Better people. Better Psy. Just . . . better.

“Are you sure?” her brother asked. “This environment . . .” Stepping closer, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you aware you’re wearing a monstrosity of a sweatshirt and canvas sneakers?” A scandalized look down at those sneakers. “I’m half-afraid you’ve been brainwashed.”

“I’m adapting to my circumstances.” Seeing below the frivolous comment to the concern that had brought him here, so far out of the city that was his comfort zone, she touched him on the arm. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

He froze for a second, the reaction an instinctive one for siblings who’d grown up under Silence. But he softened far quicker than any other member of the family would’ve done, lifting his other hand to place it over hers. As she’d learned to give Arwen what he needed to feel emotionally healthy, he’d learned to see through her Silence to the certainty that she’d die to protect him.

Silver didn’t know how to love, but she knew how to hold on to her people.

“You look good.” Relief colored his tone. “You’re recovering?”

“It’ll take a little time to get back to full strength, but I suffered no permanent damage.”

“You’re in a . . . a jungle with a clan of bears who don’t even believe in proper roads. What if you have a relapse?”

“The StoneWater healer is fully qualified.” Silver knew from the research she’d done into the clan that Evanova “Nova” Nikolaev was an M.D. as well as a changeling healer. “I’m in excellent hands.”

Arwen sighed. “You’re determined to stay here? It’s so primitive.”

While her brother was a sophisticate through and through.

Gentle and kind and the best Mercant of them all, but a snob when it came to his clothes and the cut of his hair. He’d lay down his life for a stranger in harm’s way without thinking twice—but even as he died, he’d probably be judging the clothes and shoes of everyone around him.

Pavel looked over at that instant, winked at Arwen. Who turned right back to Silver. “If you’re determined to remain in this den of savages,” he said in a tone designed to carry to sensitive changeling ears, “I’ll make sure to visit regularly so you don’t forget civilization.”

Used to him, Silver said, “Come, I’ll introduce you.” But by the time she reached Valentin, Pavel—whom she knew through her spy files on StoneWater—had melted away into the trees with unexpected stealth. It was a timely reminder never to forget that bears were dangerous predators under the skin. Even bears who wore spectacles and had dimples in both cheeks.

“You’re Arwen.” Valentin held out a hand in an action that said he’d noted their physical contact.

Arwen shook it. “Alpha Nikolaev,” he said formally. “Thank you for offering Silver sanctuary until we get to the bottom of this.”

“Progress?”

Arwen shook his head. “I did get access to the report on the poison. It has a unique composition.” Slipping out his whisper-thin combined organizer and phone, he brought up the chemical breakdown and turned the screen to face them. “I can run through the components.”

“No, I see it.” Valentin took the cutting-edge device; his expression turned unforgiving seconds later. “At a guess, I’d say this is designed to badly disturb Psy neurochemistry.”

“Valentin has a master’s degree in psychology,” Silver told her startled brother. Valentin’s academic choice had always intrigued her; it seemed so opposed to his forthright nature. “As he was so academically proficient he was strongly urged to do a doctorate, I’m guessing he’s aware of certain chemicals as they interact with the brain.”

Valentin’s expression softened, delight apparent in his eyes at her knowledge of his academic success. “Not something we studied in depth, Starlichka, but I know enough to make sense of this.” Handing Arwen’s prized piece of tech back to her brother, he said, “It’s the combination that’s the key, isn’t it?”

“Yes, the dosage was precisely calibrated to be devastating to the Psy system.” Arwen gave them a précis of the report because he’d already had time to digest it.

“The poisoner,” Silver said, “is either a highly skilled chemist or has access to the same.”

Valentin’s eyes glinted amber. “It’s a scent, a place to start.” He went to say something else when his phone rang.

The person on the other end had news of a highly unexpected nature.

The Human Alpha

BOWEN KNIGHT TOOK a second look at the header of the e-mail his assistant had forwarded to him. He had an open-door policy to every member of the Alliance, having learned that an out-of-touch leadership could destroy an organization from within. However, with that policy came an avalanche of messages no single human could possibly read. He’d finally agreed with his sister’s suggestion that he get an assistant.

Lily had also provided him with the CV of an eminently qualified person.

Not only was Neha trained to the highest level, she was extremely intelligent. Filtering his messages—everything apart from those that came directly to his private address—was just one part of her complex duties. At first, he’d checked the messages she’d filtered out from his inbox; he’d found not a single decision with which he disagreed.

These days, he trusted her judgment.

Which was why he was surprised to see the subject line of the message she’d forwarded, not just to his inbox, but also to his phone, so that it would pop up for his immediate attention.

    IGNORE AT YOUR PERIL!!

It seemed like the kind of scam/junky header designed to get people to open questionable mail, but Neha had clearly seen something important in it, so he didn’t ignore it.

Scanning it as he stood on his balcony overlooking a canal, he frowned.

Consider this fair warning. If you do not stop your efforts to DESTROY the human race by taking part in this ELIMINATION EFFORT disguised as a PEACE ACCORD, you will pay the price. You are important to the Alliance, have just been led astray. See the ERROR of your ways.

The first one will be a WARNING. The second will be aimed at you.

There was no signature line, nothing in the generic free-to-get address to show who might’ve sent it. What was clear was its threatening nature. Bo immediately contacted the tech team that was part of his larger security team and put them on the job of seeing if they could track the sender.

“Also, issue a yellow-level warning to all staff,” he ordered. “A crackpot like this might actually turn up and take a shot.”

Yellow was appropriate and would be taken seriously. Red was saved for an emergency, orange for when they had details of an actual event that was nearly guaranteed to take place.

After he hung up, he considered the message again. At first glance, it appeared to be written by someone of limited education, but when he looked at it more carefully, he saw that there were no misspellings and, except for the odd capitalization, the grammar and syntax were perfect.

Unfortunately, the writer’s pattern of speech wasn’t enough to track them down—there were a whole lot of intelligent, unhinged bastards on the planet.

The alert would have to stay at yellow until he had further data.