MINE TO POSSESS

“It’s all right, Clay,” she began, mollified by his support.

His hand closed around her nape, hard and inflexible. “She stays. Talk around it.”

There was a taut moment when the two men stared at each other, then Sascha whispered something very low to Lucas and the alpha seemed to relax his stance. “Fine.”

Clay gave a short nod, glad that Lucas had understood. If he hadn’t, they would’ve had a serious problem. Clay wasn’t a sentinel because he bowed down to his alpha’s every word. He was a sentinel because he could fight back and draw blood. And for Tally, he’d do a lot worse. “Sascha?”

“We know of a small net,” Sascha said, referring, Clay knew, to the Laurens, the family of defectors who had found unlikely sanctuary with the SnowDancers. “That net is strained. I’d say their number is at the outer limit of what’s safe. And it’s more than two.”

Talin’s hand clenched on his thigh. He wondered if she realized she’d put it there when the first signs of aggression had entered the room. The desire it sparked aggravated the hell out of him but the leopard was pleased she saw him as a point of safety. He eased his hold on her nape, though she didn’t seem to mind the possessive gesture.

She gave him a small smile before returning her attention to the others. The utter rightness of it cut him off at the knees, made him want to wipe away the past and make her his. Only his. It was what she should have always been. “If we carry our theory through,” she said, “it means that Shine is tracking down children with a Psy bloodline, more specifically descendants of those Psy who defected from the Net because of Silence.”

Her eyes widened. Letting go of him, she scrabbled through the files. “These numbers—I couldn’t figure out what they meant. But if you look at Jon as a descendant with a lot of Psy blood, it makes sense. He’s labeled as .45.”

“Forty-five percent Psy?” Sascha nodded. “What about—”

Talin had already found the numbers for the other abducted kids. “Forty, thirty-six, thirty-nine—nothing lower than thirty-five percent.” Her fingers touched the edge of the extra file Dev had sent through. She’d figured it to be a mistake. “And here’s mine.”

“You Psy, Tally?” Clay lips lifted up in amusement.

“Hardly. Look.” She showed him the percentage marker next to her name, her sudden fear shifting into scowling outrage. “Point zero three! Three percent! It’s a joke!” Though her minuscule Psy blood might explain her “feelings.” More likely, she snorted inwardly, they were the result of plain old human intuition. “Makes me wonder why Shine took me on in the first place.”

Clay’s amusement turned into disbelief. “That low? What about your memory?”

“According to this, my maternal grandfather had an eidetic memory. And he was a hundred percent human.” Her heart quieted. “We humans aren’t without our gifts.”

“I know that.” Clay slid her hair through his fist. “Maybe we’re not giving Shine enough credit. Could be they take on mostly human children, too. After all, a lot of the renegade Psy had to have married humans, so they can’t think of themselves as Psy.”

“I think you might be right. There’s another consideration.” She stared at the documents in front of her. “Some of the Shine kids are too gifted to worry about mundane things like files and organization. We worker-bee types pick up the slack—could be one more reason for seeking out the mostly human descendants.”

Sascha gave her an odd look. “You know, I’ve heard other humans refer to themselves as the worker bees of the world. But I don’t—” She shook her head. “We’ll discuss that later.”

Talin nodded. “We need to talk to Dev now.”

“Probably go better if you do it alone. We’ll wait in my office,” Lucas said.

Talin waited until the mated pair had left before getting up and walking to the computer screen. Touching a key, she activated the comm function.

Clay went to stand behind her and when she leaned back into him, he felt something tight in him ease. “Call him.”

Putting one hand over the arm he’d wrapped around her middle, she entered the private code Dev had sent with the files. “Clay, if we’re right, it means I’m part Psy.”

“You smell human. You taste human.” He nipped at her ear. “And you have the heart of a human. Don’t worry—hell, I’m pretty sure even Luc has more than three percent Psy blood.”

“How did you know I was worrying?”

Because he understood her with a part of him he couldn’t explain. “You’re transparent.” Putting his hands on her hips, he nudged her attention forward as the screen cleared to show Devraj Santos.

Deep grooves bracketed the other man’s mouth. “You’ve read the files.”