Hostage to Pleasure

“I know you want blood, Dorian,” Lucas said. “But there’s a problem.”


Dorian respected the hell out of Lucas but the leopard wasn’t just going to let this go. Neither was the man. “What?”

“We don’t know who ordered the hit.” Lucas held up a hand before anyone could interrupt. “Vaughn, you take it.”

“I spoke to Anthony,” the jaguar said. “He says there’s dissension in the Council ranks. Ashaya was only supposed to be killed if all attempts to recapture her failed.”

Dorian swore, low and hard. “It had to have been a Councilor. No one else would’ve had access to a Tk who could teleport.”

“Anthony agrees, but he can’t pin it down.” Vaughn’s face was full of the same cold rage as Dorian’s. “Some of the Councilors are suggesting it was actually a vigilante pro-Silence group. They call themselves Pure Psy.”

“Convenient.”

“Yeah.” Vaughn folded his arms. “But it leaves us with no clear target.”

Breathing past the black chill of the sniper’s fury, Dorian forced himself to think. “What’s to stop them from trying again?” His need to protect Ashaya was a craving that ate away at him night and day. “She’s so high profile, she’s an easy target.”

“Eamon got you being shot on tape,” Clay said into the quiet. “He didn’t drop the camera until after the blood started spraying.”

“Gee, thanks for the reminder.” Dorian scowled at the other man.

Mercy threw a cushion at him. “You’re an idiot, Blondie. Clay’s saying maybe the Council shot itself in the foot this time.”

“No, they shot me,” Dorian said, but he was thinking. “How much did Eamon get?”

“Full back view of the shooter, you taking the hit for Ashaya. It was a live feed—it’s already out there.” Clay shrugged. “You could stalk them, and maybe get yourself killed in the process, or you could sit back and let them implode.”

“You’re asking me to be fucking rational,” Dorian muttered. “I haven’t been rational in a long time.”

Cool blue ice over his soul, passion and heart, gentle hands and sweet lips.

Shaya.

His mate. Safe and sound. And rational enough to anchor his more volatile personality. “Fine, push the feed again and again,” he said. “Let’s see how the bastards spin this.” Psy were emotionless but they weren’t stupid. “Get enough copies out there and someone will upload it to the PsyNet.”

“Probably already done,” Nate said from his position on the floor. “We’ll have to wait and see which tack the Council decides to take. Could be it finally makes Ashaya too hot to hit, or . . .”

“Or could be they try to destroy the root of the problem.”

“In which case,” Lucas said quietly, “we’ll all go hunting with you.”

Dorian looked at his alpha and felt his leopard settle a fraction. He knew the promise would be kept. “Any other business?” he said, telling them the vicious edge of blood hunger had passed. Whether the calm would last was another question. He’d never been particularly good at letting things go.

“The humans,” Clay said. “The ones that were sniffing around after Ashaya? The Rats thought they might have a base in the Tenderloin, but there’s been no movement for days.”

“Probably scared off by the shooting,” Nate said. “Humans don’t like to get in the middle of Psy-Changeling turf wars.”

Dorian agreed. “We’ll need to stay on alert, but there’s very little chance of a human getting close enough to Shaya to do any damage. They don’t have the physical senses to beat us on our own territory.” Unaware of air currents and scents, humans gave themselves away the same as Psy.

“I’m going to tell Tally you said that.” Clay smirked. “Your ass is toast.”

“Nah.” Dorian grinned. “Shaya will protect me.”

Everyone laughed and the discussion turned to other matters.

“Aaron,” Lucas said to Dorian. “I’m taking your advice, shifting him out of Chinatown. We need a replacement.”

“Mia.” Vaughn suggested. “She can fit in anywhere, and she looks about as threatening as a gnat.”

“Fine,” Lucas agreed. “Mercy—how’s Cory?”

“Good. I think it’s time he and Kit both got bumped up officially out of juvenile status.”

“Nico, too,” Clay said. “The other kids still have some work to do.”

Several minutes of discussion followed as they considered the pros and cons. With changelings, adulthood wasn’t a right. It was a privilege earned through hard work and maturity. With Kit carrying the scent of a future alpha, they had to be even more careful—young alphas could easily go off the rails.

But this time, they were all in agreement. Kit, Cory, and Nico had grown up a lot in the past year. All three would now carry the rank of novice soldier. Being a soldier wasn’t about war. It was about protecting the pack. And about standing by your own.

In blood . . . and in joy.





CHAPTER 49