Her wolf went on alert. “What’s the matter? Telepathic attack?” If so, she had Judd on standby. He could teleport in and hopefully disrupt the process.
Lines of pain radiated out from the professor’s eyes. “No. Dissonance programming—it appears I am not meant to talk of such things.” He dropped his hand, his breathing rough. “It’s excruciating on one level, but I’ve become somewhat numbed to it over the years.”
“Because a man of learning,” she said, pouring him a glass of water from a nearby jug, “doesn’t like having his thoughts truncated.” He wouldn’t call it bravery, wouldn’t even call it an emotional decision, but he’d made a stand in his own quiet way. “What do you think you’ll see in the next decade of your life?”
His eyes were calm, his answer brutal. “War.”
RIAZ halted in the doorway of the meeting room on the lower floor of the same art deco hotel in San Francisco. “Where’s Bo?”
Looking up from the other side of the small oval table, Lisette said, “He flew back to Venice an hour ago,” in that distinctive clear tone of hers. “There was another attempt to take Alliance personnel. Everyone’s safe, but he wants to be there on the ground. He assumed you’d be fine working out the final details with me.”
“Of course,” he said, making a mental note to follow up on the attack with her later in the day. As liaison, Lisette should have the most up-to-date information. “Have you been through the communication protocols I e-mailed through? Any problems?”
Lisette’s smile was soft. “Won’t you sit?”
He took a chair across from her, and it was the first time he’d really looked at her since her arrival in the country. The impact was … unexpected. The primal draw he felt toward her hadn’t disappeared, but it had dulled to background noise, leaving him clearheaded and in control. What had him taking a deep, quiet breath was that his wolf, too, showed no desire to wrench at the reins, to lunge at her. It lay quiet, watchful.
Lisette lifted a hand in a graceful motion, the fine gold bracelet around her wrist sliding lower down her arm. “I have no issues with the protocols. I should’ve told you that in my e-mail, but I … wanted to talk.”
He took in the shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her skin, felt his protective instincts stir. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry.” She swallowed, shook her head. “I don’t know why—” Another head shake before her face crumpled.
“Hey, hey.” Walking around the table, he crouched down beside her, taking her hands into his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
It took her several minutes to catch her breath. “I haven’t spoken to Emil in a month,” she whispered, her eyes red.
“Ah, Lisette.” Rising, he pulled her into a hug.
She held on tight to him. “I don’t know why I can speak to you about this, why it feels so easy.” Bewilderment. “I haven’t told anyone else.”
Riaz’s wolf understood why she felt so comfortable with him, yet he knew to his bones that she wasn’t the one he’d go to if he was hurting as badly as Lisette was now. There was only one person he trusted enough to lower his guard, leave himself defenseless, only one person to whom his wolf would speak its secrets. The knowledge was another piece settling into place, another filament in the bond between him and his empress.
Squeezing Lisette tight, he released her and nudged her back into her chair. “Why?” he asked after getting her a cup of coffee. “I know you’re crazy for one another.”
“Something happened and he just stopped talking to me,” she said in an almost sub-vocal tone. “I can’t believe he’s having an affair, but what else could it be?” She wiped off another rush of tears. “I said I was leaving him, hoping the shock would get through to him and he’d finally tell me what was wrong … and he said he wanted a divorce.”
MERCY wasn’t the teensiest bit surprised when Riley turned up that night to join her on her security patrol of the city. Her leopard butted up against his scent, playful and affectionate. Riley’s returning touch was careful, almost … tentative.
Tilting her head to the side, she said, “What’s up, my personal and very sexy big, bad wolf?” Riley was never tentative. Though quiet, the man had steamrollers beat. He’d have made mincemeat of the little submissive he’d once dreamed about—Mercy had forgiven him for that, but she still liked to jerk his chain about it now and then.
Not tonight, not when he looked so solemn.
“You’re being sweet,” he said, the tentativeness replaced by frustration. “I keep waiting for a hiss and a swipe with your claws, and instead you pet me.”
Laughing softly, she pressed her body to his. “Riley, my Riley.” So solid and strong and stable, he was her port in the storm. No matter what happened, she knew she could come home to Riley, his love as enduring as the mountains themselves. “I know what it does to you to have me vulnerable.”
The fact she carried a child—children—in her womb, meant she was no longer as fast or as lethal, cognizant as she was about not doing anything to injure their young. It was the reason she’d asked to be put on routine patrols. “I know.” Claws kneading gently at his shoulders, she spoke with her lips against his. “It doesn’t make me crazy when you check up on me.” His deep need to care, to protect was patent in every shimmer of the mating bond. That’s who Riley was, and she loved him for it.
“Honest?” he said, stroking his hand around to her nape.
“Honest.” Sealed with a kiss. “Are you going to stay?”
He gave a sheepish nod. “I put myself on shift here. I know it’s doubling up, but we have enough people that no one will notice.”
And Riley, she thought, had earned the time. He was SnowDancer’s rock, too, had been for as long as Hawke had been alpha. “Come on. Let’s go neck on the pier—Zach will cover for me.” Her partner was being very discreet on the other side of the street.
Riley laughed; it was one of her favorite sounds in the universe.
Chapter 60
“IT’S AS I expected,” Vasquez said to the man inside the sterile chamber. “The anchors in the California region are now under heavy guard.”
“Can we get to them?”
“Yes, but we may jeopardize our primary operative.” Too late, Vasquez realized that he shouldn’t have given ground on the Cape Dorset strike. “We should change the focus of our next planned hit from San Francisco to another major center with the potential for high impact.”
“We aren’t mindless anarchists,” came the rasped-out response. “The populace must see we do this for a reason. To cleanse the Net of those who have failed to maintain their Silence.”
“The risk is high. Nikita and Anthony have changeling support.”
“Which only displays their weakness.” His judgment was one Vasquez shared. “It’s time we demonstrated that. San Francisco remains the target.”
Every part of his training told him the move was a foolish one, but he also knew Henry was right. Violence alone was not the answer. The message must be heard. “I’ll begin the preparations.” It would take extensive reconnaissance and extreme patience, but Vasquez had never yet failed in his task.
Chapter 61
ADRIA HAD BEEN coping. She hadn’t interrogated Riaz about his meeting with Lisette the previous day, hadn’t picked and prodded at the unspoken truth that hovered between them, conscious that doing so would only create a wound that would fester. Instead, she’d made the decision to cherish the tender and passionate tie that had grown between them, to bask in the wild affection of his wolf, and not obsess over the primal bond they’d never have. So she didn’t know how this had happened, how she’d ended up alone with the woman who made it impossible to think about anything else.
“Thank you so much for this,” Lisette said, strapping on her safety belt. “I truly wasn’t hinting at a ride when I ran into you.”
“It’s not a problem.” Having dropped off some papers at DarkRiver HQ for Hawke, Adria had been walking back through Chinatown to her car when she’d run into Lisette coming out of a souvenir shop. “Buy anything interesting?”
The woman laughed, and it was a sweet, gentle sound. In spite of her perfect makeup and hair, her pristine tangerine-colored dress that looked both professional and summery beneath a neutral-toned trench coat, Lisette gave off a warmth that was genuine. Now, she rustled in her bag and came out with a small jade statuette. “The storekeeper said it would bring me good luck—I’m going to ask DarkRiver and SnowDancer for permission to set up an apartment in the city.”
Adria’s heart stuttered. “You’d continue to be the liaison?”
“Yes. It might actually work better if the packs have me here on the ground.”
The other woman’s words made too much sense, speaking as they did to the changeling preference for situations where they could judge the other party’s mood, his or her scent. “Have you and your husband decided which part of the city you’d want to live in if you get the okay?” The question was a reminder to herself that Lisette was happily married, had no desire to press a claim on the lone wolf who was Adria’s.
A long silence from the passenger seat, so long that the hairs stood up on the back of Adria’s neck, her mind working a hundred miles an hour. “Your husband’s not moving,” she guessed, knowing she shouldn’t pry but unable to let it go.
“No.” It was a whisper. “We’ve separated.”
Adria’s wolf felt as if it had been kicked with steel-toed boots, was broken and bleeding as her world crashed down around her, but her voice sounded oddly calm. “I’m sorry.” She understood the hurt that came with the collapse of a long-term relationship, couldn’t not feel compassion, even toward a woman who threatened to steal everything from her. “It’s final?”