CARESSED BY ICE

Handing Nate the bloody towel, Brenna gripped Judd’s hand and watched Tamsyn begin repairing muscle damage with a tiny internal-use stitch gun. “You’re very good.”


“I have a medical degree. Figured I might as well back up the healing gifts with good solid knowledge and equipment so I don’t spend my healing energy unnecessarily.” There was a darkness to the other woman’s tone, as if she were remembering a time when her gifts hadn’t been enough to save a life. “And you know how it is—we can assist each other with ideas and strategies, but changeling healers’ gifts only really work well within our own animal species. I can’t even get the gift to recognize Judd.”

Brenna nodded. “What did you mean about the drugs?”

“Hmmm.” She handed a slender metallic torch over to Brenna. “Shine that here so I can see what I’m doing.”

Keeping one hand on Judd’s, she did as asked. The beam delineated every tear, every shredded piece of flesh. Worry clawed through her veins, but she made sure her hand didn’t shake.

“It’s got something to do with their abilities and how energy is processed,” Tamsyn said, picking up the thread of the conversation. “That’s why Jax messes them up so bad.”

Nate’s explanation was blunter. “Drugs fuck with their powers. Sascha refuses to touch even beer or wine.”

It put a whole new spin on what Judd had told her about Jax. “I didn’t know that.”

“Makes you wonder why they take Jax in the first place,” Nate said. “Doesn’t go with their need for control.”

“Maybe they want to forget what they’ve become.” Tamsyn’s tone was sad. “Jax degrades memory, too.”

Nate grunted. “Whatever the reason, it’s still the weak ones who take it.”

She understood. No matter what the race—changeling, human, or Psy—it was the weak, broken, or damaged members who succumbed. Brenna’s lips tightened. Pain was no excuse for becoming an addict—she hadn’t taken the easy way out and oh, how she’d wanted to. But the worst were the dealers, the scum who preyed on the vulnerable.

“So,” Nate asked, “you know who did this?”

Her stomach curdled. “Can we talk about that afterward? I think Judd should be awake for it.”

“Fair enough. I have to let Lucas and Hawke know you’re here.”

“Can you hold off for a few hours?” It would give Judd time to recover at least a little and she needed him at her back. If what she believed was true, then she couldn’t do this alone.

The leopard male studied her for several seconds. “Give me a good reason.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath. The iron-rich scent of blood was overpowering to her senses. Her eyes snapped open. “Because I scented my family on Judd before the rain washed the markers away.”

“Shit.”




Judd returned to consciousness two hours after they’d arrived, his eyes looking a touch feverish but otherwise clear. Too clear, given the extent of his injuries.

“What, you gave yourself a psychic blood transfusion?” Tamsyn asked in a tart tone at odds with the concern on her face.

Judd flexed the hand of his bandaged arm, the thin white gauze appearing deceptively weak. “I need some food to replace the energy I lost.” Not an answer.

Tamsyn scowled, but Brenna felt only warmth from her. Like Lara and Sascha, the DarkRiver healer was inherently gentle. “Why does everyone think they can get fed in my kitchen?”

Nate hugged his mate from behind, kissing the curve of her neck in open affection. “Because even Psy know you’re a soft touch.”

The other woman’s scowl disappeared and she turned to steal a proper kiss from her mate. “Why do I put up with you?”

Nate murmured something so low that Brenna couldn’t hear. Looking away from their easy intimacy, an intimacy which held hints of the deepest sensuality and love, she found Judd watching the pair. He glanced at her only after Tamsyn broke from Nate to walk toward the cooler. Dark chocolate eyes met hers. “That’s what you should have.”

His candor shook her . . . because it meant he’d accepted this thing between them, this beautiful, powerful thing. “Yeah? Well, maybe I want you instead.” She didn’t care that their relationship didn’t fit into any established box, didn’t care that her wolf didn’t recognize him as her mate. “Just you.”

“I made lasagna for dinner,” Tamsyn called out. “That work for you?”

He continued to look at her, as if he’d drink her up with his eyes. “Anything is fine.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t waste my lasagna on you, then.” Tamsyn grabbed a container from the cooling unit. “How about some cardboard instead?”

Brenna found herself amused in spite of the blood that continued to scent the air and the taut expectation that stretched between her and Judd. Lips twitching, she waited for his response.

“Cardboard has no nutritional value.” Utterly toneless. “Lasagna would be a better choice.”

Tamsyn threw up her hands. “I’d forgotten how bad you lot could be. Then again, Sascha was never as bad as you.”