Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(120)

“Es can talk to the NetMind,” Ivy Jane explained to Memory. “And because this is your mind, if you ask, it might tell you why there’s motion around it—and why it’s hiding your bond.” A smile. “Do you want to try?”



* * *



? ? ?

MEMORY had put her hand on Alexei’s lower back, now clenched her fingers in his T-shirt. Part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to find out what was happening. She already knew she was designed to work with the most twisted psyches on the planet, and that she contributed nothing to the Honeycomb—which was pretty much all that was holding the PsyNet together at this point.

She’d accepted those truths, even begun to see that perhaps she could help people no one else could reach, but she didn’t know if she could take more. Learning that she was hurting the Net, it’d be one blow too many.

When Alexei took her hand and said, “Give us a minute,” to the others, she didn’t resist, and they walked off a short distance into the shadow of the trees.

“What’s got you tense?”

Her answer had him growling. Before she could tell him to stop it, he said, “Sometimes, mate, you make me want to bite you.” He put his hands on her hips and tugged her close. “Why would the PsyNet hold on to you if you were bad for it?”

She parted her lips to growl back at him . . . and realized he was right. Why hadn’t the PsyNet dropped her like a hot potato when she mated Alexei and had another available network to which to link? Why had it held on to her when she was a strange E who worked with psychopaths and couldn’t do much to heal the Net? Who just took energy and gave none of it back?

“I’m not saying you’re right,” she said, poking Alexei in the abs, “but I’m going to do what Ivy Jane said and try to talk to this NetMind.”

Her wolf smiled a smug smile. “I’m right.”

Glaring at him had no effect. She loved that about him—she didn’t think she could bear it if Alexei ever actually got mad at her. The growling and the snarling, she could handle any day of the week. It was all a front, Alexei trying to keep people at bay because he believed he’d eventually let them down.

Memory had an idea of how to take care of that problem, but first, she’d deal with this. Walking out of the trees, she came to a stop across from Ivy Jane and the woman with dark blue eyes and a warm smile who’d arrived with Kaleb. Memory had seen her on the comm while in the bunker: Sahara Kyriakus. A woman linked to Kaleb by a devoted love no empath could fail to sense.

“Show me how to talk to the NetMind,” she said to Ivy Jane, whose bond with Vasic was as intense but had different colors to it.

“Just ask. It really likes Es.”

Squaring her shoulders, Memory tightened her grip on Alexei’s hand and, closing her eyes, peeked out into the PsyNet. Um, NetMind? Braced for silence, for failure, she physically staggered at the joyous welcome that poured into her mind.

Flashfire images of flowers, of rain, of bright splashes of light, of rushing rivers, of stars glittering in the sky, of a waterfall slamming into a pond.

Her eyes snapped open. She pressed a hand to her heart, her breath rough.

“Memory?”

“I’m fine.” She reassured her mate through their bond. “It’s just . . .”

“I should’ve warned you.” Ivy Jane winced, her lovely eyes penitent. “It can be a little enthusiastic the first few times. Just tell it to go slow. Use images.”

Nodding, Memory returned to the PsyNet and felt an eager, curious presence around her. She slowed down all the images it had sent her and fed it back to the neosentience. The response she received was slower . . . but it wasn’t from the original presence. This being was darker, colder, infinitely deadly.

Memory didn’t push it away. It was like her. If the other Es were the NetMind, she was this darkness. “I see the DarkMind,” she murmured without opening her eyes.

“It’s never caused harm to an E.” Kaleb Krychek’s midnight voice.

“No, it won’t hurt me.” She sent out her greeting again, this time to both presences. They were, she realized, not quite separate anymore, even if they’d once been; one merged into the other at the very edges.

What am I? she asked, trying to send the question in images.

??? The lack of comprehension was followed by more images of water. Rain, fresh and ozone-rich on her skin, the cool ripples of a lake sliding against her body, a river sending up spray as it broke around a rock.

Are you cleaning me? Blood suddenly scalding in her veins, she showed them an image of her under a shower, scrubbing. Her expression was angry. She might not be perfect, but no one had the right to change her!

But the image was returned to her, with her scrubbing the walls of the shower.

Memory opened her eyes. “I’m cleaning the walls of the shower.” She scratched her head.

Vasic said, “Will you telepath us the image?”

Since Memory had imagined herself clothed in that shower, she had no problem doing so. While they considered the meaning of the exchange, she described what she’d seen to Alexei. The aggravating wolf actually rolled his eyes at her. “Lioness, like I said—you take the bad out of things. Obviously, you’re taking the sickness out of the PsyNet. Like a purifying filter.”