I THINK LUCAS and Hawke should do the tango to open the party. Yes? p.s. Update on pupcubs: I am still fourteen months pregnant.
Sascha stifled a laugh as she replied to Mercy’s message from her curled-up position in an armchair in a corner of Lucas’s private office at DarkRiver’s Chinatown HQ. He had a much sleeker public office on another floor, but this was the hub of the HQ.
“What’s the smile for?” Lucas glanced over from where he stood in front of a comm screen, having just finalized the details of a new business project DarkRiver was entering into with a large Psy family group.
Sascha read out the message. “I’m voting yes to the tango,” she added. “I want to see you and Hawke cheek to cheek.”
Lucas’s scowl was very alpha. “She needs to give birth so she can stop being bored and making trouble.”
“I think she’d agree with you.” In her last update, Mercy had written: Think belly button has popped off. May have to fashion new one out of a doughnut hole.
Lucas turned back to the comm as it chimed an incoming call. “BlackSea,” he murmured to her before touching the screen to answer.
The woman who’d made the call had sharp cheekbones, her flawless skin a shade that, Sascha suddenly thought, wouldn’t have looked out of place in any Psy family. Psy in Silence had a clinical way of mixing and mingling genes to the family’s psychic advantage, until skin shades on either end of the spectrum were less common than those in between. According to Riaz, one of the SnowDancer lieutenants who most often dealt with BlackSea, Miane was the product of a devoted mating between an Egyptian father and an Algerian mother.
The result was a striking, powerful woman.
Her straight black hair was cut in a blunt fringe over slightly uptilted eyes that were currently a translucent hazel. However, Sascha had seen those irises turn obsidian. It shouldn’t have disconcerted her, not when Psy eyes could go fully black. But the blackness in Miane’s eyes . . . it was as dark as the deepest part of the ocean, a whispering echo of a more primal time.
“Lucas.” The BlackSea alpha’s tone was cool but Sascha sensed boiling tension beneath the skin. As an empath, she couldn’t technically feel a person’s emotional resonance from this far a distance, but technicalities weren’t everything. It was her belief that empaths learned fine emotional cues without knowing it.
Sascha had discussed that with Ivy Jane and with young Toby. Both agreed, though Toby had put it a different way: “Since we know about emotions all the time, I guess we get used to separating out all the types. Like changelings can with scent.”
An astute comment from an astute boy.
“Miane,” Lucas responded while Sascha stayed out of the shot. “Tanique’s info give you any leads?”
A shake of Miane’s head. “We’ve focused on Canada because we have to start somewhere, but so far, nothing’s panned out.”
“We’re here to assist if you need it.”
BlackSea’s alpha nodded before moving on to the reason for her call. “I just spoke to Aden Kai. He suggested I attend a Trinity summit in two hours with the head of a Psy family plus a couple of Human Alliance CEOs. All three have interests in coastal areas that touch our waters.”
“You wondering why the short notice?”
“Kai says it’s to stop the chance of a violent disruption and that I’m getting an hour’s extra notice because it’ll take me longer to reach the location of the meeting. But while I’m predisposed to like the Arrows, I’m well aware they have motives and aims of their own, not all of which align with BlackSea’s.”
DarkRiver, meanwhile, Sascha realized, was an official ally. Changelings didn’t make such pronouncements lightly.
“It’s legit.” Lucas braced his hands on his hips, the fine cotton of his white shirt stretching over his biceps. “I’d take the usual precautions regardless—we don’t know the motives of all parties who’ve signed the accord.”
Miane logged off with a curt nod and no good-bye.
Watching her mate use the comm screen to deal with a quick contract update, Sascha wondered if Lucas knew he was becoming a powerful figure worldwide. Likely not. Such thoughts would go against his pack-minded nature. He’d never pursued power for power’s sake and never would—but as Miane had just demonstrated, Lucas had come to be considered worthy of trust by an influential network of changelings.
Another call came in just as he finished up what he’d been doing and went to turn toward Sascha. She caught his raised eyebrow. “Jen Liu and I don’t have a scheduled call today.”
It turned out the matriarch of the Liu family group wanted his feedback on a changeling pack that was pitching for business with Liu. “Our contacts in that area are regrettably thin,” said the silver-haired woman with a sharp, pointed face. “I’m not requesting private data; I simply wish to know if they’re reputable in a business sense.”
“Very,” Lucas replied. “They’re small but if they take on a project and you don’t get in their way once the plans are finalized, they’ll finish it on time and within budget.”
“Thank you. Should you require similar feedback on a Psy company, feel free to contact me.”
That was when Sascha realized Lucas wasn’t only trusted by changelings across the world, but that he was gaining a reputation among Psy as well. “Naya,” she whispered, understanding settling on her shoulders like a warm blanket.
Her mate sent her a questioning look.
“Changeling and Psy,” she said, “they both know that of all involved parties, you alone would never jeopardize Trinity. You—we—have a child who needs to grow up in a united world.”
Her mate’s eyes were suddenly more panther than human. “A fair evaluation, isn’t it, kitten?”
“Yes.” She uncurled her legs from the armchair and got up to walk to him, wrapping her arms around his waist as they stood face-to-face. “You don’t mind that they know?”
Head inclined to meet her gaze, Lucas shook his head. “Not if this is the consequence—if people trust me, they trust in Trinity by default.”
An inquisitive mental touch across Sascha’s mind. “Naya’s having fun with Clay.”
The quietest of the sentinels was one of Naya’s favorite people. She would snuggle up against his shoulder and watch wide-eyed while he moved around, no matter what he was doing—and unusually for Naya, she didn’t demand to be put down so she could explore on her own. Clay said it was because he had experience with little girls, thanks to his adopted daughter Noor.
His mate, Talin, had a different take on it. “He’s always had a marshmallow heart,” the tawny-haired woman had teased one day while he was cuddling Noor in one arm and holding Naya in the other. “He used to attend tea parties with me when we were kids. He even drank the pretend tea and told me it was delicious.”
Clay had glowered at the woman he called Tally. “Wait till I have my hands free.”
His glower should’ve been terrifying—Clay was a seriously dangerous leopard. But Noor had growled and pretended to maul Clay, setting off Naya, who’d burst into hysterical baby laughter that had in turn set off both Sascha and Talin. Clay’s grin had creased his cheeks, the once angrily silent sentinel now a man deeply at peace and delighted with his life.
Smiling at the memory, Sascha responded to Naya’s telepathic touch with a psychic kiss. Here I am, sweetheart.
“I’ve been thinking that Naya should meet Nikita,” Lucas said at almost the same time.
Sascha’s mouth fell open. “You don’t even like her.”
Nikita had been part of a machine that had crushed countless changelings under its boot, had in fact been a member of the organization that had consciously hidden the worst serial killers on the planet. That action had led to the deaths of hundreds, including that of Dorian’s younger sister, a loss that had devastated the sentinel and enraged Lucas.
SnowDancer had almost lost Brenna to the same murderous psychopath.
“I might not like her,” Lucas said, “but she kept you alive in difficult circumstances and she’s Naya’s grandmother.” He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, tactile as always.
Sascha never had to wonder about Lucas’s love for her, either on the emotional or on the physical plane. Neither did she have to worry about being touch hungry ever again, as she’d been for so many years of her life. “Still,” she said, trying to make sense of his suggestion and failing, “to trust her with access to Naya?”
Her mate’s expression grew dark. “I’d rather Naya know her from childhood than that she grow up curious about her—curious cubs have a way of getting into trouble.”
Sascha couldn’t argue with that. She’d seen exactly how much trouble DarkRiver teens could get into; a teenager curious about her powerful, lethal grandmother had the potential to get into more dangerous trouble than most. “I don’t think Nikita would ever hurt her,” she said, placing her hand on the taut muscle of Lucas’s arm.
“I agree,” he said. “Otherwise, feline curiosity or not, I wouldn’t let her within a hundred feet of our child.” Sliding one of his hands up to curve it around her neck, he locked his gaze with her own. “If we do it, it has to be soon. Nikita’s still weak from the assassination attempt, her defenses down. Naya might actually get to meet the woman beneath the mask.”
Unlike the panther who was her mate, Sascha’s empathic heart wasn’t used to thinking with such pitiless pragmatism, but she knew Lucas was right. They had to bring Naya and Nikita into contact while there was a chance Nikita would bond with their baby—because once Sascha’s mother bonded with a child, she’d fight to the death to protect that vulnerable life.
Sascha had understood that only after she was out of the PsyNet.
“I’ll work out a time with Sophie,” she said. “We’ll make sure Nikita doesn’t know, so she can’t prepare.” Nikita’s most senior and trusted aide, Sophia Russo, was very much her own woman and she would defy Nikita if she thought it good for her boss.
“Sophia still worried about how hard Nikita is driving herself?”
Nodding, Sascha said, “At least Anthony’s keeping an eye on her. If anyone can make my mother rest, I’d say it’s him.” Quite aside from whatever it was that was going on with Nikita and the head of PsyClan NightStar, Sascha knew Nikita respected Anthony.
“Faith’s father is a brave, brave man.”
Lucas’s solemn pronouncement made her lips twitch and her mind stop tugging at the thread of worry that was concern for the mother who’d abandoned her . . . and saved her. “If their shields weren’t so airtight,” she admitted in a guilty whisper, “I’d probably slip up in the ethics department and take a peek at their emotions.”
Panther-green eyes glinted in approval. “You and everyone else who knows about those two, I bet.” A nipping, nibbling kiss that was pure teasing cat. “I’ll reach out to Vasic,” he said afterward, “see if he’ll agree to teleport you.”
Sascha nodded, aware she and Naya couldn’t be seen entering Nikita’s domain. “If Vasic can’t do it, we’ll have to come up with another plan. Mother won’t accept any other teleporter in her domain while she’s weak.”
“Vasic’s an Arrow,” Lucas pointed out. “Dangerous as they come.”
“He’s also bonded to an E.” Nikita considered empaths weak in their emotionality, but she also accepted that they were good judges of character.
“Plus,” Lucas said, eyes narrowed in thought, “Aden’s made it clear the Arrows don’t want to stage a coup. That has to factor into her decisions.”
Sascha had a sudden thought. “What if Anthony’s with her when I go in?” she whispered, her mind flicking back to the hospital waiting room and Anthony’s silent, intense presence.
Lucas paused in the act of unbuttoning his shirt to change into his preferred T-shirt and jeans now that he was about to head out of the office. Anyone who called him while he was in the field would get the changeling alpha as opposed to the CEO of DarkRiver. It was a fine distinction and it kept people on their toes now that DarkRiver was no longer in danger of being dismissed as a small, unimportant pack.
An arrested expression on his face, he said, “If he is . . .” A very wicked, very feline smile. “I’m all for interrupting them and relieving our curiosity about what exactly they get up to behind closed doors.”
Sascha’s shoulders shook, her worry about her mother overtaken by delight that Nikita might be doing something with Anthony, no matter how unlikely that was, given the individuals involved. Any relationship Anthony and Nikita had would never be predictable or understood by others. “You’re such a cat sometimes.”
“Meow.”
Laughing, she ducked out of his office before she gave in to the urge to pet him—because it wouldn’t stop there. Then their packmates would catch them and never let it go. Instead, she went looking for their cub. Naya’s animated voice announced her presence well before Sascha saw her. She was still with Clay, who was checking construction specs on a comm screen; far from demanding attention, Naya was happily hanging over his shoulder and talking to Dorian as the other sentinel worked at a drafting board behind Clay.
Another, smaller baby, only a few months old, lay in a plush capsule carrier on the desk next to Dorian. This one was peacefully asleep, all dark lashes and plump cheeks. She was dressed in white socks and a pink one-piece with a daisy print on the front. Tied gently around her head, over a shock of silky dark hair, was a white ribbon.
Sascha just wanted to pick her up and cuddle her close.
“Is that right?” Dorian said to Naya, drawing a line using the old-fashioned set square he preferred over more high-tech tools when it came to his architectural work. His white-blond hair was bright in the sunshine pouring through the casement windows on this level of the midsize building, the open plan area maximizing the space and light.
“You don’t say.” Glancing at the sleeping baby at the same time that he responded to Naya, Dorian reached out and touched the tip of the baby’s nose. She smiled in her sleep and seemed to settle even deeper.
“Yes,” Dorian said when Naya talked to him some more.
Included was the word “Dor” several times. Naya definitely knew her packmates.
“This is Mialin Corrina,” Dorian said, as if he’d fully understood Naya’s question. “She belongs to Ria and Emmett. You can play with her when she gets a little bigger.”
Sascha leaned against a wall of the workspace and just watched the four of them. She wasn’t the least surprised when Lucas’s executive administrative assistant, Ria, came to stand beside her. Shaking her head, the shorter woman said, “I swear, these guys make my ovaries explode.”
“It’s even worse when it’s your own mate, isn’t it?”
“Oh God, yes.” Ria sighed, her brown eyes warm with love as they lingered on her baby. “Emmett does this thing where he tells her stories while cuddling her to sleep. My heart goes boom every single time. I have zero willpower for hours afterward—the man could ask me to dance naked while playing bongo drums and I’d do it.”
Sascha nodded in sympathy. “The first time I walked into the room and saw Naya asleep on Lucas’s chest while he slept, too, his hand over her naked baby butt . . .” Sascha sighed, rubbing a fist over her heart. “I don’t think I’ve recovered.”
“Even just thinking of Emmett with our baby . . .” Ria sniffed, her lower lip quivering.
Sascha wrapped an arm around the normally tough-as-nails woman. “I know.” She dropped a kiss on Ria’s mink-brown hair, at home with the affectionate skin privileges permitted to packmates who were close. “Your ovaries will learn to take it.”
Ria sniffle-laughed.
Hearing the sound, Dorian glanced over. “Hey, now.” The handsome male, who’d been full of pitiless anger and grief when Sascha first met him, walked over to tug Ria from Sascha’s embrace and wrap her in his arms. “I thought your eyes only shot fire.”
Ria punched him in the arm. It had zero effect, since he was built of pure muscle.
Chuckling, the sentinel kissed her cheek. “You have the specs I asked for?”
“Here.” Ria pushed the organizer into his chest, but without any force. “How much did you corrupt my daughter today?”
“She’s definitely going to have a thing for blond architects when she grows up,” Dorian said with a heartbreaker grin.
Going over to her cub, Ria kissed Mialin’s chubby cheeks, brushed back the baby-fine hair that had escaped from under the ribbon, and just beamed. “Look at her, such an angel.”
She turned to Naya, took Sascha’s baby’s face in her hands, and smothered her in kisses. Naya giggled and kissed her back. “Your friend Mialin saves her bad behavior for three in the morning,” she said with another smacking kiss before turning to Dorian. “Emmett’s bringing my grandmother over in an hour to pick up our cub for a little great-grandma-granddaughter time.”
“Oh, man,” Dorian complained. “We only got her for a few hours.”
“Today.” Ria poked him in the gut.
Watching her packmates and the two cubs in the sunshine, Sascha felt no fear, only a fierce determination to keep them safe. Anyone who tried to hurt DarkRiver’s young would end up mauled bloody. Even an empath had a breaking point—push her too far and she’d hit back. Hard.
The world thought it knew Es and what they could do. It didn’t.
• • •
HAVING left his mate and child at the city HQ, Sascha working from his office while Naya played happily with her friends in the nursery downstairs, Lucas spent the second half of the day at a construction site with Dorian and Clay. He and the two sentinels had just finished their discussions when Clay got a phone call. The other man made a motion with his hand for Lucas to remain as he finished the call.
“Teijan,” he said after hanging up. “Rats picked up a whiff of something—signs of mercenaries coming into the general area.”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of mercenaries?”
“Good enough that the Rats are having trouble getting any kind of a lock on them. All they have are whispers in the African community in the city.” Clay folded his arms, his muscles taut under the gleaming mahogany of his skin. “The community’s scared of whoever these people are and they’re pro-DarkRiver enough to pass on any intel they have, but they don’t seem to know much more than that the group’s called Death Mask.”
Taking off the bright yellow safety helmet he’d been wearing, Dorian thrust a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Good name if you want to intimidate people.”
“It seems like in this case, the name fits.” Clay’s jaw was a brutal line. “According to Teijan’s research, no one’s ever caught them, but they’re rumored to be responsible for massacres and kidnappings across most of the African continent.”
Lucas’s mind went immediately to the threatening chatter about Naya, but he knew the mercenaries could be here for a hundred different reasons—including picking off Lucas or Hawke, or even Nikita. “Any point hacking into Enforcement databases?”
It was Dorian who replied. “If the Rats are this much in the dark, Enforcement will have no idea these fuckers are even in the city.” The sentinel’s vivid blue gaze grew grim. “But whatever’s going to happen, it’ll be soon. We all know groups like this don’t come into an area unless they’re setting up to strike.”