VISIONS OF HEAT

Her will.


Could she become that inhuman? The slow creep of horror rolled through her veins, tiny claws that ripped and caused biting pain. She didn’t want to think of her people that way, didn’t want to be part of a race that would condone such a thing.

“What are your thoughts on the matter?” Ming LeBon, the Council member who never appeared in any news broadcasts or had his name linked to any high-profile events, a frighteningly dangerous power behind the civilized public facade presented by Henry and Shoshanna Scott.

“I’m young,” she answered. “That may be seen as a vulnerability by certain sectors of the populace.” And she wasn’t equipped with the ruthless ability to kill. The thought of stealing a life, of not only accepting but sanctioning the sick evil of the darkness, nauseated her.

Yet she understood that Vaughn had killed and would do so again in defense of his people, perhaps even in defense of her. But that didn’t fill her with revulsion. Maybe because there was a difference between the brutal but honest law of the wild, and cool, clear-eyed murder to increase the power of the very people most apt to misuse it.

“That’s true. However, your shields are extremely strong. You appear to have the capability to withstand attack.” Tatiana’s comment seemed a substantiation of the rumors. Faith hadn’t felt a thing, but her shields had evidently been tested and deemed adequate. It made her want to shiver—how many people had had their minds picked clean by Tatiana without ever perceiving the violation?

“Your foresight skills will also come in very useful,” Marshall added.

No.

She would not lend her mind to the furtherance of goals meant to keep her people in bondage to a Silence that was false. In that one second, her decision was made. That was when she realized that no other option had ever been truly viable—only her fear of going out into the unknown had made it seem that way.

Now all she had to do was survive the Council.

“While I’m flattered at being considered a candidate, I’m not ready to die.” Not when she’d just learned to live. “I’m well aware that Kaleb Krychek is one of the other candidates. He’s had years in the Council ranks to perfect his skills.” The ability to get rid of competition chief among them.

“I have no wish to be made a target when he’s the Psy you really want. I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I could best him should he decide to guarantee his promotion by removing me from the equation.”

“So you admit you’re weak.” Shoshanna, who’d never been anything but an enemy. Faith’s core mind whispered a knowing down the bond that linked it to her roaming self—the blood had spread on Shoshanna’s hands. The future remained unchanged.

Admitting weakness to the Council was never a good idea. “I’m saying that if you want me to consider joining you, I won’t do so until I’ve come to . . . an understanding with Mr. Krychek.” Let them think she meant to take Kaleb out. Of course, if Shoshanna was backing Kaleb, then he’d be apprised of what she’d said seconds after she left this room, if not sooner.

Survival was going to become a dicey thing if she wasn’t careful. “What I won’t agree to is being used by the Council as a pawn to test Kaleb’s strength. Find another target to pin the bull’s-eye on.”





Her stomach was a knot and her muscles ached, but she’d walked out alive. Faith knew she had very little time. Either Kaleb would get impatient and decide to push his own agenda or the Council would figure out what Faith was doing behind their backs. And what she was doing was hunting a murderer.

She refused to leave Marine’s killer free to take another life. Whoever he was, he was too strong, too mentally powerful. She had to pinpoint him before he figured out a way to circumvent her new protections, protections that held faint, dangerous tendrils of emotion. He might not have tortured her again with his fantasies of death, but it wasn’t for lack of trying—his darkness had been scratching at her mind for two days, wanting to show her what he would do.

Tonight, she was going to let him in.

But first she wanted to gather as much useful data as possible. Not for herself, but for the changelings, the only people who’d ever treated her as anything other than a highly profitable machine. “Vaughn.” Her jaguar’s name was a talisman. Fur brushed over her hands, lips pressed against her neck, the sensations so real that she wrapped them around her like a protective cloak as she closed her eyes and stepped out into the starry field of the PsyNet.