CARESSED BY ICE

“Your Ghost isn’t afraid to kill.”


Faith heard no judgment in Vaughn’s tone—her cat had killed to protect the innocent. And children, the first victims of implantation should the procedure be put into practice, were the most innocent of all.





CHAPTER 7


“It appears not. The explosion was investigated by both Enforcement and the Council, but without active support from a majority of the populace.”

“Why?” Vaughn asked, his body heat so seductive she found herself leaning ever closer to him, her hand on the hard muscle of his thigh. “Wouldn’t this implant make the Psy even more efficient?”

Anthony nodded. “In a sense. But the dissidents argue that Protocol I, while ensuring universal compliance with Silence, would have the unavoidable side effect of linking our minds together. Not as the PsyNet does, but on a biological level.”

Protocol I.

That it already had an official name was a bad sign. “They’re talking about a true hive mind.” Faith couldn’t control the disgust that laced her words.

“Yes. It’s nothing that appeals to those of us who prefer to run our enterprises free of interference. That would become impossible should the entire race begin to act as one entity.” He picked up his organizer—the thin computer tablet ubiquitous among the Psy. “From the pattern of attacks, it appears the Ghost shares our goals, but without knowing his or her identity, we can’t coordinate our efforts.”

Vaughn leaned forward. “The more people who know a name, the higher the chance of exposure. I say let the Ghost do his—or her—thing, and ride the wave it generates.”

“Your conclusion mirrors mine.” His tone signaling the end of the topic, Anthony brought up something on his organizer. “BlueZ has been waiting for its latest prediction for a month. Can you move it to the top of your list?”

Faith picked up her own organizer. “I can try.” She still hadn’t cracked the secret of bringing on visions to order. It was beginning to appear that that was one thing the Council hadn’t lied about—maybe there was no way to harness her gift that far.

Anthony moved on to another item on the agenda. Half an hour later, they were done and she was hugging him good-bye. He didn’t return the gesture, but did pat her lower back once. Only a former inmate of Silence could have understood the incredible impact of that act. She had tears in her eyes when he pulled away and walked out the door.

Barker, a DarkRiver soldier, was waiting to escort him out of the pack’s financial HQ. Located in downtown San Francisco, near the organized chaos of Chinatown, the building was both public and highly secure.

“Come here, Red.” Vaughn dragged her into his arms, melting the lump in her throat with his rough brand of affection.

It scared her sometimes, the strength of what she felt for him. “He’s important. The Ghost.” She’d had a knowing, not a vision as such but a hint of how things might be.

That was when it hit her. A true vision. A split-second image of the future.

But this one had nothing to do with the Ghost. It was about Brenna. Death. The SnowDancer was surrounded by death, her hands drenched in blood. Whose blood? Faith didn’t know but she could smell the raw-meat scent of it, the desperation, and the fear. Then it was gone—so fast she wasn’t even left with an afterimage on her retinas, much less any of the disorientation that sometimes accompanied the flashes of foresight.

It had given her nothing concrete, nothing she could share with Brenna, but it did serve to back up her instincts about what the other woman had told her on the phone. Hugging Vaughn, she returned to the topic at hand. “Do you think I should contact the NetMind about the Ghost?” A sentience that was at home in networks of minds, the NetMind was the librarian and some believed, the policeman of the PsyNet. Faith, however, knew it to be so much more.

“This guy seems to be working fine alone. You sure you want to mess with that?”

“I should’ve known you’d take the side of the lone wolf,” she teased, delighting in being able to do so.

He growled and she felt the vibration against her cheek. “Don’t compare me to those damn feral things.”

Tilting up her face, she smiled. “Damn wolves.” It was an imprecation often muttered by DarkRiver cats.

“Too right.” He kissed her. Hard. Fast. Vaughn.

“I’ll take your advice—I don’t want to inadvertently trigger something in the NetMind.” Though the developing sentience was good, it wasn’t completely free of the Council. “You know, I think the Ghost is going to be important to DarkRiver as well. Not now. But one day.”

“A vision?”

She shook her head. “Not even a knowing, really, more of a—” The words wouldn’t come.

“A gut feeling.”