“THANK YOU.” SILVER took a seat on one of the stools at the counter nearest the door. Bowls of fruit, snack bars, and a clear jar of cookies sat on one end.
The model-beautiful man brought her a tall glass filled with a familiar liquid. “I was able to source a jar of nutrient drink for you.”
Having not expected that courtesy after his cool greeting, Silver said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nutrient drinks were the fastest way to beat psychic fatigue.
“Not a problem.” Still no smile, his face all smooth skin and flawless symmetry, his shaved head only serving to bring the perfect lines of his face into sharper focus. “I’ll bring you a plate of solid food, too.”
From his curt manner, Silver came to the conclusion that this changeling was unhappy about her presence in Denhome. Then he brought her the plate of food; it held high-energy items, all of which she knew were naturally light on flavor.
As if correctly reading her response, though she’d made no betraying movements or sounds, the man—who she guessed to be the cook—said, “I did a little research. Recipes are creeping online now, with Psy starting to step out of their comfort zone.”
“You took extra time out of your day. I appreciate that.”
The faintest thawing of his features, his light brown eyes wrinkling at the corners. “You’re welcome.”
After he moved back to supervise the other workers in the kitchen—who were shooting Silver curious looks but, oddly for bears, keeping their distance—Silver watched him without appearing to watch him.
He was calm and competent and clearly respected. Pair those traits with his symmetrical good looks and, if anyone should’ve provoked a reaction in Silver, it was this man. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from keeping an eye—and ear—open for Valentin’s booming laugh, his overwhelming, uncivilized presence.
“Hey, if you have a thing for Chaos, you’d better tell Mishka now.”
Silver glanced at Nova as the healer took a seat beside her at the counter. The other woman was wearing a scoop-necked and wide-skirted dress in leaf green with small white flowers dotted randomly over the fabric. It had three-quarter-length sleeves that exposed the tattoo on her forearm, which Silver had already noted. Two letters, one big, one small, circled by a pattern of hearts and stars. Neither initial was Nova’s.
“What,” she said, focusing on the most pertinent matter, “is a ‘thing’?”
“Aw, come on, Seelichka.” Nova reached up to fix the jaunty ponytail she’d tied with a white ribbon. “You know exactly what I mean, so don’t pull that ‘I am a Psy robot’ stuff with me.”
Silver returned to her meal, considered her answer in between keeping an eye on her steady stream of phone and telepathic messages. “I’m Silent, Nova. I choose to be Silent.”
“You sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Hmm . . . Then why were you checking out Chaos?”
“I wanted to see if he wasn’t smiling at me because he doesn’t like Psy, or if he simply doesn’t smile at anyone.”
“Weirdly, that makes sense.” Nova sighed and, propping her elbows on the counter, cupped her chin in her hands and turned huge dark eyes in the direction of the cook. “That hunk of a man does smile, but he doles it out like it’s a rare spice, and he’s only got a limited supply.”
Chaos, who’d been walking toward them, shot Nova a scowling look. “Eat this.” He thrust a plate across the counter with that terse command in English. “And stop telling lies about me.”
Blowing him a kiss, Nova beamed at the small, perfectly decorated cake Chaos had given her before answering in the same language he’d used. “Chocolate cake for breakfast? I love you, honey bunny.”
Scowl deepening, the changeling male reached over and, gripping Nova’s pointed chin, kissed the healer on her lushly painted lips. When he drew back, she lifted the cloth napkin he’d brought over and wiped the hot pink color off his lips. “Good morning to you, too, moy dorogoi Alik,” Nova said, alerting Silver that Chaos had a given name quite different from how he was usually addressed. “Now go be your sexy, tall, gorgeous, and silent self.”
Chaos gave what Silver read as an exasperated sigh before he moved back toward his work crew—who did a very bad job of hiding their grins. “You all want a second kitchen shift?” he growled and got a wave of shaking heads, grins still wide. “Then back to your jobs.”
“He’s your mate?” Silver asked under the cover of industrious activity.
“Yes.” Nova’s smile was gleeful. “All mine since we were eighteen.” Forking up a bite of cake, she made a humming sound in the back of her throat that had Chaos watching her with intense interest from the other side of the kitchen. Nova blew him another kiss. “My love always says he won me by winning my stomach.”
“Did he?”
Nova gave a throaty laugh. “I knew that grouchy polar bear was mine the day I first saw him in Babushka Caroline’s birth clan, when she took all us grandchildren along for a visit when I was sixteen.” A dreamy smile. “But I had to play a little hard to get, didn’t I? Give him a chance to court me.”
Another bite of the cake. “Boy, does that man know how to court a woman.”
“Do you have children?”
“The Barnacle is ours.” Her eyes shimmered with maternal love. “Stasya looked after him last night, so he’ll still be cuddled up in bear form with her—he likes sleeping over at his aunt’s because, like aunts the world over, she spoils him silly,” Nova said before raising her voice. “Talking of small bears, I see someone is still sneaking out of bed before dawn.”
The little brown-haired boy giggled.
Smile wide, Nova nudged her plate toward Silver. “You want to go wild and try some?”
Shaking her head, Silver replied to an urgent message on her phone. “I apologize,” she said to Nova afterward. “I’m receiving EmNet updates.”
“Sure, I get it.” Nova’s expression turned serious. “I did a shift at the hospital while you were asleep—I’m officially on staff in case of emergencies where a bear is taken in, but I figured they could use all possible backup with so many badly wounded.”
Silver met the other woman’s eyes. “I haven’t had a chance to read the report on the survivors.”
“Thirteen made it past the first few hours.” Nova put down her fork. “Eleven look like they might recover fully, but it’s contingent on no infections or complications. The other two are hovering in that twilight that could go either way.”
Chaos moved across the kitchen with a mug of coffee. After placing it in front of Nova, he ran his hand over her hair. Though the couple exchanged no words, Nova’s sadness no longer seemed as heavy a black cloud when her mate returned to his work.
“I don’t understand people who carry out these crimes,” she said. “I mean, what does it achieve?”
“Logic isn’t what drives them.” Silver had seen evidence of that truth over and over again. “The Pure Psy fanatics who attacked the SnowDancer pack in the Sierra Nevada mountains were convinced theirs was a righteous war that would make the world turn in the direction they wanted.”
They’d believed the Psy race was stronger and more powerful under Silence, that any alternate existence was untenable. “It never occurs to them that others may not agree with their goals.” Silver needed Silence, but that was her choice. No one had the right to dictate it.
Nova’s lips parted before she looked over her shoulder without warning. Silver didn’t need to turn to see what had caught the other woman’s attention. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck had just reacted as if electrified, her heart slamming against her rib cage. Not in primal warning. In an awareness she’d been attempting to stamp out since the day Valentin Mikhailovich Nikolaev first entered her life.