SLAVE TO SENSATION

“My mind isn’t built like yours—it needs to be fed by the electronic impulses of other Psy minds.” She clenched her hands on his T-shirt.

The panther understood at the same moment as the man. “So once you expose yourself as bait and the Councilors pick up on your empathy, there’s no way to get you out?” He was so furious he could barely speak.





CHAPTER 22





“There never was any way to get me out,” she told him. “My shields are about to collapse. My plan won’t change that future, it’ll just speed up the process.” When he remained silent, she tugged at the material under her hands. “I have to do this. I have to try to save Brenna.” Her voice broke. “Let me die proud.”

His entire body rejected the idea of her dying to save another. That other woman was only a name, an image. This was Sascha Duncan, his mate. “No.”

Sascha jerked at the flatness of that sound. Lucas didn’t even sound like he was considering it. “I’ll never forgive myself if I let Brenna die.”

“I don’t care.” Complete implacability.

“Hawke will come after you.”

“No, he won’t.” His eyes were going panther. “Wolves mate for life, too. He knows I can’t sacrifice you for his packmate. She matters nothing to me.” The eyes looking out at her were no longer human.

She tried to wrench herself from his embrace but he wouldn’t let her go. “You don’t have the right to decide this.”

“I have all sorts of rights over you.”

“My mother, Lucas! My mother is hiding a killer. How do you think that makes me feel?” Shame was her constant companion.

“Nikita merely gave you half your genes,” he retorted. “How has she ever been a mother to you? Don’t punish yourself for her. She won’t care.”

Her head snapped at the blow. “I care.”

“I care, too. About you.”

So it went. They fought for most of the night. Sascha was tempted to put her plan into effect without his agreement. However, she knew it would be a senseless waste—there remained the need for a diversion.

A physical distraction could theoretically work if it was large scale, drawing the attention of the minds in San Francisco and the outlying areas. If DarkRiver and the SnowDancers worked together, they could create a multitude of events that coincided and confused.

Since the killer had to be nearby, given his habit of returning victims to a place they knew, it would probably be enough. The PsyNet was huge and endless but the physical location of a Psy did play a part in how quickly he or she could surf to another mind. It had to do with connections . . . links.

She was convinced their murderous prey would be compelled to come for her, bait that tantalized his savage needs and was available within such easy reach. All she needed was one glimpse. With her empathic gifts, she should be able to detect the ugliness of his rage almost immediately.

Her plan could work. Unfortunately, she needed the changelings to cooperate for it to do so. But Lucas wasn’t budging. Without his agreement, she knew no one would help her. Even the wolves would stand back, though it was their packmate’s life on the line.

She fought her panther with every ounce of will she had.

And she failed.





Well before dawn the next morning, Hawke rang to say the SnowDancers could provide the needed distraction.

“How?” Lucas asked, not really caring. As long as Sascha had to die for the plan to succeed, it wasn’t going ahead. Right now he couldn’t think about what else she’d revealed—My shields are about to collapse. He’d allow nothing to speed up the process, not until they’d worked out a way to protect her from the Council.

A small pause. “I think you’d better come over. Bring your Psy with you.”

Lucas knew exactly where Hawke’s den was. Just as he knew it was guarded around the clock by wolves who wouldn’t hesitate to go for his throat. “Free passage,” he reminded Hawke.

“Don’t insult me, cat. I don’t break my vows. Be here as soon as you can—the pack is getting restless. If we aren’t going to move on the PsyNet, I’m going to give the order to take down all the high-ranking Psy we can.

“We’ve already got people in place near the residences of every one of the Councilors, no matter where they happen to live. Somebody will talk if you make enough of them bleed.” He hung up.

“What did Hawke have to say?” a sleepy voice asked.

Lucas turned to find Sascha sitting up in bed behind him. He wanted to lie, to protect, but they’d gone beyond that. “He says he can provide a diversion.”

Sascha frowned. “That’s the weakest part of the plan,” she muttered. “With a physical distraction, there’s always the chance that it might not take away enough Psy minds to give the killer a head start. I wonder what Hawke’s going to suggest.”

He wanted to shake her. The weakest part of the plan was the one her life hinged on. “Get dressed. We’re going to Hawke’s place.”