Hostage to Pleasure (Page 44)

"Meenakshi hasn't quite gotten used to her delicate angel turning into a soldier." In human form, Dezi's mother was a petite powerhouse with Dezi's skin and those startling green eyes she'd brought with her from a region in Kashmir. A star in the world of classical Indian dance, she loved both her mate and her daughter to pieces, but was still stunned her baby had grown up into such a lethal young woman. Not that Dezi couldn't dance. "You were cute in a tutu."

Desiree scowled. "Why don't you ever forget shit?" She turned on her heel without waiting for an answer. "Should've been an elephant instead of a leopard."

Smile widening, Lucas watched her disappear into the trees as he coded in a call to Dorian, very aware of the other woman who'd just moved into his line of sight. Sascha leaned patiently against a slender pine, so gut-wrenchingly beautiful that he was tempted to haul her to him for a long, hungry kiss. But he was an alpha and Dorian was a sentinel who'd bled for him more than once - that loyalty went both ways. "No confirmation that it's Amara," he said when the other man answered, "but at this point, they want her alive enough that they gave us the time when she went in."

"How long before she reaches my cabin?"

"She's not used to the terrain so I'd say it'll be daybreak by then - if she doesn't fall and break her leg, or run into some of the more unfriendly wildlife."

"Could be a ruse."

"Yeah. Dezi's backtracking and I'm going to join her. What I want to know is why they haven't grabbed her on the PsyNet."

Dorian blew out a breath. "One option is that they're using her to get to Ashaya. But... Faith saw the DarkMind around Amara. Maybe it's hiding her."

"Hell." Lucas had deep respect for the DarkMind. He knew exactly how dangerous the entity could be. He also knew there was little chance of Amara Aleine coming out of this alive - neither he nor Dorian would allow the DarkMind's insidious brand of evil to taint the pack. "What happens if we find her?" he asked, since Dorian was the one with the most information on this.

A pause and he heard the edges of a soft-voiced conversation before Dorian came back on the line. "Bring her here. This has to end."

"That's what I thought." Finishing the call, he made the promised check - in with Meena, then coded in Jamie's number. The soldier picked up on the first ring. Lucas gave him the location of Dorian's cabin. "Might be guard duty, might be more." Usually, he would've called one of his remaining sentinels, but since Jamie and Dezi were both being considered for that status in the future, he needed to see what they were made of.

Jamie made a sound of agreement. "I'll probably make it just after daybreak."

"Should be fine." Done, Lucas put away the phone and walked over to satiate his hunger for his mate. The kiss was slow, passionate, perfect. "I'm going tracking."

Sascha nodded. "Want me to wait?"

"Do I want my mate to wait in a deserted forest while a dangerous Psy fugitive remains on the loose? Wait, let me think."

"Sarcasm does not suit you." She kissed him again, laughter in her eyes. "No overt attempts at psychic interference that I could determine."

"Good. Go home and rest." Neither of them had slept much, but he knew it would hit her harder - she was physically weaker than he was. Simple fact. And something his protective instincts wouldn't let him ignore. "If this is Amara, I have a feeling we'll be needing your gift."

Sascha's face grew solemn. "To have a broken twin... That's got to be a powerful bond - even in the PsyNet, twins aren't separated. I can't imagine how this could possibly end happily." Her hand curled around his. "Dorian's emotionally involved."

"Yeah."

"If he loses another woman he considers his..." She shook her head. "He'll give in to the darkness. Nobody will be able to stop him."

Lucas didn't argue. He knew full well that if Ashaya died, Dorian would pick up a gun and go hunting. Only death would halt his quest for vengeance this time.

Ashaya met Dorian's eyes. "I want to stay on watch with you."

He scowled. "You have to go on camera again tomorrow - no, today. Catch some z's."

She sat on the edge of the bed, braiding her hair. "Yes," she said. "I have to make sure people understand that the Council murdered Ekaterina and the others."

He heard the anger and the leopard understood. For some crimes, there could be no forgiveness. "There's one other thing you need to take care of - we've had indications that some human group wants to use Omega to hit the Psy."

She blew out a breath. "I can't retract my statement. That'll undo everything we've achieved." A pause. "I'll make it clear the virus knows no racial boundaries."

"Should work."

"You used the very thing that could've led to his death, to protect him."

"Ironic, isn't it?"

"Smart," he said, flicking his eyes toward her. She looked so solemn and neat with those tight braids on either side of her head that he had the wicked impulse to mess her up again.

She met his gaze. "You have the cat in your eyes."

In truth, the leopard was stretched out inside him, tense with worry. But it was also... happy. Because she was here. And both man and leopard would do everything and anything to keep her safe. "Whatever happens, you do the broadcast today. We need to make you so hot that your death would cause more problems than it would solve." For one, they'd have a sniper on their trail. It was an icy calm thought.

"The Council wouldn't have cared once," Ashaya said. "They'd have silenced me and any critics. I guess things are changing, but the pace is so slow."

"Silence has had over a century to take root," he reminded her. "It can't be ended overnight."

"I don't care so much about Silence."

He shot her a look of utter disbelief. "What?"

"I think most Psy would break Silence if given a choice, but others would choose to hold on to it. That should be an option."

He returned his attention to the window. "If you say so."

"It's not black and white." He could feel her glaring at his back. "Shades of gray dominate."

"Uh-huh."

Something hit his back. "Hey!" When he turned around, Ashaya gave him a prim look. "You weren't paying attention."

"I just don't get it - why the hell would anyone choose to remain an emotionless robot?" He lobbed the pillow back to her.

Grabbing it, she hugged it to her stomach. "Because there are some Psy gifts so dangerous that even we fear them on the deepest, most primal level. Silence is sometimes the only thing holding these powerful Psy back from the edge of the abyss."

Dorian folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall next to the window, from where he could continue to keep watch while facing Ashaya. "No, Shaya, that's the one thing I won't accept. Silence spawned the fucking bastard who took my sister's life. I want it destroyed." Fury uncurled deep inside him, threading through his veins with savage intensity.

"And what about the innocent people who'll lose their minds to the blinding fire of their gifts?" Getting up, she walked over to touch his arm. "You saw the end result of that kind of degradation in the violence of that murder-suicide."

A sheet of red rising at his back, a broken woman in an assassin's arms. "Not my problem." He cupped her cheek. "You're mine. You matter. Pack matters. Everyone else can take their chances."

Ashaya shook her head. "You don't mean that."

"I mean every word. I'll do everything I can to bring Silence down." Because as far as he was concerned, the madness, the evil, it all stemmed from the imposition of a protocol that had eliminated emotion from the Psy.

"No, Dorian." She tugged at his wrist, but he broke contact and turned back to the window. "It's the Council that's the true enemy. Once they're gone, once we have a leadership that cares - "

He snorted. "Psy who lead tend to be power hungry."

"Not all." Pushing into his space, Ashaya gripped his arm, feeling herself teetering on the edge of some crucial understanding. Then he shot her a hard look and she knew. "You're not this bitter, hateful man who refuses to see the truth. You're better than this."

This time his glance was filled with cold rage. "My sister was butchered, Shaya. Butchered. One of the Silenced tortured her, cut her, broke her. Then he brought her home and killed her in her safe place." His hands clenched so tight she was afraid he'd shatter his own bones. "Her skin was still warm when I reached her. I heard the echo of her scream as I ran up the stairwell and some nights, that scream haunts me until it's all I can hear."

She couldn't imagine the depth of his horror, but that nameless knowing inside her, a knowing attuned only to this leopard in human skin, comprehended that his grief could also turn into a kind of poison. The wonder of it was that it hadn't already.

His pack, she thought, recalling the look in Lucas Hunter's eyes that day on the CTX balcony. Dorian's packmates hadn't just looked out for him, they'd refused to allow him to drown under the crushing weight of his tormented anguish. "You were getting better," she said, shoulders tight with sudden realization. "Before I came into your life, you were getting past the loss."

"You're mine." A flat declaration that was no answer.

"It was me," she said, hand dropping off his arm. "I pushed you back into the poison of rage."