Slave to Sensation

flickered out forever.

“Sorry, sweetcakes,” Hawke raised his hands palms out, “but you’re his mate. I’m not going to let you kill yourself and have Lucas out for my blood. In that kind of rage, I wouldn’t want to take my chances against him.”

Lucas’s arms became manacles. “What’s he talking about, Sascha?” It was a warning. She’d kept something from him and he wasn’t happy about it. To Hawke, he said, “You can leave now. You got what you came for.”

Hawke looked at them for another long moment before nodding. “We have two more days if the killer sticks to his usual pattern. Protect your woman, panther.” With that the wolves left, tracked out of DarkRiver territory by Mercy, Clay, and Vaughn.

Lucas didn’t wait for the sentinels to return. “Nate, Dorian, secure the house.”

“Lucas,” Tamsyn began, “maybe you should—”

“Stay the hell out of this.” Lucas’s eyes met her shocked ones. He’d never spoken to Tammy like that. “Nate, if you want your mate to last the night, you’d better get her under control.” He wasn’t kidding. There was only so much he could take and Sascha’s keeping a secret had pushed him over the edge.

I’m not going to let you kill yourself…

What did the wolf know that he didn’t?

“Don’t talk to Tammy like that,” Sascha ordered.

“I’ll talk to my pack however the hell I feel like. You don’t get to have a voice until you explain yourself to me.” Grabbing her hand, he began to haul her up the stairs.

A psychic blow hit his chest but he was expecting it and took it with a grunt. “You’re not that powerful a Tk, kitten.” He was in the grip of the panther’s instincts and there was nothing civilized about them.

“Damn it, Lucas. Let me go!” She tried to pull her hand away and kicked out at his shin.

Fed up with her wriggling, he bent down, threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and ran up the stairs. Her weight was nothing to his changeling strength, her fists on his back mere caresses. She was yelling and screaming by the time he got her into the bedroom and locked the door.

When he put her down on the floor, she took a swing at him. Only his lightning-fast reflexes saved him from a black eye. He pinned her hands behind her back before she could try again. Furious eyes met his. The woman in his arms was pure fire and heat, as different from the Psy he’d first met as night was from day.

Desire sparked deep and low in his gut, brought to life by the stunning brilliance of her emotions. This was a fit mate, the panther in him growled. This female would never let herself be crushed by his demands and needs. She’d meet him more than halfway. And she’d fight to the death for him like his mother had fought for his father.

“If you don’t let me go right now, I swear I’ll knock you unconscious,” she threatened. “I have enough Tk for a blow hard enough to rattle your thick skull.”

“I’m not budging until you tell me what Hawke meant.” The scent of her infiltrated his lungs, fuel to the inferno of his possessiveness.

“You don’t need to know.”

He swore. “How do you think that made me look down there? My own mate keeping secrets from me?”

She looked discomfited for an instant. “He shouldn’t have known. Nobody should know.”

“But he does and I have a right to. You’re mine!”

“Don’t pull this alpha thing on me, Lucas. You’re not my alpha!”

He had no desire to dominate her that way. “But I’m your mate.” Leaning down, he nipped sharply at her jaw. Goose bumps appeared on the exposed skin of her neck. “I have certain rights.”

“You’re not my mate,” she protested, but her voice was weak.

“Tell me, kitten. You know I’m not going to let it go however much you want me to.”

Her eyes darkened, ebony spreading over the light. “Why?” she pleaded. “We can’t let that girl die if I can save her. If I tell you everything, you’ll try to stop me.”

“You think I won’t stop you right now?”

“You can’t.” Her eyes were almost pure black. “I can work the PsyNet from behind bars.”

He used one hand to keep her wrists under control, still not sure she wouldn’t go for his eyes like every other pissed-off female he knew. With the other, he clasped the back of her neck. “Yeah, but can you do it while unconscious?”

“You wouldn’t.” It was an outraged whisper.

“To keep you safe, I’d do worse things than knock you out.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We’re going to have to talk about this dominant streak of yours.”

“It’s not a streak. It’s all of me.” For her, he’d try to be reasonable occasionally. Except on this one point. “Are you going to talk or are you going to make me put you under? Do you know how much it’ll hurt me to have to do that to you?”

Her entire body softened. He finally chanced letting her wrists go free. Instead of hitting out at him, she put them on his chest, palms down. “Lucas.” Her eyes were pure black now, so dark that he could see nothing but his own reflection. “The PsyNet isn’t a chosen part of our life,” she began. “It isn’t something that’s forced on us either. It’s necessary.”

“Food and water are necessary,” he said. “Why the Net?”

“My mind isn’t built like yours—it needs to be fed by the electronic impulses of other Psy minds.” She clenched her hands on his T-shirt.

The panther understood at the same moment as the man. “So once you expose yourself as bait and the Councilors pick up on your empathy, there’s no way to get you out?” He was so furious he could barely speak.

CHAPTER 22

“There never was any way to get me out,” she told him. “My shields are about to collapse. My plan won’t change that future, it’ll just speed up the process.” When he remained silent, she tugged at the material under her hands. “I have to do this. I have to try to save Brenna.” Her voice broke. “Let me die proud.”

His entire body rejected the idea of her dying to save another. That other woman was only a name, an image. This was Sascha Duncan, his mate. “No.”

Sascha jerked at the flatness of that sound. Lucas didn’t even sound like he was considering it. “I’ll never forgive myself if I let Brenna die.”

“I don’t care.” Complete implacability.

“Hawke will come after you.”

“No, he won’t.” His eyes were going panther. “Wolves mate for life, too. He knows I can’t sacrifice you for his packmate. She matters nothing to me.” The eyes looking out at her were no longer human.

She tried to wrench herself from his embrace but he wouldn’t let her go. “You don’t have the right to decide this.”

“I have all sorts of rights over you.”

“My mother, Lucas! My mother is hiding a killer. How do you think that makes me feel?” Shame was her constant companion.

“Nikita merely gave you half your genes,” he retorted. “How has she ever been a mother to you? Don’t punish yourself for her. She won’t care.”

Her head snapped at the blow. “I care.”

“I care, too. About you.”

So it went. They fought for most of the night. Sascha was tempted to put her plan into effect without his agreement. However, she knew it would be a senseless waste—there remained the need for a diversion.

A physical distraction could theoretically work if it was large scale, drawing the attention of the minds in San Francisco and the outlying areas. If DarkRiver and the SnowDancers worked together, they could create a multitude of events that coincided and confused.