HAVING POSTPONED NAYA’S visit to Nikita in the face of Vasic’s loss, Lucas used the time to hold a much-needed meeting with his sentinels. Naya was on a playdate deep in DarkRiver territory, while Sascha was working at the aerie with a comm conference scheduled for later in the day.
The two pieces of his heart were safe, and all intelligence from the Rats, as well as other sources, pointed to business as usual in the region. No whispers of mercenaries or other enemy incursions. So his pack was safe. The hunt for the ship meant to have carried Naya away from her home continued, but despite his primal need to destroy anyone who’d tried to harm his child, Lucas had never expected that hunt to be an overnight operation. The searches were running, the information filters all in place.
He lost nothing by pulling Dorian from his duties so this meeting could happen.
The alpha and sentinel relationship was critical to the health of a pack and, snarling need for vengeance or not, Lucas had no intention of allowing his to be damaged by a lack of care. For obvious reasons, he’d decided to hold the meeting at Mercy and Riley’s cabin. Mercy was not up to making the climb to his aerie, though he knew damn well she’d have given it a try had he been fool enough to schedule a meet there.
As for Riley, the lieutenant was nearby, having a sparring session with Indigo.
Now, Lucas called the meeting to order.
Mostly that involved telling everyone to stop trying to get Mercy to spill the beans on the number and sex of the pupcubs so DarkRiver people could win the betting pool.
Mercy, of course, wasn’t budging.
Seated on a comfortable sofa with her legs up on an ottoman Lucas had nudged over and her body leaning against Dorian’s—who had his arm affectionately around her shoulders and his plascast-covered leg on a matching ottoman—the redheaded sentinel just gave her fellow sentinels a feline smile and said, “Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t you hear?”
The others responded with creative threats that made her laugh. Then the entire group naturally fell quiet, their attention on Lucas.
He knew exactly what he wanted to discuss. “I’m fucking sick of people trying to hurt this pack.”
Growls filled the room, every single one of his sentinels in agreement.
“Zero tolerance,” Lucas said, making that call as alpha. “As of now, any individual caught planning or in the midst of trying to harm a DarkRiver child or adult will be executed. We might lose some intel in the process, but fuck that—I want these assholes to think a thousand times before they set foot on our land.” Some predators understood only violence.
“The mercenaries we’re holding, the ones who tried to snatch Naya,” Clay said from his position in an armchair opposite Mercy and Dorian. “What’re we going to do with them?”
“I’m not rational there,” Lucas answered with blunt honesty. “I want to tear them to shreds.”
Clay leaned forward with his hands between his knees, forearms braced on his thighs. “Sascha scrambled two of them. Permanently,” he said quietly. “Tamsyn confirmed it just this morning. We can ship them straight to a secure psychiatric unit.”
“Shit,” Dorian muttered. “Don’t tell Sascha. She’ll feel guilty when she has no reason to.”
Lucas was tempted to follow the sentinel’s advice, but keeping secrets from his mate wasn’t ever going to be on the agenda. “She’ll handle it.” It would stun and disturb her, but Lucas’s mate was strong and she understood what had been at risk. She’d used her claws in defense of her child and no one, not even Sascha herself, could see a crime in that.
Returning his attention to Clay, he said, “The others from the mercenary team?”
Clay shrugged. “I’m okay with an execution order.” His tone was cold, that of a man responsible for the safety of a little girl not so much older than Naya. “They did this for money, took the risk with open eyes.”
“Fuck, I want to do that, too,” Vaughn said quietly from his chair opposite Lucas, Mercy and Dorian on one side, Clay and Nathan on the other. “But news of the kidnapping attempt went international. Everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to fall.”
The jaguar pushed back the unbound amber of his hair. “We have to decide what impression we want to make on the world. There’s a fine line between fear that keeps our children safe and fear that turns DarkRiver from harsh but fair, to monstrous. You know most Psy and humans have difficulty understanding our laws.”
Lucas growled at his best friend, who, right now, was showing an acute grasp of politics. “We’d be handing our enemies a victory by alienating a massive swath of the world.”
Vaughn nodded. “The same doesn’t apply post-warning. At that point, people will blame the assailants for digging their own graves. Pre-warning . . . well, the mercenaries came knowingly into leopard territory. I say we claw them up enough that they’ll always bear the marks”—his own claws sliced out—“then we turn them over to Enforcement. Playing nice with local authorities while making it clear this is the last straw.”
“I like it.” Mercy nodded. “It’ll also calm anyone who might be worrying about our growing power in San Francisco.”
The reality, as demonstrated by the citizens who’d called DarkRiver rather than Enforcement when they saw the truck smash into Dorian’s vehicle, was that DarkRiver could rule San Francisco if it so wished. Lucas wasn’t interested in setting up a fiefdom, but he did want this city to be known as a leopard city, a place only the stupid would attempt to hurt.
Vaughn’s suggestion would achieve both those aims.
“Done,” he said. “I’ll mete out the punishment.”
Any one of his sentinels would’ve done it in a heartbeat, but these men and women had threatened Lucas’s cub. “Mercy, you set up the press conference. We’re going to make a statement tomorrow morning.”
No one would see an out-of-control leopard there. No, what they’d see would be a deadly predator in a suit. Smart and ruthless and no one you wanted to piss off—rather, a man you wanted to keep as a friend. Because he looked after his own.
Mercy made a note, her expression approving and her hand on the curve of her belly. There was no one on the planet as dangerous as a dominant predatory changeling woman whose cubs had been threatened.
Calmer now, he was about to move on to another matter when Nathan brought up Trinity. “Luc, what’s the response been to Ming LeBon’s proposal?”
Lucas smiled and, leaning back in his armchair, put his feet up onto the same ottoman as Mercy. “You should ask our communications expert. She helped me draft the official Trinity reply.”
Mercy bent her head and moved her hand in a flowery gesture, as if taking a dramatic bow. “While we laud former Councilor Ming LeBon’s initiative,” she recited in a deep voice, “Trinity is unique in its tri-racial structure and world-spanning network. Of course, those European signatories of Trinity who prefer to do business only with other local Psy groups are welcome to join what may well be a very useful entity in its own way.”
Dorian whooped and began to clap. “Tell me if I got the translation right: Hey, if you want to turn your back on changeling and human contacts, as well as on all contacts outside Europe, feel free to join this amusing little group formerly important Ming LeBon is trying to cobble together. The rest of us aren’t interested in those who aren’t fully supportive of Trinity.”
“Perfect.” Mercy winked.
Nathan was the only one who didn’t smile. “It’s a lot of power to have, Lucas,” his most senior sentinel said in a quiet tone that held a potent clarity. “Yes, Ming’s a monster, but it’s a slippery slope if the core members of Trinity start picking and choosing who gets to sign the accord and who doesn’t. That’ll lead eventually to a world divided in two.”
Lucas wished the sentinel wasn’t right, but even as he celebrated Ming’s slow downfall, he’d been struggling with the long-term ethics of the situation himself. “I don’t think we’ll ever get agreement on Ming.” The telepath had murdered too many, hurt too many, made too many enemies. Having him in Trinity would poison it.
Nathan nodded, his black hair threaded with a few rare threads of silver. “I know and I know Trinity is in the process of being built. But think about the foundation you lay.”
This was why Lucas was so damn glad Nathan had chosen to give Lucas his loyalty when Lucas became alpha. He’d lived longer, seen more, had a bone-deep maturity. He made Lucas think about his actions. “I’ve been considering proposing an adjunct status for cases like Ming’s.” Not for the ex-Councilor’s benefit, but for the reason Nathan had pointed out.
“It’d give the individual or group access to business contacts,” Lucas continued, “but they wouldn’t be considered a full signatory, would have no voting rights. Their adjunct status would be based on the fact that multiple other signatories have grave concerns about the sincerity of their application.” He breathed out, forced himself to continue, though his panther was growling and clawing at him.
This time, the human side had to take precedence. “If, after five years, they’ve upheld the values of Trinity and not caused any other signatory criminal harm, they would become a full member.”
Mercy was the one who broke the silence. “Will the others accept something like that?”
“I don’t know.” It’d be a hard battle, but Lucas would fight it. He had to or, as Nathan had pointed out, Trinity would be built on a foundation of exclusion rather than inclusion, negating the very reason it had been created. “I think the fact that Ming is too arrogant to ask again should make it easier.” No one else in the world was apt to incite this depth of negative reaction.
“We can fix any damage already done by making it clear that even when multiple current signatories have problems with an individual or a group, that individual or group will still be given a chance to prove their authenticity.”
Dorian was staring at Lucas. “I always knew you were tough, but you’re about to try to take on the wolves, the Arrows, the Forgotten, and God knows who else, all at once.” A sudden grin. “Forget brass balls. Those things are goddamn titanium!”
Laughter tore through the tension, and when Clay got up to make some coffee, Lucas asked for a double shot.
“Can you get me a glass of warm milk?” Mercy asked, then pointed a finger at a spluttering Dorian. “Not a word. I happen to have developed a taste for it.” A pause. “It’s weird.”
Nuzzling at her with the affection of a man who’d known her since they were children, Dorian said, “Dude, you’re growing tiny people inside you. You can be as weird as you like.” He rose to his feet as Mercy smiled. “I’ll get your milk.”
Only after everyone else was caffeinated did they return to pack business. Which happened to once again be connected to Trinity—but this time in a far less fraught way. One of the most basic tenets of the accord was that all parties could contact one another and open lines of communication existed for people across racial, pack, and family lines.
An unfortunate side effect had been a barrage of calls offering DarkRiver various “amazing” business “opportunities,” the offers made by Psy, humans, and changelings alike. Lucas had put Nate in charge of the flood because he not only had the most even temper of them all, he also had the experience to glean real opportunities from the dross.
“It’s died down a little,” Nate reported after retaking his seat, coffee in hand and the sleeves of his blue-and-red-checked shirt folded up. That shirt was clean except for a smear of purple near the collar where one of the twins had gotten jam on it while hugging him good-bye that morning.
“I’ve actually got two good ones to share.”
The first was from a tiny human company founded and run by a couple out of their own home. “Scratch-proof coating for wooden floors,” Nathan told them after introducing the founders. “They swore it’d work against changeling claws, so I had them send me a sample, put it on over a miraculously unscratched part of an upstairs room, then had the boys go to town on it.”
“I don’t have a cub,” Vaughn drawled, “but even I can tell that might not have been the best idea.”
Nathan grinned. “No, the twins understood this was a special treat. Any rampaging through the house and they’ll be facing their mother’s wrath.”
Saluting Nate with his coffee cup, Vaughn took the organizer the other man passed over, then moved to sit on Mercy’s other side. “Wouldn’t have expected a human company to come up with this,” he commented as he, Mercy, and Dorian studied the images on the organizer.
“Me either,” Nathan said, “but you can see it works. I tested it myself, too, to see how it held up against adult claws. Not a scratch.” He took a drink of his coffee before continuing. “I think we should set up a more in-depth talk with them, with an eye toward investing in the company.”
“Do it.” Lucas trusted Nathan’s judgment and if DarkRiver was going to continue to thrive, they had to be open to new partnerships and concepts. Because if Psy could be arrogant to the point of hobbling themselves, Sascha had made him realize that changelings had a parallel failing—a tendency to look inward.
Next, Nathan briefed them on the second possible investment opportunity, before Clay took over to talk about operational security matters. Then it was Dorian’s turn to update them on his hunt for the ship that had been meant to be Naya’s prison. That, of course, turned the mood angry again, as they all thought of what had almost happened.
“Look,” Mercy said afterward, her own anger a hot burn across her skin, “I know we have a ton on our minds and there’s all kinds of shit going down in the world, but we need to talk about this joint party.” She stroked her bump in a self-calming gesture. “It’s important.”
Lucas nodded. A changeling’s strength came from his family, and this celebration, it was all about family. Lose sight of that and they lost what made them changeling, leopard, DarkRiver. “The cubs and pups are excited for it.” The thought brought a smile back to his face.
“Riley’s got intel that says Ben, Jules, and Rome are already plotting a cake-eating contest.” As Mercy spoke, she stretched her ankles by flexing them back and forth.
“Wait.” Dorian peered at her toenails, currently painted a hot pink. “Did Riley do that? I mean since you can’t reach your toes?”
Every cat in the room stared, agog at the idea.
Mercy growled low in her throat. “If he did?”
“Huh?” Dorian scratched his jaw, then smiled that heartbreaker surfer boy smile that had charmed many a woman before he fell madly for his scientist mate. “I’d do it for Shaya if she was a crazy pregnant chick like you.”
“Watch who you call crazy, Blondie.” Mercy gave her best friend a death stare while the others grinned. “As it happens, it wasn’t my wolf. Anu came over with her kit.” She held out her hands. “I went for a metallic-blue accent nail on this end. See?”
Taking one hand, Dorian studied her fingertips. “Does this stuff last when you shift?”
Lucas coughed. “Back to the meeting. You two can have your beauty-therapy discussion later.” Catching the cushion Mercy lobbed at his head, he put it behind his back, then caught a cookie Vaughn threw over, the jaguar having sniffed out the stash Bastien had left Mercy. “Party. Go.”
“Right.” Mercy laid out her choice of location plus the general details of how she thought the event should be run. Then she brought up the guest list. “SnowDancer and DarkRiver yes, but do we want to invite our other allies, or those who’ve helped the pack or are connected to us in nonlinear ways?”
The question felt all the more significant after their discussion about Trinity.
Vaughn was the one who spoke, his voice holding a quiet intensity. “When Faith left the PsyNet, she did it believing she’d never again have any real contact with her father.” Eyes of near-gold met Lucas’s. “It turned out Anthony isn’t an asshole and he loves his children. I think it’d mean a lot to her to be able to invite her father to a pack function.”
Lucas knew Sascha wouldn’t be inviting Nikita, even had DarkRiver trusted the ex-Councilor not to turn around and stab them in the back. Their relationship was very different from the one Faith had with Anthony, but he could see Vaughn’s point.
“There’s also Kaleb Krychek,” he said. “Man can go wherever he wants, find whoever he wants, so there’s no security issue with him.” Not all teleporters could lock on to people as well as places, but Krychek definitely could. “He’s also been a source of assistance and information multiple times. And his mate is family through Faith.”
Vaughn nodded. “Sahara’s tightly linked to the Empathic Collective because of the work she does monitoring their work levels and collating reports on the health of the Honeycomb itself, but Faith still worries about her being isolated.”
Lucas had felt the same concern when Faith’s cousin went back to Krychek after a sojourn in DarkRiver. However, though the dangerous cardinal telekinetic wasn’t sociable by any measure, he appeared not to begrudge his mate the social or familial contact she needed to thrive—he’d teleported Sahara into DarkRiver territory multiple times so she could visit with Faith, Sascha, and her other friends.
“I don’t see a problem with inviting Sahara and Kaleb,” Dorian said. “And Faith’s father seems like one of the good ones. Shaya likes him.”
Clay simply nodded in agreement.
It was Nathan who spoke next. “I’m fine with inviting them, too, but we’ll have to change the location. Currently, while neither pack circle will be compromised, Mercy and Riley’s home will be—and they’ll have pupcubs there very soon.”
“That’s a big minus.” Mercy worried her lower lip. “The only other possible location is the empathic training compound, but they’re running full classes back-to-back.”
Lucas frowned. “I’m not sure that’s right. Give me a second.” Taking out his phone, he sent a message to Sascha, got a response back nearly immediately. “The current class closes in just over two weeks and the next one won’t start until two weeks after that. We can hold the event during the time the area is vacant.”
“Perfect.” Mercy patted her belly. “If these little guys are still snuggling inside, we’ll celebrate their impending birth rather than their actual birth.”
“And,” Clay said, “there’s no security issue with the people we want to invite. They all have to know the location by now.”
“Anyone else outside the pack we want to invite?” Lucas asked.
“Max and Sophia.” Clay placed his empty coffee mug on a nearby table. “They’re friends, but they’ve also earned an invite after the number of times they’ve quietly assisted the pack.”
“I think leave off the falcons and BlackSea this time around,” Nathan said. “They’re allies, but the relationship is still in progress in both cases. We’re better off sticking to one-on-one meetings for now.”
Mercy nodded. “I don’t think they’d expect an invite at this point.”
No one disagreed.
It was Clay who spoke next. “There’s another group that also won’t expect an invite but that I think has more than earned one—trouble will be convincing the wolves of that.”
In the end, they found themselves with a fairly limited list of outside-pack guests that Lucas would discuss with Hawke. This was a joint event all the way, so neither side would be making unilateral decisions. “If SnowDancer agrees,” he said, “we’ll probably end up hosting a few Arrows, too, courtesy of Judd’s connections.”
His phone beeped before any of the others could answer. It was an alert from BlackSea requesting that, as an ally, DarkRiver stand by for the next forty-eight hours ready to render assistance should it be required: I hope we need it, Miane had written. Because that would mean we’ve found Leila and are in the process of ripping another head off the hydra that is the Consortium.