MINE TO POSSESS

“I’ll ask,” Teijan finally said. “You swear that if we ally ourselves with you, our home is safe?”


“Hell, Teijan, these tunnels are shot with cracks—but we won’t do anything to push you out.” The alliance would establish hierarchy once and for all, allowing coexistence. Without that agreement, once the grace period ran out, the Rats were dead. No arguments. No second chances. A harsh law, but it kept peace in the volatile world of predatory changelings.

The only reason the Rats weren’t already dead was that Lucas had better control over the blood hunger of his beast than most alphas and he thought decades in advance—ten years ago, when DarkRiver had first begun flexing its muscle, he’d seen potential in the odd dwellers of Down Below.

“The tunnels are sound.” Teijan’s pride was in his voice. “We keep them repaired.”

“Then you’ll be fine. We don’t want to move in.”

A pause, then, “Something’s happening. We’re everywhere under the city—basements, garages, tunnels, house foundations—and there are times when we hear whispers we shouldn’t be hearing.”

Like Clay had thought—Lucas was fucking smart. “Any details?”

“An assassination. Psy target,” he added when Clay went leopard-still. “Definitely one of them. Someone high up. I can’t tell you who’s planning the hit but things are shakier with that cold-blooded lot than it looks like from the outside.”

“Anything we need to worry about?” The information Teijan had already provided was critical. If the Psy were getting closer to implosion, DarkRiver and SnowDancer both needed to know, to prepare, because like it or not, the psychic race occupied a vital spot in the world’s ecosystem. “You get names?”

“They mentioned an Anthony Kyriakus,” he threw out. “Never heard of him. Must be one of them.”

Clay snapped to attention. “You’re sure?” Anthony was Faith’s father and the possible leader of a quiet revolution against the Psy Council. Aside from Faith and Vaughn, only the sentinels and DarkRiver’s alpha pair knew that deadly secret.

“Yes. But I don’t know if he was the target.” His eyes flicked to the photo in his hand. “There’s something about this boy—he’s different. I’ll see what I can find out.” He was gone in a dark flash.

Retracing his steps, Clay pulled himself out of the manhole before using his cell phone to make a call to Vaughn. “Tell Faith to warn her father.”

“I have a feeling even if he is the target, it’s Anthony who’ll come out alive,” Vaughn drawled. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

“If you see him, try and get a feel for the general weather in the PsyNet.”

“Last time we spoke, he said the storm winds are building. This other rebel—the Ghost—he’s done some serious damage in the past few months.” The sound of metal against stone, as if Vaughn was continuing to sculpt as they talked. “So what’s this I hear about you?”

“What?”

“You’ve shacked up with a woman?”

Clay scowled. “None of your damn business.”

“Tell that to Faith—she’s got a thing for you.” Sheer amusement in the jaguar’s tone. “She thinks you need a protector. I told her you need one about as much as a pit bull needs one.”

“Thanks.” He meant that. Talin, regardless of what she said, was damn possessive where he was concerned. She would not react well to another woman’s interference.

Ending the call, Clay made his way to DarkRiver’s business HQ, located in a medium-sized office building near Chinatown. Lucas was meant to be there today—he had a meeting with the heads of a human corporation. Clay, as construction supervisor on the project, had originally been scheduled to attend.

Ria, Lucas’s executive assistant, was working at her desk when Clay entered the outer part of Lucas’s office.

“He free?”

She smiled. “The meeting wrapped up a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks.” He entered after a quick knock, knowing Lucas would have already caught his scent.

The other man was sitting on one of the black leather-synth sofas he kept for clients. “Grab a seat while I finish this sandwich.”

Clay collapsed into the opposing seat but couldn’t relax, his mind on Talin and what it would do to her if they didn’t find this boy in time.

“Here.” Lucas threw him an apple.

Catching it by reflex, he bit into it. “It’s like this kid disappeared into thin air.” Clay was one of the most patient hunters in the pack, but today, he felt dangerously on edge.

“What have you got so far?” Sandwich finished, Lucas picked up a bottle of water.

Clay laid out the facts, then glanced toward the doorway. “Nate’s here.”

There was a perfunctory knock before the other sentinel walked in. His eyes lit up at the sight of food. “I’m starving. Couldn’t find anything I liked out there.”

“That’s because you’re used to Tammy’s cooking.” Lucas pushed the plate of sandwiches in his direction.