Slave to Sensation

“No.” She shook her head. “The print is faint. Most Psy wouldn’t even be able to detect it.”

But she had, he thought, because she felt. Instead of making her confront something he was convinced of but she was clearly hiding from, he used his free hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “So the info’s been buried deep?”

She nodded. “I’m going to try a few other things tonight.”

He smelled fear in the air. “Will it be dangerous?”

“I’m a cardinal Psy.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s all I have to give you.” She pulled her hand from his.

Some time later, Lucas sat in the huge kitchen of their largest safe house, talking to Tamsyn and two of the most dangerous males in his pack. Dorian had fought his inexplicable handicap by skilling himself in human martial arts to such an extent that he could take down a fully grown leopard with his bare hands. Nate was perhaps even more lethal-he had cubs to protect. “How many here?” Lucas asked.

“Fourteen maternal females, twenty cubs, eight juveniles, and six other soldiers aside from you three,” Tamsyn said from the counter, where she was organizing medical supplies.

He turned to Dorian. “Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yes. Over half the children are already on their way to safe harbor.”

“Let’s start moving the remaining cubs and the vulnerable females tomorrow morning.” The soldier females like Rina would remain behind. Many of them were far more deadly than the beta males. “Continue sprinkling the elders in among the evacuees.” Their old ones would ensure DarkRiver’s traditions were passed down no matter what.

“Why wait till tomorrow?” Nate leaned forward.

“If we move en masse, we might tip off the Psy that something’s up.”

“What about Sascha?” Dorian asked. “Is she going to help us?”

Lucas looked at the sentinel, trying to gauge whether he was really as calm as he sounded. Mere days ago, he’d been willing to gut Sascha where she stood. “She’s trying but we have to plan for the worst-case scenario.”

“That she fails and Brenna’s body turns up.” Nate shoved a hand through hair starting to show faint signs of gray. “If that happens, whatever Sascha might’ve found becomes a moot point.”

Tamsyn walked over and put a hand on her mate’s shoulder in silent support.

“I don’t want that.” Dorian’s tone was as sharp as a blade. “I want the killer’s head. Ripping out random Psy throats isn’t going to be enough.”

“No,” Lucas agreed.

“I spoke to Riley and Andrew.” Dorian’s eyes were suddenly full of such anguish that it was a physical ache. “I convinced them to stay away from the Psy and give us time to find their sister. They listened to me.” Unspoken was the terrible reason why.

Lucas didn’t say anything about Dorian going into SnowDancer territory on his own. “Then we have a few days’ grace. Let’s get our people to safety and hope Sascha can find us the clue we need.” His worry for her vied with his need to protect his pack. But he knew the choice wasn’t his-she wasn’t a woman who’d ever take orders from him.

“You trust her?” Nate asked.

“Yes.” It was no longer a question. He knew.

The sentinel stared at him and then put his hand on the table, palm up. “Then I’m with you. For Pack.”

Tamsyn wrapped her arms around her mate’s neck, her eyes shining with agreement.

Dorian placed his hand on Nate’s, in the same position. “For Pack.”

Lucas put his over theirs, palm down. As their hands closed over his, his closed over theirs. “For Pack.”

Sascha’s fingers were trembling. She slipped her left hand unobtrusively into her pocket and met Enrique’s gaze across the desk that separated them. He’d been waiting for her. Stalking her. The computers had informed her that her presence was required in Nikita’s office the second she’d walked into the Duncan building.

Terrified that someone had picked up on the true purpose of her Net search, she’d entered to find Enrique sitting in her mother’s chair, with Nikita standing beside him. It was a testament to the strength of her shields that not an ounce of her fear had leaked through. However, the trembling in her fingers was refusing to abate.

“Nikita tells me you haven’t had much progress with getting information on the changelings.” It was the most subtle of chastisements. Enrique wasn’t used to waiting for anything or anyone.

“Nothing substantial,” Sascha answered. She’d asked Lucas this afternoon what she could safely tell the other cardinal. It had betrayed that she’d been meant to be a spy but she’d known he had to have guessed that already. Like she’d told Enrique, changelings weren’t stupid. Lucas hadn’t berated her, simply given her what she needed.

“I did discover that they have the ability to change forms from childhood.” That wasn’t a secret-most of the Psy had just never bothered to look.

Enrique leaned forward. “Anything is useful.”