Just tell me the time and place and I’ll be there, Aden said without hesitation.

“That is a highly disturbing creature.” Nikita’s voice sliced the air and, despite her words, carried no sense of disgust or horror. “You say there were hundreds of them?”

Memory’s mouth fell open. “You saw it?”

Nikita Duncan gave her a look so frigid it was glacial. “My visual cortex hasn’t imploded in the last few seconds, so yes.”

Unfazed, Memory threw up her hands, her curls bouncing. “I have no idea how you’re Sascha’s mom.”

“It involves an egg and sperm.”

Krychek broke into the chilly conversation to explain the issue to Nikita. At which point, she sat back in her seat and said, “I see.” A good half minute passed before she added, “To answer your initial question, no, this isn’t what I see—this is a macrocosm of what I see. Viruses magnified to a size visible to the naked eye.”

Ethan saw it then, what Krychek was thinking. “A Scarab with your ability magnified to cardinal status,” he said, knowing he was describing a thing of absolute horror.

Nikita went motionless. “My ability is a minor one for a reason. It’s incredibly destructive even when applied with pinprick precision. Survival is impossible.”

“We have survivors,” Aden responded. “Three in critical care, with severe brain inflammation, but the normal medications appear to be working. Two more are already stable, with no signs of long-term damage.”

“Your doing, I assume?” Nikita said to Memory.

“Feel free to assume what you like,” Memory said cheerfully, offering no further information.

Protecting Ethan.

He was starting to see why Selenka sometimes said “Empaths” in that tone of voice.

“But,” Memory added, “if you can see them, you can probably zap them.”

“I’ve never tried.” Nikita shrugged, and Ethan knew it was apt to be a calculated gesture meant to appear natural. “When I release the virus,” she said, her gaze locked on Memory, “I intend for the target to die.”

Memory stared back, her arms folded across her chest.

“If you are able to affect them, your résumé will now include the title of rescuer.” Krychek looked between Nikita and Memory but didn’t comment on the silent standoff. “If this is a Scarab ability as all signs seem to indicate, we’ll have another attack soon. Memory can’t handle them all alone.”

“I’ll assist.” Nikita’s immediate agreement was unexpected. Then she added, “A rampant virus will decimate the Net. That is not good for any of us, and if this spreader of infection were sane, they’d be aware of that.”

Even with his limited knowledge of Psy politics and power players, Ethan knew Nikita was a financial powerhouse—and that the PsyNet was her home ground. He had zero doubts that she’d survive should it suffer a total and catastrophic failure, but a shredded Net would crash the stock market, devastating her power base.

“So,” Krychek said, “at this point, with the available information, it appears we have a major Scarab-linked threat. Without further details, all we can do is watch and respond. Ethan, your job is to watch for and attempt to track back any indication of virus activity. That is your priority.”

Ethan glanced at Aden and got the squad leader’s nod. Because while he was still coming to terms with being part of this brotherhood, he belonged more to them than he did to Krychek. “Understood,” he said, aware that if he could track down the individual behind the macrovirus, he’d save infinitely more lives than if he simply assisted to clean off the infection.

Yet . . . It was a choice to abandon some for the good of the many, and that felt intrinsically wrong to him. Maybe it was because of his bond with Selenka and how she valued each and every person. Including Ethan.

A mind touched his, her voice weaker than Aden’s but not “soft” in the way he’d have expected of an empath. I won’t abandon them, Memory promised when he accepted the communication. Looks like Nikita won’t, either. You don’t have to worry.

A surge began to build at the back of his mind. Thank you, he said. Break off. Contact with you is exacerbating the rogue power.

Ethan, you have to run the test soon. Your mind is under too much pressure, Memory said quickly before she closed the telepathic link.

Ethan caught a hint of wet iron at that moment, just as his head began to pound like a drum, and said, “I have to go.” Disconnecting from the comm call before the bleed showed on his face, he rebuffed Aden’s attempt at telepathic contact.

Pain wracked him, so hard that he bent over with his hands on his knees. It felt as if his brain were trying to push its way out past his skull. His blood was fire, the wolf inside him a clawing beast.

“Ethan!”

He heard Selenka’s voice from a distance, sensed the force with which she’d slammed open the door, and knew he couldn’t fall. He was the mate of an alpha wolf. He was Selenka Durev’s mate. And he would stand by her side strong and dangerous. He would be her knight.

Rising to his full height after wiping away the blood, he met a golden gaze. He knew his own eyes had gone black, but he was upright, the pain gritted back behind an expressionless facade.

The origami wolf pack he’d been in the midst of creating lay tumbled on the floor.

“Enough.” Selenka sliced out a hand. “I am not going to stand around and watch you die piece by piece.” Striding over, she gripped his jaw with one hand. “Contact Sascha Duncan or I’ll do it for you.”

“Not here.” Ethan wasn’t about to budge on this. “I won’t bring strangers into your den, won’t expose your vulnerable.”

Selenka’s eyes flashed, but she softened her grip. “Fine. We’ll drive to the HQ. Can you arrange for her to meet us there?”

“Yes.”

Ethan used Memory’s telepathic imprint to send her a message then and there, keeping it as short as possible. Can Sascha see me soon?

A pause before she very quickly said, Thirty minutes. Arrange teleport pickup, and ended contact.

Ethan told Selenka the time period, and they both ran for the Warren’s vehicle bay, Loyal pacing them. It’d be a hard drive to reach the city HQ within that period, but it was doable. At the same time, Ethan switched telepathic “channels” to link with Aden. I need a teleport assist. DarkRiver territory to BlackEdge’s city HQ in thirty minutes.

Request status?

Urgent.

Wait. That wait period lasted less than ten seconds, during which time they reached an all-wheel-drive vehicle and jumped in, with Selenka in the driver’s seat. Vasic will do the pickup and drop-off. He’ll need a visual.

Sascha Duncan is the pickup. As a cardinal empath, she had to know Vasic’s mate, Ivy Jane Zen. Vasic could well already have the necessary visual to anchor a teleport.

His theory was borne out when Aden said, Vasic will contact Sascha to arrange pickup.

Thank you. Then he thought of the silent request he’d made and that Aden had promised to fulfill. I’ll need you there when it’s time to do the test.

Aden was quiet for a moment. Build your shields and do the test, Ethan. I won’t lose one of my Arrows without cause—and this is a new world. We don’t know all its secrets and we can’t predict what our brains will do freed of the shackles of Silence. I’ll be there. Should I bring Memory?

As they drove out into the orange-red of the setting sun, Loyal panting in the backseat, Ethan thought of how his rogue power reacted to Memory, the ferocity of it. Control would be meaningless unless truly tested. Yes.

Dropping out of the telepathic connection, he turned to look at Selenka. Her jaw was clenched, her cheeks flushed, and her hands tight on the steering wheel. “It’s all set up. First the shields, then the test.”

Her claws erupted from the tips of her fingers. “All the way, Ethan. We test this all the fucking way. I am not losing my mate.”

Her growl was a vibration in his bones by the time they pulled up at the HQ with five minutes to spare—thanks to Selenka’s reflexes. She could drive at lethal speed without error. Entering, they strode toward the back—but Ivo popped out his head from a room before they reached the courtyard.

“Cake?” The slender male, dark circles under his eyes but black jeans and aqua blue shirt sharply pressed, held out a saucer with a large red wedge iced in white. “Chaos”—a glance at Ethan—“that’s the bears’ head chef, dropped a giant cake off in thanks for me sourcing a rare spice for him a couple of weeks back.”

Grabbing the saucer, Selenka took a huge bite, mumbling around it. It sounded something like: “Ghreet, nowam eatin bear cak.”

Ethan waved off the offer of a slice, while Loyal walked over to peer out the back door into the courtyard. “Are you a cook, too?”

“No, I’m an eating specialist who has a vested interest in making friends with chefs.” Ivo bit into the slice he’d offered Ethan. “And I need the sugar to keep me going. Disciples come off clean as fucking snow, but I don’t buy it. Somebody in that group is brilliant with sleight-of-hand financial tricks, and my money is on Blaise.”

“No shady paper trails?” Selenka asked after demolishing her cake.

Licking off frosting from his upper lip, Ivo shook his head.

“Any indication Blaise—or Nomani—have advanced financial training?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I learned most of my superskills”—he wiggled the fingers of one hand—“out of interest and obsessive determination.”

“Ivo can hack into most Psy databases with one hand tied behind his back,” Selenka told Ethan. “Don’t give him access to your devices unless you want him knowing your bank account details.”

“Hey!” Ivo threw up his hands. “Just because I look doesn’t mean I’d ever use the information. I have principles!”