More and more family groups and businesses were adding the Human Alliance logo to their own. Bowen Knight had also managed to build strong relationships with a growing number of powerful changeling packs—and, crucially, he’d begun to meet with Psy family groups to see if business cooperation was possible between the two disparate races.

The Alliance called him its security chief, but he was its effective CEO. The ostensible leader was seventy years old, a man who was respected for his advice, but who turned up only on those occasions when the Alliance needed a media-friendly talking head to represent them. Apparently the older male was very happy with this arrangement—the Architect knew because Consortium spies had subtly sounded him out with the intention of flipping him with promises of power.

Every single spy had reached the same conclusion: Giovanni Somme is unshakably loyal to Bowen Knight. He understands he’s a figurehead, but Bowen speaks to him often and has taken his advice on more than one occasion. Before being raised to his current position, he was consigned to an obscure desk job despite his experience and decades of service to the Alliance. There is nothing we can give him that will make him turn against his leader.

Somme, however, could not step into Knight’s shoes. Knight’s loss would cripple the Alliance, but it would most probably also turn the spotlight firmly back on the Consortium, wrecking the Architect’s plans. Because, unlike the others in the Consortium, the Architect didn’t just want money or a certain level of political influence. The Architect wanted power.

If that meant cleaning house and eliminating some of the looser cannons in the Consortium, so be it.

Chapter 43

Don’t shortchange your legacy by settling for a mediocre match. Accept only the gold standard.

—Advertisement for Qui & Charleston, genetic fertility specialists

SILVER RETURNED TO the apartment complex at eleven thirty that night. She was psychically and mentally exhausted, the dual natural disasters having had a far worse impact than anyone had predicted. Evacuations were still in progress, notwithstanding that every single group and individual she’d contacted had pitched in to assist.

At this point, there was nothing EmNet or Silver could do. As always, their job was to coordinate resources in the immediate aftermath and get the correct people in position, then back off unless further assistance was requested. EmNet would remain on call, of course, but now that all necessary parties had been connected, the local coordinators held the reins.

Despite Silver’s immediate action in initiating a disaster plan, casualties were forecast to be in the hundreds.

Silver knew the result EmNet had achieved was far better than any possible outcome prior to the creation of the worldwide emergency network. Rescue had been underway in a matter of minutes, with more help coming in from across the region. None of that made the outcome a good one in her personal ledger. Losing even a single individual went against her perfectionist tendencies.

She had to learn to manage that. Today, her fierce concentration in attempting to do the impossible, save every life, had led to a pulsing headache behind her eyes. It had no doubt been exacerbated by the fact she hadn’t stopped to intake any nutrition. That wasn’t about to change—she’d forgotten to order a delivery of nutrition bars and drinks after finishing the final items in her pantry this morning.

That food had come in a hamper courtesy of StoneWater.

Silver wasn’t used to forgetting such essentials, but she wasn’t concerned, aware she was still regaining her equilibrium after life-altering surgery. The thought had just passed through her mind when she entered her home to the soft glow of a light she’d turned on via her organizer.

Placing her workbag on a nearby chair, she removed her heels and walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. She went motionless at first sight of her dining table. Sitting on it was a large jar of nutrient mix, beside it an even larger box of protein bars. A bowl of glowing gold glass veined with bronze sat next to that—it held a number of shiny red apples.

The variant Valentin had fed her slices from as they discussed her conditioning.

All I’m saying is, how can you possibly have all the data if you’ve never let go of your Silence to see what happens?

Deep and a little rough, his voice echoed in Silver’s head.

She took a breath when her lungs began to protest, walked on quiet feet to the table. The note was propped up beside the card she hadn’t thrown away. Picking it up, she read words written in a strong and messy black scrawl that was deeply familiar: I heard you haven’t had a food delivery. I stocked you up. All seals initialed so you know they haven’t been tampered with. Eat.—V.

Silver didn’t even bother wondering how he’d gotten in. This was a changeling complex, and he was an alpha bear. After mixing up a tall glass of the nutrient drink, she picked up a protein bar and an apple, then went to sit in the padded window seat that looked out onto the green space that was the heart of the complex.

Despite the late hour, a group of adults lingered below. They had beers in hand but weren’t really drinking, the interaction more about socializing than alcohol. At this time of night, even the usual bear-wolf animosity was dropped in favor of a quiet drink to round off the day.

Silver knew she’d be welcomed with open arms should she wander down, but she wasn’t in the correct frame of mind for casual social interaction. She’d learned to do it as a teenager to put those of the emotional races at ease . . . and she’d come to like it during her stay with StoneWater, but her memories of that time were blurred outlines, distant echoes viewed through a thick pane of glass.

She stared at her meal.

And found herself choosing to pick up her phone. The number was preprogrammed. Valentin answered within seconds, his voice a deep rumble that sank into her veins.

“Spasibo for the food,” she said. “I needed it tonight.”

“You never need to thank me for feeding you,” was the gruff response.

“Have you eaten?”

A pause, a harsh inhale. “I had a burger an hour ago, before I came out for my patrol shift—Chaos made the kids’ favorites today. Burgers and fries and pizza.”

“A healthy spread.”

Laughter, loud and unrestrained. As Valentin should always laugh. His next words, however, were in no way light. “You must’ve had a brutal day. I saw the extent of the disaster on the news bulletins.”

“Too many people died.”

“A lot more people lived.”

Silver realized she’d drunk more than half the nutrient drink. Setting it aside, she unwrapped the protein bar without hanging up on a conversation that should’ve been over in thirty seconds at most. She’d thanked the alpha for his courtesy, achieved the purpose of her call. “Are you running the patrol alone?”

“Yes. Didn’t want to inflict my mood on anyone else.”

Silver knew there were many layers to that statement. Part of it had to do with her, but not all. “Is there a problem in Denhome?”

“Nothing major. Normal idiocy.”

“Tell me.” It was a command.

A grumbling sound came over the line. “I’m the alpha here.”

Silver knew how to hold her own against him by now. “I’m an alpha-in-waiting.”

“Yes, you are.” Was that pride she heard? “Sergey’s having a difficult time accepting he’s no longer part of the command structure. He’s dominant enough that his position as a senior isn’t in doubt, but—”