CARESSED BY ICE

She went. Sometimes, discretion really was the better part of valor. Dropping the slip and pulling on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt took maybe two minutes. She ran back out. “Oh!”


Judd had turned on the light and already cleaned up most of the mess using his telekinetic abilities. As she watched, the last broken pieces settled down into a neat pile by the door. “I’ll replace everything.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Walking over, she fought the urge to touch him. He was all coiled muscle and intensity. Dark. Dangerous.

Take him as he is.

Her spine straightened. “Now tell me what happened.”

His tone was flat as he told her about the PineWood pack. “We went in, cleaned out their den. A number of them were compromised—I had to undo the programming.”

Relieved he hadn’t been forced into using his more covert skills, she blew out a breath. “There’s no need for you to beat yourself up about that. You did something good.”

“It’s not that.” A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and she remembered the pain. The dissonance. But before she could speak, he told her the rest. “What our contact didn’t know was that the Psy had attempted to place commands on immature minds, too.”

“Children?” Her voice shook. “They tried to do that to babies?” She wanted to bury her head in the sand and not hear the rest of what he had to say—she’d almost died after having her mind raped. And children were so much weaker. “How many?”

“One died before we reached their den.” His cheekbones stood out like blades against his skin. “I was able to remove the programming on the others but two are damaged. Their brains couldn’t handle the pressure and battered themselves bloody trying to get out.”

“Oh, Judd.” She could feel his hurt inside herself. “There was nothing you could have done.”

Another bead of sweat, the only indicator of the amount of pain he had to be in. “There was no reason for them to mess with the children’s minds. No reason. They were too young and weak to provide assistance in the plot. It was done as a message.”

The most visceral kind of fury exploded in her. “They’ve crossed the line. But”—she stared him in the eye—“you haven’t.”

“I know.”

Startled, she snapped her mouth shut. “Then why . . . ?” She waved her arms at the ruin of her living room and kitchen.

“Don’t you recognize rage when you see it?”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that blunt admission. “You’ve broken Silence?” Something in her said it couldn’t be that easy.

His next words proved it. “If I had, you wouldn’t have been able to bring me back.” His eyes traced over her body and though she was demurely covered, she felt her nipples peak, her thighs press together. “I can still taste you on my lips.”

She put a hand on the wall to steady herself, certain her knees were about to buckle. “You pushed your anger into sex.” Burning it up without causing harm to living creatures.

“It wasn’t planned.” He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her lips. “I was about to leave your home when you walked out. I should have never come here in the first place.”

“I didn’t mind.” Heat in the air, so thick she could almost touch it. Her eyes dropped to his erection, hard and heavy against his jeans. She wanted to feel him in her hands, to experience more of the animal passion he’d shown her tonight.

Something smashed to the floor, jolting her out of the erotic fantasy. Her eyes widened as she realized he’d thumped the armchair—one of the few undamaged pieces of furniture in the room—hard onto the floor.

“I need to leave.” He pulled out a phone, skin stretched tight over his features.

It made her wonder if he was as tightly stretched in other places.

“Brenna.”

“Why not?” She met his gaze. Stubborn. Needy. Changeling to his Psy. “I don’t care if you destroy the whole apartment.”

His hand clenched on the slim width of the phone. “As the state of this room shows, I’m no longer listening to the dissonance. It’s not keeping me in check. All it would take to kill you would be one mistake in the heat of passion. One.”

The taut restraint in his voice cut her. “Judd, I need you.” They had to find a way past this. She was so hungry she was almost to the point where she wanted to cry. “I need your touch and I need to touch you in return.”

A crack appeared in the casing of the phone in his hand. “Where’s your comm console? I’ll call someone to stand watch—you’re not safe from Timothy’s assailant.”

“No.” She thrust a hand through her hair, fingers shaking with need such as she’d never before felt. Yes, changelings craved touch. But this was something so primal it was a claw inside of her. “I’m awake. I’ll stay that way. I’ll call you if anything happens.”