"I would agree with you, Ivy," Anthony said in his calm, tempered tone, "but Sophia Russo and Max Shannon remain the only Psy-human bond in the PsyNet. No such bonds have formed since the fall of Silence. We'd be giving our people terror without even a flicker of hope to balance it out."
Kaleb didn't think in those terms, but he understood them because his mate did. His heart was hers, every broken, twisted part of it. Sahara also believed true love would win in the end, conquer hate and anger and fear. He called her a dreamer. She just smiled and told him she'd be proven right.
I loved you right into my arms, didn't I?
How could he argue with that when he'd been a scarred, dangerous monster she'd coaxed to her with nothing but laughter and tenderness and love?
"We have no reason to rush a decision," Nikita said. "These HAPMA fools are killing their own people. Only a small percentage of the victims have been Psy. Our populace isn't screaming for answers."
Cold-blooded and practical, that was Nikita. She was also right, except for one thing. "Sooner or later--I'd guess sooner--the tide will turn." Kaleb had seen too much darkness to believe otherwise. "If they manage to convince enough humans of the truth of their claims, Psy will become the targets." Kaleb didn't care about his race as a whole, but Sahara did. She'd asked him to save them.
Kaleb didn't break his promises to her.
"Kaleb is correct." Aden's voice was gleaming obsidian, as black as the martial shields around his mind. "This will only have one outcome, and that outcome is bloodshed on a massive scale as ordinary humans turn against the Psy."
Nikita shrugged off Aden's warning. "Most Psy can defeat humans."
"No," Anthony responded, "they can't. Not if humans take shots from a distance or use grenade launchers to blow up Psy houses or any of a million ways in which they can kill without ever getting within psychic distance."
"No." Ivy Jane's voice shimmered with empathic power, the wave of it hitting them all. "No more blood, no more war. We are not the Council and we will never be the Council. We have to find a way to save our people and the humans." Her mind blazed with empathic sparks. "We give Bowen what he wants. We build a way for humans to shield their minds."
Kaleb had known it was Ivy who'd make that call. He'd also known Nikita would object to it. "We hand that over, and we lose all negotiating power."
"This isn't about negotiating," Ivy countered. "It's about honor and integrity and goodness." Potent emotion in every one of her words. "Today, here, this is our chance to be different, to not be Ming LeBon and Shoshanna Scott and Tatiana Rika-Smythe and Marshall Hyde and all the Councilors who drove our people into hell."
She didn't add Nikita's name to that list, but the implication was there. This was Nikita's chance for redemption, too. Kaleb didn't need it. He'd never walked the Council's path, despite being on it, Sahara's the voice that held him back from evil no matter how twisted his soul.
"A vote," Anthony said. "Those in favor of Ivy's motion?"
Ivy. Aden. Kaleb. Anthony . . . and Nikita.
Chapter 24
Hope is the greatest gift and the greatest evil.
We hoped for so many eons that we could contain the firestorm of our minds, that we could use our psychic abilities without going mad, without shattering into violence, and so we continued on despite the heartache of losing our children and watching our children's children get ever more fractured.
Hope saved us and hope might yet kill us.
--Extract from The Dying Light by Harissa Mercant (1947)
THIS TIME WHEN Silver walked into the Cavern after her morning shower, she hit the breakfast rush. Seeing her, Dima the Barnacle ran over but didn't clamp onto her leg. Huge brown eyes, shaded by the thickest lashes she'd ever seen on a child, fearlessly held her own.
"You wan' bweakfast?" he asked in accented but readily understandable English.
"Yes, thank you."
He slipped his hand into hers, his flesh soft. "I show you."
Having readied herself for physical contact after noting how the cubs always touched the people in their vicinity, Silver permitted Dima to lead her to one of the large tables--with bench seats--that had been set up nearest the freshwater-fed pond in the corner of the Cavern.
Sunlight beamed down on the table from high above. That light, as well as the closeness of the moss-covered rocks and the scent of the tiny white flowers on the vines that crawled over the walls, made it feel as if they were eating outside.
Dima scrambled onto the bench seat alongside her. "I eat breakfast, too," he said, switching to Russian with the ease of a child who'd grown up speaking two languages.
"Where did you learn English?" she asked him.
"Great-gamma Caroline," he said in English. "Uncle Mishka says I'm smart." An angelic smile before he returned to his half-eaten bowl of what appeared to be oats with dried fruits. Dipping his spoon into the oats, he lifted it up, put the spoon into his mouth.
A drop of oats fell onto his blue jeans.
Not thinking about it, Silver picked up the cloth napkin beside his bowl and wiped off the food before it could set. Dima kept eating while she dampened another corner of the napkin with a drop of water from the jug on the table, and further wiped the spot clean.
"Spasibo." The Barnacle finished his oats with enviable speed, put down his spoon, then stood on the bench seat. He'd pressed his lips to her cheek and was scrambling off the bench, chortling, before she realized his intent.
"You gotta watch bears." Anastasia Nikolaev slid into the empty place beside Silver, her long legs clad in black jeans over which she wore knee-high black boots. Finishing off the outfit was a thin round-necked sweater in cherry red, which showed off her impressive breasts. "They have a way of getting their paws on you. Even if they're tiny paws."
"I think I'll survive." Silver could still feel the soft, slightly wet kiss against her cheek, the contact lingering.
"You eat this, right?" Anastasia passed over a basket of bread that had been making the rounds of the table. There was a dangerous grace to even that small action; Anastasia Nikolaev moved like the dominant protector she was.
"Yes." Choosing two plain wheat slices, she passed the basket to the person across from her, a teenager who was inhaling his food as if it were about to become a scarce commodity.
"Hi, Silver. Chaos said this is for you." The juvenile who'd put a small jar next to her was gone in the direction of the kitchen before Silver could respond.
"Kitchen duty," Anastasia said, spreading peanut butter onto her slice. "All the kids do it as soon as they're old enough." A nod at the jar. "What'd Chaos get you?"
Opening it, Silver saw a familiar substance. "Nutrient spread." She picked up a knife and began to spread the nutrients onto a slice; she needed the burst of concentrated energy. "Does Chaos look after all guests this way?"
"He looks after all of us." Anastasia's attention was diverted at that moment by an older packmate who'd taken a seat on her right. White-haired, face wrinkled with life, the female had a soft voice Silver couldn't hear from this distance.
Silver took the opportunity to look for Valentin, saw no sign of him. She did, however, pick up an odd emotional resonance in the Cavern that had her instincts prickling.
"Good morning, Silver." Nova slipped into the seat the starving teenager had vacated. "You going into the city today?"
"No." She had to see this through, had to find out who she was without Silence . . . and with Valentin.
Nova waggled both eyebrows. "That decision have anything to do with you having a certain alpha in your bedroom last night, hmm?"
"Privacy seems to be an unknown concept in the clan."
Eyes dancing, Nova poured a mug of coffee from the carafe on the table. "We can mind our own business--once a day. Maybe twice if we're very strong willed."
"Novochka should know." Anastasia took the mug of coffee her sister passed over, while Nova poured another for herself. "She's got her nose in every pie in t
he den. Sniff, sniff, oooh, then sniff, sniff again."
"Healer's business." Nova's expression was the definition of prim. "How's the leg, Jane?"
The white-haired woman beside Anastasia released a deep sigh. "I'm getting old; that's how things are."
"Oh?" Anastasia looked askance at the elder. "Way I heard it, you were climbing a tree with your mate when you injured yourself."
Nova threw back her head and laughed a laugh nearly as big and warm as Valentin's. "Busted! I knew it had to be something interesting when you refused to tell me how you'd ended up with an eversion sprain."
The elder, her cheeks pink, said, "I have no idea what Stasya is talking about. I turned my ankle during a perfectly ladylike walk."
"Talking of walks," Nova said after the laughter died down, "anyone want to wander down with me to look in on the wild bears on the other side of the lake?"
"I'll come," a woman down the table said, her accent lyrical. "I need to waddle a little more while this cub grows fat enough to pop out." She rubbed her rounded belly.
"We'll go slow," Nova promised.
"That's my current fastest speed." The pregnant woman stretched as Silver identified her accent as Irish. "I love my cub, but I can't wait to run again. Really run."
Silver had seen the brown-haired woman move around the Cavern and could categorically say she was far more mobile than Silver would've expected of someone in her advanced stage of pregnancy. Especially since she wasn't changeling but human.
"I'll join you if that's all right," Silver said. "I didn't leave Denhome for most of yesterday, should get some fresh air."
"You're not too busy dealing with the fallout from yesterday's violence?" Anastasia asked, her crisp tone far different from Nova's warmth. Anastasia, Silver thought, always had her eye on the clan's overall security, as was her job as Valentin's first second.
"I do need an hour and a half to clear up a few matters." The emergency part of the response was over, thus ending EmNet's involvement. It was now all in local hands. "If you don't mind waiting," she said to Nova, "I can come then."
"Sure, that works. Moira, that okay with you?"
"Yes, I need to wrap up a present for my pen pal so Leonid can drop it off in the post." She waved at Silver before she left. "See you soon."
It only took Silver another minute to finish her own meal. In that minute, she finally realized what had been disturbing her about the atmosphere in the Cavern. The boisterous moments at the table aside, it was quiet. The Cavern was never quiet, much less with this many bears gearing up for the day.
"Something's wrong," Silver said to Nova as the healer rose to leave the table. "Is that why Valentin isn't here?"
Nova's expression became tight. "Not yet, Seelichka. You're not one of us yet."
With that and a touch of her hand to Silver's arm, she walked away. Silver glanced at Anastasia, got a hard shake of her head. "I like you, Silver, but I don't have a big crush on you like my baby brother, and I'm not gentle like Nova. You want my trust? You earn it."
Silver held the greenish gray of the other woman's gaze. "You're very much like me, Anastasia."
Lifting two fingers to her temple, Anastasia saluted. "I figured that out a long time ago." A faint smile. "What I said still stands."
"Understood--but is there anything I can do to assist Valentin in dealing with whatever problem he's handling?"
The other woman's smile faded into what seemed to be a deep-rooted anger. "This, only my alpha can solve--even though he shouldn't have to."
Soon afterward, her mind pulling at the reins in a futile effort to search for Valentin, Silver made her way to StoneWater's tech room. Taking a seat at the system she'd commandeered, she used it to handle matters that didn't require impregnable security. For those, she used the organizer she'd picked up from her room on the way.
When the hairs rose on the back of her neck, her skin prickling, she wasn't in the least shocked. Part of her had known he'd find her. "You weren't at breakfast."
Valentin leaned down to brace his arms on the back of her chair, his scent and the unapologetic size of him taking over the space. Rubbing his jaw against her hair, the stubble catching on the strands, he said, "Miss me, sleepyhead?"
Silver sent an e-mail, began to read another. "Why should I miss you? There are any number of virile males in the den who I'm sure would be happy to volunteer for my experiment."
A rumbling sound behind her, thunder rolling across a storm-dark sky. Claws pricked her throat as he closed his hand around it. "That," he said, speaking against her ear, "was mean."
"It was truthful." Silver found herself leaning her head back against him, her words breathy and her breasts feeling full in a way that seemed to demand Valentin's big hands massaging the aching flesh.
The rumble came again. "Take it back." Teeth nipped at her ear.
She jerked, having not expected the act--having never even thought about it in her entire life. Her nipples tightened against the deep cerise of her vee-necked sweater. "Don't you believe other men would volunteer for my sex experiment?"
"Silver." His voice wasn't human any longer.
Lifting her hand, as her thighs clenched in a response she couldn't explain, she reached back to weave it into the heavy strands of his hair. "It appears I only wish to run this experiment with a certain gentleman bear."
Another rub of his cheek against her hair, his hand sliding up and down her throat. "I can smell you, Starlichka. You want me." The words were a pleased rumble. "When can I lick you?"
Chest rising and falling in rapid breaths, Silver said, "Now."
He growled at her, as if he were a lion and not a bear. "No, I can't. You know what happened last time when we rushed it." Despite the harsh words, he didn't break contact. "Distract me from imagining you naked, all soft and open for me, your pussy glistening with your honey."
Silver lost the train of her thoughts. All she could see were Valentin's wide shoulders between her thighs, the dark strands of his hair brushing her skin in a thousand caresses as he licked her up. "You're putting sexual images into my head."
An unrepentant chuckle. "Good. I woke up with a cock so hard it hurt." He began to play with her hair with his free hand. "What have you been doing this morning?"
Silver told him, then asked, "Did you have early duties in your territory?" She was careful to keep her voice neutral; if he wished to speak to her about what had muted an entire clan of bears, he would . . . but it mattered that he didn't trust her.
"An alpha always has duties."
Silver was no expert at emotion, but she knew she wasn't mistaken about the sadness she heard in his voice. "Valyusha?"
"I just need to pet you this morning. Let me?"
When Silver leaned back a little further into him, he kept on stroking her throat, the skin there far more sensitive than she'd ever realized.
"What's this?" he rumbled a while later, indicating her computer setup.
"EmNet work." Though she hadn't answered any messages since he circled her throat and began to talk to her using words she'd always considered coarse, but that had taken on a whole new meaning when spoken in Valentin's deep tones. "You're a distraction."
A satisfied chuckle that was pure bear. "Good." He rose after another gentle stroke that rubbed his callused palm against her skin. "Now stop making me crazy and do your work. We'll continue our experiment tonight." A pause, a rough kiss pressed to her temple. "Thank you, Starlight."
She turned to watch him leave, this big, brash bear who had so much more to him than most people would ever know. It was a near-compulsion to go to him, ask him to tell her what was wrong so she could help fix it, though she had no claim on his secrets.
Silver wanted that claim.
A pounding in her ears, her heartbeat a drum.
It took her a long time to calm her mental pathways enough to finish her work. Valentin was far more than a distraction. He threatened her very stability, made her consider a life she'd al
ways believed was for other people, impossible for her.
A telepathic ping. Silver.
What is it, Arwen?
I hesitate to mention this, but there's been a change in your emotional equilibrium.
Of course, Arwen would notice. Is that a problem?
It's not bleeding out. I know simply because of our connection.
Because Arwen was the sole E in the Mercant family. He was the one who anchored Silver to the Honeycomb, keeping her sane and mentally healthy in a badly damaged psychic network none of them could leave. Will you report this to Grandmother? Silver would do that herself when the time came, but right now, she needed to walk her own path.
Of course not. Empathic ethics forbid such disclosures. It was a rebuke. Even if they didn't, I'd never betray you. A pause. Are you sure? The risk--
Is significant, I know. She was always listening for a breach, for her brain to begin to rebel. But I need to know if Silence is the only path. I need to know if I have a choice.
Arwen's simple response held an undertone of intense hope. If anything does threaten to bleed out into the PsyNet, I'll contain it until you regain control. Good luck, Silver.
Luck. If only that were the final decider and not the mutant piece of genetic code that had marked her from childhood.
Silver's hand curled on the desk.
She found herself reaching for her phone, inputting Valentin's code. But she didn't press Send. He was having a hard day; she didn't need details to understand that for a man like Valentin to be so sad, the pain had to be devastating. He'd thanked her for giving him a moment of peace.
She wouldn't ruin that.
Putting down her phone, she got back to work. She was seventy minutes into it and all but done when Yakov poked his head into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Starlight--"
He winked at her icy look. "I mean, Silver," he said, with no sign of repentance in his tone, "but my brother says the 'supermodel cutie pie,' end quote, is here. I can guide you to the meeting spot."
Chapter 25
Every decision has a consequence. Nothing can change that law of nature.