BRANDED BY FIRE

The answer came within a split second, less.

The image she’d sent was returned to her, but with the DarkMind scrubbed out. So this wasn’t the DarkMind trying to speak in what ever limited, tortured way it could. But then the NetMind sent her another image—of the PsyNet, with tendrils of darkness creeping through it. Except this darkness wasn’t normal, wasn’t healthy. It was putrid in a way Faith couldn’t explain—she just felt it deep in her soul.

An image of a thousand tears overlaid the snapshot of the PsyNet.

The PsyNet was dying, Faith thought, and the NetMind was the PsyNet in many ways. Her heart stuttered. But this sending also had another message—the DarkMind might not be driving these acts, but its influence had subtly corrupted another, or others. However, though it was tempting to think of the DarkMind as evil, Faith knew that was wrong. It was also a sentience, and the blame for its insanity lay in Silence.

She sent the NetMind an image of arms outstretched, an offer of help.

The response was of a globe, but a globe colored in the shades of the Net—white stars against a background of black velvet. Around that globe was a shimmering shield that repelled her hands.

The Net wasn’t ready for help.

But there were cracks in the shield. She touched a finger to one crack, and knew that was Judd. The one next to it, Walker. And not far from them, Sascha. So many fine, fine cracks. The most isolated one, the newest … no, this was the very first, but it was hidden, hidden deep. And it was male, powerful, so very powerful. When this ghost … “Oh,” she whispered, realizing who it was she touched. “The Ghost.” When the most notorious rebel in the Net broke his Silence, the shield would well and truly shatter.

What the NetMind couldn’t tell her, and her foreseeing gift refused to see, was if the PsyNet would survive … or drown.





CHAPTER 40





“It’s later.”

Riley looked around Mercy’s office, curious. It was neat, but with an indefinable flair that was indisputably her. “Where’d you get this?” He gestured at the striking wall hanging behind her desk.

To his surprise, she didn’t push him. “Peru. I went roaming down south after I decided medicine wasn’t for me.” Coming to stand beside him, she smiled. “That was a hell of a lot of fun. I hung out with my grandmother’s pack for a while—even went to Carnaval in my leopard form.”

He could see her in the wild color of Rio de Janeiro. “With Eduardo and Joaquin?”

She laughed at his tone. “No, they were doing some roaming of their own.”

“Why did you choose to study medicine?”

“You know how we double up—I talked to Tammy and we decided it’d be nice to have someone else medically trained. But it didn’t fit.” She shrugged. “So I took some time off, went back and majored in communications instead. Much better fit.”

Riley nodded. “I didn’t study beyond high school.”

Mercy was surprised to hear the hint of hesitation. “Riley, you’ve been working in the pack since forever. You did an apprenticeship—I bet you’re the go-to guy for everything and then some.”

He gave her a slow smile that rocked her heart. Ah, damn. Pretty soon this wolf was going to become indispensable to her happiness. And the leopard both craved and feared that.

“I think,” he said, “I’d like you to take me to Carnaval one year.”

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say, but it succeeded in making her heart melt. For her, with her, Riley was willing to play. “You didn’t roam, did you?”

A shrug. “I chose that—the pack wouldn’t have minded if I’d taken off for a while. But I couldn’t.”

Because that wasn’t who he was, Mercy thought. The predator’s need to protect had overcome its need to roam free. “I’ll take you to Carnaval,” she said, stepping up to stand in front of him, hands braced against her desk, “if you stop avoiding the reason we’re in here.”

He thrust a hand through his hair, and when he looked at her again, any hint of vulnerability was gone, replaced by steely determination. “I’m keeping you.”

Mercy blinked, so startled the leopard wasn’t sure whether to snarl or stare. “Isn’t that up to me to decide?” Females always had the last say in the mating bond.

He stepped closer, every inch the SnowDancer lieutenant. “You’re my mate. End of story.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You can’t dictate that.”

“Mercy, we’re in the mating dance—just being around you turns my wolf crazy.” Making a sound of sheer frustration, he did something she’d never have expected from staid Riley Kincaid before he showed her his wild creative streak. He reached forward, curled one hand around her neck, put the thumb of his free hand on her chin, and had her mouth open before she realized what he was about.

The kiss was long, deep, breathtakingly sensual.