CARESSED BY ICE

“They must’ve had some plan for you to escape rehabilitation.” She squared her slender shoulders. “A new identity, something!”


“The sentence was for everyone in the Lauren family,” he said, accepting that she deserved to be treated as an adult at least in this. To do anything else would disrespect her intelligence and spirit.

“Why?” she interrupted before he could answer. “I know my mother committed suicide and we had some incidents of instability in the family, but why sentence us all?”

Yes, she was smart. “We’re very strong as a group, Sienna. Before Kristine’s death, we had three cardinals.” That didn’t count his, Walker’s, or Marlee’s considerable powers. “We threatened someone powerful enough to get us wiped out.”

“I figured . . .” She looked up. “And you?”

“My name was removed from the family register at age ten.” The age at which he’d first killed. “My birth certificate doesn’t exist, nor do any medical records aside from those in the squad files.” Including a DNA profile that would send up a classified red flag if he was ever typed. “As far as the general Net is concerned, I don’t exist.” No Arrow did. “There was no need for a new identity. I wasn’t considered a Lauren.”

Her eyes widened. “Then why defect?” she whispered. “You walked into what should have been certain death.”

Looking into that bruised, confused face, he decided to tell her the truth. Because Sienna’s abilities, while very different from his own, sprang from the same dark core. “There is a line that, once crossed, can never be uncrossed.” He reached out to touch her hair. The dark red strands were soft under his fingertips. It was the first time he’d ever touched her in anything other than training.

“If I had let you all die while I remained safe, it would’ve pushed me over that line.” Because they’d been under his care. He might have been wiped from the official records, but he’d always existed to Walker, Sienna, Marlee, Toby . . . and Kristine. She’d been his sister and mother to this powerful girl. But unlike her tenacious, headstrong daughter, Kristine had broken irrevocably under Silence.

Sienna’s face turned heartbreakingly fragile. She gave a tiny jerk forward before stopping. And because of Brenna, he understood. Ignoring the damage it might cause, he tugged her into the enclosure of his arms. She was frozen for a long time and then he was sure she cried. As he held her, he felt things, his shielding close to nil. Warmth, affection . . . the protective love of a brother for his lost sister’s child. Sienna looked so much like Kristine, but until this moment, he hadn’t acknowledged the pain that caused him. The dissonance was an excruciating symphony of spiked hammers in his head.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, suddenly aware that that might explain some of Sienna’s behavior. She had martial talents like him, and unlike either Faith or Sascha. From everything he knew about how the other two women had broken Silence, he was almost certain that martial minds were conditioned in a unique way—particularly when it came to the strength of the dissonance. “The fragmentation of Silence, does it hurt?”

A slow nod. “I can’t be like before, but it’s as though my mind wants to force me.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, but he heard the incredible pain in it.

It put the final seal on the decision he’d made in the predawn darkness after leaving Brenna, devastatingly aware that he couldn’t give her what she needed to feel safe and happy. It broke something in him to fail her that way. “I’ll figure out a way to undo the pain protocols.”

“You know we can’t.” A whisper. “You and I . . . we need the pain to remind us to keep it under control.”

It.

Their different but equally destructive abilities. “Maybe we can make new rules for a new life.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” she whispered. “What if we hurt people?”

Images of bloodied and twisted bodies cascaded through his mind. “We won’t.” He only hoped he would be able to keep his promise . . . and that Brenna wouldn’t pay the ultimate price for choosing to give her heart to a rebel Arrow.





CHAPTER 43


He was sweating. It had taken him two hours to return to the den after Riley had sent him on some bogus training exercise. After Brenna was dead, he’d return to where he was supposed to be without anyone being the wiser. The perfect alibi.

He glanced at his watch and then at Brenna’s door. D’Arn was leaning against the wall, but the killer didn’t make the mistake of assuming the other soldier wasn’t aware of everything going on around him. Sights, sounds, smells. It was why he’d chosen this hiding spot, in the wrong direction for the air currents to carry his scent.

All he needed was three seconds with that bitch who just wouldn’t die.