MINE TO POSSESS

“Yeah,” he finished for her. “She doesn’t smell sick. Luc?”


Lucas’s facial markings became more defined as he frowned in thought. “You’re right. I smelled it that first night we met, but nothing set off my beast today.”

Talin stood frozen in the circle of Clay’s arms, trying not to hope. If she didn’t hope, the disappointment wouldn’t tear her to pieces. But she failed. “Can you check that?”

“I don’t know,” Sascha said. “I can’t get into your mind, but I’ll try on the Web of Stars—that’s the network that connects all the sentinels and their mates to Lucas. I’m contacting Faith, too. She’s not as good with the Web yet, but she’s had a lot of experience looking for hidden patterns.” Closing her eyes, she seemed to melt into Lucas, her bare arms wrapping around the alpha from behind.

Talin turned and half buried her face in Clay’s chest. “It can’t be true. My Psy DNA is a joke. Three percent, remember?”

“Shine was unable to track down your father,” he said, confusing her for a second, “but what if both your parents were long-removed descendants of the Forgotten? What if they each carried a single dormant gene that came together in you? Maybe that gene is the three percent.”

“A million-to-one chance.”

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Silence has been around for just over a hundred years. Before that, anything went. A lot of humans and changelings had Psy relatives pre-Silence—the pool for dormant genes is wider than the descendants of the Forgotten.”

“But the specialists,” she said, playing devil’s advocate because she wanted this too much, “they did genetic tests, found no markers.”

“Because they weren’t looking for the right thing,” he said, not budging. “Remember what Santos said about a kid’s family thinking he was full human, so no one looked for a Psy cause?”

He was fighting for her, fighting so damn hard. “I love you,” she whispered.

He stroked his hand down her back. “Yep, you do.”

“You’re supposed to say it back,” she said, pretending to be offended because the silliness kept the fear/hope at bay.

“Why?” He scowled down at her. “You know you’re my heartbeat.”

The blunt words cut her off at the knees. Reaching up, she kissed him, uncaring that the other couple might be watching. But when they parted, she glanced at the screen to find Sascha’s eyes still closed and Lucas focusing on her. “I wonder what she sees.”

“Faith told me once—our minds are like stars, each one connected ultimately to Lucas. That’s why Sascha calls it a web.”

“And I’m in there because of my bond with you.” It gave her a sense of peace to say that. “I’m glad we’re mated,” she said, speaking the truth for the first time. “I know that’s selfish, but I’m glad.”

“Good, because there’s no getting out.”

It was at that moment that Sascha’s eyes flicked open. Talin was startled to see the blackness cascading with color. The wonder of it astonished her, made her want to reach out and touch the screen in delight.

But what Sascha had to say eclipsed even those magnificent eyes. “Clay was right.”

Her knees would have collapsed had Clay not been holding her upright. “What?” she croaked out. “Did you see something?”

“It was hard,” Sascha said, her smile growing so wide it was in danger of cracking her face. “Your mind is different—we thought it was because you were human, and we were mostly right, but our preconception kept us from seeing the whole truth. You don’t suck in the biofeedback the same way a Psy does. The flows aren’t obvious. It’s like”—she paused her rapid-fire explanation—“like you need a misty rain, while we need a downpour. Do you see?”

Talin was so dazed, she had trouble formulating speech. “Not enough to die immediately without, but not quite right unless I have it?”

“Yes!” Sascha’s expression glowed with excitement. “What we saw around you is a slight, very slight, draw on the biofeedback. Your brain is taking in what it needs through your link to Clay and therefore to the Web.” Her eyes sharpened. “Are you feeling much better?”

She didn’t have to consider the question. “Yes. I can think so clearly. Ever since—” Blood rushed out of her face. “Clay’s headache.”

“That explains it,” Sascha said, smile not dimming. “There had to be a strong draw at some point, because, if we go by your symptoms, your brain was well into starvation mode. I didn’t notice a shift in the Web that would have alerted me to the truth, but that’s because you took it directly from Clay.”

Terror spread through Talin’s veins. “Did I hurt him?”

“No, no, it’s like a blood donation,” Sascha assured her. “If you’d been taking in that much constantly, it would have hurt him.”