No one argued with her.
“Right now, there are millions in the Net who’re starting to feel the pressure of recent events. These individuals will cling to Silence, to that which is known, if given the choice. We offer them that choice.”
“And plant compulsions when they come in?” Henry asked.
“Not necessary.” Ming evidently saw where Nikita was going. “The more people who get themselves reconditioned, the calmer the Net. And the calmer the Net, the less the rebels have to work with.”
“We won’t get that many,” Shoshanna said. “People try to avoid the Center.”
“You’d be surprised.” Tatiana’s voice. “Deep down, past Silence, past every line of conditioning, every barrier, our race fears the monsters within. They’ll come.”
And Kaleb knew she was right.
Mercy had surprised him, Riley thought as he exited his room the next morning. He’d expected an inquisition, and gotten a caress. “Cat,” he whispered under his breath.
“Riley!” It was Indigo’s voice.
He turned to wait for her, Mercy’s words whispering through his mind. He hadn’t lied. He respected Indigo a hell of a lot. She was one of the top-ranking people in SnowDancer—there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t trust her to handle. It irritated him that Mercy had questioned that trust. What irritated him more was that she’d made him question his personal preferences—was it so wrong to wish for a mate who’d stay at home rather than be out there facing God-knows-what?
Safe, he thought, a maternal female would be safe, protected within the domestic sphere that was her domain.
Unlike Brenna. Unlike his mother.
“What is it?” he asked, shutting the lid on those memories.
Indigo put her hands on her hips, namesake eyes bright with intelligence, black hair pulled back in a high ponytail. It reminded him of how Mercy did her hair. Both women were no fuss, no mess. But only one drew him with an intensity that was a claw in his gut, a fist around his throat.
Mercy would never play it safe, never allow him to shield her.
“Where were you yesterday?” Indigo asked, nostrils flaring as she tried to guess.
He wasn’t worried. Because Mercy wasn’t bound to him in any way, her scent wasn’t embedded in his skin. As his wasn’t on hers. Which meant no one knew of his claim—including the two South American sentinels who continued to sniff around her. His hand fisted.
“Checking on the bears,” he answered, forcing himself to release that fist. “Were you trying to reach me?”
“Yeah—Rats say Alliance mercenaries are moving in the city. No specifics yet.”
“Then the surveillance isn’t having an effect.”
“Wouldn’t say that—they’re having to dodge us to do anything. That’s got to be hurting.”
“Let’s hope it hurts enough that they pack up and get out.” He glimpsed a small, cardinal-eyed boy walking up the corridor. “Hello, Toby.”
Judd Lauren’s nephew gave him a sweet, shy smile, one that made him want to smile in return. The kid had that effect on people. “Hi, Riley. Hi, Indigo.”
“Hi, kiddo.” Indigo ruffled his hair.
Toby bore the indignity in silence. “I’m going to wait for Sascha.”
“Sascha’s coming up?” Indigo asked, one hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Toby nodded. “She’s gonna help me with some stuff.” He tapped the side of his head to indicate that “stuff” was mental, probably an aspect of his psychic abilities.
“Go on,” Riley said. “You don’t want to be late.”
Toby smiled again. “Okay.” But before he left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in brown paper. “This is for you.” He put it in Riley’s surprised hand and ran off before Riley could ask him what it was.
“Hey,” Indigo said, voice amused, “I don’t rate a present.”
“I’m his uncle.” The relationship was through Brenna’s mate, Judd, but Riley didn’t stand on such restrictions much. “I wonder what it is.”
“Open it.” Indigo made no move to leave.
“Ever heard of privacy?”
“No.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “You’ve been hanging out with Mercy.”
“We talk some,” she admitted. “It’s . . . not hard, but different, being a powerful female among this many men.”
He looked up in surprise. “But you’re not alone. We’ve got Jem—”
“Yeah, she’s a lieutenant but posted out way over in the L.A. region,” Indigo said. “Mercy’s the only one nearby who understands these things.”
“What things?”
“Well, if you could understand them,” she said with exaggerated patience, “I wouldn’t be talking to a cat, would I?”