Visions of Heat

CHAPTER 16

After spending all day on the sculpture of Faith, Vaughn met up with the other sentinels and their alpha pair late that night to work on shielding. The location was a glade close to Lucas's lair, not far from a small river that bisected the area and turned the air damp. Tamsyn, their healer, was also present.

Sascha ran them through the drills over and over, merciless in her drive to make them invulnerable to Psy attack, only calling a halt when they started to snarl at each other. "Given your psychic blindness, you're doing far better than I expected. You're actually learning to shield on a level beyond the normal changeling defenses."

"Which are pretty damn strong." Nate threw an arm around Tamsyn's shoulders. His mate smiled and laced her fingers through his hand.

"Yes." Sascha nodded. "Soon you'll be close to invincible."

"We already are, Sascha darling," Dorian said from where he was sitting with his back against a tree.

Sascha walked over to the blond sentinel and tugged him to his feet for a quick hug. Dorian was no longer the open wound he'd been straight after his sister Kylie's murder at the hands of serial killer—and former Councilor—Santano Enrique, but he remained badly damaged. The violent loss had done nothing to affect his abilities as a sentinel, but they were Pack. And Pack didn't look the other way when one of their own was hurting.

Dorian's needs made him no less respected in a pack where touch-hunger was accepted and fed. Sascha's empathy in particular seemed to reach the latent male far deeper than anyone else. Now, she leaned her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, and closed her eyes. "Let me check the Web to see if any of these changes are manifesting there."

She opened her eyes a second later and looked straight across to where Vaughn crouched. But she didn't say anything of what he knew she wanted to say. "Everything looks good."

"Then school's out?" Dorian asked. "Anybody got detention?"

"Go before I change my mind." Sascha kissed him on the cheek, laughing at his attempt to steal a more intimate kiss. "Vaughn, could you stay? I want to talk to you about something."

Mercy made a sound of doom. "In trouble with Teach, cat. Didn't do your mental exercises, did you?"

"He's been distracted," Clay murmured, a shadow almost invisible in the darkness.

"It speaks!" Mercy threw up her hands into the air. "How many words does that make for today. Ten?" She was still kidding the silent sentinel as she walked with him and Dorian out of the training area.

Tamsyn hugged Sascha good-bye. "I think my sons are in love with you. You should hear what they're like when they get home—Sascha said this and Sascha said that." The healer shook her head. "Lucas had better watch out."

Wrapping an arm around Tamsyn's waist, Lucas dropped a kiss on her hair. "Tell your damn brats to leave her alone."

"Lucas!" Sascha sounded shocked.

Tamsyn laughed. "Don't take him seriously. He took my adorable brats out for a run yesterday with Kit and some of the others."

"Sorry, I'm not completely used to the way you interact."

Coming around to hug his mate from behind, Lucas began nibbling on her neck.

"Don't worry, honey." The healer smiled at Sascha's attempts to make Lucas behave. "You've only been cat for a few months. Give it time."

Nate took Tamsyn's hand. "We'd better go pick up Roman and Julian before Lysa decides she's no longer our friend."

Lucas waited until Tammy and Nate were out of earshot before saying, "Why don't we head home to talk? It won't take long if we run."

"What about me?" Sascha asked, looking from one to the other. Honestly, they kept forgetting she couldn't go furry.

Lucas gave her his back. "Hop on, darling." His smile was this side of sinful, reminding her of the very first time he'd offered her a ride.

Later. It was a mind-to-mind warning that turned into a promise.

Seconds later she was on his back and they were running. She trusted him absolutely, even at this breakneck pace. The changelings could move in either form. Holding on to the muscular body of her panther, she considered what she'd learned tonight. Only one thing was certain—Vaughn's life was about to become very, very complicated.

A cold rush of wind across her face. The low rumble of Lucas's growl as he warned away something in their path. The rich scents of the forest. It all dragged her firmly into the physical. Glorying in her freedom to indulge, she threw herself into the experience as only a former inmate of Silence could.

But the exhilarating ride was over too soon and they were at the lair. Leaving her alone with Vaughn, Lucas went to grab some drinks. Sascha glanced at the male lounging against the window ledge across from her. "Vaughn."

"I know." The jaguar folded his arms across his chest, his tattoo hidden by the gray sweatshirt he was wearing over his jeans.

Lucas walked back into the room. "Catch." He threw a beer to Vaughn and handed her a bottle of cranberry juice— alcohol had an odd effect on Psy minds.

She waited until both men had taken long drafts from the dark green bottles. "I saw something in the Web."

Lucas wrapped one arm around her neck and began to play with the end of her braid. "What?"

"Maybe Vaughn should be the one to explain." She felt uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to breach your privacy. I'm really sorry."

The jaguar threw the half-empty bottle from hand to hand. "I knew you'd see the bond."

"With Faith?" Lucas stopped tugging at her braid. "Why didn't you tell us you'd mated?"

"Because Faith doesn't know." Vaughn thrust a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "She's not ready."

"You can't ignore a mate," Lucas pointed out. "The bond has a way of showing itself at unexpected moments."

"She's feeling trapped as it is—how do you think this is going to look to her?" Vaughn rocked back on his heels. "Could other Psy detect the bond?"

Sascha took a moment to think about it. "They shouldn't. The mating bond is changeling in nature, completely separate from the PsyNet. But"—she paused—"Faith is linked to both. I don't know how that's going to affect things. You need to tell her."

"It might make her run. She's had enough as it is."

Sascha knew he was right. Vaughn was the sentinel Sascha had always been the most wary of—there was something dangerously primal about him. His animal roamed very close to the skin. She couldn't imagine how Faith was going to deal with such an aggressive male. The F-Psy was new at emotion, at feeling anything. To ask her to embrace not only a male like Vaughn, but also the extreme devotion implied by the mating bond, might be to ask for far too much.

But as Lucas had already stressed, the bond couldn't be ignored. "She might surprise you," Sascha said. "She's seeing some horrific things without any training in how to deal with them, but she hasn't crashed. I think Faith is tougher than even she knows."

Vaughn's body was a tight wall of muscle as he faced them. "How do we get her out of the Net? Will the Web be able to support both of you at the same time?"

Sascha bit her lower lip. "I think there's enough biofeedback." Feedback no Psy could live without, the reason why dropping out of the PsyNet usually equaled suicide. "Two Psy minds should, in theory, augment the multiplication effect."

"Should?" Lucas shifted around to scowl at her.

Vaughn watched Sascha scowl back. "It's pure guesswork. DarkRiver's Web isn't supposed to exist in the first place. I don't know how it'll work, but we have to try. There's no other choice."

Lucas turned to him. "Shit, Vaughn. You had to go and mate with another damn Psy." Dragging his mate closer, he bit her lightly on the neck. "Okay, so we have to utilize the Web. We'll figure out the rest later."

"It could kill all four of us if we get it wrong and there's not enough feedback," Vaughn said, fists clenched.

"Then I'll just have to blood-oath some new sentinels if that's what it takes to strengthen the Web." Lucas's promise held the determination of a friendship forged in the darkest of fires. "But first, we need to get Faith out. Any ideas?"

"Use the disc?" Sascha was referring to the incriminating recording they'd created when they'd taken down the serial killer who'd butchered Kylie and mind-raped the SnowDancer, Brenna.

Vaughn wanted to grab at the idea, but he was a sentinel, sworn to protect DarkRiver. "The reasons why we didn't originally release the recording still apply. We can't take the risk of the Council feeling backed into a corner." An animal in that position had nothing to lose by trying to go for the kill.

"He's right," Lucas said. "They can't know how many more times we might blackmail them."

"Talk to me, Sascha." Vaughn folded his arms and tried to contain the urge to simply take what he wanted and damn the consequences. "Is there anything else you can think of?"

"Faith's isolated lifestyle is one thing in our favor." Sascha leaned against Lucas's side. "People know her name, but very few have actually seen her. Her dropping out won't cause as big a ripple as my defection did. But on the other hand, losing her will rob the Council of millions."

"How?"

"Taxes in the most basic sense," Sascha answered. "F-Psy create enormous amounts of money and it flows up. I know from my mother that in certain cases, the Council uses foreseers to increase its wealth in a much more direct fashion. They get the service free or at a generous discount."

"Let me guess," Vaughn interrupted, enraged at the idea of his mate doing anything to assist that group of coldblooded monsters. "Nobody wants to piss off the big, bad Council by asking for payment."

Sascha nodded. "People who get paid have a habit of disappearing and leaving their money to the Council."

"So they'll fight hard to keep her. They can't pretend she's defective like they did with Sascha." Lucas's facial markings stood out in sharp relief as anger pulled his skin taut. "And she's a cardinal, too. Those eyes mean she can't be hidden effectively."

"No one's going to be hiding Faith." Vaughn knew his voice had dropped several octaves, but he was beyond caring.

"What about Faith?" Sascha asked softly.

"What about her?" Vaughn put the now empty bottle on the window ledge.

"Have you asked her whether she wants to leave the Net?"

"She's my mate." Of course she'd leave the Net. "I'll try to give her some time to get used to the idea, but in the end, she has no choice."

"I think she does."

Vaughn's beast prowled to the surface of his self. "How?" Mating was a compulsion with changelings. Even the most independent females, the ones who fought the hardest, found it difficult to spend long periods apart from the males who were meant to be their mates.

"She's not changeling, so it doesn't affect her the same way it does you, not unless she opens herself up to it like I did with Lucas. It might be uncomfortable for her, but she can probably block you."

"Are you sure?" Vaughn's claws were so close to his human skin that he felt the hard prick of the tips waiting to break through.

"No. She's different from me. Being an empath meant I couldn't ignore what I felt for Lucas. I don't know if Faith is as bound to you."

"So I could be mated to someone who could choose not to be my mate?" A nightmare idea. Mating was a one-shot deal. The link usually involved a conscious decision at some point by the female, which made Vaughn and Faith's bond very unusual. But no matter how it had come into being, once made, even death couldn't break it. No one mated twice. They might find a lover, but the hole in them would never be fixed. Never. "I need to run."

But though he ran himself to exhaustion, his beast could find no comfort in an act that had always before meant freedom. Because he was chained, tied on the deepest level to a woman who just might destroy him.

Faith missed her jaguar, missed him badly enough to stumble in her act of normality.

She was strolling the grounds in the cool light of morning and considering how to arrange another night escape when she started to think of Vaughn, of his presence, and yes, his touch. So deep was she in her thoughts that she nearly walked into a guard. That wasn't the problem. It was the fact that her nerves were poised to jump in alarm.

Catching the reaction the barest instant before it could become action, she inclined her head. "My apologies. I wasn't concentrating on where I was going."

"The fault was mine." The guard gave a short nod and continued on his rounds.

She forced herself to walk in the opposite direction, her heart a drumbeat in her veins. Careful, she told herself. One slip was all it would take. Deciding to try to distract herself with something less incendiary, she took a seat on a small garden bench and opened up the mental file Anthony had given her.

Kaleb Krychek had led an interesting life. An unexpected Tk cardinal born of two low-Gradient Tp-Psy, he'd been raised almost like her, having spent his entire childhood in a training facility. Her father had managed to dig out that one of young Kaleb's instructors had been none other than Santano Enrique. She didn't know why Enrique had disappeared, but that piece of history could prove a weapon should she ever need it.

Kaleb had been conscripted into the Council ranks almost immediately after his successful graduation from the Protocol. His climb up the ladder had been phenomenal, even more so because he was a cardinal—most cardinals, while they worked for the Council, were too cerebral to bother with politics and power.

Faith turned another page in the file and found herself looking at a list of missing persons. At least ten high-ranking members of the Council substructure had disappeared under mysterious circumstances and, in every instance, it was Kaleb who had benefited. However, nothing had ever been traced to him—a fact that would only make him more appealing to the lethal beings who were the current Council.

Faith was a babe in the woods in comparison. Which begged the question of why she was even a candidate. She was about to dig deeper into Kaleb's file when she felt it. The push of darkness. "No." It seemed obscene that after three days of psychic peace, the evil should hunt her down in bright daylight.

Her first instinct was to fight, to stop a recurrence of the last malicious invasion. But she was through with running. If she could tangle with a jaguar and come out alive, then she could deal with this ugliest facet of her own abilities. Releasing a withheld breath, she let him take her under and exhibit his triumphs. She saw through his eyes, forced herself to watch that which had not yet come to pass. It was changeable, mutable. One day soon, he'd stalk the target of his fantasies, stalk and plan. Faith studied every aspect of his intended victim and tried to figure out who she was, where she was, and, most important, when she was.

Her suit was black, her shirt white, her skin a hue rare among the Psy after generations of intermingling—a pure white that held faint undertones of palest blue. But the expressionless cold of her face made it indisputable that she was, in fact, a member of Faith's race. The unknown Psy's hair was a white-blonde that went with her skin and her eyes were a vivid blue. She looked nothing like Marine.

But, her mind insisted on whispering, the killer hadn't felt the same with Marine. The visions involving her sister had focused on the death itself and the killer's emotions during it, while this new victim was going to be stalked, watched, savored. Yes, it had been a rush for him to take Marine's life, but he'd experienced none of this extreme anticipation. Perhaps if he had, she might've understood in time ... might've saved Marine from the agony of having her breath choked out of her.

She shook off the leaden chains of guilt, chains that might cost another life, and followed her earlier line of thought. Newly awakened instinct said that the key to everything lay in answering the question of why Marine and this new target inspired such disparate reactions in the perpetrator.

Even as she wrestled with that question, the darkness faded away from her consciousness. The killer had been placated by her acquiescence, but that was an unreliable effect. He could as easily decide to rape her mind the next time. However, she couldn't think about that possibility right now. Because someone was watching her. And that someone raised every hair on her body.

Opening her eyes, she found herself looking up at Nikita Duncan, Councilor and one of the most dangerous women in the Net. The poison of her mind was reputedly more lethal than the deadliest biological virus. And she'd found Faith in the grip of a dark vision.

Faith stood and brushed down the back of her dress. "Councilor Duncan."

"I apologize if I disturbed you." Nikita's almond-shaped eyes were disquietingly focused. "I thought your visions took place in monitored surroundings."

Faith shook her head and told a half-truth. "Sometimes I inadvertently activate a trigger while considering how to best approach a project, or my mind simply finds these surroundings more conducive to a particular vision."

"I see. Well, I suppose you're not far from the guards, so there's no cause for alarm."

And no real privacy. "No." She met Nikita's eyes. "What can I do for you today, Councilor?"

The last thing Vaughn expected to see when he leaped over the fences and tracked Faith's scent to a hidden part of the property was his mate deep in conversation with Nikita Duncan. Mindful that Sascha's mother was a powerful telepath, he allowed the beast to rise to the surface of his mind—if she did notice him, she might not recognize him as a changeling. He also kept considerable distance between them. But he could still hear every word they spoke. And what he heard made him want to shred the tree branch under his claws.

"You're not stupid, Faith. You have to know why I'm here."

"Of course. However, I'm at a loss to know the reason behind the nomination." Faith's voice was as cold and efficient as a scalpel, utterly different from how she sounded when speaking to Vaughn. It shook him to realize she was that good an actress, made him question which persona was real and which a fraud.

"There are things you won't know until you've been accepted."

"I understand the need for the Council to keep things confidential, but to be perfectly honest, I see no advantage I have over other possible aspirants."

Nikita's ruler-straight black hair shifted around a face that looked nothing like her daughter's. "Who would you put on that list of aspirants? I'm curious to see how much of a finger you have on the pulse of the Net."

"If you don't mind, Councilor, I'll keep my thoughts to myself." Faith glanced in Vaughn's direction and he waited for her to reach out to him with her mind, but she didn't. Disappointed despite his anger, he continued to watch. And listen. "There are certain names it's better not to speak of in advance."

"True." Nikita was silent for a few seconds. "Your monitoring is extensive."

Faith said nothing and he realized it was because Nikita had made a statement, not asked a question. It was the cold logic of the Psy in operation. And Faith hadn't missed a beat.

"How do you know anything if you're wrapped in cotton wool?" Nikita asked.

"The PsyNet."

"I was given the impression that F-Psy rarely frequent the Net."

"Some of us do." There was knowledge in her tone and the predator in Vaughn appreciated that. She couldn't afford to appear weak in front of Nikita, a woman so without heart that she had cut off her daughter as easily as another woman might throw out the garbage.

"Good. Before I go, you should know that certain Councilors are not in favor of your nomination." Nikita glanced at her timepiece. "Expect a summons within the next week."

Vaughn kept to his hidden position until Nikita's scent was inside the car waiting at the gate. Then he tracked his treacherous human prey to another isolated section of the compound. Faith's eyes widened when he landed in front of her in jaguar form but she didn't back away. "Vaughn. I thought I saw you."

He knew she was lying. She hadn't seen him. She'd felt hm. That she didn't want to admit that truth only added fuel to the fire of his anger. Butting at her with his head until she got the message and sat down on the ground, he went behind the gnarled trunk of a nearby tree to shift.

Part of him wanted to shock her with his nakedness, but there was too much anger riding him right now—he didn't want to taint her awakening sexuality with the bloodred of fury. It was as well that he'd utilized the jaguar's instincts soon after meeting Faith and cached several articles of clothing nearby. Having already retrieved a pair of pants, he slid them on before making his way back to her.

She was waiting with her arms wrapped around her knees, watching for him in the exact direction from which he came, though he hadn't made a sound. "Vaughn, the guards—"

"—make enough noise to wake a garrison, not to mention that they stink to Psy heaven." He crouched down in front of her, but didn't touch. He didn't trust himself enough.

"What?"

"Never mind. What the hell was Sascha's mother doing here?"

Those night-sky eyes, which had been edging toward wariness, hardened. "You have no right to talk to me like that. If you're planning on intimidating me into whatever it is you came for, you can go crawl in some dark hole and stay there!"