Tangle of Need

“It’s not that bad yet,” Riley replied. “Cats are keeping an eye on the situation—there are enough apartments in the general area for the time being. The Psy coming in are staying clear of den territory and DarkRiver’s territorial borders.”


Coop, who’d touched base with Riaz just yesterday, the two of them bullshitting over the comm, had nothing to report. Neither did Matthias, but Alexei was sporting an impressive black eye and a scowl. However, all he said was, “All quiet here.”

“No way, Sexy Lexie,” Tomás said, earning a deadly look, “fess up. Where did you get that shiner?”

“Dominance challenge.”

Hawke’s hands dropped, the legs of his chair slamming to the ground as his expression grew dark. “Another one?”

“Don’t worry—I took off the kid gloves.” White grooves bracketed his mouth. “He’s alive … barely. I don’t think anyone else will want to try their luck.”

“Good.” Hawke’s tone was without pity. “We might’ve gained two or three strong soldiers as a result of the challenges, but it’s a waste of your time dealing with them.”

“Did you even put ice on that?” Jem asked, wincing at the damage to Alexei’s face.

The young lieutenant shrugged. “Wasn’t time—I didn’t want to give him a chance to heal up before we delivered him to his pack.”

The message, Riaz thought, his wolf in complete accord, had to be brutal, unmistakable. “I think,” he said, when Riley turned to him and asked for an update on the Human Alliance, “it might be time to revisit the idea of a permanent liaison with them.”

The sound of teeth grinding. Nobody had forgotten or forgiven what Bowen had done the last time he’d been in the area.

Coop was the one who broke the silence. “Riaz is right. The Alliance is too big to simply ignore.”

Hawke shoved a hand through his hair, asked for opinions. Everyone had one, but they finally decided to feel out some kind of a liaison arrangement.

“Can you handle that?” Hawke glanced at Riaz. “You’ve got BlackSea as well.”

“Kenji can take most of the load there,” he said, receiving a nod from the other lieutenant. “And this isn’t a full alliance negotiation.” He caught Judd’s eye. “I might need your input now and then.” The other man had access to the PsyNet, and Riaz knew there were powerful people in the psychic network keeping an eye on the Alliance.

“No problem.”

“The possible civil war inside the Net,” Indigo said to Judd. “Any news on that front?”

“Close to ignition—all it needs is a single match.” A chilling prediction. “I’ve gotten the word out among the Psy in the city. The forewarning may save some of them.”

Some, Riaz thought, not all.

CLOSING the door to her office after completing the day’s session with the kids, Adria wiped her hands on her jeans, took a deep breath, and put through the call. It was answered on the second ring, her mother’s vivid blue eyes filling the computer screen, the honey brown of her hair tumbling over her shoulders—it was Cullan Morgan who had given his daughters the ebony of their hair, but Tarah’s and Adria’s eyes came from Felicity.

“Adria.” Heartfelt smile on her face, her mom reached toward the screen as if to touch Adria, then dropped her hand with a rueful smile. “How are you, my baby girl?”

Adria’s heart clenched at the love that sang in her mother’s every word. She’d kept her distance from her parents for too long, driven by a caustic mix of shame and anger, and her wolf ached to feel the fierceness of her mother’s embrace, the rough affection of her father’s touch. “Good. I went to Venice.”

“Oh, how lovely. I know you always wanted to.” Felicity beamed, glanced over her shoulder. “Cullan, come here! Your pumpkin’s on the comm.”

Adria laughed, knowing that regardless of her age or rank, she’d always be their surprise baby. “Hi, Dad,” she said when her father’s handsome face filled the screen.

“I should spank you, Adria Morgan,” was his growling response, his beard sprinkled liberally with silver. “When are you planning to visit your parents?”

“Soon as I can get three or four days of leave in a row.” Her parents were based in Los Angeles as a result of her mother’s position at the university, her father in charge of SnowDancer’s construction arm in the city. “Riley’s in a very good mood, so I might be able to swing it in the next few weeks.”

“Oh, I heard,” her mother said with a delighted grin. “He’ll make a wonderful father.”

“That he will,” Cullan agreed. “Always had a steady head on his shoulders—even when he was making trouble with Hawke, Cooper, Riaz, and the others when they were younger.”