VISIONS OF HEAT

“And be careful what you say,” Vaughn whispered in her ear, his arm coming in front and around her shoulders to pull her against him.

This time, she struggled. “I can’t process that much touch.” It was a blunt statement. “You should let go unless you want me to have a seizure.” Touch set off her senses and she couldn’t handle the overload. It was something the M-Psy had warned her about repeatedly. After seeing images of other F-Psy going through the same thing, she had no desire to do so herself.

“Vaughn, she can hardly attack me with both you and Lucas here.” Sascha Duncan looked at the man who was threatening Faith on a level she’d never before experienced, and had no idea how to deal with. “I’ll let you know if she makes any moves on the psychic plane.”

Vaughn’s arm slid away after a slight hesitation. But she could still feel him at her back. The urge to turn around and see his face was so powerful it shook the foundations of her confidence in her ability to survive the outside world. Already, it was influencing her, making her act in ways that she couldn’t afford to, not if she were to remain sane.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Faith noticed the way Sascha placed her hand on the shoulder of the DarkRiver male called Lucas. It was shocking to her. Her skin tingled from where Vaughn had held her—she couldn’t understand how Sascha bore the overwhelming influx of sensory input. But that thought was hardly relevant to her situation.

“I heard that you were no longer part of the PsyNet,” she began.

“That’s correct.”

“I need some information.”

“What kind of information?”

Faith glanced at the man in front of her, but suddenly realized it was Vaughn who was the more dangerous. Sascha was connected to Lucas so the alpha had to have some sense of civility. But the jaguar whose human face remained a mystery? He was nothing but pure wild animal. “Could we discuss this alone?” She sent out a telepathic feeler, a polite request for mental contact.

“Stop.” Even as Lucas moved to block Faith’s view of Sascha, Vaughn stepped close enough that the heat of him threatened to sear her through her clothing. “You don’t have mind privileges with Sascha.”

She held herself immobile. How had the changeling known what she was doing? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any rudeness.” Telepathic communication was de rigueur among her race. And living as she did, she’d already conversed aloud more tonight than she had in the past week.

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of us or not at all,” Lucas stated.

Sascha managed to get the alpha to move enough that she could look at Faith. “He’s my mate and Vaughn is Pack.”

The renegade cardinal’s loyalties couldn’t have been clearer. Nothing Faith had learned on the PsyNet had prepared her for this . . . or for the considerable power in Sascha Duncan. Whatever she was, she was no flawed cardinal who couldn’t hold on to the Net link. Faith would bet her life on that and perhaps she was going to have to. “If this gets back to the Council, they’ll imprison me completely.” And then they’d use her. Use her until she was empty of everything but madness.

“Not sentence you to rehabilitation?” A silky whisper against her ear.

“No. I’m too valuable.”

Vaughn was startled by the complete lack of conceit or pride in that pronouncement. Faith spoke of herself as if she were talking about a machine or an investment. He looked down at the top of her head and wondered at the mind within. Was she as inhuman as she sounded, as cold? His instincts said otherwise—they saw her as something more, something intriguing.

“We don’t tattle to the Council,” Lucas spit out. “Now talk or leave.”

“I think my ability is mutating.” Cool, clear, haunting, her voice wasn’t quite right. Wasn’t quite . . . complete. “I’m seeing things. Disturbing, violent things.”

“Are the visions about specific events?” Sascha leaned against Lucas.

“Until two days ago, I thought not.” Faith shifted a subtle inch.

Vaughn knew she was attempting to increase the distance separating them, but he didn’t want that. He moved with her and felt her spine stiffen. But she didn’t say anything to him, concentrating on answering Sascha’s question.

“The relevant dreams and visions have a recurring motif of suffocation until death.” Her voice remained unshaken by the horror of what it was she was describing. “Then two nights ago, I was told that my sibling, Marine, had become a victim of murder by manual strangulation.”

Vaughn felt Sascha’s empathy reach out to Faith but it seemed to have no effect. It was as if Faith NightStar were encased in a shell so hard, nothing could get in . . . or out.

“Why come to me?” Sascha finally pushed around her unhappy mate to stand face-to-face with Vaughn’s Psy.