She didn’t add Nikita’s name to that list, but the implication was there. This was Nikita’s chance for redemption, too. Kaleb didn’t need it. He’d never walked the Council’s path, despite being on it, Sahara’s the voice that held him back from evil no matter how twisted his soul.
“A vote,” Anthony said. “Those in favor of Ivy’s motion?”
Ivy. Aden. Kaleb. Anthony . . . and Nikita.
Chapter 24
Hope is the greatest gift and the greatest evil.
We hoped for so many eons that we could contain the firestorm of our minds, that we could use our psychic abilities without going mad, without shattering into violence, and so we continued on despite the heartache of losing our children and watching our children’s children get ever more fractured.
Hope saved us and hope might yet kill us.
THIS TIME WHEN Silver walked into the Cavern after her morning shower, she hit the breakfast rush. Seeing her, Dima the Barnacle ran over but didn’t clamp onto her leg. Huge brown eyes, shaded by the thickest lashes she’d ever seen on a child, fearlessly held her own.
“You wan’ bweakfast?” he asked in accented but readily understandable English.
“Yes, thank you.”
He slipped his hand into hers, his flesh soft. “I show you.”
Having readied herself for physical contact after noting how the cubs always touched the people in their vicinity, Silver permitted Dima to lead her to one of the large tables—with bench seats—that had been set up nearest the freshwater-fed pond in the corner of the Cavern.
Sunlight beamed down on the table from high above. That light, as well as the closeness of the moss-covered rocks and the scent of the tiny white flowers on the vines that crawled over the walls, made it feel as if they were eating outside.
Dima scrambled onto the bench seat alongside her. “I eat breakfast, too,” he said, switching to Russian with the ease of a child who’d grown up speaking two languages.
“Where did you learn English?” she asked him.
“Great-gamma Caroline,” he said in English. “Uncle Mishka says I’m smart.” An angelic smile before he returned to his half-eaten bowl of what appeared to be oats with dried fruits. Dipping his spoon into the oats, he lifted it up, put the spoon into his mouth.
A drop of oats fell onto his blue jeans.
Not thinking about it, Silver picked up the cloth napkin beside his bowl and wiped off the food before it could set. Dima kept eating while she dampened another corner of the napkin with a drop of water from the jug on the table, and further wiped the spot clean.
“Spasibo.” The Barnacle finished his oats with enviable speed, put down his spoon, then stood on the bench seat. He’d pressed his lips to her cheek and was scrambling off the bench, chortling, before she realized his intent.
“You gotta watch bears.” Anastasia Nikolaev slid into the empty place beside Silver, her long legs clad in black jeans over which she wore knee-high black boots. Finishing off the outfit was a thin round-necked sweater in cherry red, which showed off her impressive breasts. “They have a way of getting their paws on you. Even if they’re tiny paws.”
“I think I’ll survive.” Silver could still feel the soft, slightly wet kiss against her cheek, the contact lingering.
“You eat this, right?” Anastasia passed over a basket of bread that had been making the rounds of the table. There was a dangerous grace to even that small action; Anastasia Nikolaev moved like the dominant protector she was.
“Yes.” Choosing two plain wheat slices, she passed the basket to the person across from her, a teenager who was inhaling his food as if it were about to become a scarce commodity.
“Hi, Silver. Chaos said this is for you.” The juvenile who’d put a small jar next to her was gone in the direction of the kitchen before Silver could respond.
“Kitchen duty,” Anastasia said, spreading peanut butter onto her slice. “All the kids do it as soon as they’re old enough.” A nod at the jar. “What’d Chaos get you?”
Opening it, Silver saw a familiar substance. “Nutrient spread.” She picked up a knife and began to spread the nutrients onto a slice; she needed the burst of concentrated energy. “Does Chaos look after all guests this way?”
“He looks after all of us.” Anastasia’s attention was diverted at that moment by an older packmate who’d taken a seat on her right. White-haired, face wrinkled with life, the female had a soft voice Silver couldn’t hear from this distance.
Silver took the opportunity to look for Valentin, saw no sign of him. She did, however, pick up an odd emotional resonance in the Cavern that had her instincts prickling.
“Good morning, Silver.” Nova slipped into the seat the starving teenager had vacated. “You going into the city today?”
“No.” She had to see this through, had to find out who she was without Silence . . . and with Valentin.
Nova waggled both eyebrows. “That decision have anything to do with you having a certain alpha in your bedroom last night, hmm?”
“Privacy seems to be an unknown concept in the clan.”
Eyes dancing, Nova poured a mug of coffee from the carafe on the table. “We can mind our own business—once a day. Maybe twice if we’re very strong willed.”
“Novochka should know.” Anastasia took the mug of coffee her sister passed over, while Nova poured another for herself. “She’s got her nose in every pie in the den. Sniff, sniff, oooh, then sniff, sniff again.”
“Healer’s business.” Nova’s expression was the definition of prim. “How’s the leg, Jane?”
The white-haired woman beside Anastasia released a deep sigh. “I’m getting old; that’s how things are.”
“Oh?” Anastasia looked askance at the elder. “Way I heard it, you were climbing a tree with your mate when you injured yourself.”
Nova threw back her head and laughed a laugh nearly as big and warm as Valentin’s. “Busted! I knew it had to be something interesting when you refused to tell me how you’d ended up with an eversion sprain.”
The elder, her cheeks pink, said, “I have no idea what Stasya is talking about. I turned my ankle during a perfectly ladylike walk.”
“Talking of walks,” Nova said after the laughter died down, “anyone want to wander down with me to look in on the wild bears on the other side of the lake?”
“I’ll come,” a woman down the table said, her accent lyrical. “I need to waddle a little more while this cub grows fat enough to pop out.” She rubbed her rounded belly.
“We’ll go slow,” Nova promised.
“That’s my current fastest speed.” The pregnant woman stretched as Silver identified her accent as Irish. “I love my cub, but I can’t wait to run again. Really run.”
Silver had seen the brown-haired woman move around the Cavern and could categorically say she was far more mobile than Silver would’ve expected of someone in her advanced stage of pregnancy. Especially since she wasn’t changeling but human.
“I’ll join you if that’s all right,” Silver said. “I didn’t leave Denhome for most of yesterday, should get some fresh air.”
“You’re not too busy dealing with the fallout from yesterday’s violence?” Anastasia asked, her crisp tone far different from Nova’s warmth. Anastasia, Silver thought, always had her eye on the clan’s overall security, as was her job as Valentin’s first second.
“I do need an hour and a half to clear up a few matters.” The emergency part of the response was over, thus ending EmNet’s involvement. It was now all in local hands. “If you don’t mind waiting,” she said to Nova, “I can come then.”