Caressed by Ice

“Lara,” Judd said when the healer turned to leave.

She raised an eyebrow.

“What would’ve happened if I’d moved and disrupted—” He didn’t want to say the words in case they had a negative impact on the child.

“Don’t worry.” Lara stroked one hand over Ben’s head as he laid it on her shoulder. “The process isn’t that easily messed up. Otherwise the Psy would’ve taken advantage of the weakness by now.” She seemed to have forgotten she was talking to one of the same race. “An extremely big disruption can cause errors in a shift. Most can be corrected—so long as it’s not a major part of the brain that’s compromised.”

“But to shift near someone implies a relationship of trust.”

Lara smiled. “I guess Marlee must like her uncle Judd a whole lot.”

“Only she likes her dad more,” Ben said in a stage whisper.

“Oh, well”—Lara winked—“second’s not so bad. ’Bye, Judd.”

Judd found himself raising his hand in response to the wave Ben gave him over her shoulder. He was still standing there trying to process the extraordinary encounter when D’Arn passed him.

The soldier stopped, then retraced his steps. “Let me guess—a woman or a pup.”

“How did you know?”

“Not much else puts that look on a man’s face.” He grinned. “Me and a few of the others are going out to play some training war games. Want to come? Release the tension, you know—everyone’s thinking about Tim. He was no prize, but he didn’t deserve to be murdered. And now this thing with the hyenas.”

“Any progress there?” If he’d thought the hyenas had targeted Brenna on purpose, he would’ve gone hunting himself. However—and though he could find no cogent reason for that suspicion—his instincts said that Timothy’s murderer was the real threat. Even revisiting the scene this morning after speaking with Sienna hadn’t clarified things. He had the unwelcome sense he was missing something.

“Some. We’ve got a bead on the bloody scavengers, but they don’t need all of us today.” D’Arn shook his head in a curiously canine gesture. “Anyway, you in?”

He nodded. Brenna was safe in the den and he had no surveillance work lined up. It might be that a hard physical workout was what he needed to clear up his brain so he could connect the dots he knew were there. “Rules?”

The other man began walking. “Human form. Drew’s going to hand out laser badges. A hit with a laser rifle will register from anywhere on your body and list itself as a slight injury, a debilitating one, loss of eyesight—you get the drill.” He pushed open a door.

“Teams?” Judd had played similar military games both in psychic and physical terms. An Arrow who wasn’t a shadow didn’t survive long.

“Two.” He pushed through an exit. “Psy and human/changeling.”

“Psy?” Judd asked as they made their way out of the White Zone.

“If you’re not Psy, you have to hit the target in the back.” He scowled. “Against all the rules of normal fighting, but if a Psy sees you coming during the game, you’re automatically dead. No second chances.”

Judd agreed—because while Psy couldn’t manipulate changeling minds without massive effort, they could kill with a single focused blow. “You have human soldiers?” He had his Psy abilities to compensate for the changelings’ advantages in terms of speed, sensory input, and physical strength. Humans, by that reckoning, had nothing. “People who have mated in?”

D’Arn shook his head. “Not all. Saul’s ex-navy. He mated in. But Kieran was adopted as a child. Sing-Liu you’ve met.”

Judd had never guessed that the small female with the flat eyes of a fellow assassin was human. She moved more like the DarkRiver cats. “Martial arts?”

“Nope. Our little China Doll likes knives.” D’Arn had barely gotten the words out when a knife whistled incredibly close to his ear and thunked home in a tree. Instead of going on alert, D’Arn laughed and threw up his hands. “I was kidding, honey.”

Sing-Liu materialized from their right. “One of these days,” she threatened, striding over, “you’re going to push me too far. And then I’ll have to make you eat your words.”

The SnowDancer male retrieved the knife he’d dodged and held it to his side. “Promise? Will it involve kinky things with rope and knives? Please?”

Judd wondered if D’Arn had a death wish. But then Sing-Liu laughed and kissed the soldier, eyes turning from assassin to pure seductive woman. Unexpected was not the word for it.

“Mated pair.” The words came from Drew, who’d just walked up. “China Doll’s a nickname. She doesn’t mind—use it if you like.”

“And get a knife in my back,” Judd said, his Psy brain comparing D’Arn’s behavior with Sing-Liu to his own with Brenna. It didn’t take a genius to tell him he wasn’t giving his wolf anything close to what she needed. “I think I’ll pass.”

“I had to try.” Drew shrugged. “On to the games.” His smile was distinctly savage.

Judd was more than ready, the tension in him wound to a fever pitch. “Let’s play.”

Brenna had been looking for Judd for twenty minutes without success. Sascha had just left after several hours of talk. The empath hadn’t been able to give Brenna any answers but had convinced her that she didn’t “smell” insane. Now she wanted to share her relief with Judd, wanted to tell him that the violent woman who’d shredded his skin yesterday had been an aberration…even if she didn’t quite believe it herself.

“Lucy”—she stopped her friend in the corridor near Hawke’s office—“you seen tall, dark, and silent?”

“Which one?” the other woman deadpanned. “Your one’s playing war games with Andrew and some others.”

Bren felt her face pale. “What?”

“Don’t worry,” Lucy called out as she headed off. “He’s a big boy.”

But Drew was bloodthirsty, especially with men who dared be involved with his baby sister. And after the way Judd had faced him down yesterday…“Calm, be calm,” she told herself. “He’s Psy. A very strong Psy.” Oh, God. What if Judd killed Drew?

She thrust a hand through her hair. Inspiration struck. She could either go mad worrying or…Turning on her heel, she ran after Lucy. Her friend smiled and opened her mouth to speak.

Something crashed in Hawke’s office. They both looked up as the door was wrenched open and Sienna Lauren came striding out. The door slammed shut after her, as if it had been kicked. The seventeen-year-old didn’t see them—she was heading in the opposite direction, head down, fists clenched.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “That one doesn’t act Psy, does she?”

“No.” Brenna thought about going after the clearly upset girl, but Sienna didn’t know her and would probably not welcome the interference.

“Not like your one. That man is pure ice. Sexy ice but still ice.”

Brenna had a moment’s pause. “How do you know we’re involved?”

Lucy’s laugh was open and honest. “Did you hit your head or something, Bren? You smell like him, silly.”

“Oh.” But she shouldn’t, not that deep. A scent layer only grew ingrained—unable to be washed off—between lovers. Something she’d never become with Judd if he got himself executed for killi—Stop! “Lucy, I need a favor. Can you get access to a vehicle?”

“Sure. So can you.”

“Not without Riley finding out. Um, I’m kind of under den arrest.” She was going to break the rules, but she wasn’t going to be stupid about it.

“Riley’s got some burr under his bonnet,” Lucy muttered. “He chewed me out yesterday for nothing. I’ll sneak you out and it’ll be my pleasure. Where are we going?”

“Miss Leozandra’s Beauty Parlor.” Smack bang in the middle of Chinatown.

He was going to take care of unfinished business this morning. The den grapevine had confirmed that the bitch was finally alone and unprotected. All he had to do was lure her to one of the dim corners of the garage.

She’d come. If she had remembered his face, she would have squealed by now. It didn’t matter. She had to die—he couldn’t take the chance of her memory returning. They’d rip open his stomach and pull out his guts while he was still alive if they learned what he’d done. The drugs and Timothy’s murder were nothing