CARESSED BY ICE

“You’ll see Sascha,” he ordered.

“Enough.” Judd’s voice held an unmistakable tone of command. “Bullying her into seeing anyone won’t help the situation.”

Riley took an aggressive step forward. “We call this taking care of our own. You’ve done your bit, so get lost. No one wants you here.”

Brenna felt her stomach drop. If Judd had been a changeling, those words would’ve been reason enough for a fight. A big one. And after having seen the look in his eyes when he’d spoken of executing Greg, she wasn’t so sure about his control. Stepping back in what she hoped was an unobtrusive manner, she let the fingers of one hand brush over his thigh. The muscles were bunched, ready to attack.

“Brenna is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” he said. “If you want to help her, stop making her feel incapable at every turn.”

She winced inwardly at that freezing tone. Oh, he was pissed, but covering it with a layer of Psy arrogance. “He’s right.” She looked at Riley, her hand flattening on Judd’s thigh. Strong warm muscle. It hadn’t relaxed even a fraction. “You two need to back off before you suffocate me. You, too,” she said to Hawke.

White lines bracketed his mouth. “Until we figure out what the hyenas were up to, the rules still apply. You’ve become a symbol of changeling strength—if anyone succeeds in taking you out, it’ll lead to blood. So stay in the den or within the inner perimeter.”

It chafed but she nodded, deciding to fight one battle at a time. Right now, that involved keeping her brothers and Judd from tearing into each other. “But you have to send Drew back to San Diego and reassign Riley so he’s not in the den so much.”

Her brothers growled. Hawke raised a hand to cut them off. “That’s family business. I need them here.”

“Then I want a room at the other end of the den,” she insisted, deriving strength from the dark angel at her back. “Or I swear I’m moving back to the city.”

Andrew swore a blue streak. “Now you’re being—”

“Don’t.” Judd’s quiet menace.

Her middle sibling went motionless. “How do I know you’re not . . .” His voice trailed off as she let out a choked cry, able to feel her face twisting into a mask of shock.

“That he’s not what? Controlling me?” she asked, throat thick with hurt. “Is that what you think of me—that I have no spine unless a Psy is forcing it on me?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Then you shouldn’t have said it!” She chose to turn the heartbreaking pain into anger. “I need you to stand by me, not chip away at my confidence. Do you know the only person in this room who’s never made me feel inadequate? Judd.”

Andrew sucked in a breath, as if he’d been punched. Riley was the one who answered. “You take these rooms. They’re the most secure in terms of their location. We’ll find bunks in the soldiers’ section.” He left without giving her a chance to respond, forcing Drew to go with him.

Hawke shot Judd a measuring glance. “I’m sending someone else to cover the cabin region for now.”

“Understood.”

Hawke left the next second.

Finally, she was alone. Except for the assassin at her back. “I need you to go, too.”

The muscled thigh under her palm bunched. “I know what they don’t.”

She broke the intimate contact—though her body wanted to explore it, to roll the feel of his hard body around her—and turned. “I’ll talk to Sascha soon. Promise.”

Cool Psy eyes met hers. “I’ll be in the den if you need me.”

“Where did you go yesterday?” A tendril of remembered anger wormed its way to the surface.

“Somewhere safe.”

She frowned. “The den is safe.”

“Not for me.” Not when he was unconscious and unable to defend himself. “At least a percentage of the population believes I killed Timothy.”

“They’ll get over it.” She shifted her balance from one foot to the other, then back again before continuing. “I spoke to Marlee.”

He waited.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was being such a bitch about Tk-Psy. I swear I didn’t.” She swallowed but didn’t attempt to break eye contact. “There’s so much in my head that doesn’t make sense, like the way I went after Greg. I don’t even like the guy.”

Something dark in Judd reared its head at the mention of the other man. “See if Sascha and Faith have any new ideas about what might be happening. I’ll do some digging on my own.”

She thrust a hand through her hair. “I will. But the thing with Greg—”

“Don’t say his name in my hearing ever again.”

Brenna’s mouth dropped open. “You’re still furious.” Her voice was a whisper.

She was wrong. If he’d been furious, blood would be soaking these walls, the smell of human tissue thick in the air. “Make those calls.” He left before she could ask him any more questions. The answers might send her screaming.