BONDS OF JUSTICE

Her lips quivered for the barest fraction of a moment. “Max, are you trying to fix me?” It was impossible, and she couldn’t bear for him to realize that too late, walk away.

“No. I’m trying to save you.” An implacable, absolute answer. “It’s about choices. I need you to make one to fight those instincts—every time you give in, it eats away a little bit of your psyche.”

The otherness in her—twined with those dark threads that tasted of the Net—stirred, considered, bowed its head. “I can do that.” For Max, only for Max. He was a cop. He’d accepted her past with open eyes and an open heart, but what she did from now on, even if only a few individuals realized the depth of the connection between them, would reflect on him, stain his career—and she was too proud of him to chance that. “It’s a small price to pay to be with you.”

“No price, Sophie, no ultimatums.” An unqualified reassurance that made her want to pull him forward by the lapels of his suit jacket and kiss him again and again. “You belong to me—and I’m keeping you no matter what.”

“That means you belong to me, too.” It came from the dark heart of her, the place where no light had ever shone . . . until this man looked at her with eyes that said she wasn’t a piece of trash to be discarded because she’d proved imperfect. For the first time in her life, she had started to feel whole, the scars, the fractures, simply a part of her.

Max shrugged, that lean dimple flashing in his cheek. “I’m not arguing.”

“So,” she said, everything in her—even the once scared, lonely girl who’d only ever spoken through the hand of cold justice before—determined to stake its claim loud and clear, “if I find a business card from a female in your jacket, she had better be a colleague.”

Max felt a laugh build in his chest, had to fight the urge to tug Sophia into his arms and bite down on that full lower lip in a gesture of open possession. “No one will dare hit on me after I mention my wife is a J with a jealous streak.”

Wife. Her composure splintered. “Max, no matter what, we could never—”

“I told you, Sophie. You’re mine. End of story.”





CHAPTER 35


In certain types of cases, most cops immediately suspect the father. Nobody thinks of the mother, not at first. Except me. And I wish I didn’t.





—From the private case notes of Detective Max Shannon


Ryan Asquith entered the conference room looking as unruffled as ever, but that, of course, was de rigueur for the Psy. Max didn’t say anything for several long seconds after the intern arrived. Taking her cue from him, neither did Sophia. Finally, Ryan glanced at his watch. “Am I early, Detective?”

“You didn’t tell us you’d undergone reconditioning,” Max said, instead of answering his question.

The young male didn’t so much as blink. “Everything is in my file.”

“And you didn’t think to mention the fact that you’d killed using Tk when we’re investigating a murder that may have had a Tk component?”

Ryan’s eyes skated away from Max’s. “I assumed you already knew. The personnel department did a full screen on me when I applied for this position.”

“Interesting thing is,” Max murmured, “seems the department just does a basic screen for short-term interns.”

Sophia put her organizer on the table. “The detective doesn’t understand, Ryan,” she said in a quiet, calm tone.

“Oh?” Max raised an eyebrow.

“Those of us who go through a reconditioning,” Sophia answered, “aren’t considered criminals for any acts committed during the period of fracture, because there is no intent.”

Ryan nodded, holding Sophia’s gaze. “Exactly. I knew if I told you of the incident, you would focus on me, leaving the true murderer to go free.”

“But you can see,” Sophia said, “how this places you in the center of the investigation.”

Ryan glanced down, then up, saying nothing.

Sophia tapped Max’s foot at almost the same instant. Getting the hint, he rose to his feet. “I’m going to grab a bottle of water from outside while Ryan gets his thoughts in order. Sophia?”

“Thank you, some water would be great.”


Watching the door close behind her cop, Sophia turned her attention to the boy in front of her. And he was just that, only a boy. A boy, who, somewhere deep inside, was terrified of his own abilities. “Tell me what you were hesitating to say in front of Detective Shannon.”

“Will you keep it confidential?”

Right then, Sophia saw something in Ryan’s eyes that she’d never expected. “As long as it doesn’t affect Councilor Duncan’s safety, it won’t go beyond these walls.”

“At the time of Edward Chan’s murder, I’d locked myself in one of the meeting rooms that almost no one uses because I needed to meditate.”

“Do you continue to have trouble with your Silence?”

“Yes.”

It was a confession that could have this boy sent back to the Center, which made Sophia more inclined to believe him. “Why did you tell me?”