“It could be said”—Judd’s calm voice—“that the humans in the pack should be given the information and allowed to make up their own minds.”
Riaz glanced at the Psy male. “You know a pack doesn’t work like that. It can’t.”
“Yes.” Judd echoed Riaz’s position, the wind rifling through the dirty blond of his hair. “Hawke is responsible for the health of the pack as a whole, and sometimes that means making hard calls when it comes to individual choice.”
“Yes,” Riaz answered. “If our human packmates decided to do this, and the chips failed, their deaths would rip the heart right out of SnowDancer. The gain is not worth the risk, not yet.”
Riaz’s statement echoed inside Adria.
She thought of the risk she was taking, with this passionate, loyal lone wolf who might never fully belong to her, knew she might just be setting herself up for the hardest fall of all. But, as she’d told Riaz, she wasn’t exactly undamaged goods. And … she didn’t ever want to look back and regret what could’ve been.
Life might hurt, might bruise, might forever scar, but it was for living.
“If you think about it,” Judd said as the fierce thought passed through her mind, “the PsyNet is structured more like a pack than anything else, with the Council in place of an alpha.”
Adria shook her head, her wolf rejecting the idea. “There’s a big difference—Hawke’s every decision, whether or not it’s democratic, is for the good of the pack, while the Councilors have a way of using up their people until there’s nothing left.” It angered her to the core that it was the ones who were meant to protect, who were doing the most harm.
“This generation, yes.” Judd’s agreement was solemn. “But Councils pre-Silence
As Riaz responded to Judd, the low rumble of his voice raising the hairs on her arms, she found herself thinking that Riaz was, in many ways, more similar to Judd than he was to another wolf. It would take him time to trust a woman enough to fully open up to her, but once he did, he would be devoted.
Adria didn’t expect such devotion … wasn’t sure she could handle it if it happened, her wolf panicked at the idea of the possessiveness that would be part and parcel of that kind of love. It made her wonder how Brenna handled it with Judd—the other woman wasn’t a dominant, and had been terribly wounded when she and Judd had first gotten together.
But that wasn’t the only thing she wondered. “Do you ever regret being mated?” she asked Judd after they’d made their way from the water bus to the airport and grabbed seats in the gate lounge. Even as she spoke, her eyes followed Riaz’s muscled form as he walked over to the coffee stand to grab them drinks, his hair glinting with hidden highlights of copper and bronze.
Judd gave her an unreadable glance. “An unusual question from a wolf.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier,” she clarified, “to do the work that you do, to walk into danger, if you didn’t have a mate whose heart would break if you were hurt?”
Judd took his time answering, his gaze on the wide concourse and the people walking and running to catch their airjets. “It would be more … convenient,” he said at last. “But it wouldn’t be easier—Silence is based on the precept that emotion is a weakness, but what I feel for Brenna makes me stronger. I fight harder, dirtier, and rougher,
“Sounds like a serious discussion,” Riaz said, handing Judd the bottle of water he’d requested, before passing over Adria’s hot chocolate. “With marshmallows.” A smile that creased his cheeks, made his eyes flicker gold, wild and compelling.
Her wolf awakened at the sight of his own, the happy memories of lying beside him on the bed in their hotel room making it rub up against her skin in primal affection. It was all she could do not to nuzzle her face into his neck. “I can tell you’re drinking your usual sludge.” The scent of his coffee was rich, potent.
“It’ll put hair on my chest.” Lips still curved, he settled into his seat, draping his arm along the back of hers. “So”—his thigh pressing against her own as he pushed into her space in a very male way—“what are you two discussing?”
“Whether emotion makes us stronger or weaker,” Adria said before Judd could mention mating, her heart twisting at the idea of stealing the smile from Riaz’s eyes. “What do you think?”
Taking a gulp of his no-doubt scalding coffee, Riaz said, “I’d say it’s what makes us human in the wider sense. Without it, we might as well be machines.”
“Regardless of their problems,” Judd disagreed at once, “the Psy in the Net aren’t inhuman.”
“Because in some deep part of themselves,” Riaz argued, “they
“Yes.” It was an unexpected response from a man Adria guessed had gone through the most stringent conditioning in the Net. “Silence was never as watertight as the Council’s propaganda machine would’ve led us to believe.” He nodded toward a mother and child walking down the concourse, the child’s hand held tightly in the adult’s.
It was clear by the cool lack of expression on their faces, the subtle stiffness of the woman’s walk, that they were Psy. “A Councilor would say she holds the girl’s hand because it’s a practical method to ensure her genetic legacy is not lost or harmed.”
At that very second, Adria saw the woman shift to block a suitcase from banging into the child, taking the bump herself. “Perhaps it’s even what she believes,” Adria murmured, “but there’s more there.” A protectiveness that had the woman tucking the child closer to her body, her hand cupping the back of the small blonde head.
“Not for all Psy.” Judd stared at a luggage cart about to roll away from an elderly woman, and it came to a gentle, seemingly natural stop. “It’s too late for some, the damage done by the conditioning too deep.”
Finishing off her hot chocolate, Adria gathered up the rest of their garbage and took it to the recycle slot. Riaz and Judd were up and waiting for her when she returned, with Riaz having slung her duffel over his shoulder, along with his own. She had no problem with that. But when the two of them went to fall in on either side of her, she halted. “I do not need bodyguards.”
A confused look from both.
Her wolf flashed its canines. “I
Chapter 45
RIAZ SEPARATED FROM Adria when they reached the den late afternoon San Francisco time. Showering, he pulled on his most well-worn jeans, the fabric soft from repeated washing, and a T-shirt, then made his way to her door. Her scent was damp and warm when she opened it, her hair sleek and shiny from her own shower, her body covered in soft gray pajama pants and a faded purple tee bearing the picture of a depressed cartoon donkey.
A raised eyebrow. “Yes?”
His wolf narrowed its eyes at her continued irritability. Neither he nor Judd had been able to figure out what had put her back up before they boarded the airjet. He’d let her stew in silence during the trip, but now stepped into her space and nipped sharply at her lower lip. “Why are you acting snippy?” He kicked the door shut with his foot.
Glaring at him, she rubbed at the lip he’d bitten. “I just am. Get over it.” She walked over to flop down on her back on the bed. “And go away so I can sulk in peace.”
He fought his smile. Letting it out would be suicidal with a dominant female in this mood. “I have something for you.” He held up the small bag he’d carried over.
A startled light in the brilliant hue of her eyes. “You got me a present?” She scrambled up onto her knees, holding out her hands. “Give!”
He walked across to sit on the bed. “I don’t know if I should give it to someone so bad tempered.” Playful as a pup, his wolf grinned.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders from behind, she closed her teeth gently over the tip of his ear. “I bite, so be careful.”
