Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(84)

“I need to monitor you telepathically.” The only time he would ever invade the boy’s mind without asking was if William lost fatal control—and William had made that request himself.

“So you can see if I’m following the correct process,” William said, his tone a perfect imitation of Judd’s when he’d spoken those words.

It made his chest grow warm, the smile building from within. “Yes.”

“Here they go.” William dropped his shields, but he was never vulnerable to an attack—Judd had already taken over the task.

“One, two, three.” He slicked the blade of the knife across his palm.

Blood welled, thick and red.





Chapter 42





IT LOOKED IMPRESSIVE, but he’d made the cut shallow—this was about building William’s confidence in his abilities. It didn’t take long before he felt his skin begin to tingle, then tug. In front of him, William’s forehead was scrunched up, his eyes glued to the cut until Judd wasn’t sure the boy was even blinking. Sweat trickled down one temple, his small fists clenched so tight the light tan of his skin was bloodless.

Five minutes of fierce concentration later, William said, “I’m done,” and swayed on his feet.

“Sit. Drink.” He gave the boy the liter bottle of nutrient-rich sports water he’d placed by his foot. Only when William was steadier did he take a tissue from his pocket to wipe away the blood and reveal the faint pink line of a scar that looked two days old. “Very good.” He passed over the chocolate bar.

William tore off the wrapper to take a big bite. “It makes me really hungry,” he said after he’d swallowed. “And tired.”

“That’s because you’re using your psychic muscles. You need to remember to refuel and rest.” Young, his body developing, William’s psychic reserves were low. That didn’t negate his power. “You did an excellent job.”

When William beamed and leaned into him, Judd felt another one of those cracks form inside him. The ones the people he loved kept making, showing him he had the capability to feel even more than he believed.

William finished the chocolate bar and looked up. “Okay, I’m ready for the other stuff.”

The “other stuff” was where Judd took the boy through his entire method, teaching him where he could be more efficient, stronger, or more careful. “Close your eyes and focus.” Dropping his inner shields just enough to allow William to slide into a specific part of his mind, Judd showed the boy the psychic pathway he’d taken, asked him to critique his own performance.

William was smart and motivated—an excellent student.

Well done, he said after the boy figured out the solution to a niggling problem. That’s enough for today. Disengage, shields up.

“I’m going to Venice,” he said when William opened his eyes. “Do you know where that is?”

“No, but I know it has water, lots of it. And funny boats.” A pause. “Is that why I had to take a nap this afternoon and meet you so late? Because you’ll be gone tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Judd said, because he didn’t lie to children. “You’re important.”

“You are, too.” William’s hug was fierce.

Judd hugged him back before escorting the boy to the edge of his parents’ property, where his mother and father sat waiting at a wooden picnic table. William ran to them, bursting to share his success. Only when the small family was safe inside the house did Judd turn and walk back into the woods … and to the men who awaited him. “Aden,” he said, finding the Arrow seated on the same log he and William had used. “Vasic.”

“We didn’t think you’d spot him,” Aden said as Vasic shifted out of the viscous shadows between the trees.

Judd took a seat beside Aden. “I’ve learned a lot about tracking from changelings.” He’d sensed Vasic’s presence because of the silence the teleporter had created in the tiny denizens of the forest.

It was Aden who next spoke, his gaze focused in the direction of the house. “The boy’s one of us.”

“Yes.”

Vasic’s next words were quiet. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you’re in Venice.”

Judd had expected nothing less. If there was one thing that held true for every Arrow he’d ever known—except Ming LeBon, and he’d never truly been one of them—it was that they were loyal. Sometimes that loyalty was misdirected, given to those who did not deserve it, but it was never false, and never for sale. “Did you track me down for a reason?”

“We always have a reason, Judd.” Aden picked up an acorn, examined it with care. “Do you know about the others? In Venice?”

“No.” He’d never heard a hint about other rogue Arrows.

“Good. That means we succeeded.” The Arrow medic placed the acorn back on the ground.

“Size of the group?”

“A small percentage of those who officially died during missions over the past decade.”

“How?” All Arrow bodies were retrieved, death confirmed by a pathologist who wasn’t part of the squad.

“First the squad liberated certain corpses from mortuaries after they’d been processed for burial. Of the right size and height to fit an Arrow about to defect. Then the corpses were substituted in place of the Arrows in planned incidents where the bodies would be so damaged, the DNA so degraded, it wouldn’t be difficult to fool the scans. Explosions and fires.”