CHAPTER 22
Councilor Anthony Kyriakus looked at the husk that had been Samuel Rain and turned to the M-Psy standing next to him. “His chances of recovery?”
Laniea glanced reflexively at the electronic chart she likely knew back to front. “Small but not negligible. We were able to go in and remove the last threads of the compulsion, relieving the pressure on his brain.”
“But?”
“But there was a lot of damage. We’re not going to know how much until he wakes . . . if he wakes.”
Anthony knew Samuel Rain had been a brilliant robotics engineer. What would it do to him if he woke to a reality where he could never again create anything? “The signature on the compulsion was degraded. Did you find anything else during the scan?”
Laniea shook her head. “The compulsion was woven by a highly experienced telepath—the signature was the first part of the programming to go.”
“Send me the details. I may have missed something in my initial scan.”
The telepathic transfer was concluded in less than a second. Laniea put the chart on the end of the patient’s bed and shook her head. “There’s one thing I haven’t factored into his chances of survival and perhaps I should.”
Anthony waited.
“His will.” The M-Psy shook her head. “He shouldn’t have been able to fight the compulsion, but he did. Maybe he’ll fight death with that same strength.”
It was a diagnosis that came perilously close to taking emotion into account. But Laniea knew Anthony would never betray her.
“Perhaps,” Anthony said, “we lost more than our emotions when we embraced Silence. Perhaps we sacrificed the very thing that made us fight for our right to live.”
“If it’s waking again,” Laniea said, “it’s doing so with violence.”
“But not in Samuel Rain.” Anthony saw in this young man’s refusal to surrender, a beacon of hope for his entire race. “In him, it woke to avert violence.” Faith, he thought, would be so happy to hear that. His daughter saw too much darkness, her foreseeing gift dragging her deep into the abyss.
And yet despite it all, she kept growing ever stronger. It was dangerous for a Councilor to feel pride, to feel anything, but deep in the recesses of his mind, hidden behind a thousand shields, Anthony was proud of the woman his daughter had become. Now, he nodded to Laniea and left to update Faith on Samuel’s condition.
CHAPTER 23
Mercy woke the next day to the clawing viciousness of her cat, a twisting, agonizing need that refused to let her rest. What worried her was that it wasn’t only sexual. She
She’d have sublimated her need in work, but she’d been ordered to take time off by Lucas, given the “ridiculous number of extra shifts” she’d pulled over the past few months. Saying he needed all his sentinels fully functional when this calm broke, he’d gone so far as to cancel her rotation on the city surveillance, meaning she was utterly free.
And miserable.
Hoping a cold shower would snap her out of it, she dragged herself to the bathroom. A message was waiting for her on the comm panel when she exited. Noting the familiar number, she called through. “Ashaya, what’s up?”
Ashaya’s distinctive blue-gray eyes widened in surprise. “That was quick.”
“Lucas ordered me to take the day off. The cheek.”
Ashaya smiled—that smile was still new, but there was no doubting it came from the heart. “I was going to ask you for a favor, but you should do something fun on your day off.”
“I’m going insane,” Mercy muttered, rubbing a hand over her heart. “
Ashaya’s smile faded into concern. “Mercy? What’s wrong?”
“My hormones are taking over my brain.” God, she was going to bite Riley hard for doing this to her. How had he addicted her to him so quickly?
“Oh.” Ashaya nodded. “I’ve had a few of those moments since my defection.” Turning, she laughed at something Dorian had probably said before looking back. “As for the favor—I promised Amara I’d bring up something I’ve been working on. Do you think you could do it for me?”
Ashaya’s twin was seriously nuts, but she was also smart as hell. “Won’t she want to see you?”
“No, we’ve set up a meeting at a later date.”
“What am I transporting?”
“One of those chips we found on the humans who attempted to kidnap me,” Ashaya said. “I’ve been taking it apart bit by bit, trying to figure out how it works, what it does. Amara has a copy of her own, but I want her to see something I’ve found, get a second opinion.”
“You get the report with my notes on Bowen’s take on the things?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m attempting not to jump to conclusions, however. I also got your message about speaking to Nash.”
“Any luck?”
“No,” was the disappointing answer, “but I’ll try again in a day or so. He may just be overwhelmed right now.” She turned again, the electric curls of her hair shifting with abandon. “Wait, Dorian wants to say something.”
The screen switched to audio-only and she realized Dorian must’ve taken the portable handset outside. “Merce, I did that Enforcement check for you. The same knife was used in both kills in Tahoe.”
“Damn.”
“I’ve renewed the alert to our people in that area and they’ll get the word out to the nonpredatories. Drew’s handling the info-spread on the SnowDancer end. Problem is, Enforcement’s got nothing else yet, so we can’t get specific.” His voice dropped and he blew out a breath. “Where the fuck do they keep coming from?”
“I wish I knew, Blondie.” She used the childhood nickname on purpose, nudging him away from the edge of darkness. He’d become so much more balanced since mating with Ashaya, but she knew he’d always mourn his murdered sister. So would she—as a child, Kylie had been determined to be included in all of Dorian and Mercy’s nefarious schemes, no matter that she was far littler.
After Kylie’s death, Mercy had made a determined effort to remember the good times, the mischief, but her heart still hurt at odd moments—like when she saw something she knew Kylie would’ve loved. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Dorian. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “Or should I call you Boy Genius? That one seems to be catching on.”
“Watch it, Carrot,” he said, then chuckled. “I’m handing things back to Shaya—Keenan says I’m missing the best part of today’s episode.”
The comm filled with Ashaya’s face again, her curls looking wilder than before. “What’ve you been doing?” Mercy asked with a grin.
Ashaya blushed. “Let’s say Blondie is a fast mover.”
Any lingering concern Mercy might’ve had for Dorian disappeared. “I’ll be by in, say, two hours? That okay?”
“We’ll probably still be curled up in bed, watching cartoons.” Her eyes filled with affection. “My mate and son have discovered a mutual love of superheroes and breakfast in bed. They’re determined to convert me.”
The image Ashaya had sketched—of a lazy family morning—was so appealing that Mercy was almost surprised. Almost. Because she’d realized long ago that family was an integral part of her dream. “Don’t get crumbs on the sheets.” As she hung up to the sound of Ashaya’s laughter, she realized that Sierra Tech, where Amara worked, was smack bang in the middle of SnowDancer territory.
