“Your NetMind might be good, but it’s not the only one who knows where you are,” Clay reminded them.
The conversation turned once again to the question of how to protect her from the Council. Someone brought up a recording—one that apparently showed the confession of a Psy killer.
Clay shook his head. “We play that card, we have to be prepared for war.”
“None of our reasons for not going public with it have changed,” Lucas added. “Let’s save it for a last-case scenario. Vaughn?”
Vaughn grunted and it was agreement.
“They won’t stop hunting her.” Dorian spoke for the first time, his voice so coldly angry that she wanted to hide from it. “Murder is what they’re good at.”
“Anybody dares touch her, I’ll eviscerate them.” Vaughn’s words held the calm confidence of a beast that knew it was the most dangerous of predators.
“Well, there is that,” Sascha said. “If she keeps her mind heavily shielded, they’ll have to get close to attack her. DarkRiver can take care of them before they reach her.”
“How long can I live like that?” Faith shook her head, frustrated that her earlier knowing had faded into mist. “There must be some way to keep them from making an example out of me.”
Vaughn’s hand was on her nape, a possessive grasp. “They’ll never get that close, Red.”
She believed him.
“We have a walk-through at the site with Nikita tomorrow,” Lucas said into the pensive silence. “Let’s see if they’re open to a deal—Faith’s too valuable for them to do something stupid and risk getting her killed.”
The meeting ended soon afterward.
Vaughn had driven
to the meeting as far as he was able, then run the rest of the way with Faith riding his back. But as their feet touched the ground after leaving the aerie, she asked to be put down.
“Let’s walk awhile.” Her eyes were more black than he was used to.
“I’m at your command, Red.” Taking her hand, he led her through the trees until they hit a pathway almost completely hidden from sight.
“What do you see?” she asked him. “I could have never located this path.”
So he showed her the marks, the clawed parts of certain trees, the subtle positioning of rocks that appeared randomly strewn. “It’s a code, a way of speaking to each other that doesn’t rely on words or on telepathy. We can read these signs in either human or cat form.”
She traced a pair of claw lines with utter gentleness. “A language the Psy don’t even know exists.”
“My Psy does.”
She let him lead her deeper into the forest. “Lucas is right; if the Council comes for me, it won’t be to kill me.”
“You’re worth too much alive.” His gut burned. She was so much more than a moneymaking machine. She was a woman of spirit and courage with a gift that had the power to change the course of the future itself.
“I didn’t say anything to the others, but I don’t think Nikita is going to agree to a deal. There’s nothing to deal with. We don’t have proof that Marine’s murder was a setup.”
“Like Lucas said, it’s a last-case scenario, but we do have Enrique’s confession on record.” He told her about the former Councilor’s crimes and his punishment. Vaughn had been there that night, had taken vengeance on Lucas’s behalf because his alpha had been locked in an attempt to save his mate’s life. “He gave us everything.” Before they’d ripped him into a thousand bloody shreds.
Face pale, Faith squeezed his arm with her free hand. “You agreed with them that you couldn’t use that.”
“We won’t. Not unless we have no other choice.”
“No, Vaughn! Not ever. If you back the Council into a corner, they
will
come at you with everything they’ve got. And they’ll kill your most vulnerable, the children, first.”
His vows as a sentinel slammed up against his unspoken vows to her. “You’re my mate.” A loyalty that overshadowed any other.
“That’s why I’m asking you to never use that recording on my behalf.” Stopping, she looked up into his eyes. “I need to know that I didn’t bring death into this new family. I need to know I’m something good.”
“You’re everything good.” He enfolded her in his arms. “Don’t worry. We have the capacity to take them on—we had to devise a countermeasure after Sascha’s defection. The cubs will be safe.” Exposing them to danger had never been a possibility.
“But how many adults will die in the fight?”
“You’re Pack.” And Pack stood together. He’d bled for them and they’d do the same for him.
“I can’t have their blood on my conscience.” She hugged him hard. “Promise me you’ll never use that recording in a fight for me. Not even as a last-case scenario.”
“And if I don’t?”
CHAPTER 25
“Then I’ll turn
myself in to the Council.” An intractable expression clouded her face. “I’ll do it the first chance I get.”
He knew she was stubborn enough to go through with the decision. “You’ve left me no choice.” And the beast was angry at that, at her. But what enraged him most was having his hands tied. Judd had taken out the killer. Lucas and Sascha were meeting Nikita. He could do seemingly nothing to protect the one person he
needed
to protect. “Get on.” He didn’t want to speak any longer.
Faith didn’t argue, letting him hoist her onto his back and then holding on as he raced through the forest, an animal on two legs, a jaguar caught tight in the grip of a trap that had no acceptable way out. Tonight he saw nothing of the beauty around him, felt no exhilaration, no joy. He was furious at everything and everyone. The Fates, the Psy who was his mate, and mostly, himself.
Ignoring the waves of tenderness coming down the mating bond, he poured himself into the forest and let the beast take over. Though he remained human in shape, his mind, his heart, his soul became jaguar. And the cat didn’t allow human foolishness to color its thinking. It just was.
Vaughn didn’t know how long he ran in that semishift state, but they were close to the car when his keen hearing picked up something very odd. He came to a complete stop. Faith clutched at him and he knew she was about to speak.
“Shh.” He kept the sound extremely low.
But she’d heard. The second he released his grip on her legs, she slid down with utter quietness, allowing him to ease her down using his strength. Once there, she remained motionless. He scanned the surrounding area with his animal senses and felt every one of his instincts flare in warning.
Glancing over Faith’s head, he looked back the way they’d come. The perfect tree stood almost directly in his line of sight. He turned his back to her and she jumped on. Moving with the catlike silence that was second nature to him, he retraced his steps to the large sequoia and began to climb, using his claws to dig into the wood. Faith held on tight and didn’t say a word as he went ever higher. He was proud of her.
When he spotted what he was looking for, he shifted position so she could get off and sit down in the hiding place formed by the intersection of several branches. Only then did she whisper, “What did you hear?”
He made sure she’d be invisible from the ground. “Something that doesn’t belong.” Leaning in, he kissed her. His way. Hard, savage, and raw. “Don’t leave this tree until I or one of the pack return for you. And don’t try to telepath Sascha or use any other Psy sense.”
The stars in her eyes were blotted out by blackness in an eyeblink. “They’ve come for me.”
“Nobody will touch you.” That wasn’t even an option. “Do exactly what I told you. They might be able to track you if you try anything Psy.” He wasn’t Psy, but he was a soldier—he knew about strategy and drawing out a target.
“Let me help,” she whispered.
“I’ll tell you if I need you.” He watched understanding spread across her face. The mating bond wasn’t Psy, therefore the others wouldn’t be able to intercept it.
“Be safe and come back to me.”
He had every intention of doing that, but first, he had to get rid of some vermin. Going back down the tree took almost no time. He touched the ground with silent feet and started to determine and categorize what his senses were telling him. There was definitely more than one Psy out there.
That they’d gotten this far into DarkRiver territory without alerting anyone told him they were good. Very good. Vaughn had no intention of underestimating their skills. He also knew he had to get them before they realized he was hunting. Otherwise, they’d smash his mind with a blast of pure power.
Stripping off the jeans, he cached them a small way up the tree and went jaguar. The Psy might be good, but this was Vaughn’s territory and in this territory, his paws were silent, his senses even keener, his savagery unparalleled. These Psy had broken the first rule when they’d come into an area off-limits to anyone but cats and wolves. They’d broken the second by lying in ambush for his mate.
The first was a mistake. The second, unforgivable.
Vaughn walked a ways on the ground before taking to the trees. His sense of smell was not as strong as his sight, but it was far better than an ordinary human’s, sufficient to tell him that there was a Psy to the left of his position and within meters. He padded along a branch until he was directly on top of the male. Dressed in black, his face camouflaged with paint, the Psy lay flat on the ground, one eye pressed to the scope of what looked like a Series III Ramrod.
An illegal rifle meant for hunting big cats.
Vaughn didn’t give the Psy any warning. He couldn’t be allowed to send a telepathic signal to his team members, though the communications link clipped to his ear probably indicated they were maintaining mind-silence.
They didn’t want to tip off Faith.
In that case, they were likely not scanning the area telepathically either, relying on their physical senses alone. Mistake number three—never go into a predator’s territory thinking to beat him at his own game.
Slamming down on the male’s back, Vaughn crushed his skull between powerful jaws before the Psy ever knew he’d been marked as prey. He’d broken the would-be assassin’s back, and in all likelihood killed him, with the jump, but no one could rise after his brain had been caved in as this Psy’s was.
One down.
Pain shot through the mating bond. He froze. Faith had experienced his kill. It had disturbed her. He waited to see what she’d do. And realized the pain was for him—for having to do this for her. The jaguar had no time for such foolishness. Of course he’d do this for her—she was his mate.
He took to the trees again, knowing she was with him now. That was good. She should see the other side of his nature, know that he wasn’t human, wasn’t civilized. Then he silenced that thinking part and became the predator again. West of the first Psy, he found the second. This one had a small gun in his hand. Not a weapon meant to kill, but to subdue. For Faith.
This Psy was more wary, scrutinizing the area around him with the trained eyes of a scout, looking up into the trees with every sweep. He knew what hunted him. But jaguars were patient—Vaughn simply waited until the male was scanning a different section, then dispatched him with the same efficient technique he’d used on the first male.
Two down.
The third was northwest of the second Psy. He saw their tactic at once. A half circle with his vehicle as the center point. Likely six armed Psy mercenaries. Now two were dead and the positions of the other four had become obvious. Mistake number four. He’d never have placed his men in such a predictable pattern. But, of course, the Psy thought of changelings as animals too stupid to reason.
Mistake number five.
Assassin number three was gone in a minute. Four followed. Five actually saw Vaughn coming and fired off a shot, but that was as far as he got. However, he’d warned number six. Instead of launching a psychic attack, the last Psy took off, zigzagging through the forest on an evasive path that would’ve eluded most humans. Unfortunately for him, Vaughn wasn’t human. He could’ve let the Psy think he was getting away, could’ve tortured him by playing with him, but that wasn’t who he was.
He stayed in the shadows as he ran down the sixth assassin, knowing the Psy couldn’t attack him if he didn’t know where he was. Changeling minds were tough. Psy had to aim and focus to destroy them—a diffuse hit would never penetrate his natural shields. In the end, taking the man out was almost an anticlimax. The Psy had no idea what hit him. One second he was running, the next he was dead.
The jaguar flipped him over onto his back and Vaughn shifted into human form to search the body for evidence of further plans. He found something in the left pants pocket. A small, flat, closed pad that he immediately identified as a long-distance remote. Flipping it open, he checked the computronic readout.
The car was rigged to blow.
If they hadn’t been able to capture Faith, they’d had orders to destroy her. He growled. It was a good thing these men were already dead. Shifting again, he took the pad in his mouth and ran back to Faith. There was blood on his fur, which would translate to his skin when he changed forms. That couldn’t be helped. But he was human and dressed in his jeans by the time he came to her.
“Are you alright?” Her eyes flicked over every inch of him. “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s not mine.” He watched her expression for signs of disgust.
Instead, it was only relief that showed. “I got the sense that one of them got off a blast.”
“He missed. Come on.” He brought her down from the tree.
Her face remained white, strain lines at the corners of her mouth. “You had to kill for me.”
“It’s what mates do.” He kissed her for several long minutes, grounding his beast in the feminine scent of her. By the time he drew away to pull the pad from his pocket, there was a healthy flush to her cheeks. “See this?”
She took the pad. “It looks like a remote of some kind.” She placed it in the center of her palm, her curiosity apparently cutting through the residual shock. “Exceptionally compact and nothing that’s on the market at this time. I’d say it’s a prototype from Exogenesis Labs—they had me do some work last year.”