Mine to Possess (Psy-Changeling 4)

"Big decision," Nate said, "letting another predator, even a weak one, in on our patch."

"They get aggressive, the pact's nullified." Lucas's face was icily practical. "They'll be dead within hours."

"Strategically," Vaughn said, "their range is one of our most vulnerable spots-our beasts don't like it down there. If the Psy learn enough about us to take advantage of that, they could do a hell of a lot of damage." He turned. "Clay?"

"I agree." Oddly enough, despite the aggressive lure of his beast, this was what he brought to the sentinels - a perspective shaped by his humanity. It was less because of his genetic inheritance than the fourteen years he'd spent pretending to be fully human. That human side could look beyond the leopard's territorial instincts. "Teijan's solid - that's why it took him so long to decide. He won't break the deal if we don't." There was a streak of honor in the rat that might've surprised those who judged him on the nature of his beast.

Dorian began to play his ever-present pocketknife in and over his fingers, the absent movements smooth as white lightning. "I've dealt with Teijan - trading info. His people aren't the best fighters, but they're excellent spies. Human members included."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Takes one to know one?"

Dorian's grin was quicksilver. "Something like that."

"At our initial meeting to discuss a formal pact, they struck me as honest though wary," Sascha said, speaking for the first time. "Teijan won't give his loyalty lightly, but I don't think he'd betray an alliance either. There's something very proud about him."

"That a professional opinion?" Dorian asked. "Did you read him, Sascha darling?"

Sascha scowled at the blond sentinel. "That would be unethical. My instincts say he's trustworthy."

Dorian shrugged. "Your instincts are those of an empath."

Clay agreed. Sascha might not have done a conscious reading, but she had to have picked up something that had led her to make that statement. "Maybe you need to have another meeting with Teijan and his people."

"I'm not reading them." Sascha's scowl grew deeper.

Lucas reached up to tug at the end of her plait. "Damn ethics."

"I'll go to the meeting," she said, slapping away his hand but with a smile edging her lips, "and I'll let you know what I think, but it'll be my opinion, nothing else."

"Jeez, Lucas," Dorian muttered, "I thought you said you were corrupting her."

Sascha threw a cushion at him. Laughing, Lucas caught Dorian's return volley. "Stop teasing my mate. She's in a temperamental woman mood."

Mercy's low growl filled the air.

Dorian snorted. "You're just mad because you drew the short straw."

"Why do I have to be the liaison with the wolves?" Mercy demanded. "Riley is such a damn stick in the mud, I want to - " She clawed her hands and made feral sounds.

"I'll lend you a knife," Dorian drawled. "That way, you won't get your girly nails dirty."

Mercy tackled him in a pounce that Dorian fielded with expert grace. He still failed to keep her from pinning him to the ground - because he was laughing too hard.

Clay looked around at his grinning packmates and knew Tally belonged in this circle. She was his now. No one and nothing - not her fears, not that damn disease - was going to keep her from him.

Talin had thought of Sascha as a tough sell, but Lucas's mate had nothing on Faith. While the small, curvy redhead had the same night-sky eyes as Sascha, the similarity ended there. Faith's smile was rare, an indefinable darkness to her that Talin recognized - because she held echoes of the same thing inside herself.

"So, you knew Clay in childhood?" Faith asked as they sat in the large rumpus room upstairs. "He's never mentioned you."

Talin felt a stab of hurt followed by irritation. Who was this woman to question her about Clay? "Unsurprising, really. We were very young the last time we saw each other." But he had walked in her soul every day of her life.

"I knew about you," Tamsyn said from where she sat in an armchair between Faith and Talin. She was knitting something using a green wool that reminded Talin of Clay's eyes. "'My Tally,' that's what he called you."

"You knew?" Faith frowned, the expression so subtle it was as if she hadn't yet learned to share her emotions without shields. "Of course, you've known him much longer."

Tamsyn continued to knit as she talked. "Yes. But he's become good friends with you very quickly. You must have some kind of magic."

The jealousy that hit Talin was a vicious creature, tearing and ripping and violent. "I guess he must've developed a thing for helpless women." The bitchy comment was out before she could stop it.

Tamsyn's knitting needles paused, then resumed. Faith raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm helpless?" Her smile was ice.

Talin wasn't backing off, not after the cracks Faith had taken at her. "You look like a touch would bruise you." The other woman's skin was a creamy gold with not a freckle in sight. "The word that comes to mind is fragile."

Tamsyn laughed. "Sorry, ignore me. You two go on."

Talin glanced between the DarkRiver women, felt a flush creep up her neck. "Clearly I'm missing something." The sense of exclusion hurt all the more because she'd thought Tamsyn liked her.

"I'm sorry, Talin." There was no laughter in Tamsyn's gentle voice. "I was only thinking of what Clay would say if he heard you two."

Talin kept her attention on Faith. "What are you, a telekinetic or something?" she asked, very aware of being outside the closed circle of Clay's new family.