Storm echo, p.21
Storm Echo, page 21
“So did mine.”
Cracks of silver across his face, across the world, across the dream, until the entire thing was a fractured pane of mirrored glass, and she was falling, falling …
Soleil jerked awake on a gasp, her heart thunder and her mouth dry. Looking around with wild eyes, she half expected that very lifelike dream boy to be standing next to her. But he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. He was a man now. A very dangerous man who her cat had claimed. “Mine,” she murmured. “Mine.”
Pushing her braid over her shoulder, she reached for the glass of water she’d put on the bedside table. It was only after she’d gulped it down that her eyes registered the time on the vintage bedside clock.
It was six in the morning. She’d fallen asleep at midnight.
Six hours of uninterrupted sleep. Well, but for the dream—but that had been more unsettling than terrifying. And there was something …
Narrowing her eyes, she rolled the dream backward, and there it was, the most important fragment of memory from what she thought of as her lost month. Heart thudding, she pushed off the blanket and got out of bed.
She didn’t know what she was expecting when she looked in the mirror in the attached bathroom, but her hair was still black and she was still an adult of twenty-seven years of age, and she still had a face that was too thin. She used to have rounded cheeks and generous curves. These days, she was just bones held together by skin, and it wasn’t a good look on her. Her Psy could pull off razor cheekbones, but Soleil’s body was made for softness.
Her Psy.
Yes.
Determined to figure things out between them today, she got naked and walked into the shower. Afterward, she released her hair from the braid, brushed it out, then dressed in the same pants as last night. She paired them with a fine wool sweater in bright fuchsia.
“One of the juveniles left it behind the last time she visited and I washed it for her and set it aside,” Tamsyn had told her. “I know she won’t mind if you borrow it.”
It was the brightest color Soleil had worn in the time since the massacre. Making a note to give some kind of gift to the juvenile in thanks when she had the means to do so, she opened her bedroom door; instinct and need had her padding across to the cubs’ room. All four lay on the futon in a happy pile, the twins on either side of Razi’s and Natal’s curled-up bodies. They were still in the forms in which they’d gone to bed, and appeared in a deep sleep, but Natal stirred a mere second after she touched his fur, his sleepy eyes blinking open.
“Hello, Nattie.” Stroking his head, she kissed his nose, keeping her voice to a low whisper. “I’m going out but I’ll be back later.” She hadn’t wanted to wake either cub but knew she couldn’t simply vanish, not after all that had gone before. “You’ll tell Razi?”
A firm nod before he butted her hand in a silent demand. Laughing softly, she scratched and petted him until he fell back into sleep. He was young, but she thought he’d remember—she also intended to give the cubs a call once they were up, reassure them that nothing was wrong and she was fine.
Heart tight with love, she left the sleeping cubs and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she saw that the coffeemaker had already turned itself on via the timer function.
Inhaling the scent, she set out three mugs, figuring it had to be either Tamsyn or Nathan—or both—who’d be rising soon. That done, she picked up the pretty pink tote-style handbag Tamsyn had given her when she’d asked if she could borrow a bag, and stocked it with the small travel medical kit that Tamsyn had put together for her at her request.
Then she added energy bars, a packet of mixed nuts, a few water-soluble sachets that would get extra calories into her, and a bottle of water—all from the pantry cupboard Tamsyn kept stocked for packmates.
“Grab whatever you need,” she’d told Soleil. “It gets restocked as it’s used up. And feel free to help yourself to any baking I do. Plus, the fruit bowl is a free-for-all. To be honest, my whole kitchen is”—a grin—“except for my special cookies.” A bump of her shoulder against Soleil’s. “Don’t tell anyone but I’ll share with you.”
Smiling at the memory, she added an apple to her impromptu lunch.
Not long afterward, she felt a stirring of power in the air, her cat on alert even before Nathan walked into the room.
“You’re up early,” he said with the slightest brush of his knuckles against her cheek, the touch of a senior member of the pack a thing of welcome to her cat. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Had an odd dream and woke up,” she said past the knot in her chest, taking in his freshly washed hair, jeans, and long-sleeved blue shirt that he’d folded up to the elbows to reveal muscled forearms. “Are you on duty?”
A small nod. “Tammy insists on getting up with me, so she’ll be down soon. Save some room for her pancakes.” The way he spoke of his mate, the quiet love entwined in every word, it made her heart ache with memories poignant and old: her parents had spoken of each other that way, too.
“How else could I snag you for skin privileges without our lovely but incorrigibly curious children poking their noses in?” Tamsyn said as she walked in, her eyes sparkling.
Soleil was sure Nathan blushed before he turned to nip Tamsyn lightly on the ear. The other woman laughed and patted his chest, before kissing his jaw. And Soleil felt the bond between them, strong and enduring and encompassing anyone that came near in its warm radius.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Tamsyn walked over to give Soleil a gentle hug. “Blueberry pancakes?”
Overwhelmed by the protectiveness she felt from them both, Soleil just nodded.
Then she sat in the kitchen and watched the dance of two people who’d been in each other’s lives so long that they spoke without speaking. While Tamsyn cooked, Nathan used a datapad to clear up work that must fall on him as a senior sentinel. Every so often, however, they’d look up and exchange the odd word, or just a smile.
At one point, Tamsyn waved the spatula in her hand. “Since you saw Rome and Jules mastermind the great escape last night, I’m sure you don’t need the warning, but just in case—they will attempt to use their wiles to make you an accomplice to their crimes. Be on guard.”
Thinking of the two adorable boys who’d taken Razi and Natal under their wing, Soleil twisted her lips to one side in a thoughtful pose. “I’m only a junior healer,” she said at last, her cat glorying in being part of a bigger whole once again. “I’m allowed to be a criminal.”
Nathan groaned. “Great. All they need. Another adult enabler.” But he had laughter in his eyes as he said it. “All these gray hairs?” He pointed at his full head of black hair threaded with strands of silver. “Each and every one due to our two demons. And now they have two more accomplices in training.”
Soleil heard in his tone the affection and love of a father who enjoyed his children and their friends. “Natal and Razi, they seem happy.”
Recognizing it for a question, Tamsyn told her about the ocelot cubs, about how sad and withdrawn they’d been at the start, how much healing and therapy it had taken for them to step out of their shells. She also spoke about sweet and kind Salvador, with Nathan picking up the thread to update her on Duke and Lula.
“Two were green as grass,” he said, the steel in him suddenly obvious. “Should’ve never had the responsibilities they did in SkyElm. They’re now junior soldiers in training and having a far better time of it—they get to be young, to party with their friends in their off time, figure out who they are in the knowledge that there are stronger and more mature people holding the reins of the pack.”
No matter how many questions Soleil asked, the couple didn’t tire of answering them. “Have you met our boys?” Tamsyn said with a laugh when Soleil mentioned her insatiable need to fill in the gaps. “At one point, I swear Jules was asking a question every ten seconds.”
The breakfast passed quickly.
When Nathan rose to grab his jacket, she said, “Are you going into the city? Can I catch a ride?” Her need to see Ivan hadn’t abated at all in the time she’d spent in this kitchen, her soul torn in two. She hated that he was so far from her, and from the rest of her pack.
He should be here, should be part of all this, not cold and alone.
“Sure, you can ride with me.” The sentinel kissed his mate good-bye. “Tell the boys to behave,” he said to Tamsyn, “and I’ll take them mud sliding later.”
Tamsyn murmured something that made Nathan grin and kiss her deeper, before stepping back. But when Soleil would’ve followed him to the garage, Tamsyn stopped her. “Just a moment, honey. I have something for you.”
Opening a drawer, she pulled out a card. When Soleil saw that it held an embedded credit chip, she blushed. “I was planning to pick up a job as a waitress—I saw some help wanted signs yesterday.” It was how she’d supported herself after leaving the hospital.
“There’s no need for that.” Tamsyn touched her shoulder. “You’re part of DarkRiver now, officially a junior healer under my command. You’ll be paid according to your experience. Consider this an advance against your income.”
Soleil didn’t know how to process that. “In SkyElm … It didn’t work like that.” Monroe had controlled all the money, with everyone having to apply to him when they needed something.
Soleil had set up a small business as a teen after figuring out that there was a market for rare dried culinary herbs; she’d felt so guilty for fudging the books so she could tuck away a small percentage of the profits, but she’d hated begging Monroe for money even more. She’d bought her clothes at thrift stores to make her funds stretch out, crafted her jewelry out of pieces others had discarded—and discovered she had a skill there, too. People had loved her colorful jewelry, paid her to make them bespoke pieces.
Together, those things had given her the bare basics of an income.
Of course, she’d still had to bow and scrape to Monroe now and then so he wouldn’t get suspicious. “There was food,” she clarified, feeling awful and disloyal to her old pack for her thoughts. “Anyone could grab a meal in the pack kitchen, and Monroe paid all the utilities.” He hadn’t kept up with repairs to the aeries, or maintained the private road to their settlement, but they’d all had places to live. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Tamsyn’s mouth tightened. “This might be a hard thing to hear, sweetheart, but your old pack was based on a seriously unhealthy foundation. Each member of a pack is meant to contribute to and gain from the strength of the pack—and as a DarkRiver healer, you’ll be working damn hard, trust me. I have no doubts that you worked exactly as hard for SkyElm.”
Shaking her head when Soleil would’ve interrupted, she said, “Food and utilities are the bare basics; those things alone are definitely not equal to a professional salary. Especially when SkyElm was an extremely financially healthy pack. Your alpha had the means to properly pay you and so does DarkRiver.”
The senior healer pressed the card into Soleil’s hand. “Use it or you’ll be answering to me.” A smile to take the sting out of the order. “I can sense your strong healing abilities, but do you also have medical training?”
“A little.” Still feeling awkward, but not wanting to insult her new pack, Soleil put the card into her pocket. “Yariela talked Monroe into allowing me to attend a paramedic course.”
“Think about whether you’d like to study further,” Tamsyn said. “We have non-changeling packmates who bank on us—I’ve actually begun to have some success using my healing ability on them, but it’s nowhere near as smooth as with other changelings. I’m guessing you worked mostly on ocelots?”
When Soleil nodded, Tamsyn said, “Even within changelings, healing can be unpredictable with those outside the healer’s own species—but I haven’t had any issues with our non-leopard feline packmates, so I’m guessing you’ll be fine healing up injured cats who aren’t ocelots.” She rubbed Soleil’s shoulder in gentle encouragement. “It’s the blood bond with Lucas, I think. Gives us the ‘in’ we need. Still, having medical training as backup means we don’t always have to rely only on our healing energy.
“But”—a smile—“that’s a discussion for later. Today is for you—and for that cool-eyed Psy you’ve claimed.” An intent look. “Go find out why your mating bond is incomplete … unless … do you want it? The bond?”
“Yes. He’s mine.” No hesitation, the truth a song inside her.
“Then go, find the answer so you can both settle into the pack.” A pause. “Though I have a feeling your Psy would do anything for you even without a bond. Be careful with him, little sister. He might look tough, but when strong men fall, they fall all the way. You’re his weakness.”
Throat thick and the need to go to Ivan a pulse inside her, Soleil nodded before she joined Nathan. She’d expected the ride to be a touch awkward, since even in a high-speed vehicle, it was a long drive. But Nathan had a warm and easy presence, and he didn’t feel the need to fill the air with chatter, so she could just look out the window and think about the man she’d never expected but who she refused to give back.
Soon enough, Nathan was pulling up at DarkRiver HQ. “When you’re ready to go home, just come back here,” he said. “You’ll be able to catch a ride with whoever is heading toward the territory next.” Familiar dark blue eyes on her, this pair tempered by age and experience. “Do you drive? We can assign you a vehicle.”
She shook her head, made herself say it. “My parents died in a crash. I was trapped with them.”
Expression gentling, Nathan brushed a hand over her hair. “Then don’t worry about it. You’ll never have a problem hitching a ride with a packmate. Now go drum some sense into your Psy, and if he annoys you, you come to me.”
Soleil suddenly understood what it must feel like to have a big brother. “Thanks, Nathan,” she said, already a little in love with this man who’d been a stranger yesterday.
It was only after leaving his vehicle that she realized she didn’t have Ivan’s address. Her cat rolled its eyes and told her to go left.
Farah appeared beside her as she walked. “So,” her friend said, “you don’t need me anymore, do you?”
Soleil’s eyes burned. “I’ll always need you,” she whispered, knowing that the Farah-shaped hole in her heart would never fill. “No one will ever take your place.”
“I know. I’m the best.” Hooking her arm through Soleil’s, she laid her head down on her shoulder, her curls tickling the side of Soleil’s face. “But you’re not fractured anymore. You’ll make new friends—you’ve already begun.”
Soleil couldn’t speak, but she reached up to touch that ghostly face.
A lopsided smile as her friend came to stand in front of her, Farah’s big brown eyes full of mischief. “Love you, Leilei. Go wrangle that sexy man of yours.” She winked. “Do everything I would do.”
She was gone a heartbeat later, her voice held like a precious jewel in Soleil’s heart, and the sadness of losing her settling like a thing old and weathered inside her. No longer was it a loss sharp and stabbing, and she even found herself laughing softly as she thought of the trouble Farah had gotten her into over the years.
God, she’d miss her best friend.
It was about ten minutes later that she found herself walking up the steps of an unfamiliar home bracketed between other narrow, old-fashioned homes of the same period. She didn’t know which period, architecture far from her strong suit, but she thought it might be well over two hundred years ago.
The security system at the door, however, was top-notch and required a voice and retinal print for access. So she pressed the doorbell. When Ivan didn’t answer the buzzer, she went to the security panel and scanned her palm. As expected, it was rejected—but it brought up the menu she wanted, which listed other ways access could be gained, should the scanners be down.
Please enter numerical code.
She began to type in a code below the flashing red instruction. She wasn’t even thinking about it … until the instruction turned green to signify she’d passed that stage of entry.
Security Question #1: First name of eldest cousin.
Her fingers flew over the touchpad, typing out Canto, a name she’d never before heard in her life.
Security Question #2: Grandmother’s home.
Soleil typed in: The Sea House.
Security Question #3: Where is she buried?
Soleil hesitated, a dark—and heavily masculine—wave of sorrow sweeping over her, then typed in: Nowhere.
Access granted.
A click, as the door lock disengaged. All the hairs on her arms standing up, she stepped through, then pushed it shut behind her. She should’ve been afraid of what was going on, the depth of their half-functioning bond, but all she felt was a certainty that this was where she was meant to be, urgency pounding at her.
She’d come into a small entryway, a narrow corridor to her right and a set of steep steps directly in front of her. “Ivan!”
Silence.
Her heart thunder, she began to climb.
Chapter 33
Ivan, call your grandmother.
—Ena to Ivan (20 July 2083)
IVAN KNEW HE was in trouble. He’d woken early, right after a hazy dream about a girl who’d looked a whole lot like Soleil, then decided to check out the situation in the Net.
That was where he’d made his mistake.
He’d emerged into the Net across from the psychic island that had broken off during the major PsyNet incident. Though he could “see” it, the dark mass was utterly blank to his psychic vision, as it was to everyone else. He’d caught the news reports yesterday, learned of a number of people whose minds had vanished from the PsyNet, but who were alive.
It should’ve been a simple matter for those people to tell others of what was going on in that fragment of the PsyNet, but every single individual found to date was either unable to communicate in a lucid fashion, in a coma, or catatonic on both the psychic and physical levels. Whatever was happening on the island had crashed all their brains.
