They kept those forests as natural as possible, but Denhome itself wasn’t in any way backward. Having watched and learned while he was Zoya’s first second, Valentin had purchased a satellite for his clan as soon as he had the power. It meant their communications weren’t reliant on any outside party.
Of course, that satellite was more irritating than a smug wolf when it bounced him calls at moments when he’d rather be left alone. Like right now. Glancing at the screen, he saw Pavel’s name. “What is it?” he asked, aware the other man was on sentry duty.
“I have a very pretty dude here claiming to be your Starlight’s brother. Silver eyes, black hair, supermodel bones, is giving me a death stare.”
Sitting up, his bear at attention, Valentin looked at Silver. “You have a brother?” How had he never unearthed that fact?
A pause, her head angled as if listening. “Arwen is here,” she said. “He says he wasn’t giving anyone the death stare—that’s his normal expression.”
“Must run in the family.”
Silver’s response was a look that was all ice.
Wanting to kiss her so bad it hurt, he told Pavel to guide the other man to a particular section of the territory, one that wasn’t too close to Denhome. It was one thing to trust Silver and Ena not to betray them, quite another to trust a brother he’d never seen.
It took them twenty minutes to reach the location.
Pavel leaned against a sleek black vehicle while another male stood nearby. Valentin recognized him at once—he was a regular visitor to Silver’s apartment. But the color of their eyes aside, the two had little in common physically speaking.
Arwen Mercant looked to be shorter than his sister, maybe five seven or five eight. That black hair Pavel had already noted, straight and smooth and cut with CEO ruthlessness, not a strand out of place; a skin tone that was more olive than golden; the “supermodel” bones that equaled high cheekbones and a square jawline.
While his eyes were the same shade as Silver’s, they were tilted sharply at the corners, giving him a silkily feline appearance.
Right now, he looked about as suited to these primeval forests as a peacock. His suit was dark gray and flawlessly fitted, his tie a stylish black.
“Arwen.”
Valentin heard a subtle warmth in Silver’s tone that had him listening hard.
“Silver.” Walking forward, her brother stopped a foot from Silver.
Silver didn’t make contact, either. It wasn’t how changelings would greet each other, and it definitely wasn’t how bears would greet a sibling who’d been hurt, but Valentin didn’t make the mistake of thinking they weren’t close.
Back when he’d noticed all those visits by Arwen in the surveillance files Pavel kept on all the major players in the area, he’d been jealous until he’d gotten a close look at the other man’s eyes and figured out he was family. Now that he knew their relationship, the visits took on another meaning.
Chapter 14
The E-Psy, or empaths, as they are called in the vernacular, are something of a peculiarity. The powerful among them can heal the most devastating of emotional wounds. Folklore says they can cure insanity. That has never been proven. What has been proven is that they can certainly help people through difficult emotional times, absorbing negative emotion in a way that defies even psychic explanation.
“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Silver asked her brother, keeping the conversation on the audible level so as not to be rude to her hosts.
Right then, however, Valentin moved away to speak to Pavel. The distance was such that neither bear should be able to hear this conversation if she and Arwen maintained a low volume.
“I needed to see you were all right.” Her brother let his shields fall; on his face, she saw layer upon layer of deepest emotion.
Arwen’s vulnerability was a rare thing in the world in which they lived.
“I’m fine.” Of the two of them, Silver had always been the more ruthless and pragmatic. Arwen’s Gradient 7.9 empathic abilities sometimes threatened to leave him wide open to the violence and chaos of the world.
She—all of the Mercants—had always known he was precious, had protected him from the cradle, but only now did they understand that he was likely responsible for the deep mental stability of the Mercants over the past twenty-nine years, give or take a few weeks. Arwen made them better.
Better people. Better Psy. Just . . . better.
“Are you sure?” her brother asked. “This environment . . .” Stepping closer, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you aware you’re wearing a monstrosity of a sweatshirt and canvas sneakers?” A scandalized look down at those sneakers. “I’m half-afraid you’ve been brainwashed.”
“I’m adapting to my circumstances.” Seeing below the frivolous comment to the concern that had brought him here, so far out of the city that was his comfort zone, she touched him on the arm. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”
He froze for a second, the reaction an instinctive one for siblings who’d grown up under Silence. But he softened far quicker than any other member of the family would’ve done, lifting his other hand to place it over hers. As she’d learned to give Arwen what he needed to feel emotionally healthy, he’d learned to see through her Silence to the certainty that she’d die to protect him.
Silver didn’t know how to love, but she knew how to hold on to her people.
“You look good.” Relief colored his tone. “You’re recovering?”
“It’ll take a little time to get back to full strength, but I suffered no permanent damage.”
“You’re in a . . . a jungle with a clan of bears who don’t even believe in proper roads. What if you have a relapse?”
“The StoneWater healer is fully qualified.” Silver knew from the research she’d done into the clan that Evanova “Nova” Nikolaev was an M.D. as well as a changeling healer. “I’m in excellent hands.”
Arwen sighed. “You’re determined to stay here? It’s so primitive.”
While her brother was a sophisticate through and through.
Gentle and kind and the best Mercant of them all, but a snob when it came to his clothes and the cut of his hair. He’d lay down his life for a stranger in harm’s way without thinking twice—but even as he died, he’d probably be judging the clothes and shoes of everyone around him.
Pavel looked over at that instant, winked at Arwen. Who turned right back to Silver. “If you’re determined to remain in this den of savages,” he said in a tone designed to carry to sensitive changeling ears, “I’ll make sure to visit regularly so you don’t forget civilization.”
Used to him, Silver said, “Come, I’ll introduce you.” But by the time she reached Valentin, Pavel—whom she knew through her spy files on StoneWater—had melted away into the trees with unexpected stealth. It was a timely reminder never to forget that bears were dangerous predators under the skin. Even bears who wore spectacles and had dimples in both cheeks.
“You’re Arwen.” Valentin held out a hand in an action that said he’d noted their physical contact.
Arwen shook it. “Alpha Nikolaev,” he said formally. “Thank you for offering Silver sanctuary until we get to the bottom of this.”
“Progress?”
Arwen shook his head. “I did get access to the report on the poison. It has a unique composition.” Slipping out his whisper-thin combined organizer and phone, he brought up the chemical breakdown and turned the screen to face them. “I can run through the components.”