Since she felt like she’d been hit by a truck, she wasn’t going to argue with anything that made her feel better. Bringing the glass to her lips, she drank deep. It tasted slightly sweet, with a strong medicinal aftertaste. Guessing he’d laced the water with vitamins, she finished the entire glass before putting it on the table beside the armchair. “Whose blood is that?” she asked, seeing the damp towel.
“Whose do you think?”
She swallowed and looked at the very dangerous man sitting in the armchair across from her, one foot hooked easily over the opposing knee. It made him no less intimidating. In fact, the sheer calm of him set her pulse to clamoring. He was angry, so angry that her very cells spiked with fear. “Dev,” she began.
“When precisely,” he interrupted, “were you planning to tell me you were a telepath with enough power to conceivably blow out a mind?” Cool tone, flawless enunciation, eyes that tracked her with unflinching focus.
“I didn’t know.” She wrapped her arms around her torso, feeling unaccountably exposed. “I swear to you I didn’t know until just before I decided to go exploring.”
“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow. “Let’s leave that aside for a minute—exactly how stupid do you think I am?”
“I don’t—”
“Stop.” It was a single terse word that cut off her very breath. “The amnesia thing isn’t going to fly anymore.”
Emotion rose in a cresting wave. “It’s the truth. I’m remembering more, but it’s not—”
“I don’t give a shit.” Said in that same scarily calm voice. “All I’m interested in are your orders.”
“I. Don’t. Know.” The swell of emotion was filling her limbs, turning her voice husky. “And it doesn’t matter how many times you ask me—I’m still not going to remember until the memories come back. I might not remember even then, depending on the programming.”
“We’ve been over this—as far as Shine is concerned, you’re a fully functional covert operative.”
Shine.
Not Dev.
“And you?” she asked. “What do you think?”
A cool glance, with a dark edge she’d never before seen. “I think I’ve been made a patsy.” He stood. “But no one can say I don’t learn from my mistakes.”
“Dev—”
He bent down to put his hands on the arms of her chair, blocking her in. “Don’t ever try to scan anyone at Shine again. I’ve authorized the use of deadly force against you.”
All the air left her body. Her heart felt as if it had turned into rock. But she refused to let him see, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d savaged something barely grown inside of her. “Understood, Mr. Santos.”
His face, his expression, none of it changed. “Good. Make sure it stays that way.”
CHAPTER 22
Katya found herself staring at the door long after it closed on Dev’s back. Not that long ago, she’d asked him to kill her if it became necessary. Now, the thought of living was a rebellious pulse inside her. She’d beat this—if only to show Devraj Santos that she wasn’t an inconvenience he could lock away out of his sight. She was Katya Haas, and she was a person. She’d bled for her right to be a person. She’d survived!
Picking up the glass on the table with cold-blooded precision, she threw it at the door. It made a very satisfying crashing noise. She hoped Dev wasn’t wearing shoes the next time he walked into the apartment. In fact, she thought, picking up a vase from the coffee table, she hoped he shredded his feet. Another crash, the porcelain shards mixing with crystal.
As she searched for another breakable object, a drop of water fell on her hand. She glanced down, confused. Where had it come from? The ceiling was dry, and the water, when she raised it to her mouth, tasted of salt.
Tears.
She was crying. Lifting trembling fingers to her cheeks, she brushed wonderingly at the dampness. She’d cried before; she knew that. In that dark room where Ming had buried her, she’d cried so many tears. But none had been like these. Clean. Angry. Determined. This time, she didn’t feel a victim. She felt very much a woman who’d been wronged and who was going to get her vengeance.
Devraj Santos didn’t know who he was messing with.
Dev was still riding the red edge of fury an hour later when he coded in a call to Ashaya.
The M-Psy answered almost at once. “Is Katya alright?” were her first words.
“Did you know how powerful a telepath she is?”
Ashaya’s eyes went wide. “Yes, but she’d never use it to do harm.”
“The woman you knew might not have,” Dev snapped. “You have no fucking idea what she might do now.”
Dorian’s face replaced Ashaya’s. “That’s enough.” It was a snarl. “You fucked up in not asking the question. Don’t put it on my mate.”
Dev’s anger whiplashed back on him. He knew Dorian was right, had known before he called. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I apologize.”
Dorian waved it off. “Did she hurt anyone?”
“Not this time.” Pure, blind luck that Tag had been on-site. “I need to talk to Sascha.”
“She can’t do much about a telepath.”