Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(66)

She shouldn’t be sitting dejected, her aloneness an acute ache in the air.

“These are Es, Alexei,” Jaya reminded him. “They’re horrified by their behavior after they recover from brushing up against that awful cold nothingness, and then they fall over themselves apologizing, but it hurts Memory all the same.”

Jaw a brutal line, Alexei said, “I’m taking her out of here for the night.” Away from people who hurt her even if they didn’t mean to, and into the world of his wolf.

Jaya’s eyebrows shot up. “Um, you realize she curses your name on a daily basis?”

Alexei’s wolf bared its teeth inside him. “Good.” Anger fueled Memory’s strength.



* * *



? ? ?

MEMORY scuffed at the grass with one sneakered foot. She’d scared Cordelia today, and Cordelia was an intensely kind soul destined to be a medical E. Four hours ago, the other woman had made inadvertent physical contact with Memory after a session with Amara. Memory’s friend had whimpered, then thrown up.

Poor Cordelia had come by again not long ago, tears rolling down her sweet round face and her creamy skin blotchy. “I’m so sorry, Memory. I don’t know why I reacted that way. I’m so sorry.”

Memory had hugged Cordelia to show her there were no hard feelings, but as late afternoon darkened into early evening, she faced an unpalatable truth that had nothing to do with Renault’s subtle attacks on her confidence: her kind of darkness didn’t fit with the sunshine and warmth of Designation E.

She was the ugly stepchild.

No, that wasn’t fair to her fellow Es, her friends. Not one of them had been anything but mortified by their behavior. It didn’t matter how Memory tried to explain that it had to do with her and the echo of her work with Amara, they still looked like kicked puppies, all bruised eyes and shame.

How could she live in this community when she gave her friends nightmares?

A kiss of primal wildness against her senses, an edgy wolfish scent.

Memory gripped one of the posts that held up the porch roof and refused to look. Not even when a pair of scuffed boots stopped in front of her. “Nice skirt.”

Memory was wearing an ankle-length skirt in silvery white that was all air and clouds. She’d found it at a cut-rate price on a site that sold “seconds and remainders”—the idea of rescuing slightly blemished clothes from being discarded made her even happier than buying shiny, perfect things, and it was now her favorite site.

The “blemish” on this piece was a small drop of pink paint on the hem. To Memory, that just made the skirt even more wonderful and unique.

Her fellow Es had been agog the first time she’d worn it. At least that was one thing she’d changed for the better—the sedate Psy dress code was well on its way out of the compound. Cordelia had begun ordering colorful dresses with flared skirts and Joseph had found Hawaiian shirts, while Reema had discovered the joys of makeup.

Only the Arrows remained black-clad and unmoved by the change, but Memory was working on that. After discovering that it was Yuri’s birthday a few days back, she’d bought him a long-sleeved black T-shirt, such as those she’d noticed many of the squad wore under their high-collared and bulletproof uniform jackets—except her chosen tee had a thin stripe of silver down the outside of each sleeve.

Yuri had worn it today; it was hidden under his jacket, but he’d made a point to tell her that he’d caused a commotion among his squadmates with his “sudden stylistic prowess.” He’d also asked her advice on how to respond to an understated but clear overture from a senior female Arrow.

Memory’s heart had nearly burst in joy at the indication of Yuri’s growing world, but her friend wasn’t the male who stood in front of her, taking up all the air in the yard and blocking the last of the light.

“Hello, lioness.”

“Go away,” she muttered, wanting to brood alone—and definitely not anywhere near this wolf who’d ignored her for three weeks.

“Can you even walk in that skirt?” he asked dubiously.

She pulled up the skirt to show him her glittery sneakers. The stupid things were her favorites. Dropping her skirt when she realized she’d let him taunt her into betraying herself, she glared at the ground. “I said, go away.”

He tugged at a curl that had escaped her messy ponytail. When she slapped his hand away, he just found another curl to tug. Hands fisting, she jumped to her feet and put a foot of distance between them. “What do you want, you big, wolfy chicken?”

The beautiful golden god of a man—who was half demon—smiled at her instead of snarling in insult. “Want to get out of here?”

It was the only thing he could’ve said that would cut through her morose mood. “Yes, let’s go.” At least she could be furious with Alexei without making anyone feel bad—it certainly had no effect on him.

Her skirt flowed around her as she strode toward the trees, the fabric as light as air. Suspiciously silent at her side, Alexei easily kept pace. When they passed Jaya coming the other way, the other E stopped to enclose Memory in the warm acceptance of her arms, not minding that Memory had stiffened in instinctive self-protectiveness.

“Give him hell,” her friend whispered in her ear. “Arrows and wolves, they’re the same. Show him your teeth.”