Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(58)

Memory gave a laugh that felt rusty and wet.

Jaya ran her hand down Memory’s spine. “They get inside your heart, don’t they?”

Memory could only nod.

“As for me,” Jaya continued, “I tend to wake with Abbot’s shifts. I’ve become so used to cuddling next to his body that my eyes snap open the instant he leaves the bed.” She pointed to a shadow in between two cabins in the far distance. “The one with the killer sea-blue eyes and black hair is mine.”

Memory bit down on her lower lip. “He doesn’t seem like a cuddling sort of man,” she ventured warily. Alexei knew how to cuddle. Even when he was growling at her, if she went to him, he’d hold her. Jaya’s Abbot, in contrast, stood expressionless, his body at battle readiness and his eyes as cold as the Arctic.

Jaya laughed—and Memory saw Abbot’s gaze turn toward her. But there was no softening in his features, nothing to betray that Jaya meant more to him than any other empath under his watch. Except . . . Jaya blew him a kiss, as if he’d made a grand gesture of love. “I had to work on him a bit,” the other woman whispered conspiratorially. “But my Abbot once stayed up all night with me—playing cards very badly—just so I wouldn’t be scared. I knew then that he was a keeper.”

“I understand.” Someone who stood with you in the worst times and who didn’t take advantage of your weakness, that was a person you could trust. Like a wolf who kissed you even after he’d learned your most terrible secret.

Memory’s toes curled inside her astonishingly wonderful shoes. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked hesitantly, not sure she wasn’t assuming too much in Jaya’s friendliness.

“When I get back from my walk, if that works for you?” At Memory’s nod, she added, “I need to shake off a few of the cobwebs from staying up late to write my first column.” Jaya got up with a groan. “I don’t know what I was thinking, agreeing to be the Beacon’s new social interaction columnist.”

Memory made an immediate note to download a copy of Jaya’s column.

“We should have forty-five minutes together after I get back. Now I have to go distract Abbot for a minute.” A wink before she turned to walk in the direction of the blue-eyed Arrow.

He watched her come to him with no alteration in his expression . . . but cupped her cheek with one hand when she reached him, a piercing tenderness to his touch that was wholly unexpected in a man so outwardly martial and cold. Smiling, Memory looked away to give the couple their privacy, and finished her breakfast. She was considering whether to go inside and pour herself another coffee when her eyes widened.

Ashaya Aleine had just walked out of the trees from what Memory guessed was the DarkRiver side of the border. The M-Psy carried a small bag and at her side walked a tall man with amber-colored hair tied back in a queue and watchful eyes of near-gold, his movements subtly feline. He stopped next to one of the Arrows, an older man who appeared to be in charge of this unit, while Ashaya moved toward Memory.

The other woman’s face was drawn, her body stiff.

Rising to her feet, Memory girded herself for the confrontation to come; she had no idea what had passed between Ashaya and Amara after they left the cabin, but she could guess that it had been nothing good.

Rubbing her damp palms on her jeans, she blurted out, “I’m sorry,” before Ashaya could speak.

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me.” The blue-gray of Ashaya’s eyes shone with emotion. “You gave me a gift I never expected,” she whispered in a voice that trembled. “The effect may have been temporary, but for three hours yesterday, I saw a glimpse of who my twin might’ve been if she hadn’t been wired wrong in the womb.”

All the air rushed out of Memory. “She didn’t hurt you with her new understanding of your vulnerabilities?”

A poignant smile. “I long ago learned how to conduct myself around Amara to ensure that I didn’t put myself or those I loved at risk.” She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. “Bittersweet though they were, I’d never give up those three hours.” Ashaya reached back to tuck a curl behind her ear.

Memory was suddenly conscious of the state of her own hair; it hadn’t dried enough to become a huge mess, but she had nothing like Ashaya’s beautifully separated curls. “Would you like a coffee?” she said despite the heat in her face.

“I’d love some, and I brought a gift I hope you’ll like.” She lifted the bag she was holding.

Only after the two of them were seated around the kitchen table did Ashaya open the bag. As Memory watched, she took out a number of items.

Hair care products and tools designed for tight curls.

Heat crawling over her entire body, Memory looked down into the fragrant dark liquid in her mug. “My hair looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I didn’t do this to make you feel bad.” Ashaya’s tone was distraught. “I thought maybe no one had remembered to get you curl-specific products.”

Memory looked up, her eyes burning. “Alexei did,” she whispered, wanting to kiss him all over again for seeing her. Not a victim. Not a strange E. Her. Memory.

“Will you let me do your hair?” Ashaya’s throat moved as she swallowed. “I need to do something for you. Please.”