Allegiance of Honor (12 page)

“You’ve definitively decided on a prosthetic?” Aden hadn’t expected that. “Last time we talked, you were leaning against it.”

“I don’t need one,” Vasic admitted. “I’ve adapted.” Sleeve neatly pinned up, he teleported away the malfunctioning unit. “But Samuel saved my life and, oddly enough, this obsession helps keep him anchored. He usually only requires three or four hours of my time a month—it’s little enough payment for the life he gave me.”

“Does he realize you no longer want a replacement for your biological arm?” Zaira put her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed on behalf of a man she’d ignored for most of her life. “And if he succeeds, what then? You’ll be stuck with it.”

Unexpected humor in Vasic’s response. “I’m certain Samuel doesn’t care if I actually
use
the prosthetic. Getting a unit to function with my damaged systems is his whale. Once he does that, I’ll fall off his radar and he’ll find a new obsession.”

Aden was in full agreement: Vasic was a puzzle to be solved for Samuel Rain. That didn’t mean Aden wouldn’t protect the man for the rest of his life. Mad genius or not, Rain had saved the life of Aden’s best friend. That was a debt that could never be repaid. “The BlackSea situation,” he said into the undemanding silence among the three of them. “No new data on the kidnapped marine biologist from our sources. Changelings say the same.”

Seeing Zaira’s body tense to trembling point, he put his hand on her lower back. It was a silent reminder that she was no longer a child in a cage, that she stood with her lover and their friend underneath a sunlit sky. Free.

A dark-eyed glance from his deadly commander before she took a deep breath, and he felt her muscles begin to unlock.

“I’m assuming you’ve had no success locking on to the Canadian Cheap Electric symbol?” he said to Vasic.

The other man shook his head. “Judd was right. There are too many identical hits on the CCE logo and I can’t zero in on Leila’s face because of the damage from the scarring.” The winter gray of his eyes held an arctic chill.

“Zaira’s point on this,” Aden told his best friend. “Get all intel to her.”

An immediate nod from Vasic. While the teleporter wasn’t aware of the details of Zaira’s childhood, he’d been with her during the last rescue, understood her hunger to free the trapped.

“Trinity,” Vasic said as sounds reached them from another part of the Valley, where it appeared a martial arts class was in session. “Holding?”

“Fragile. There’s too much divisive history in the mix.”

“A summit would be useful.” Vasic hunkered down to pet a small white dog who’d run back from his adventures across the Valley. As he did, the wedding band he wore on his right ring finger caught the light, creating a golden spark. “If not for the obvious risk.”

“Yes.” Zaira folded her arms, set her feet apart. “It would generate a sitting target for the Consortium or anyone else who might want to take out a large percentage of the major powers in the world.”

Aden considered Vasic’s words, thought about Zaira’s on-point risk assessment, felt the germ of an idea. “We turn the Consortium’s tactics back on them,” he said. “No big central summit but small ones that introduce the key people in each region to one another.”

“Limiting the spread of information about the meetings, while achieving cohesion.” Vasic nodded slowly.

“In Venice,” Zaira said, her eyes faintly narrowed in thought, “the Human Alliance and I had an understanding. It kept the peace.” She bent to pet Rabbit when the dog wandered over, tail wagging triple time. “Simply knowing that your neighbor is open to dialogue could eliminate a large number of localized problems.”

“I’ll start testing the idea,” Aden said, then glanced at Vasic. “How’s Tavish?” In keeping with the squad’s decision to place Arrow children into families with active-duty Arrows, the young telekinetic boy was now part of Ivy and Vasic’s family unit—a unit that included the dog who, at present, was lying on his back, tongue lolling in ecstasy and legs in the air while Zaira rubbed his belly.

“Settling into the orchard.” Vasic’s voice held a deep, quiet joy when he spoke of his home. “He spends a lot of time with Grandfather.”

Then, Aden thought, the child was in good hands. Zie Zen—who, in truth, was actually Vasic’s great-grandfather—had more wisdom in his bones than most people would ever gain, not even if they lived two lifetimes.

“Can you stay?” Zaira asked Aden. “We could spar.”

Aden loved pitching his wits and tactical skills against Zaira’s, but he had to shake his head today. “I have a meeting with Devraj Santos in five.”

The Forgotten had requested the squad’s assistance in dealing with the wild new psychic abilities cropping up in their children. Aden was certain the change had begun even earlier, specifically with Santos’s generation, but the leader of the Forgotten wasn’t giving away anything about his own abilities.

However, after his conversation with Ivy, Aden had another critical issue to discuss with Dev. The Forgotten’s psychic network was a vibrant, living thing in comparison to the deadly disintegration pulling the PsyNet apart at the seams. It was possible the other man had useful insights Aden could pass on to the Es. “Can you give me a lift,” he said to Vasic, “or shall I ask Nerida?”

“I’ll pick you up in three minutes.” Vasic ’ported out with Rabbit, leaving Aden and Zaira alone.

At which point the woman who was Aden’s hauled him close with a grip on his T-shirt and proceeded to kiss the life out of him.
You’ve become an expert in that
, he telepathed to her when his brain cells started functioning again.

We’ve been practicing enough.
Inside his mind, she was black fire. In
front of him, she was kiss-swollen lips and a possessive touch—and icy determination
.
“I’m seeing Miane later today.”

“Be careful.” Aden cupped the side of her face. So delicate were her bones, in stark contrast to the intensity of her will. “The Consortium might have gone under but they’re only hibernating, waiting for a chance—and they know how important you are to me.”

“They also know I fight like a berserker.” Zaira’s smile was all teeth. “After the last assassin I took down, they’re going to have a serious recruiting problem looking for someone to hunt me.”

Aden thought of the recording he’d seen of Zaira with the point of a blade touching the assassin’s eye. She’d been all cold control on the surface while she fought a primal battle within. She’d won that battle, hadn’t given in to the rage that lived within her. And she’d made her point: Do not mess with an Arrow, especially this petite Arrow with her dark hair and midnight eyes and dangerous walk.

“Be careful anyway,” he said, his heart right there for her to see. “I need you.” Zaira was his, the only person in the entire world who belonged first to him.

“Aden.”
Zaira touched her fingers to his lips, the ruby in her ring a silent representation of the flame that lived within her. “You stay safe, too. Or I’ll kill you.”

Aden felt laughter shake his shoulders. “Order heard and understood, Commander.”

“Good.” Sliding one hand to his nape, Zaira tugged him down. “Now kiss me again before Vasic returns.”

From the private diaries of Father Xavier Perez

February 14, 2074

Nina,

It’s been ten months now since the Psy came. Ten months since I watched you jump into the water. Ten months since I promised I’d be right behind you.

I wasn’t. I’m so sorry, Nina. I fought them, fought to keep you safe, to keep them from knowing where you’d gone. I was no coward, I promise you this. I’m not alive and writing this letter because I hid. I fought, Nina. I fought so hard.

They took us down one by one with telepathic blows. The bodies of those we loved fell on me. When I rose to consciousness, they were heavy atop me . . . and I knew they’d saved my life. Because of my younger brother and Jorge, the soldiers missed the fact I was still alive, still had a pulse. I live because of them.

And yet here I sit in a bar drinking away my life because what use is it to be alive when I’m alone, without God, without family, without friends, without you? I would do anything, fight anyone, if only you were here. But you’re gone and I’ve forsaken God for his cruelty.

Xavier

FORTY-EIGHT HOURS AFTER
Aden first told Lucas of the possible threat to Naya, DarkRiver had upgraded all its security precautions regarding their young. The panther inside him in a much calmer mood now that he knew his cub and all the cubs under his watch were well protected, Lucas had far more patience for dealing with the shaky edifice that was Trinity.

“Aden’s getting ready to test intimate Trinity ‘summits’ that would act as introductions between various groups,” he told Vaughn.

The DarkRiver sentinel was sprawled in a chair on the other side of Lucas’s desk at the pack’s Chinatown HQ. With amber hair tied in a neat queue at his nape and eyes more cat than man, Lucas’s closest friend wasn’t involved in Trinity—politics wasn’t really Vaughn’s strong suit—but like all of Lucas’s sentinels, he was highly intelligent.

Scanning the memo after Lucas turned the whisper-thin computer screen toward him, Vaughn shook his head. “Tell him to nix the idea of planning each of these summits ahead of time. Set up a trustworthy team to throw things together with an hour or two of notice max.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Hard to get people together that quickly.”

“So it takes longer to make the connections—but if there are no plans, then no one can hunt down the attendees as a group.”

It was the answer of a predator.

“You’re right.” Far better, he realized, to go slow than to rush and give the enemy exactly what it wanted.

“My work here is done.” Vaughn rose to his feet with feline grace, a smile in his eyes that had become less and less rare in the years since he’d found his F-Psy mate. Before that, Vaughn had been a loner even in the midst of a pack. A loyal friend, a trusted sentinel, but always holding himself a little separate.

Part of that was his jaguar nature, but part of it had been the echo of a soul-searing grief.

“Hello, Miss Naya,” the jaguar said now, reaching down to pick up the tiny cub who’d scampered into the room.

Lucas’s panther growled in welcome inside him.

In truth, his cub’s scamper was more “attempted scamper,” but she was so excited at being able to shift forms that she did it every chance she got. Needless to say, keeping her in clothes had become a losing proposition. Good thing that changelings were used to naked babies scrambling gleefully around.

This baby had been in the nursery next door, must’ve snuck through the connecting door into the offices. Not that anyone tried too hard to keep the cubs out. The only time that door was locked was when they were in meetings with business associates who weren’t trusted enough for DarkRiver to be carefree with its children.

Business trust was a far different beast from the trust that came with being family.

Allowing Vaughn to hold her against his chest with one capable hand, Naya purred. She loved the jaguar.

“Careful.” Lucas’s heart ached at the sound of his cub’s happiness. “She’ll be scamming you for chocolate next.”

Vaughn chuckled, using one finger to rub the top of Naya’s head. “I’m heading home for a run before I meet up with Faith.”

Naya roared—or tried to. It came out more a kittenish rumble.

Grinning, Lucas translated. “I think she wants to come. But you won’t be doing much running with her.”

Vaughn’s eyes caught his, the shade near-gold. “You okay if I take her? I’ve got the jetcycle but I can switch to an SUV.”

Fighting his overprotective instincts, Lucas said, “She loves the jetcycle.” Vaughn was a skilled driver, and the jetcycle’s maneuverability gave it an advantage should anyone attempt to follow Vaughn and Naya with the aim of doing harm.

Lucas wouldn’t steal joy from his child in the name of keeping her safe.

“Yeah,” Vaughn agreed. “She’s a little speed demon.” He put Naya on his shoulder, where she curled up as if she’d been doing it forever, wrapping her tail around his neck to anchor herself. “I’ll run in human form, hold her when she’s had enough. Message me when and where you want me to drop her off.” He tugged playfully on Naya’s tail. “Come on, Miss Naya. Let’s go run. But first we’ll sign you out of the nursery so the teachers don’t worry.”

Naya growled and made bye-bye noises at Lucas as Vaughn walked out the door. Lucas trusted his friend unconditionally. Yet he still had the urge to lunge up and haul her into his arms.

It took teeth-gritting will to fight the primal desire.

She was safe. Vaughn was a lethal predatory changeling. He’d fight to the death to protect her . . . and it was good for the jaguar to open his heart to such a small, helpless packmate. Lucas hoped Naya’s determined love of Vaughn would help the other man heal from the staggering loss that had devastated him as a child.

Lucas’s phone buzzed.

Looking away from the door through which Vaughn and Naya had disappeared, he answered to find his mate on the other end. Of course she’d picked up on his silent fight against instincts formed when he’d been a young boy helpless to protect his parents from a deadly attack. He’d been tortured, too, but Lucas could’ve borne that. It had been watching his parents die in front of him that had marked his psyche in a permanent way.

Sascha understood the brutal competing drives inside him.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “Vaughn’s bringing Naya home. Where do you want him to drop her off?”

“The aerie. I’ll be back by the time he actually turns up.” Sascha’s smile was in her voice. “You know he kidnaps her for hours and she’s a very happy kidnappee.”

“He lets her finger-paint the walls of his den, that’s why.” Their cub always turned up squeaky clean, without a speck of paint on her, but Naya couldn’t keep a secret.

“Forget about walls, Faith told me she came home last time to find Naya finger-painting Vaughn.”

Chuckling at the idea of the quiet, intense sentinel happily acting as the canvas for an enthusiastic toddler, Lucas asked, “How’s the lesson going?” Sascha was up in SnowDancer territory, working with Toby Lauren.

“He’s more reticent than usual. Lara warned me, said that he might be in the first stages of teenage-boy-itis.”

“I remember that phase. Being surly is a requirement.”

“I can’t imagine Toby surly.” A pause, a rustle. “I’d better go. He’s getting restless.”

Hanging up, Lucas forwarded Vaughn’s suggested changes to the summit idea to Aden, then got up and headed out to a work site. He needed to stretch his muscles, see how the project was going. It would also stop him from worrying constantly about Naya.

Sometimes, an alpha had to let go and trust his pack to watch over that which mattered most.

•   •   •

HAVING
driven the jetcycle to DarkRiver’s Yosemite territory with a delighted Naya safely tucked up inside his zippered leather-synth jacket, only her head poking out and her eyes squinting against the wind that ruffled her fur, Vaughn parked the vehicle in a designated spot just inside the forest. Unlike when he traveled alone or with Faith, he’d logged this trip with Jamie and Desiree; the two senior soldiers were in charge of keeping track of pack children moving in and out of the city.

No cub was going to disappear and not be immediately missed.

Still straddling the powerful body of the jetcycle, Vaughn used his phone to check in, informing his packmates that Naya was safe inside the heart of DarkRiver territory.

He’d ensured they had no tail, his senses on high alert.

Swinging his leg over the jetcycle after sliding away his phone, he spoke to the cub who was a source of living warmth against his chest. “I hope you appreciate that I drove like an old lady for you.” He’d never forgive himself if Naya came to harm while in his care.

A tiny panther head nudged the bottom of his chin.

Scratching her under her own chin, he smiled. Truth was, it still hurt to see Naya, to hold her. She reminded him so much of Skye. His baby sister had been jaguar, not leopard, but she’d had the same mischievous spirit, the same affectionate sweetness. Vaughn might’ve been tempted to keep his distance from his best friend’s cub, protect himself, but it was impossible. From the instant he’d picked her up after her birth, Nadiya Shayla Hunter had owned a piece of his heart.

“Yes, we’re home,” he said when she made questioning sounds. “Down. Stretch your legs.” Placing her on the ground with careful hands, he watched as she got her shaky feet under her.

Then she “ran” beside him while he walked at a pace slower than a sleepy five-year-old’s. Tail curled up in pride, Naya growled at all sounds from the forest, the big predator who was going to eat anything that dared encroach on her territory.

Vaughn added his growls to hers, got an approving look in response.

He’d left his jacket with the bike in preparation for his run, but Naya lasted longer than he’d expected. Finally exhausted, she permitted him to pick her up and hold her against his chest as he broke into a full-speed run, the tall firs of Yosemite passing by in a greenish-brown blur while beneath his booted feet, the grass was a lush green that sprang back after the feline lightness of his steps.

Tiny claws dug into him, but he didn’t censure her as he would have had she used them in play. She was just holding on. But she wasn’t scared. Of course not. She was the daughter of an alpha.

She was exhilarated.

Slowing to a jog when he was almost home, he was down to a walk when he entered the cave system within which lay his lair. The scent he caught in the air made him grin, his jaguar rising to its feet inside him in wild welcome. “Hello, Red.”

Faith looked over from the sofa, where, clad in nothing but a short slip of a dress, she was eating a big bowl of cereal. “Naya!”

Her delighted cry had Naya scrambling down to run over.

Climbing up onto the sofa beside Faith through sheer grim effort augmented by a little help from Vaughn, she put her paws on the bare part of Faith’s thigh and peered curiously at the bowl of cereal. Clearly deciding that the brightly colored flakes looked delicious, she licked out her tongue.

Faith pulled the bowl out of reach just in time. “No, you don’t. I am not getting in trouble with Lucas and Sascha by teaching you bad habits.”

Plopping down on her butt, Naya shifted and tugged at Faith’s sea-green dress while making sounds that might’ve been her name. “There you go.” Faith fed Naya a spoonful after checking to make sure the cereal was soft enough with milk that it would be easy for her to eat.

Vaughn watched Naya eat it up, then ask for more. “She’s hungry after shifting so much today.” It took significant energy for the young, likely because their bodies were mid-development
and
because the shift did odd things at this age.

Like giving Naya the cub far more dangerous teeth than Naya the toddler.

“I can’t believe she’s shifting.” Faith fed their little guest more cereal. “Yes, you are clever,” she said, leaning down to kiss Naya on the cheek. “And you’re really hungry.”

Vaughn went into the kitchen area and found the box of cereal, as well as the milk. Putting both down on the small table beside Faith, he grabbed a throw to wrap around Naya so she wouldn’t lose body heat. “She’s too little to regulate her temperature like we do ours,” he told Faith when she looked up with a question in her eyes.

“So I should make sure she keeps the throw around her?”

“For the next few minutes at least.” He tugged on Naya’s hair. “Don’t get cold, Miss Naya.”

He got an enthusiastic nod that made the lush black of her tumbled hair gleam under the simulated sunlight of his and Faith’s lair. “She’ll be fine once she’s settled into this form,” he told his mate. “Just touch her skin, make sure she’s not chilled.” Getting a nod of confirmation from Faith, he dropped a kiss on the fiery red of her hair. “I’m going to shower off the sweat.”

She tipped up her head so that he could kiss her on the lips. Stroking his hand over the slender arch of her throat, he nipped at her lips, licked over the sensual hurt. Faith’s hand was just coming up to cradle his jaw when Naya made a grab for the cereal bowl. “Fae!” she said, as if trying to get her tongue around “Faith.”

Faith laughed, managed to steady the bowl. “Yes, I know. Less kissing, more cereal.”

Naya clapped her hands. “Kiss!” That was clear enough, especially when she tipped up her head to Vaughn.

Remembering Skye again, emotion a knot in his throat, Vaughn kissed the tip of her nose. Once. Twice. As Naya laughed, Faith lifted his hand, touched her lips to the back of it with a tenderness that said more than any words. He ran his knuckles over his mate’s cheek before walking over to the shower—which looked like a waterfall cascading from the stone wall, a feat he’d gone to great lengths to achieve.

Vaughn could hear his mate and his friend’s cub talking animatedly as he stripped off and stepped under the water. Naya was so engaged that it sounded like a real—if largely incomprehensible on one side—conversation. The sounds made him chuckle, and this time, his memories of Skye were of when they’d been happy.

She’d been just as chatty, talking his ear off about everything under the sun, including her favorite toys and flowers and how come the sun was yellow and the grass was green? And why did bees buzz? Her little face would screw up as she considered each question while waiting for his response.

He’d often replied with nonsensical answers that made her laugh so hard she’d fall to the ground with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

Grass is green because that’s the color of insect poop.

Bees buzz because they’re really miniature jet-choppers.

Washing off the suds with a smile born of the memory of his sister’s delight, he dried off, then pulled on a clean pair of jeans. He’d just grabbed a leftover slice of pizza for an afternoon snack when Faith got a call. She answered it, Naya busy amusing herself with a cardboard box that had once held a cutting tool Vaughn needed for his sculptures.

Right now, the box was on her head.

His shoulders shook.

Faith’s own smile was deep as she spied Naya’s antics, but when she spoke after hanging up, it was in a quiet tone. “My father says Tanique is in town.”