MINE TO POSSESS

She recognized both names. Lucas Hunter was DarkRiver’s alpha, Sascha Duncan the daughter of Councilor Nikita Duncan. Talin had heard reports of Sascha’s defection from the Psy, but hadn’t credited them. “Nice to meet you,” she said at last, very aware that neither Sascha nor Lucas had made any overtures of friendliness.

Clay shifted to lay his hand against her spine. She went stiff without meaning to and knew everyone had noticed. But he didn’t drop his hand, and for that, she was grateful. It was obvious his packmates didn’t approve of her. Usually she would’ve shrugged off their reaction, but this time it mattered. Because these people were important to Clay.

“Talin’s been told she’s sick,” he said to Sascha. “Can you check her out?”

Sascha’s eyes widened. It disconcerted Talin to see such open emotion on the face of a Psy, but not as much as when Sascha spoke and she heard the warmth and affection in it. “Clay, I’m not an M-Psy. I’m not sure—”

“Try.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “She gets mean when you give her orders.” Though his tone was amused, his eyes never moved off Talin.

She leaned more heavily into Clay’s hand.

“Please.”

Talin was still trying to swallow her shock at the word that had come out of Clay’s mouth when Sascha stepped out of her mate’s embrace. “Out. Both of you,” she said, imperious and clearly sure of her power. “I need to be alone with Talin.”

Lucas dropped a kiss in the curve of his mate’s neck, the action speaking of an intimacy that ran deep and true. Talin wondered what Clay’s lips would feel like against her own neck. She swallowed, inner muscles clenching. That was when Lucas raised his head, breaking the spell. “Come on,” he said to Clay. “I have to talk to you about something anyway.”

Clay scowled down at Talin before leaving. “Cooperate.”

“I take it you didn’t agree to let a strange Psy poke and prod at you?” Sascha’s tone was wry, but Talin didn’t drop her guard. This woman had no loyalty to her.

“No.”

“Would you like to tell me what he’s worried about?”

Since Clay already knew, she saw no harm in sharing the information. “An unknown disease is messing things up, maybe killing off cells, in my brain. I’ve had the diagnosis, such as it is, confirmed three times over.”

The cardinal’s face grew pensive. “Will you allow me to see if I can help?”

“He trusts you.” Another flood of jealousy. It made her feel small, petty, but she couldn’t stop it—she had never been rational where Clay was concerned. “You’re Pack.”


Sascha sensed Talin’s ambivalence, understood it. “Yes.” Clay was a leopard who chose the shadows even in the tight circle of the sentinels, but when it came down to it, they were tied together by a bond of deep, unflinching loyalty. “Yes,” she repeated.

The curvy brunette across from her bowed her head in a wary nod. “All right.”

But try as she might, Sascha found she could do less than nothing. “You have a shield.”

“What?” Talin frowned. “But I’m human.”

“True.” The lack of anything beyond the most basic shields was what made humans the weakest of the three races. That in mind, Sascha tried another push. “But not only do you have shields,” she said after being violently rebuffed, “they’re airtight.”

“I have no idea why that would be.”

Sascha raised her hand. “If you don’t mind …” The other woman didn’t pull away when Sascha went to touch her cheek. Often with changelings, contact made all the difference. But not with Talin. Breaking the connection, Sascha stepped back, her instincts telling her Talin didn’t like people too close. Yet it appeared she had already given Clay skin privileges. Intriguing.

“I’m no expert on human mental processes,” she said, “but your shields are, without a doubt, unusual. For some reason, your mind has learned to protect itself.” Her heart tripped a beat as her own words penetrated. She had heard of these kinds of shields before. They had been noted in an addendum to an old Psy-Med Journal article.

Conclusion: Low incidence in human population. No genetic components.

The latter finding was probably why the Council hadn’t gone about eliminating the bearers of such shields. That and the fact that regardless of what the Psy did or didn’t do, these particular shields would always occur in a certain percentage of the human population. “The shields,” she continued, keeping 74her tone very gentle, “are so strong, you must’ve begun constructing them during childhood.”

“Why—” Talin froze.

Sascha could no more ignore the waves of emotion coming off her than she could stop breathing. Being an E-Psy meant she had the capacity to sense and neutralize hurtful emotion. It also meant she couldn’t just stand by when someone was in that much pain. Now she gathered up Talin’s self-hatred, revulsion, and anger—such incredible anger—in her psychic arms and absorbed it inside of herself. She had the gift to turn those destructive emotions harmless, but it hurt.