Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(25)

The man would probably poke a bear just because.

A growl brushed against her nape when she continued to focus on putting peanut butter on her toast. Even though her spine itched at having her back to him, she didn’t turn. “Do you want peanut butter?”

A long pause, followed by a grumbled “Yes.”

Memory didn’t make the mistake of thinking she’d won the battle of wills. That had been a mere skirmish. She passed him a slice of toast with the spread on it, then bit into her own piece. She finished half of it before she turned to face him.

His toast was long gone, and he stood leaning his hip against the counter. “I have news,” he said, his eyes watchful. “It’s about you.”

Memory went motionless.

“I sent through your name and likely age range to the pack. Your palm print was automatically forwarded when I added you to the system.”

“Did you upload to the PsyNet?” Her brain buzzed, razor-sharp knives cutting and slicing.

“No. We have hackers of our own.” He took a sip of his coffee, his tone still dangerously even. “I said you were probably around twenty-three to twenty-six, though I’d say the lower end was right.”

“Twenty-three,” she confirmed, her hand tight around her mug of coffee.

“We found you, lioness.” Soft voice, wolf eyes. “Memory Renault, adopted daughter of E. David Renault.”

“Bastard.” The single word quivered with such violent rage that Alexei wondered how it could be contained in such a small body.

“Fucking bastard.” Memory shaped the words as if they were daggers, each one thrusting home in her captor’s heart. Her body was rigid, her muscles clenched so tight that they looked about to snap.

Alexei approved. Anger could burn, could debilitate, but it could also be a weapon of survival. He was so fucking angry with Brodie, and he might stay that way forever, even as his love for his brother would never die. It stopped the grief from overwhelming him in a torrent. Especially today, when the wound was so raw it bled. “Tell me.”

Her gaze sparked with fire at the order.

Alexei felt the urge to bite her. Not hard. In warning. His wolf was aggravated at being so thoroughly ignored—a predator of Alexei’s power usually only had to walk into a room to get everyone’s attention. “Right now, you’re an unknown, a possible threat to my pack. Tell me who you are in your own words—or let Erasmus David Renault speak for you.”

She slammed the coffee mug down on the counter and stalked out. He heard the front door open not long afterward. A cold wind followed. Straightening from his leaning position, Alexei prepared three other pieces of toast, put them on the same plate as her unfinished piece, then poured a fresh mug of coffee and headed down the hall.

As he’d expected, she was standing just outside the door, gulping in long breaths of the chilly morning air while a fine misty rain beaded in her hair. “You make good coffee.” He took a drink, held out the mug.

Steam curled up against the cold.

“No?” he said when she remained a statue. “Back to the captive diet, huh?”

She growled at him, actually growled.

Alexei’s wolf stood up in quivering attention. “Where did that sound come from?” It certainly couldn’t have come from the petite body beside him. “Do it again.”

Glaring, she grabbed the coffee mug from him and took a defiantly large gulp. She kept the coffee while snatching up her unfinished toast from the plate in his hand. Still fascinated by the growl his taunting had incited, he ate another piece of toast and waited for her to finish hers before offering her a second piece.

She took it, ate in quiet, methodical bites while her breath frosted the air. “My last name is Aven-Rose.” Fierce words. “He will not steal that from me.”

“Memory Aven-Rose,” Alexei said, because some things weren’t games. “I’ll have the pack records updated.”

“He murdered my mother. I was eight years old and she’d just picked me up from my after-school lessons.” Memory’s voice was flat, distant. “She helped me take off my bulky winter jacket. I was telling her about a school project when she opened the hallway closet to hang it up . . .”

Shoving the coffee into his hand, she leaned over with both her hands on her thighs, her breath harsh. Alexei wanted to pick her up, cuddle her close, tell her she was safe. Nothing was going to get through him. But that type of touch was something she’d have to initiate—he’d pulled her into his lap in the middle of the night, but only after she’d told him contact helped her fight the psychic attack.

She wasn’t under attack today, hadn’t asked for skin privileges.

And he had no fucking idea what her captor had done to her, what she could bear. All he could do was provoke her anger until she forgot to be scared and became a growling lioness again.

It took her long minutes to rise back up to her full height. “He was in the closet.”

“Hell.” That was a child’s nightmare come to life. No fucking wonder Memory had nearly lost it while telling the story.

“My mother went to scream but he was too fast and he had his hand over her mouth before she could make a sound.” Leaning back against the closed substation door, Memory took a deep breath, released it with slow deliberation. “He does this thing with his mind—he stalks his victims on the PsyNet and learns their mental habits, so when he attacks them, he can trap their minds at the same time.”