CARESSED BY ICE

Many of the DawnSky children were close to catatonic. Several had seen their parents being torn up. One young boy had been trapped under the body of his dying mother; another had tried to protect his siblings, only to get his chest carved open. He’d survived, his mind strong. Others . . . others were broken. The healing process was going to be a long one, but Judd had pledged himself to it.

That thought in mind, he headed to his room to wash up before going to Brenna. Not seeing her wasn’t an option. He made it to her apartment a few minutes after nine. But when he entered her quarters—she’d keyed him in—he found not Brenna, but a note pinned to the new kitchen bench she had put together using a thick plank and precise towers of synthetic bricks. Smart.

The note was short and very Brenna. Left before dawn to go use my other degree. Have bodyguards so don’t worry. Be back when the work’s done. Get some sleep. Bren.

Putting the piece of paper in his pocket, he called through to DarkRiver HQ to confirm. It was Clay who answered. “She’s in the basement with Dorian. Andrew’s with her. Riley’s gone to keep watch on the healers doing the physical nursing.”

So much for the siblings keeping their distance from each other. Given their closeness, he’d known it would be difficult. “Thanks.” Hanging up, he used telekinesis to get rid of the debris by the door, teleporting it discreetly into one of the large recyclers kept in a corner of the underground garage.

That done, he decided to bow to Brenna’s order and catch some sleep. The less sleep he had, the worse his mental degradation would get. But he’d only been asleep for three hours when he woke. Something was wrong. Parts of his brain he’d never seen active were sparking in awareness. And those sparks tasted like Brenna . . . and terror.

He called Clay. “Where is she?”

“She left close to two hours ago. She was riding with her brothers.”

Two hours wasn’t enough time to return to the den unless they’d floored the accelerator. “Why did they leave?”

“Something about an urgent call. Everything okay?”

“Yes.” He hung up, still convinced something was wrong. If the call had been urgent enough to pull Brenna away from something so important, they would have pushed their vehicle to the limit and arrived by now. He tried to call Brenna’s cell phone, but no one picked up.

Get outside the walls.

It was a command from that newly awakened section of his brain. He listened. The second he exited the den, those firing sparks turned into a firestorm. It was as though he could feel Brenna screaming. Shutting down everything else, he concentrated on following that odd psychic echo. The instant he had a link—an inexplicable link—he began running. He found them twenty minutes from the den, no car in sight.

Road likely blocked in some way they couldn’t clear. Forced them to proceed on foot. Ambush.

Cool Arrow calculations in a dark corner of his mind as he took in the scene: Andrew lay on the ground, Riley and Brenna on their knees on either side of him. It was immediately clear that the fallen SnowDancer wasn’t breathing. His pulse was also absent when Judd placed his fingers against the other man’s throat—not surprising, given the size of the hole in his chest.

Brenna shook, looking to him with eyes gone wild with grief. “Judd.” The clothing on the right side of her body was dirtied with muddy slush, her face slightly scratched.

Standing, Brenna’s head reached just over Andrew’s heart. Putting together the visible facts—Andrew’s wound, the dirt on her—Judd reconstructed the scene in milliseconds. The bullet had been aimed for Brenna’s head. Andrew had sensed danger at the last moment and shoved aside his sister. He’d saved her life, but hadn’t been fast enough to dodge the bullet himself.

He saw Riley doing CPR and knew that that wouldn’t be enough. Andrew’s heart was obviously shattered, the sniper’s bullet having hit it at the exact spot to cause maximum damage. He couldn’t feel an exit wound, which meant the bullet had to be lodged within the mangled flesh. Judd touched Brenna’s cheek in a fleeting caress, his mind going at a hundred miles an hour. “Stop, Riley.”

Riley raised a face strained white. “We have to keep going.”

Judd put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “His heart is damaged. I need to fix it.” He had never done anything like this, never even considered that he could. His job was to stop hearts, not repair them. But he knew the finest details of how the organ functioned—to destroy you had to know how things worked. “Breathe for him but don’t touch his heart.”

Riley didn’t argue. “Do it.”