“I wasn’t planning to, no,” Silver said coolly, though her entire body was warning her it had reached critical. “The recovery teams are en route, will be here in three minutes.” She’d put them on standby an hour earlier. “I’ve cut all the rescuers loose—the retrieval teams have the right equipment to safely clear the debris and recover the bodies and body parts still trapped in the blast zone.”
Valentin’s expression didn’t ice over at her cold recitation as changeling and human eyes so often did when she spoke. They thought that because she could be so calm, the loss of life meant nothing to her. Silver had never bothered to tell people that just because she didn’t feel didn’t mean that blood and death skated past her without impact.
So much potential had been lost this night, the vast majority of those inside the bar, people just starting out in their adult lives. That most of them had been human didn’t change anything . . . or perhaps that made it even more of a tragedy. Statistically, humans tended to be at the forefront of cutting-edge technological and artistic advances—though under Silence, the Psy Council had often stolen their tech work.
The human ability to think outside the box was why the business arm of Mercant Corp. employed a significant number in its science and tech enterprises. Hiring good people and paying them well—and also protecting their minds with their own telepathic shields—was far more efficient than forcibly stealing ideas.
“Silver,” Kaleb said, his tone as impossible to read as always. “Valentin is right. You’ll set back your recovery by days if you keep pushing yourself.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“You’re finished here then?” Valentin angled his body slightly toward her, as if to break a fall he saw coming.
“Almost. I need to complete the handover to the recovery commander when he arrives. The Arrows have agreed to provide security during the recovery process, in conjunction with a team of BlackEdge soldiers Alpha Durev is sending in.”
Valentin’s face held the harsh echo of sadness, his alpha heart feeling too much, but his lips kicked up a fraction. “So we two idioti should shut the hell up and stop telling you what to do?”
“I knew the dust hadn’t fogged up your brain.” Silver walked away to the sight of his eyes burning a wild changeling amber.
VALENTIN opened the passenger door to his vehicle, having driven it closer now that the area was horrifically quiet, somber with resignation and the shadow of death. Silver got in, would’ve slipped if he hadn’t caught her arm, given her a boost. She didn’t say anything until after he’d gotten into the driver’s seat and begun to back the vehicle in preparation for a turn.
“Spasibo.”
Valentin wanted to grumble at her for letting herself get to this state, but Starlight had made her point earlier—Valentin wasn’t about to lose her by being a rampaging bear, all wild emotion and no sense. Even if he wanted to yell at her, then cuddle her close, hold her safe.
Gritting his teeth, he found some human words. “What do you need once we’re home? I’ll tag Nova, have her on standby.”
“I just need to rest. No medications, no other treatments.”
“You eat at the site?”
“No, but I’m not sure I have the strength to chew right now.”
Bear half-mad by now, Valentin made a call, asked Chaos to prepare a nutritious soup. “No need to chew,” he said to Silver afterward.
He was expecting a smart comeback, but she stayed silent. Her profile was a clean line, her lips soft, her skin pale, and her eyes heavy. The vulnerability of her—the trust it exhibited that she’d chosen to come home with him when she could’ve asked for a teleport anywhere—it caught his bear’s heart in a grip both soft and steely.
That grip was formed of pure starlight.
He got them to Denhome as fast as safely possible. Chaos hadn’t let him down, despite the early morning hour, and had hot bowls of soup waiting. Silver barely got half a bowl into herself before she fell asleep, her head pillowed on her arms. Resisting the temptation to sneak a petting stroke of her hair was hard.
Better nature finally winning out over his bear’s grumbling protests, he scooped her up into his arms to carry her to her room. First, however, he had to scowl at Yakov, who’d tried to beat him to the punch.
The other man shrugged. “I just wanted to touch her hair.”
“Go pet Pasha’s hair.” Valentin snuggled Silver’s sleeping body closer. “She’s mine.”
“She know that?”
“I’m working on it.” Glaring away any other bears who might be tempted to come close, he got her into her room without further interruptions.
She was dusty from the site, no doubt sweaty, too, but he wasn’t about to strip her. He told Nova not to, either, after his sister responded to his request to check on Silver and make certain that rest was indeed all she needed.
“I’m taking off her boots at least.” Nova put those boots by the side of the bed, while Valentin pulled a blanket over Silver’s body.
“Rest well, Starlight.” His own body ached, but he was an alpha bear, could’ve gone on for another day if necessary. If he had his way, he’d spend that time watching over Silver. Ah, who was he kidding? Give him free rein, and he’d curl himself around her like a living blanket. He’d listen to the beat of her heart, feel the soft heat of her breath, the delicate strength of her bones.
“Come on, little brother.” Nova wrapped an arm around his waist. “You need to finish your own meal, then you can grab some sleep and dream of your Starlichka.”
Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he tugged her close, this sister of his who’d become the one he went to with his childhood hurts once his mother, Galina, stopped seeing him, stopped seeing all of them. At only a year older than Valentin, Nika had been as young and bewildered, while Stasya had been their fire, so angry for their shattered family that she’d picked a hundred furious battles with clanmates who couldn’t see through her rage to her pain.
It was Nova who’d held them together with her healer’s warmth, Nova who’d refused to embrace anything but love, Nova who’d made him his favorite snacks and told him she was proud of him when he did well at school. Their maternal grandparents had taken the adult role when it became clear Galina was barely hanging on, but it was Nova all three of them had turned to in their darkest moments.
Valentin often thought healers had the strongest hearts of any changeling. “I love you, Novochka.”
A startled smile. “I know, Mishka.” She patted his chest, her hand that of a healer, nails clipped short and devoid of the ornamentation she so loved on every other part of herself. “Your love is like a force of nature—even as a cub, once you decided a person was yours, you didn’t let go.” Smile fading, she said, “Tell me how it was at the site.”
“Horrible,” he said honestly. “So much death, so much loss. The only good thing about it was Silver.” He forced himself not to look back at her room, more than a little afraid his bear would waltz right in and make itself at home. “You should’ve seen her at work. She’s like a contained storm.” Handling a hundred things at once with no sign of strain or stress. “People trust her to be competent because there’s no way a woman that powerful and that in control would ever be otherwise.”
“Your crush is getting worse.” Nova patted his back, but when she looked up, her eyes were solemn. “I like Silver, but she’s incredibly Psy, Mishka. No cracks that I can see.”