Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(71)

Stunned by the beauty of Shawnie’s work, Adria didn’t say anything as Ivy held a number of poses to fully display the jacket. “Sweetheart, you’re a star.” She smiled at Ivy. “And you’re on the way to being on a catwalk.”

They both blushed, looking toward each other with huge smiles.

Adria snapped a photo, capturing the moment. “That one’s for you two.” Then she took a number of shots of Ivy displaying Shawnie’s creation for SnowDancer’s weekly newsletter.

“You really like it?” Shawnie asked afterward, her heart on her sleeve.

“I’d wear it if it was in my size,” Adria said honestly, conscious that nurturing the juvenile’s pride and self-confidence, while listed nowhere in her official mandate as Shawnie’s trainer, would flow into every other aspect of the girl’s life—including the defensive and aggressive moves Adria was teaching her.

As Shawnie bounced away to help Ivy change out of the jacket, Adria’s wolf laid its head on its paws, its belly warm with contentment—like the human part of her, it knew this work was as important to the health of the pack as any battle victory, any security measure. Shawnie’s bright spirit, Ivy’s innocent pleasure in her friend’s accomplishment, these were the things every dominant fought to protect.

KENJI met Riaz’s gaze after Emani signed off. “How do you want to handle this?”

“I’ll go talk to Bo,” Riaz said, referring to the security chief and effective leader of the Human Alliance, a man he’d taken care to get to know after the Alliance’s run-in with SnowDancer and DarkRiver.

“Hawke?”

“Not yet.” The alpha had enough on his plate with the threat to Sienna—and he’d always trusted his lieutenants to work independently, part of the reason why SnowDancer had such strong men and women in those positions. “Let me see what I can find out first.”

“I’ll put out some feelers, too,” Kenji said, his expression serious in a way that belied the reckless abandon of his chosen hair color.

“Call me on my cell if you hear anything.” Logging off, Riaz decided to grab some coffee from the nearby break room before calling Bowen. He was frowning at the implications of the Human Alliance being involved in the assassination of an entire Psy team when he walked into the break room—to come to a complete halt, the scent of crushed berries in ice wrapping around him, delicate as the most fragile snowflake.





Chapter 36





ADRIA LOOKED FROM the counter, her guarded smile familiar. “Hey.” She held up the coffeepot, pouring him a mug when he nodded. “Milk?”

“No, black.” It felt strange to be having this ordinary conversation with her, the undertone faintly awkward, when he’d been buried balls-deep in her only hours ago.

“Here you go.” Passing it over, she began to add sugar to her own mug.

His eyebrows rose after the fourth teaspoon, the awkwardness dissipating into an amused affection that made his wolf prick its ears. “Sure you don’t want some coffee with your sugar?” he asked when she began to stir.

“Everyone has their vices.” A suspiciously bland comment, followed by, “Maybe you’d like me to fetch you a bar of dark chocolate.”

He grinned, wondering how she’d figured out his predilection for the stuff. “I figured you were a strong-black-coffee type of girl.” It intrigued him that he’d been so off base, made him aware of all the things he didn’t know about this woman who’d shared her body with him. Especially when she poured in what looked like half a pot of cream, then took a gulp, shivering with pleasure.

His body hardened. The urge to touch her, to claim skin privileges outside the bedroom was almost overwhelming, but he grit his teeth and fought it. They’d set limits on their relationship, and he needed to respect that, not only for his sake, but for hers.

Adria leaned back against the counter. “You look tense.”

Her color-drenched eyes, they saw too much. It was one of the first things he’d thought at their initial meeting, and regardless of how uncomfortable it made him as a man, her perceptiveness was a skill he could utilize as a lieutenant. “You know much about what went down with the Human Alliance a year ago?”

The Alliance had tried to plant bombs in San Francisco, attempted to kidnap Ashaya Aleine. Bo and his people, rebels from the group at the time, had made the stupid-ass mistake of kidnapping a young male from DarkRiver territory in an effort both to protect him and to gain the packs’ attention. “About Bowen and his group?”

“Yes”—Adria took another sip of her coffee—“all senior soldiers were briefed. I know we’ve been working with the cats to build a functional relationship with them.”

“It’s been rocky,” Riaz acknowledged, “but we knew we had to find some way to make things work.” The Alliance’s business standing had taken a hit immediately after the events in San Francisco, but as Hawke had predicted, it had rebounded even stronger.

Changelings have packs, the alpha had said. The Alliance is the human equivalent—it not only represents humans as a group, it’s powerful enough that people pay attention.

Not a body to disregard, regardless of the fact that humans were so often labeled the weakest part of the triumvirate that was the world.