Shards of Hope (Psy-Changeling 14)

No one could’ve foreseen their current circumstances. “You’re not alone,” he repeated, though he knew words wouldn’t be enough. The damage done to her as a child had been some of the worst seen by the squad’s mental evaluation panel—according to the records, the debate on whether or not she was even worth the effort had been long and intense.

In the end, it was her intelligence and proven strength that had saved her: Zaira hadn’t broken under the childhood abuse. She’d fought back and she’d done so with a cold intelligence the squad appreciated. “I need you to stay strong,” he said, speaking to the part of her that was the fire. “Zaira.”

She gritted her teeth and gave him a nod, betraying nothing of her psychological state when Finn returned to the room with Remi. The alpha held his silence until Zaira drank some water and waved off an offer of food.

“So,” he said, “now that you’re both awake, who shot you?”

Chapter 13

ADEN GAVE HIM the facts—there was no reason to hide the truth. Either RainFire was already in on it, and knew, or the pack might be of assistance in unearthing further information. “The men who were holding us were a combined Psy-human team.”

“Human?” A skeptical look. “You sure?”

“Yes.” The surprising development lined up with one other factor in this situation. “The implant Zaira and I had in our heads,” he said, reaching into a pocket to retrieve the small, flat container in which he’d earlier put the surviving implant, “shows signs of being a patch-up job involving human and Psy technology.”

Aden had borrowed Finn’s microscope to have a closer look at it. He was no expert, but he’d previously seen both the Aleine implant and the Human Alliance one, and the one he held clearly showed evidence of both. “A roughly done fusion.”

“Goes with the sketchy nature of the surgery,” Finn said, his tone unforgiving. “They might as well have used a hacksaw, it was so badly done.”

“Yeah, but these ham-handed butchers managed to abduct you two,” Remi pointed out with a directness Aden was coming to expect from the RainFire alpha. “Everything I’ve heard about Arrows tells me you aren’t exactly easy prey, so the abductions were well planned.”

Aden looked at the rough-edged male with new respect. Aden had never disregarded changelings, never underestimated their intelligence as so many Psy did, but he’d come perilously close to downgrading Remi’s threat level because the other man appeared so ruggedly physical. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Either the implants weren’t ready when the opportunity arose to abduct us,” he said, “or they were never meant to be long-term.”

“I wouldn’t keep a threat alive, either, not after I had what I wanted.” The alpha’s gaze shifted to Zaira. “You don’t talk?”

“Not when I have nothing to say,” Zaira responded with glacial calm, though Aden knew she was at the edge of her endurance.

He had to get her away from the changelings. “Is there any reason for Zaira to be confined to the infirmary any longer?” he asked Finn.

“No, but I want to do a couple of final scans before I spring her. I also want to check your bullet wound now that you’ve been on that leg for several hours.”

Aden stepped aside so Finn could complete Zaira’s scans, but remained within her direct line of sight. Aloneness was Zaira’s secret horror, the one foe she couldn’t beat.

Being isolated and alone and hurt day after day changes a person, Aden. It turns a child into . . . into a thing that isn’t quite human and not quite animal. Like any trapped creature, that child will gnaw off its own limb to escape—but if that child is a Gradient 9.8 combat-grade telepath named Zaira Neve, it’ll first ask if it can gnaw off its attackers’ limbs instead.

She’d said that to him at fifteen, the self-portrait both icily honest and disturbing.

You aren’t an “it,” Zaira.

You’re right. I’m not an it. I’m a nightmare.

•   •   •

AS Finn worked on the female Arrow, Remi could feel Aden weighing him up. Fair enough. Remi was weighing up the Arrow—and his silent partner—in turn. Though Remi was predisposed to like him, he wasn’t about to give two lethal strangers free rein of the compound.

“There’s a small aerie just above the infirmary that you’re welcome to use until the weather clears,” he told them. “Or until your transport arrives.”

Finn had suggested the reason a teleporter hadn’t turned up already was because the two Psy had residual bruising from the implants that might be interfering with their psychic abilities. That made sense to Remi and it also made him a fraction more sympathetic to their guarded caution. If someone shoved an implant in his head that stopped him from shifting, he’d be a whole lot pissed and suspicious, too.

“Thank you,” Aden said in that calm, cool voice that nonetheless held the power of a fellow alpha. “Do we reach it via an outer door?”

“No, it’s connected through an internal trapdoor at the end of the corridor outside.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “The ladder’s shielded from the wind and rain so you won’t need outdoor gear.”

Finn had asked for the modification as that particular aerie was used mostly by patients who’d recovered enough to leave the infirmary but that Finn wanted close by for two or three more days. In this case, it’d keep the Arrows within easy watching distance—there was no way to leave the aerie except through the trapdoor that led down into the infirmary corridor.