VISIONS OF HEAT

“How?” It was the dark-skinned male called Clay.

She had to force herself not to press closer into Vaughn. “There were time markers in the last series of images, things that let me place a vision in the correct time frame. Some markers are hard to spot, like seasonal changes or the color of the sky, but these were unmistakable.”

No one spoke so she continued, grounding herself in the muscled heat of the body surrounding hers. The embrace was a silent statement of his loyalty, she knew that much. “I saw a datebook open on her desk as well as the face of an electronic clock. Both the same.” Time markers didn’t get much clearer than that.

Then she revealed something she’d told Vaughn in the car after unraveling all the other markers. “We have one day.” Too close for comfort, far too close. “If we don’t get him . . . it’s likely we won’t save her. He feels”—she searched for the right words—“full, full of anticipation, of need. He doesn’t keep and torture his victims, either. While stalking his intended victim excites him, his biggest thrill comes from the actual kill.” Like when he’d killed Marine. Once again, her heart clenched and now she knew what to call it: a mixture of pain and grief, sorrow and loss.

“Where?” Judd asked, his voice utterly toneless.

“You’re Psy.” She was suddenly positive beyond any reasonable doubt. “Only Sascha is supposed to be outside the Net.”

He didn’t answer her implied question. “Where?”

She decided to ask Vaughn later. “The small private university that went up a few years ago on the edge of Napa. It specializes in viticulture.”

“Most students and staff are human or changeling,” Lucas pointed out. “What would a Psy be doing there? They’re not much into organic assets.”

“I think she’s some kind of technician. Don’t wineries have sophisticated temperature monitoring and cooling systems?”

“It could be that.” Vaughn’s hands dropped to rest on her hips—an act of male ownership, one she didn’t have any desire to fight. “Not that it matters if she’s going to be there on that date and at that time. We’ll pick him off before he gets to her.”

“Why are we cleaning up a Psy mess again?” Clay’s deep voice. “Faith’s not in any danger. The killer and possible victim are both Psy. Shouldn’t the Council be taking care of this?”

“Clay!” Sascha looked shocked. “We’re speaking about a woman’s life.”

“I’m not saying we forget about it, just that we let those responsible tidy it up.”

“And what if they don’t?” Faith asked softly, staring into that harshly masculine face that was so without mercy. Clay was different from Vaughn, no matter that Vaughn’s animal roamed nearer to the skin. There was something very dark in the leopard, something that walked a fine line between good and evil.

She had a knowing almost on top of that thought—Clay’s time was coming. One day soon he’d have to decide which side of that line he wanted to be on. “What if she simply disappears like the others I heard about on the Net? Will you be able to sleep at night, your conscience clear?” Because he wasn’t quite gone yet, was still on the good side of the line. By a bare fraction.

Clay raised an eyebrow. “So we take this guy out. Great. What about the next and the next and the next?”

Faith didn’t know where her answer came from. “Some futures we can’t see, some lives we can’t save, but this one we can. Let’s discuss the rest later.”

“There’s a bigger problem.” Lucas rocked back in his chair, propping his feet up on the railing. “If neither victim nor killer is changeling, it falls within Enforcement jurisdiction. We don’t have the right to enforce Law.”

Faith had forgotten that. “We could let the authorities know.”

“Same as telling the Council.” Clay snorted. “Unless you’re ready to hand over the whole fucking mess to your psychopathic race?”

Vaughn went utterly still around her. “Watch it, cat.”

Faith didn’t understand all of what was going on, but she could read the aggression in the air. She shifted to wrap an arm around Vaughn’s waist. He didn’t take his eyes off Clay.

After a tense moment, the other male gave a slow nod. “I was out of line.” A pause. “She reminds me of someone.”

Faith worked through the statement, startled at the belated realization that Vaughn had turned hostile toward Clay because of his rudeness to her. Warmth spread in her secret heart. But notwithstanding that, she didn’t want to be the cause of Vaughn fighting with his pack.

“About Enforcement,” she said, sliding her hand under his T-shirt to lie palm down on his back. Her cat responded to the stroking, looking away from Clay at last.