“Kaleb?”

“Five more minutes.”

Her legs shaky, she was glad to have the opportunity to just sit there. She hadn’t flamed out, so she was able to teleport in two nutrient drinks. As she knew exactly where they were in her apartment, the small “fetch” was easy to pull off.

Payal, how are you? I can see the change in the Substrate.

That beautiful voice. Of a man who remembered her, who saw her. I’m fine. Kaleb’s still here.

Kaleb came back fully into his body at that moment. The transformation was subtle and intense at the same time. His muscles held a touch more tension, his obsidian gaze acute, the sheer power of him focused on her.

Many people were afraid of Kaleb Krychek. A logical response. Payal, though, felt no fear—she was an A. He would never touch her. But more than that, she saw something in Kaleb that felt familiar.

Spotting the drink, he picked it up and unscrewed the tamperproof seal. “The repair is fragile at best,” he said afterward. “We have an Arrow babysitting it, but it’s not going to hold.”

“That’s because there’s no anchor there.” Rising, she grabbed a jotter pad off her desk and sketched out the system she and the others had put in place. “Best-case scenario is that it’ll hold for a month, but we can’t guarantee anything beyond two weeks. Especially should another linked anchor fall.”

Krychek looked at her with eyes still devoid of stars. “What’s this conduit mean for you and the other hubs?”

“Exhaustion.” Payal wasn’t here to pull punches. She was here to be a battle tank. “A short stint won’t do permanent injury, but much longer and you’ll lose five anchors instead of one.”

Kaleb’s face stayed expressionless. She could see why he’d not only made the Psy Council at such a young age but survived it. Either he had a stone-cold heart or he’d learned to school his emotions in the same kind of deadly crucible in which she’d come of age.

Yet Kaleb had what changelings would call a mate. “May I ask a personal question?”

He looked directly at her face, as if trying to see through to her brain. “I can’t promise to answer it.”

Payal didn’t retreat. This was too important. “How do you do it?” She returned that direct stare. “Feel enough emotion to be bonded to another while remaining ice-cold in your daily interactions.”

A single blink was the only giveaway that she’d surprised him. For a long second, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “It’s Canto, isn’t it?” He crossed one ankle over the knee of his other leg, his hand lying loosely on the crossed leg. “I knew as soon as he asked me to protect you while you were out.”

Things shifted and twisted inside her, the screaming girl fierce with joy, a bright and defiant flame.

Even though she didn’t confirm his supposition, Kaleb continued. “I had a childhood where—let’s just say trust would’ve been a weakness that saw me destroyed. So I learned to build impenetrable shields.”

Startled that he’d shared such a personal thing, Payal leaned forward. “Why did you tell me that?”

Another intent look. “The same reason you asked the question of a man most people never dare to approach on personal topics.”

A sense of familiarity, of like knowing like.

“The shields aren’t the problem,” she admitted. “I can hold those forever if I truly wish to.”

“It’s a cold place to live, isn’t it? That cage of walls?”

“But it’s safe.”

“Do you want to die feeling safe?” His words were soft. “Or do you want to die feeling free?”

It was as if the two of them were in a bubble, cold and dark. “What if freedom equals destruction?”

“Might depend on the reason you asked your initial question.” Rising, he grabbed his jacket. “According to Ena Mercant, Canto is one of the rocks of the family. He could be your safe place to stand, as Sahara is mine.”

The idea of it was so breathtakingly seductive that it stole her breath. “Thank you,” she managed to get out. “You didn’t have to answer me, but you did.” It meant something.

“Sahara’s obviously a bad influence.” No change in his tone or expression, Krychek glanced at his timepiece. “We need a Coalition meeting,” he said. “Can you do it after this?”

“Give me a half hour.” Not only did she need to refuel, she had to deal with a couple of business issues to keep her father and brother at bay.

“I’ll send you the comm codes.” He nodded toward the door. “By the way, someone’s been shoving telekinetically at your door for the past ten minutes.”

She glanced toward the door, only then realizing he had to be holding it shut against any attempt to enter. “I appreciate the notice. I have it.”

Krychek left it to her, but before he teleported out, he looked her in the eye and said, “Some choices define us, Payal.”

She inclined her head, her heart in a fist, and when she looked up, he was gone.

“Payal!” Lalit’s voice yelling her name. “Stop playing games and open this damn door.”

She rubbed her forehead. She was tired and needed time to rest and refuel, not deal with her psychopathic brother. She also needed the tumor-control medication, but the pain wasn’t yet to the point where things were critical. What was Lalit even doing here?

A single glance at her organizer told her the answer: their father had been attempting to contact her. Too bad.

She teleported out, leaving Lalit to fall into an empty office.

Chapter 31

 

“I think I might actually have been kind. It’s disturbing.”

“And people say you have no sense of humor. Come here so I can kiss you.”

—Sahara Kyriakus to Kaleb Krychek

CANTO NEARLY RAN into Payal when she appeared in front of the glass doors that opened out onto his deck.

She swayed.

“Hey, hey.” Heart thundering, he gripped her hips.

She swayed again.

Shifting his hold, he eased her down into a seated position on the only possible seat: his lap. Warm and soft, she was a jolt to his system.

“Sorry.” Her voice was slurred as her head slumped against his shoulder. “Thought I was stable, but conduit drain kicked in midteleport.”