Hostage to Pleasure

"Aleine's defected," Vaughn said.



The leopard wanted to purr. The man wasn't so easily convinced. "How sure are we?" What better way to infiltrate an enemy citadel than on the back of an innocent child? Everyone knew predatory changelings were savage about protecting cubs, no matter if they wore human or Psy skin. "She was in deep with the Council."



"Anthony confirmed she's got rebel sympathies." Vaughn didn't have to say any more. Not only was Anthony Kyriakus the father of Vaughn's mate, Faith, he was the leader of a quiet revolution against the vicious straitjacket of Silence. "He's the one who arranged the pickup, though Aleine doesn't know about his involvement, so keep it quiet. He's certain she isn't a spy, but the fewer people who know about his activities, the better."



Much as Dorian respected Vaughn, he had no intention of trusting Ashaya until she proved herself. To him. Because this was a personal war. "She hooked up to the Net?"



"Yeah." Vaughn straightened. "So treat her as a possible leak. I think Anthony's solid, but until we're absolutely sure about her, we don't take any chances."



Mercy nodded in agreement. "Even if she really has defected, as long as she's linked to the Net, they might be able to suck information out of her."



Dorian had never been able to think of the PsyNet as anything other than a hive mind, but now he wondered what it would be to know that the very thing you needed for life could also lead death straight to you. "Where are we going to put her?" It was a question he hadn't realized he was going to ask until it was out.



"Why do we have to put her anywhere?" Mercy said, displaying the ruthless practicality that made her a sentinel. "She could be more trouble than she's worth if the Council's after her. She saved Noor and Jon; we repaid the debt by saving her son and stitching her up. Anthony must have people who can take her in now."



Dorian found his beast's lethal attention focused on Mercy. The reaction came from the same place as his irrational possessiveness - the thinking part of him knew Mercy was simply doing her job and watching out for the pack's interests. It was exactly what he should've been doing - instead of standing guard over a woman who might yet stab the knife of treachery straight into DarkRiver's back.



And still he couldn't make himself move. Fuck.



Vaughn's voice broke into his razor-edged thoughts. "Anthony said she's been given details of a new identity, complete with bank accounts and a path to follow, so, could be, she wakes up and goes. If she doesn't, we might as well take advantage of what she knows - trade-off is we help her."



"True." Mercy frowned. "Plus we do have the woman's son. She won't leave without him, not after everything she risked to set him free."



"And he can't be disconnected from the Web," Vaughn reminded them. "We all know it doesn't hold any of us back from traveling, but I had a talk with Sascha and she's not sure what would happen to a Psy member who tried to go too far. Wouldn't want to test it on a kid."



Dorian glanced at Ashaya and wondered if Mercy was right. Had Ashaya fought for her son? Or had she simply removed him from the equation so she could focus on her own twisted goals? Cat and man both brooded over the answer, because one thing was certain - if she was a spy, she'd have to be broken.



Seated at a table in his home deep in another section of DarkRiver's territory, Clay Bennett stopped what he was doing to check a message that had set his phone to flashing. "It's from Teijan," he said to Tally, handing over some sticky tape at the same time.



Taking it, she blew him a kiss and continued to wrap Noor's birthday present. The little girl was so active during the day, it was hard to keep a secret. "What does he want?"



"I asked for some intel." He pressed in Teijan's code and waited.



The Rat alpha sounded surprised when he answered. "What are you doing awake at midnight?"



"None of your business." He smiled at Tally's admonishing frown. She kept trying to get him to be nice to people. "You got something for me?"



"Yes." Teijan paused. "Hold on, Aneca's sleeping."



Clay waited until Teijan had moved away from the girl. The six-year-old was the first changeling rat to be born in the city in the past decade. It was a measure of the growing trust between the Rats and DarkRiver that Teijan had shared that information. "What are you doing with her?" he asked.



"Babysitting. It's date night."



Clay grinned at the thought of the small, feral fighter of a rat playing babysitter. "Late date."



"They mentioned a hotel room. Bet they'll be back in a couple of hours, though." Laughter in his voice. "Can't stay away from her."



"Wait till you have a kid," Clay warned. "They get their tiny little claws into you when you're not looking, and that's it." Lips curving at the thought of how Noor had suckered him into reading her four bedtime stories tonight, he reached over to hold down an edge as Tally taped it. Her fingers brushed his in thanks and his gut clenched. "So, you hear anything?"



"About the scientist who escaped? Bits and pieces. What do you want to know?"



Clay had no idea how the Rats knew most of what they did. He was just damn glad they'd allied with DarkRiver and not the Psy. "Any word on pursuit?"



"Heard nothing that specific yet - only some whispers of a high-level escape. Did hear something else interesting, though."



"Yeah?"



"Word from Vegas and out Los Angeles way is that Jax junkies are disappearing off the streets."



Jax addicts were Psy as a rule. The drug mutated changeling bodies, a surefire way to keep any of them from trying it. It apparently didn't have much of an effect on humans at all, leaving it a strictly Psy scourge. "Council cleanup?"



"Hard to say. There's something weird about it - with the Council, one day there'd be ten, the next day zero. Right now, it's like they take one or two, come back later for another couple."



Clay didn't have a high opinion of junkies - of any race - but if this was another case of a Psy crazy loose on the streets, they needed to know so they could protect those under their care. "Call me if you hear anything concrete, or if there's any sign of humans or changelings being targeted." If it was contained to the Psy, the Council would take care of it. Say what you would about them, the Council was efficient at cleaning up its messes-except, of course, when it was one of its sanctioned killers that had escaped.



After hanging up, he told Tally what Teijan had shared. "Looks like Aleine is safe for now."



"I want to see her." Her lips set in a familiar line as she repeated the demand she'd already made three times this past hour alone. "We might not have saved Jon and Noor without her. I need to say thank you, offer her my help."



God, she was stubborn, but he was a protective, possessive cat. "She's a threat right now." He growled when she began to argue. "When we're sure she's clean, then you can have a tea party with her for all I care. And you are helping her - through Pack."



"What about Keenan?"



"Kid's probably fast asleep."



"Not funny. I meant later."



"If Sascha okays a visit, fine. Happy?"



"No." She got up, came around the table, and slid into his lap. "You're such a bully."



He felt his lips twitch. "And you're still a brat."



Ashaya came to consciousness in a single heartbeat. Her telepathic senses flared out at the same instant, an automatic reaction honed from years of living a double life. Her Tp status was weak, but it was enough to tell her she wasn't alone.



"You're awake." A familiar masculine voice. "I can hear the change in your heartbeat."



She turned her head toward him. "You're lying."



A raised eyebrow from the lethally beautiful male who sat in a chair in front of the unlit fireplace, playing a pocketknife over and through his fingers. "Are you sure?"



No, she wasn't. Those eyes were piercing in their directness. She could well imagine his senses were acute enough to detect the spike in her heartbeat as she'd woken - a purely physiological reaction she couldn't control. Now, she focused on bringing it back down to a resting rate. "My leg feels much better." She tested it, stretching the muscle, but remaining on her stomach. "Mercy is a good medic."



Dorian spun the knife on the tip of his finger, a feat of balance and skill that held her absolute attention. One slip and that blade would go through flesh and bone both.



"Speaking of Mercy," she said, mesmerized by the incredible grace with which he handled the blade, "where is she?"



A hard glance out of those pure blue eyes. The knife disappeared so fast, she didn't even catch a glimpse of where it went. "You've been out for a couple of hours. Mercy had things to do."



"It's" - she glanced at the clock on the wall by the fireplace - "one a.m."



"That's when Psy like to attack us."



Muscles warming up, she turned to sit up. "I see."



"Your eyes are the wrong color."



"You saw me once in the dark."



"I have the vision of a cat."



Instead of responding, she swung her legs off the bed and, after resting a few seconds, tried to stand. Her muscles complained but held. Mercy was indeed good. She wouldn't be running or winning any endurance contests, but she was no longer dependent on others. Especially not on a leopard who watched over her, but with an edge in his gaze that told her he was barely leashed. "My son," she said, knowing she chanced giving herself away, but unable to stifle the need to know. "Is he truly alive?"



He threw her a small cell phone. "Click through to video."



She did. And found herself watching a minute-long recording of Keenan curled up in sleep, his breathing steady, his hand pressed to the pillow by his cheek. Her baby boy was safe. A rock lifted off her chest. Still, it took considerable force of will to turn off the recording even after the third repetition, and throw the phone back to Dorian. "Thank you."