag, he knew he couldn’t. “Okay,” he said to her request for permission to come say good-bye.

He spent the night holding Katya, trying to find the courage to let her go.

His grandparents drove in before dawn. “My Devraj.” Walking to Katya’s side of the bed, his
nani
took off the ring she’d worn on her wedding finger since the day his grandfather proposed. Her withheld tears glittered diamond bright as she handed it to him. “Here.”

Accepting the gift, he slid it gently onto Katya’s ring finger. “She told me she wanted to be you when she grew up,” he found the voice to say, forcing himself to rise from the bed. “Are there messages for me?” It was a hollow question.

“Aubry and Maggie have everything in hand. Your
nana
and Marty will take care of what they can’t.” A tender hand passing over his hair. “This time is yours.”

Ashaya and Dorian arrived not long afterward, bringing both Keenan and his “girlfriend” Noor. “They’re inseparable,” Ashaya said to him, as if afraid he’d mind.

“It’s good to have them here,” he said, glad for the sound of laughter, of life around Katya.

Sascha Duncan had flown in, too, Lucas by her side. Dev knew the empath had come for him, to help him, but he didn’t want any help, didn’t want to hurt any less. “Cruz?” he asked Sascha.

“He’s starting to hold his shields,” the empath told him. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Leaving Sascha, he returned to Katya, wanting to tell her about the boy who’d helped her escape.

Ashaya found him there forty minutes later. “There’s only one choice.” The M-Psy’s eyes were shimmering wet as she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I know.” And his heart broke impossibly more with every hour that passed. “I just need a little more time to say good-bye.”

Keenan and Noor ran into the room at that moment, skidding to a stop at the end of the bed. “She’s sick?” Keenan asked, his face solemn.

Ashaya put her hand on her son’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. She’s very sick.”

Little Noor went around Ashaya to pat Katya’s hair, smoothing it out on the pillow. “She’s Jon’s friend.”

“Yeah.” Dev tried to smile for the girl, but couldn’t quite make his lips move.

Ashaya picked Noor up and settled her in the curve of one arm, taking Keenan’s hand with her free one. “Come on, babies. Let’s leave Katya and Dev alone for a while.”

Barely aware of the door closing, Dev lay down on the bed alongside the woman who held his soul, his heart, his everything. Her heart still beat, her breath still came, but her mind, that beautiful, sharp, courageous mind, was damaged beyond repair. She’d never wake now, but he could keep her alive for years on machines.

A sob shook his body.

How could he do that to her? To his laughing, spirited Katya? The truth was, he couldn’t. He’d have to let her go, press a final kiss to her lips, and hope that heaven was real, that one day, he might look up, and there she’d be.

Ming LeBon lay
severely injured in a sealed chamber accessible only to telekinetics with the ability to teleport—and the M-Psy they brought with them. It was meant to be the safest possible of all locations, since the Tks on the Arrow Squad would quickly take care of any intrusions.

“We could kill him now,” Vasic said without inflection.

Aden nodded. “It wouldn’t even take much effort.”

Yet neither of them made the move.

“He dies,” Vasic finally said, watching two M-Psy move carefully around the fallen Councilor, “it creates a vacuum.”

“It’ll destabilize the Net. No knowing who or what would fill that vacuum.”

“You could.” Aden was far more stable than Vasic, than any of the other Arrows. “We’d stand behind you.” And no one—
no one
—had ever been able to withstand the combined might of the Arrow Squad.

“It’s not time.” Aden’s almond-shaped eyes swept over Ming’s body, and Vasic knew his fellow Arrow was noting every minor injury, every weakness. “We can’t show our hand. We’ve lost enough men that there are a couple of Councilors who might be able to gather the resources to get in our way.”

“Kaleb Krychek,” Vasic said, “would’ve made an excellent Arrow.”

“I checked his files.” Aden was nothing if not thorough. “The public ones and the private ones I was able to hack into. He was considered for Arrow training—until Santano Enrique decided to make him his protégé.”

Santano Enrique, as Vasic knew, had turned out to be a sociopathic killer. It was meant to be a well-kept secret, but Arrows were shadows, impossible to trace or see. It was their job to know the Net’s darkest truths. “Is he showing any signs of sociopathy?”

“None that I’ve been able to see—but he’s on the far end of the Silence continuum.”

“So are we.” He stared at Ming. “We might be able to work with Kaleb.”

“What makes him any different from Ming?” Aden asked. “He was an Arrow, and still he betrayed us.”

“Kaleb has blood on his hands,” Vasic replied, knowing too much about death himself, “but I haven’t been able to find one instance of him eliminating an individual who’d remained loyal to him.”

Aden was quiet for a long time. “How many Arrows do you think Ming had killed?”

“Too many.” In doing what he’d done, Ming had broken the cardinal rule of Arrows—it was the integrity of the Net, of Silence, that was of prime importance. Everything else, every other concern, was secondary. If getting rid of other Arrows had furthered that aim, the Arrows would’ve followed Ming to their graves. But Ming had done it for power. And lost his hold on the entire Squad.

Lucas knew
Dev had made his decision when the other man came out of Katya’s room that night. The Shine director’s face was haggard, his eyes blank with loss. “One more night,” he said, almost to himself. “Tomorrow morning . . .”

Knowing no words would ever be enough, Lucas watched silently as Sascha walked across the room to touch her hand to Dev’s heart.

The man stood there like stone, and eventually, Sascha turned away, tears streaking down her face. “He won’t let me help him,” she said, tumbling into Lucas’s arms.

“Some pain a man needs to feel.” He dropped a kiss on top of her hair, understanding Dev in a way not many men could. He’d almost lost Sascha once, would carry the terror of those moments in his heart forever.

Dev was still standing in place when Keenan and Noor ran past, laughing. Lucas saw them go into Katya’s room and was about to call them back when Dev shook his head. “Let them be. Katya would’ve loved seeing Noor this way.” Seeming to shake himself out of his shocked state, the other man looked around the room. “Is Connor here?”

“Outside with Dorian. Ashaya and your grandmother are making sandwiches in the kitchen. Your grandfather’s in the office.”

Nodding, Dev turned left, undoubtedly heading to talk to the doctor who would tomorrow note Katya’s official time of death. “Is this better, kitten?” he asked the woman in his arms. “That Dev has the chance to say good-bye?”

Sascha shook her head. “His heart is shattered, Lucas—I have a feeling Dev will never truly recover.” Her voice broke.

“Shh.” But Lucas, too, had to swallow a knot in his throat.

 

 

 

Dev came
in from talking to Connor, wanting only to crawl into bed beside Katya and feel her heart beat for one last night. But when he entered the bedroom, what he saw made him come to a standstill in the doorway.