“She was shooting to kill.”

“We had faith in your reflexes—and she is an E. Not the best shot.”

Ethan felt a growl inside him, born of the shadow wolf that was his mate’s faint static-broken presence. Did the Consortium believe him mentally incapable as well as gullible?

“Does the alpha trust you?” Operative C asked.

“It’s too early for that. But we’ve made a connection.” A connection that meant Ethan would run this double cross until he could end Operative C, taking another chunk out of the Consortium.

The group would learn to never again look to an Arrow for collusion.

“I’ll work it as we discussed.” He had to utilize serious effort to sound as neutral as always because the wolf inside him was snarling. “Do not interfere.”

“Keep us updated.”

“When I can.” He dropped out of the PsyNet before he could surrender to the urge to strike out at that mind that thought it could control him and that had been involved in the wounding of his mate. Operative C was simply a symptom of a larger malignancy and might serve as a conduit to the core.

Regardless of reason and logic, however, the black ice continued to grow.

When he attempted to step back into the cold place simply to see if he could, he found it gone, obliterated from existence. Where it had been glowed tendrils of red flame that burned in furrows formed by claws.

Madness, his brain misfiring . . . but it was a beautiful madness.

Beyond the madness, his shields held firm, holding back the far more deadly force within.

Settling back against the outer wall of the symposium hall, he took in the area around him. Trees and gardens shimmered green in the sunlight and dappled shade onto the footpaths as people moved here and there, going about their lives in a way Ethan had never experienced.

“Woof.”

Ethan looked down at the dog with ragged fur that had wandered up to him, its body so thin that its rib cage pressed stripes against its skin. “I have no food.”

Tail wagging and tongue out as it huffed, the stray sat down beside Ethan. He resolved to ignore it, but his eyes kept being drawn to the creature’s ribs. Ethan had been that skinny during the worst periods of torture. The black ice cracked, riven with dark red embers.

“Stay here,” he told the dog, and went back into the symposium center.

It followed him to the door, then dropped its head when he went inside. Ethan didn’t think the creature would be there when he returned, but it was lying on the ground, tail flat—only to bound up in noisy excitement the instant it sensed Ethan.

“Down.” Ethan waited until the animal settled before giving it the food he’d gathered from the supplies inside.

There was no reason for it to starve when Ethan had access to food.

As the stray ate, Ethan leaned back against the wall and thought of Selenka, of her kiss, of her hands on his body and her claws against his nape, of how she scorched him with her primal intensity. Ethan wanted to be burned. It was the first time in his adult life he could remember wanting anything—but he wanted Selenka.

The stab of pain that lanced through his temples was accompanied by a head butting against his leg. The dog, wanting his attention. Used to the pain, he glanced down at the mangy creature. “Don’t look to be saved by me,” he warned. “I kill. I don’t protect.”

He was a monster, trained and raised. But he was now Selenka’s monster.

Chapter 9

Suspected cases of Scarab Syndrome logged to date: 32

Confirmed cases: 3

Excluded cases: 18

Tests in progress to ascertain status of the remainder of the group. Referrals speeding up, so the likelihood of further confirmed cases is certain. Patient Zero and Memory Aven-Rose, primary empath attached to this team, are assisting.

—Report to the Psy Ruling Coalition from Dr. Maia Ndiaye, PsyMed SF Echo

EZRA PUT HIS satchel down on the lounge sofa and screwed his eyes shut. The faint headache that had been plaguing him all day continued to linger like an unwelcome odor, but at least it hadn’t grown in strength.

The odd thing was, his telepathic powers felt stronger and sharper in an intense way. As if he’d gone up three or four Gradients in the space of a single day and could now telepath across continents.

Halos surrounded the objects around him, color refractions of light.

Groaning, he went to see if he had any medication on hand. At the same time, he reminded himself that he was a teacher of physics with an exam paper to write. He didn’t need to be distracted by migraine-induced delusions of grandeur and impossible spikes in his Gradient level.

He was also a respectable Gradient 6.9 telepath with a good job and excellent feedback ratings from his students, both Psy and otherwise. Not only that; he was partway through the post-Silence recovery program run by his new community PsyMed facility and was learning to recognize and deal with emotions. It appeared he was naturally inclined toward muted emotions, but he was definitely beginning to experience them.

Today, he’d spent a half hour longer than necessary in the facility library simply because he’d wanted to spend more time with another faculty member. His possible new friend hadn’t seemed averse to his presence, either.

Life was good.

Chapter 10

Ethan would be the perfect man to add to my team. His abilities allow for a non-damaging way to push out-of-control individuals into sleep.

He’s not ready. He barely communicates with us—to Ethan, we’re no more his people than any other strangers. I failed him, Vasic.

You were a child when he was brought in. Not even Axl knew of his existence and he was the closest operative we had to Ming.

The logic of it doesn’t matter. I see a broken Arrow and I feel him slipping away from the family we’re trying to build. Ethan is alone in a way I can’t comprehend.

—Conversation between Vasic Zen and Aden Kai (three months ago)

“HOW DID IT go with Natalia?” Selenka asked Valentin after Ivy Jane and Emilie teleported out with the blue-eyed Arrow.

Aden stepped out of the other room before the bear alpha could reply. “I recalled Nerida and had her teleport Jaya and Natalia straight to a mental health clinic for assessment—she was aggressive to the point of verbal and physical eruptions, with no sense of guilt or sorrow.”

Silver tapped one high-heel-clad foot, her sleek gray skirt suit spotless despite the events of the day. “That doesn’t seem a very empathic way to act.”

The other woman would know. Silver’s brother was an empath. The only reason Selenka had clued in to that well-hidden fact was because a month back, Enforcement had arrested Arwen Mercant alongside bears who’d been having too good a time—and the damn bears had managed to pull three of her wolves into the mess.

To his credit, Valentin had reamed his bears on that occasion. “There is fun,” he’d rumbled, “and there is anarchy. You’re all restricted to Denhome until I say otherwise. With no beer.”

As gasps of horror filled the cell where the miscreants had been sitting, Selenka had found herself watching the one person in the cell who wasn’t a bear or a wolf—and who aroused the same protective instincts in her alpha heart as healers. She’d ID’d him as Silver’s brother and figured he must be a medic. Then she’d come to this symposium, met all these Es, and realized the truth.

As for what the polished and sophisticated male had been doing in that cell, he apparently had terrible taste in men. So terrible that he hadn’t even seemed to care that his designer shirt was torn and his stylishly cut hair mussed. No, he’d been sitting there with a dreamy smile on his face, his head pillowed on the shoulder of one of the most troublemaking bears in Valentin’s clan.

As her dedushka had said to Selenka on the occasion of her first unrequited crush: Love is cruel—you could fall for a goat. Imagine having half-goat children. They’d baaaowl instead of howl.

The poor Mercants apparently had a habit of falling for bears. She’d said a prayer for their clan before leaving her drunk packmates in jail to sleep it off. Surviving a night in a small area resonant with bear snores had made all three vow to never again trust a bear who promised to show them a fun time.

Now she leaned one shoulder against the wall and folded her arms. “I’m with Silver. Empaths tend to flinch if they accidentally step on an insect. Killing other sentient beings is a whole level up.”

Aden echoed her position on the other side of the corridor, but with a martial tension to him that reminded her of her mate. Cold night and jagged pieces and hers. Gripped by a sudden possessive fury that had her eyes semi-shifting, she almost missed Aden’s reply. “Natalia didn’t read as unstable to my senses, but I’m no specialist. It does appear that she suffered extreme physical abuse under Silence.”

Selenka’s lip curled. Abused submissives in a wolf pack didn’t often strike out, but when they did, the results tended to be catastrophic. In a healthy pack, any sign of abuse was picked up long before it got to that point. But the PsyNet hadn’t been a healthy place for empaths for over a century. “She’s angry.”

“In a way I’ve never before seen in any empath. While her Empathic Collective psychological profile did note an anger issue for which counseling was strongly suggested, no one had reason to be concerned about violence.”

“We think we know empaths,” Silver said, “but they may as well be a new designation, so much information has been lost. We have a single expert in Alice Eldridge and we can’t expect her to know each and every facet of an entire designation.”

Aden nodded. “Ivy’s planning to speak to Alice, see if she does have any insights into Natalia’s behavior.”

“Seems simple enough to me.” Selenka shrugged. “A creature with its paw caught in a trap will gnaw off that paw to escape—and a wounded animal maddened by pain will bite any hand that comes near.”

Valentin’s face was thunderous, but the words he spoke were calm. “Odd that two of them decided to strike at the same time.” He leaned into Silver’s body when the telepath aligned herself against his side. “I can see targeting the symposium to make a big splash, but two at once? Not coincidence.”