He’d accepted blame for her nightmares, but she was the one who carried darkness in her blood, not Aden. Somehow, he’d survived his childhood and come through Arrow training with his spirit intact. Not only intact but strong enough, generous enough, to embrace each and every broken soul in his care. Thank you for holding me.
Come find me so I can do it again.
She’d realized this morning that there was no going back. The idea of sleeping without him, of not having his mind open to her own, it hurt more than anything had ever before hurt in her life. If there was a chance she hadn’t inherited the madness, that she could control her rages, then Zaira wasn’t going to be a coward.
She would do this. After all, she belonged to him, always had. There was only one thing she needed before she could surrender to her craving to possess the extraordinary man who saw the shadows of her and found them beautiful. Don’t let me become a monster, Aden, she said. If I go mad, promise me you’ll give the execution order. She wouldn’t ask him to do the actual execution himself; he cared about her, would be destroyed by it. Don’t let me become my parents’ shadow mirror.
You won’t, Aden said as his face came into view, the two of them having been walking toward each other from opposite ends of the valley compound.
His faith in her made her soar, but she was too pragmatic, too aware of what lay beneath the thin shell of control. I need the promise.
No. A hard jaw, an unwavering expression.
Zaira had a raw moment of insight, of understanding. Giving the order would break him, too. Aden was incapable of harming her—and that knowledge, it made her heart ache. She’d thought the organ too stunted to feel with such passionate agony. But it did.
Because this beautiful, powerful, incredible man saw her as precious.
As if she was his shiny, sparkling treasure. One he’d permit no one to take from him . . . not even her. “You are a stubborn man,” she said, her voice husky.
“Only about things that matter.”
He kept giving her more gifts, kept making her heart struggle to beat and giving strength to the tiny flame of hope inside her, the one that whispered she wasn’t insane, just a little broken. That was okay. Vasic was a little broken and Ivy loved him. Aden had broken pieces inside and they fit into the astonishing tapestry of him.
Most of all, her lover wasn’t scared of imperfection. “I’ll wait for you in Venice,” she said, brushing her fingers over his as another Arrow called out to him and her teleport spotted her. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
They separated but the telepathic pathway between them, it remained open until the teleport took her far out of range.
Chapter 45
BLAKE COULD FEEL his need building again.
He was having to go slowly with the human female. Beatrice had questioned him as to why the interrogation center was an abandoned warehouse and not an Arrow facility, and he’d had to pull rank to shut her down. She’d obeyed, of course, but he couldn’t risk pushing her too far too soon. Beatrice was a long-term plan, one that required patience. If he could corrupt her, he’d have someone with whom to share his finest moments.
With that end result in mind, he’d allowed her to take the lead in the interrogation.
His prey wasn’t a scientist’s daughter and knew nothing of any codes; it was amusing to watch Beatrice attempt to get the data out of her, but so far, his apprentice hadn’t done any real damage. That would change in two days, when he took over after her “failure.” Blood would flow, sweet and wet, as his victim screamed, but right now, he had to satiate his urges elsewhere.
Having made sure his schedule was open for at least three hours today, he scanned the semilit pathway between two streets filled with restaurants. Humans and changelings were so often stupid; they believed that walking in pairs would save them. He’d never taken two bef—
His eyes locked in on a couple heading toward him.
Not human.
Not changeling.
Psy.
He could tell because they looked nervous to be holding hands, as if not yet sure of the fall of Silence. As he watched, the man floated a rose to the woman using what must be very minor Tk if he’d been allowed to remain a civilian. The woman clasped the flower to her chest.
Blake wanted to crush them for their stupidity, but he’d never previously taken Psy victims on his own. His prior Psy targets had been Ming-sanctioned. As such, Ming had created a solid shield around those minds so that their death agonies wouldn’t alert the Net and draw unwelcome attention.
If he took these two, it would be without the benefit of that shield. Either one could shout out a telepathic scream, so he’d have to do it fast, as with that boy on the beach. An interesting challenge, he thought, his decision made. He waited until they moved just past his hiding place in a shallow recess in the wall, was a heartbeat away from striking when a mind knocked on his on the PsyNet.
Nerida.
Throttling his urges, because ignoring the Arrow in charge of security assignments wasn’t an option if he wanted to remain undiscovered, he stayed where he was and the stupid Psy couple with their sickeningly weak bodies walked past and into the night.
Forty-eight hours, he promised himself as he stepped out onto the psychic plane to speak to Nerida. Forty-eight hours and not only would he be able to assuage his need, he’d own Beatrice in the doing. Because it wasn’t Blake who’d take the victim’s life. No, he’d save that pleasure for Beatrice.
Once she did that, she’d be his.
Chapter 46
ELEVEN HOURS AFTER his phone call with Aden, Judd was at the San Francisco waterfront with Hawke and Riaz. Lucas and his senior sentinel, Nathan, met them at the Embarcadero warehouse both packs used for meetings with BlackSea.