Silver Silence (Page 33)

Valentin knew her assistant was Psy; the stern woman had given him the stink eye many a time when he dropped by to speak to Silver. “You need to have a human and a changeling in your inner circle,” he said as he drove hell-for-leather through the traffic in the city proper.

“It’s more efficient to work with fellow telepaths.”

“Everything you do in EmNet is finely balanced—you made that clear when you came along on this trip.” Even though her face was too pale and her strength shaky.

Biting back his bear’s bellow of displeasure at how she was mistreating herself, he said, “No one race can be seen to have more influence or power.”

“I’ll take the suggestion under consideration.” Silver’s fingers moved on her phone. “The problem with choosing a changeling is that many of you are antagonistic to other changeling species. Predators won’t always accept orders from a nonpredatory workmate, while two different predators can get into dominance battles.”

Valentin couldn’t argue with any of that. “You’re the smartest person I know, Starlight.” Bar none. “You’ll figure it out, but you can’t keep it Psy-only at the top.”

Noticing the traffic jam up ahead, dust rising up to blur the glittering Moscow skyline and a sea of brake lights coloring the night scarlet, he brought the vehicle to a stop on the side of the street. “Can you walk the distance?” He knew better than to offer to carry her, but he could bull his way through in the all-wheel drive. It’d be messy and noisy and it’d piss off a lot of people, but it was doable.

And he was a bear. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made people swear and wave their fists at him.

“I can walk.”

Exiting the vehicle, the two of them moved down the sidewalk; it grew more and more congested the nearer they got to the disaster zone. He made sure he was in the front, so Starlight wouldn’t be jostled. Most people shrank back from the force of his dominance—or maybe it was the scowl on his face.

They arrived at the cordon set up by the first responders, were immediately waved in. Controlled chaos lay beyond, with an Enforcement officer attempting to organize the surge of help from various agencies and groups. Sweaty and overwhelmed, he clearly didn’t have the training for it.

Valentin saw his shoulders drop in open relief when he spotted Silver. “Ms. Mercant,” he said in Russian. “I think this qualifies as an EmNet situation.”

Silver caught the ball, ran with it. “Who’s already here?” she asked without preamble. “Tell me what resources I have to work with.”

The officer, looking much less harassed now that someone else was in charge, listed all available personnel on-site. Valentin forced himself to take a mental step back. He was used to being a caretaker, but if he hovered, he’d do more damage to Silver’s reputation than if she collapsed.

It had nothing to do with being the director of the world’s biggest humanitarian organization and everything to do with being Silver Mercant. Tough and in control and without weakness. “I’m going to see if I can help scent out survivors,” he said when the Enforcement officer paused for breath.

Silver’s eyes met his, all frost and sexy intelligence. “Take the southeast quadrant. That sector has no changeling assistance, and the lights currently on-site are limited. Your greater night vision will be welcome.”

Realizing she’d received a telepathic update, he nodded, would’ve left, but she said, “Valentin. Be careful.” No change in her tone, but it was the words that mattered. “The debris is unstable.”

Despite the circumstances, despite the permanent bruise on his heart, a smile formed inside him. Of all the changelings here, he was undoubtedly the one most able to survive half a building falling on him. But it was him she was warning. “You, too, Starlight.”

Bear ready, he headed to his assigned sector—but not before he found the young clanmate he’d scented nearby. “Devi.” He squeezed her skinny, dusty body into his arms, held her until her tremors eased. “You hurt?”

A jerky shake of her head. “A few friends and I were about to go into the restaurant across the road when it . . . when it happened.” Her voice broke, this member of his clan a bear with a soft heart and gentle hands. “I tried to help, get people out, but Zarina said I should s-stay back.”

It had been the right call, given Devi’s physical strength and skills. Now Valentin made another one. “Come on.” He took her to Silver. “Devi is an athlete,” he said when his brilliant Starlichka shot him a silent question. “A runner. Fast, with bear endurance.”

Silver didn’t question his word. “Wait here,” she said to Devi. “I’ll be using you to run water to the rescuers in a moment.”

“Okay, sure.” No longer trembling, Devi reached back to tighten her ponytail. “I can do that.”

Valentin was already turning to head to the quadrant Silver had assigned him. He caught sight of Krychek lifting off large pieces of the rubble in the distance, but even the telekinetic was having to go slow, his movements based on information passed to him by a red-haired changeling Valentin recognized as a BlackEdge wolf: an engineer doing double duty, scenting survivors and planning the safest actions Krychek could take.

Krychek was a power, but if the cardinal moved the wrong piece, the debris would collapse like a house of cards, crushing any survivors within.

Valentin saw no more of how it went; he’d reached his quadrant to find a mixed group of Psy and human first responders. The medics had been ordered to stand back, but the others were picking up and moving pieces of the broken building with painstaking care.

Spotting Valentin, an older woman called a halt. “Your nose as good as a wolf’s?”

Ignoring the tired attempt at a joke, Valentin began to climb the pile of rubble, careful to ensure his weight was in no danger of causing a collapse. Sweat and desperation—the rescuers’ own scents—were pungent in the air. But he was a bear alpha. He knew how to filter out unwanted scents— Chert!

 “Has the gas been turned off?”

Chapter 16

“YEAH! AT THE city’s system mains!” The speaker was wearing the gear of Moscow’s fire-safety crews, the reflective stripes bright on his jacket. “You smell a leak?”

“There are discrete pockets.” Gas wasn’t a common fuel any longer, except in older buildings like this one where conversion wasn’t worth the cost, but Valentin knew the scent.

“That’s probably from right after the initial collapse!” the fireman called back. “It took ten minutes for someone to request the gas be cut off.”

Having scented nothing that went against the other man’s hypothesis, Valentin continued on—but not before yelling down, “Make sure Silver Mercant has that information!”

He was aware of his every tiny move as he navigated the jagged mountain of debris. If gas was trapped within, a single spark could ignite molten death.

“. . . help. Please.”

Valentin froze. “I hear you.” He focused on the area where he’d heard the sign of life, soon scented the air exhaled on a living breath. It was the most precarious part of the rubble. “Is there anyone else with you?”

“Daughter.” A gurgle followed that single word. “Just m— . . .”