“But he is an E in some part,” Hawke pointed out. “He exists.”
Yes, she thought, Hawke was right. It explained the hereto inexplicable depth of Sascha’s joy whenever she was with Toby. “I’ve never met another X.” She didn’t know why she told him that.
Hawke didn’t respond until they’d exited the den and were heading out on a path that would lead eventually to the training run that had gotten ever more fiendish since Riaz’s return from a stint abroad. “How about a weak X?” he asked, his face lifted up to the clean, bright Sierra sunshine.
Beautiful man. “It’s such a rare designation,” she said when he shot her a questioning glance, “that there’s probably less than ten of us at any given time.” Even that was a generous estimate, considering what she’d gleaned about their life expectancy. “The theory is that Xs below 2 on the Gradient don’t manifest, so no one ever realizes. As for the others . . . I know of one who died during my teen years. I heard of another two who died before I was brought in.”
So much sadness, so much death.
“Of the two other living Xs I knew of in the Net,” she continued, “one was psychotic and the other hypersensitive.” It felt strange to talk of the X designation without feeling the vicious spear of pain down her spine that was the first level of dissonance, a warning not to speak of things the Council would prefer to keep secret. “It was possible I’d set him off if we came into close contact.”
“Didn’t that volatility make him a danger?” Hawke pushed silver-gold strands off his face, catching her eye.
“Yes,” she murmured, “but he must’ve been useful in some capacity because they permitted him to live.” Hawke had, she thought, the most fascinating hair, unusual and beautiful as his pelt in wolf form. “Why don’t you grow out your hair?”
“You mean like Luc?” He shrugged. “Not me, I guess.”
She had to admit she loved the way the strands brushed his nape, just long enough to be rebellious . . . to invite the caress of a woman’s fingers. Unsure where they were in terms of a relationship, what he’d accept, she tucked her hands under her armpits. “Why are you so like your wolf in human form?”
“There was a time when I needed it to be the dominant aspect even when I was in human form—the wolf was more mature than the boy.” He led her past the training run and into the trees. “My wolf was always near the surface. The experience heightened the effect.”
Startled at getting a straight answer, she scrambled to gather her thoughts. “I’ve heard changelings say it can be dangerous to spend too long with the animal in control.”
“It couldn’t be helped. I was fifteen when I became alpha.”
“So young?”
“Our alpha was dead, and so were most of the lieutenants and senior soldiers.”
“That’s why SnowDancer has such a young population.” Nowhere near the level of older people you’d expect. She went to ask another question when she realized they’d stopped in the shadow of a slender tree, its branches hung with elegant leaves that shimmered in the wind.
“I’ll give you,” he said, “a twenty-minute head start.” A pale-eyed wolf watched her out of a human face.
Chapter 19
THE FINE HAIRS on her arms rose. “To do what?”
“You have to get to the lake before I catch you.” A slow, provoking smile that kicked her straight in the gut. “Let’s see if you’re smart enough to fool the wolf.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Sienna had paid her dues, earned her status. “Is this a test?”
“Nope.”
Folding her arms, she spread her feet in a defensive stance. “Then I don’t have to do it.”
“I’m asking you to.” He angled his head to the side, the motion nothing human. “Afraid you’ll lose?”
She set her jaw. “I can beat you with my eyes closed.”
“I’m scared.” The wolf was laughing at her.
If she’d been able to growl, she’d have done it right then. “Are you allowed to circle to the lake and wait for me?” He was faster, would win even with the head start.
But he shook his head, strands of that gorgeous hair sliding over his forehead. “What would be the fun in that?”
She knew he’d manipulated her into accepting the challenge, but her competitive streak had kicked in, wouldn’t allow her to back down. “Fine. Start the clock.”
“Done.” He closed his eyes. “Before you go, I should tell you what you get if you win.”
“What?”
“A surprise.”
Oh, she very much wanted the ability to growl. “What if I lose?”
“I might throw you in the lake. Maybe.”
Not trusting him an inch when he had that smile flirting with his lips, she took off. He was far, far faster—she’d seen him run, and the sight had brought her heart into her throat. Built like the most beautiful living machine, all fluid sinew and tendon, muscle and strength, he so outclassed her when it came to speed that she didn’t stand a chance.
But there were other ways to tangle with a wolf.