Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(88)

Making a face at him, Memory said, “I see the good mood was a fleeting thing.”

He tugged on another curl, but shifted his gaze to the man with him. “This is Judd.”

“I won’t invade your thoughts,” the Tk said in a cool voice. “My only aim is to check for any holes created deep in your mind by your captor.”

Alexei clasped her nape in a caressing grip. “Judd’s one of my best friends and I’d trust him with my life—he won’t hurt you.”

The rough honesty of his words helped her defeat the fear crushing her heart. “What do you need me to do?” she asked Judd.

“Lower your shields.” His eyes were a deep brown with flecks of gold, far warmer than his voice. “I won’t enter unless you do.”

It took teeth-gritted focus on her part to force down her shields, even more focus not to shove them back up the instant a powerful mind entered hers. But he kept his word, going nowhere near her thoughts or secrets, his focus on the structure of her mind.

“I’m done,” he said in a matter of minutes, and she slammed up her shields.

“Is it bad?” Sascha frowned.

A shake of Judd’s head. “You two got most of them.” He switched his attention to Memory. “Your captor wasn’t subtle or skilled—the hidden doors are basic hacks I learned as a seven-year-old Arrow trainee.”

Memory wondered if she was imagining the insulting edge to his tone—he was so icy and distant . . . but he was also Alexei’s friend. Alexei, who had no ice in him.

“Don’t hold back,” she said with a wry smile.

No change in his expression, but his emotions held definite amusement. “Only reason Sascha couldn’t see these final doors was because she’s an E. Your designation isn’t endowed with the gene for deviousness.”

Memory and Sascha both glared at Alexei’s cool-eyed friend.

Clearly not the least bit terrified by their wrath, Judd carried on. “I’ve tagged the locations for you. Demolition instructions sent to Sascha.”

“Be any smugger and you’ll turn into a cat.”

Eyes gleaming at Alexei’s bad-tempered comment, Judd looked at Memory again. “You realize you have a minor telekinetic ability?”

“Yes, it’s worthless.” Much to her disgust. “It was tagged as 1 on the Gradient when I was tested as a child.” At the time, with Designation E unknown to the general populace, she’d been officially classed a 3.4 telepath. Multiple abilities weren’t uncommon, but generally only on the lower end of the scale—or that’s what she’d been taught.

According to Sascha, however, Judd was beyond a 9 in both Tk and Tp.

The ex-Arrow pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. “Your Tk’s matured closer to 1.5—and nothing is useless if you know how to utilize it.” He went to the counter to pick up a spoon she’d left to dry.

Placing it on the table in front of her, he said, “Nudge it.”

Memory did it only so she could prove to him that this was a pointless exercise. The spoon moved a fraction of an inch.

“Do it again,” Judd said.

She did.

When he asked her to do it a third time, however, she sat back and folded her arms. “Why?” It wasn’t even a parlor trick when Tks like Judd could throw missiles around in the sky.

“Imagine if you had the delicate skill to manipulate the tumblers of an old-fashioned lock, or to push in the code on a computronic one. Not many prisons could keep you inside.” A raised eyebrow. “Never leave an advantage on the table.”

Memory sucked in a breath. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll practice.”

A small nod before Judd glanced at Alexei. “Ready to do our patrol, or do you want to rub your scent on your E?” Words so cool it took Memory a second to realize he was poking the wolf, his eyes alive with humor.

“One of these days . . .” Alexei growled before leaning down to kiss Memory. “Do not admire the asshole. It just gives him a big head.”

As the two men left, Memory tried not to think about the wounds inside her golden wolf, scars that meant their relationship could never be like Sascha and Lucas’s, or Jaya and Abbot’s.

So we’ll make it our own, she vowed. I’m not about to give up on you, on us, Alexei Vasiliev Harte. She was too far gone, his name written on her heart.





Chapter 41


It is the recommendation of this PsyMed advisory board that the survivors of Operation Scarab be placed in psychic restraints and kept away from the general populace. It has proved impossible to go backward—the survivors cannot be returned to their stable pre-Scarab state.

—Report prepared for the Psy Council (circa 2003)


HE’D HAD THE emergency overnight brain scans done at an anonymous facility, under a false name. Had even gone to the extent of wearing an expensive disguise, a disguise he only had because his now-deceased grandfather had insisted he always have one ready just in case. He’d felt foolish doing it, but as the head of a major Psy family, there was a high chance someone would’ve recognized him otherwise.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dr. Mehra. The Gradient 9.8 M-Psy was deeply loyal to the family. The one who had awakened had learned the importance of loyalty by watching not his own parent, but Kaleb Krychek. One of the most ruthless and deadly men in the Net had never—not once—been sold out by his own people.