VISIONS OF HEAT

“They never do.” Vaughn’s claws pricked at her skin through her clothing.

Panic a knot in her throat, she closed her hand over his. “You can’t go for him. Enforcement would love to get their hands on you.”

“You’re my mate.”

She knew it was killing him to not be the one to ensure her vengeance. “I need you alive and with me. Vaughn, please. Please.”

“Tell the damn Psy.” A growled command.

She did and shot by the killer’s mind once more in a move calculated to break his concentration. It worked—Judd located him. Dropping his head into his hands all of a sudden, the killer began to whimper. But he wasn’t yet incapacitated. There was too much intelligence in those black eyes as they searched the area for the source of attack. She wondered why Judd was holding back.

Then the Tp-Psy materialized to stand beside her. “Be sure,” he said. “This is irreversible.”

About to give an answer powered by fury, she forced herself to think, to consider the fact that this was a life. Going back over that last contact, she added them to the ones before. And came to a startling realization. “Something’s wrong.”

“Do I pull out?” No judgment, no worry; Judd Lauren was so cold he made her want to shiver.

“It is him, but . . . Vaughn, remember what you said about seeing darkness around me?”

“Not something I could ever forget.” A voice walking the finest edge of rage.

She leaned more heavily against him, afraid the cat would take control and overrule his decision not to rip the man to pieces in plain sight. “Well, that used to coat him, too. In the visions when I was him, it was a cloak around us.” It was why she’d instinctively called him the darkness. “But now it’s gone. I can’t see into his mind, but I know it’s gone.”

“Do we move on him, Faith?” Judd asked. “I’ve only got one shot at this—he’s starting to recover and fight back.”

She looked at the target again, this man who’d become so much a part of her life but was a stranger. Once more, what chilled her most was his ordinariness. It was too dangerous to try to enter his mind, so she had no idea what had driven him to murder. It was even possible that he’d been the pawn of a greater evil and was now purged, free like her. To order his death might be to kill an innocent.

She found herself frozen and in that instant, she saw the blood that would be spilled if he did not die. The darkness might’ve been sloughed off, but he remained a nightmare. “Yes. Go.”

And that quickly, vengeance was hers.





Three hours later, she found herself sitting inside the alpha pair’s aerie surrounded by Sascha and several changelings—Vaughn, Clay, Lucas, and a blond sentinel who’d been introduced to her as Dorian. There was something angry in Dorian’s blue eyes when he looked at her, a cold rage she couldn’t understand, not when he hadn’t participated in the hunt. A changeling word. A changeling punishment. Delivered by a Psy mind. That Psy had disappeared afterward and she was glad. She owed him for what he’d done, but Judd had a tendency to push Vaughn the wrong way.

Everyone else was considering how to keep her safe, but she was thinking about that morning’s events. She’d ordered the destruction of a mind, a decision that should’ve filled her with guilt. But though she felt sorrow, she also felt a sense of rightness. Marine could now rest in peace, safe in the knowledge that no other woman would die at the hands of the darkness.

Vaughn walked over from where he’d been standing talking to Clay. “Up.”

“What?”

Scowling, he simply lifted her up off the large cushion on which she sat and settled back down with her in his lap. She curled into his warmth, conscious of the others sitting or standing mere steps away, but not caring. Cats lived by different rules and she was adapting.

“Sometimes,” Vaughn said, “blood has to be spilled.”

She could still hear the raw anger in his voice and it worried her. “But I can’t not think about it. That would make me a monster, too.”

He just held her as she made her peace with what she’d done. Some time later, she was about to join in the conversation going on around her when she felt a prod at her mind. Instead of reacting with a defensive strike, her ability took over and opened a telepathic channel.

Hundreds of images of flowers waterfalled through that narrow band.

“Oh.” Faith’s hand clenched on Vaughn’s upper arm.

Her cat was instantly on the alert. “What is it?”

“Shh.” She closed her eyes and tried to figure out a way to send her reply without affecting the others, but couldn’t. “Everyone who can receive Tp thoughts, ignore this.” Then she shot back a single flower, layering it with sheer joy and excitement.

A complicated set of images answered her.

Deciphering the message, she endeavored to tune her mind to the right frequency, one so unusual, she knew no other sentience that used it. “Sascha, can you see this?” She sent out a test image.