“Good.”
“We have had four false negatives that tripped the slippery, sneaky keywords I programmed in,” Pavel added. “Juveniles arranging hookups outside of parental view.” The other man made a sulky face. “I almost turned them in because no boy ever wanted to hook up with a vision-challenged bear, but I restrained myself.”
“I’ll cry you a river when I give a shit.” Pavel might be vision challenged, but he was never bedmate challenged. Many, many bears and humans found him adorable. Especially when he flashed the dimples he had in both cheeks. Whereas harder-edged Yakov hated the dimples, Pavel had been known to take shameless advantage of his.
Those dimples were nowhere in evidence when Pavel said, “You really think someone in StoneWater could betray us?”
“No, but I’d be stupid not to listen to Lucas’s warnings.” A good alpha had to take every precaution to protect his clan. “Apparently,” he said, “this Consortium group has a way of getting under people’s skins.”
“You said they’re all about money and power.” Pavel scratched his head. “I don’t get it, Valya. I can’t believe they’d disrupt peace just for that.”
“That’s because you’re a bear.” The people they loved were everything to them, happiness not found in power or money. The latter two things were only useful because they helped protect the clan, helped keep their cubs and mates safe.
“I don’t know what would possibly entice a bear to consider betrayal,” Valentin added, “but I’d rather catch anything while it’s still small.” While he could still save a clan member who’d been led astray. “We do have people who don’t want me to be alpha.” It hurt every cell of his alpha’s heart to say that, but it was a fact.
Pavel’s face grew grim, the adorable lover replaced by the powerful dominant born with the same lethal drive to protect as Valentin. “None of those people are in Denhome.”
Valentin’s bear, too, roared that his people were loyal, but the lost part of his clan was a splinter in his soul that reminded him not everyone loved him as bears should love their alpha. “Keep the program running.”
“Consider it done.” Pavel folded his arms. “I also think the way you’re updating the entire clan on this should help protect us. Leaves no shadows for the Consortium to exploit and burrow into.”
Valentin nodded. Bears were terrible at keeping secrets . . . except for the very rare outlier, and the secrets the last outlier had kept had been horrific. “Spread the word about Silver, let people know outsiders might mean her harm.”
“I know you wouldn’t bring a threat into the pack.” Pavel’s gaze was unusually solemn. “But, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask if you’re sure she’s safe.”
“About as safe as Nova on a rampage,” Valentin said dryly. “But she won’t hurt us.” Valentin was alpha partly because he could read people, and he knew that in saving Silver’s life, he’d earned a certain loyalty from her and her grandmother. Neither woman struck him as the kind who’d forget that act of friendship.
Pavel nodded, taking his alpha at his word. Like all of Valentin’s circle of seconds, the other man wouldn’t ever hesitate to question him, but he’d also back Valentin when Valentin made a call. “I’m off-shift for the next eight hours. Unless you need me for anything specific, I’m going to go catch some shut-eye in the sun. If Yasha dares kick my ass, I’ll tear him a new one.”
“Go for it.” The other man slept less than any other bear in the clan except for his brother, but it was a natural inclination. Five hours and they were both revved up to go. It had made them little terrors as children. As adults, it made them annoying on occasion, but at least they didn’t commit the cardinal sin of being morning people.
After Pavel left to shift into bear form and snooze in the sunshine, Valentin took a look around the Cavern. His tiny targets—gangsters and all—were sitting on a plush rug in the far corner, playing a game under the watchful eyes of two elders. Crossing the massive span of the Cavern to reach the currently sweetly behaved group, he hunkered down. “Can I join in?”
Happy faces lifted up to his, tiny bodies shifted, and small hands patted at his arms as he took his spot on the rug. He listened as they explained the rules of the game; then, as a powerful, fascinating, dangerous telepath slept not far from him, he played with the children of his clan . . .
Not all of them.
Not the ones who’d been ripped from his heart by their parents and guardians.
Aching inside at the loss that was getting closer and closer to becoming a permanent scar, he opened his arms to a cub who wanted to crawl into his lap. The boy’s small body, the rapid beat of his heart—it all reminded him of the vulnerable he couldn’t protect within his arms, the ones who were out in the cold.
He had time yet. Not much. But some.
The Human Patriot
THE SILVER MERCANT situation concerned him. The plan he’d set in motion when she began to do an increasingly stellar job with EmNet was a good one, but the unpredictability of it chafed. He was a man used to control, and he had none in this. He just had to wait for her to consume the poison.
The outcome of which would now be further delayed unless she had taken her own food with her into the bear clan that was hosting her for a diplomatic stay. It had ostensibly been organized through Trinity and was linked to her position as director of EmNet.
He crumpled the printout of the media release.
How convenient that the Psy were beginning to inveigle their way into powerful changeling packs and clans. Whether they called it true love, or dressed it up as diplomacy, it was all about getting their hooks into the strongest alphas in the world. The second the Psy had enough operatives amongst the changelings, the alphas would no doubt start to die, to be replaced by puppets controlled by Psy telepaths.
It was how the psychic race worked. By going into the bear den as she had, Silver Mercant had proved herself as power hungry as any of her brethren. He’d been right to target her, felt no guilt any longer at the choice. EmNet’s “humanitarian” mission was a very clever front designed to give the Psy access to people who wouldn’t normally trust them.
“Patience,” he counseled himself. “She’ll keep.” In the meantime, he’d work on fine-tuning the details of his next target.
He wasn’t a bad person.
But neither was he a fool about to be railroaded into slavery masquerading as a bright new future. If he had to murder to achieve freedom, so be it.
Chapter 9
Deliver to: Silver Mercant at Krychek Enterprises, Head Office, Moscow
Text to read: Mr. I. M. A. Medvezhonok
SILVER WOKE ALL at once, at full alertness.
It was her usual waking process when she wasn’t in a hospital bed recovering from an attempted poisoning. No haziness, no fuzziness, just sleep and then snap, wakefulness. The telepathic scan was automatic, trained into her since childhood. Mercants didn’t sleep with one eye open, as was PsyNet myth, but they woke with both eyes open on the psychic plane.
Her scan picked up no Psy minds in the vicinity.
That was such a strange circumstance that Silver opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. Every city had a mélange of minds. Some, her senses glanced off—the changelings, with their adamantine natural shields; others, her mind recognized as like her own; still others, it shied away from—the humans, with shields so paper-thin that if she wasn’t careful, she’d unwittingly drill into their brains and drown in their secrets.