She’d accepted those truths, even begun to see that perhaps she could help people no one else could reach, but she didn’t know if she could take more. Learning that she was hurting the Net, it’d be one blow too many.

When Alexei took her hand and said, “Give us a minute,” to the others, she didn’t resist, and they walked off a short distance into the shadow of the trees.

“What’s got you tense?”

Her answer had him growling. Before she could tell him to stop it, he said, “Sometimes, mate, you make me want to bite you.” He put his hands on her hips and tugged her close. “Why would the PsyNet hold on to you if you were bad for it?”

She parted her lips to growl back at him . . . and realized he was right. Why hadn’t the PsyNet dropped her like a hot potato when she mated Alexei and had another available network to which to link? Why had it held on to her when she was a strange E who worked with psychopaths and couldn’t do much to heal the Net? Who just took energy and gave none of it back?

“I’m not saying you’re right,” she said, poking Alexei in the abs, “but I’m going to do what Ivy Jane said and try to talk to this NetMind.”

Her wolf smiled a smug smile. “I’m right.”

Glaring at him had no effect. She loved that about him—she didn’t think she could bear it if Alexei ever actually got mad at her. The growling and the snarling, she could handle any day of the week. It was all a front, Alexei trying to keep people at bay because he believed he’d eventually let them down.

Memory had an idea of how to take care of that problem, but first, she’d deal with this. Walking out of the trees, she came to a stop across from Ivy Jane and the woman with dark blue eyes and a warm smile who’d arrived with Kaleb. Memory had seen her on the comm while in the bunker: Sahara Kyriakus. A woman linked to Kaleb by a devoted love no empath could fail to sense.

“Show me how to talk to the NetMind,” she said to Ivy Jane, whose bond with Vasic was as intense but had different colors to it.

“Just ask. It really likes Es.”

Squaring her shoulders, Memory tightened her grip on Alexei’s hand and, closing her eyes, peeked out into the PsyNet. Um, NetMind? Braced for silence, for failure, she physically staggered at the joyous welcome that poured into her mind.

Flashfire images of flowers, of rain, of bright splashes of light, of rushing rivers, of stars glittering in the sky, of a waterfall slamming into a pond.

Her eyes snapped open. She pressed a hand to her heart, her breath rough.

“Memory?”

“I’m fine.” She reassured her mate through their bond. “It’s just . . .”

“I should’ve warned you.” Ivy Jane winced, her lovely eyes penitent. “It can be a little enthusiastic the first few times. Just tell it to go slow. Use images.”

Nodding, Memory returned to the PsyNet and felt an eager, curious presence around her. She slowed down all the images it had sent her and fed it back to the neosentience. The response she received was slower . . . but it wasn’t from the original presence. This being was darker, colder, infinitely deadly.

Memory didn’t push it away. It was like her. If the other Es were the NetMind, she was this darkness. “I see the DarkMind,” she murmured without opening her eyes.

“It’s never caused harm to an E.” Kaleb Krychek’s midnight voice.

“No, it won’t hurt me.” She sent out her greeting again, this time to both presences. They were, she realized, not quite separate anymore, even if they’d once been; one merged into the other at the very edges.

What am I? she asked, trying to send the question in images.

??? The lack of comprehension was followed by more images of water. Rain, fresh and ozone-rich on her skin, the cool ripples of a lake sliding against her body, a river sending up spray as it broke around a rock.

Are you cleaning me? Blood suddenly scalding in her veins, she showed them an image of her under a shower, scrubbing. Her expression was angry. She might not be perfect, but no one had the right to change her!

But the image was returned to her, with her scrubbing the walls of the shower.

Memory opened her eyes. “I’m cleaning the walls of the shower.” She scratched her head.

Vasic said, “Will you telepath us the image?”

Since Memory had imagined herself clothed in that shower, she had no problem doing so. While they considered the meaning of the exchange, she described what she’d seen to Alexei. The aggravating wolf actually rolled his eyes at her. “Lioness, like I said—you take the bad out of things. Obviously, you’re taking the sickness out of the PsyNet. Like a purifying filter.”

Everyone else went still.

Memory’s heart kicked. “A filter.” It was such a clear way to describe what she did, especially if she factored Amara’s erratic displays of empathic behavior. It could be said that Memory had filtered out enough psychopathy that a droplet of emotion was able to fall through.

This time, when she entered the PsyNet, she sent out an image of herself on the PsyNet, scrubbing at a badly damaged section. The NetMind returned the image back to her, altered slightly. She now saw cracks in the area she’d “scrubbed”—but the section was whole again. The crack was a scar, strong, not weak.

Show me, Memory said. I want to try. She projected an image of herself standing with cleaning supplies, in a ready stance, and when the NetMind and DarkMind tugged at her, she went. “I’m running an experiment,” she said aloud.

Two other Psy minds appeared in the Net—Ivy Jane and Kaleb Krychek.

The two followed her as the twin neosentience took her to a part of the Net that was in danger of fatal collapse. It had been cordoned off, no minds anchored inside it, and though the golden threads of the Honeycomb crisscrossed it in a thick mesh, it was barely holding together. Kneeling beside it, Memory realized she had no idea what to do, and went with the image she had; she put a scrubbing brush in her hand—and began to clean.

She didn’t know how long it took, but she was leaning up against Alexei’s chest by the time she finished. The damage hadn’t been erased . . . but it was better. Scars had begun to form. Two or three more scrubs and she might be able to return it to a level of strength viable enough to support Psy minds.

A pulse along the mating bond, her mate calling her back.

She went, because she would always answer Alexei’s call as he would hers. That’s what it meant to love. Opening her eyes, she would’ve swayed if he hadn’t been holding her tight. “It takes a lot of energy.”

Alexei shoved a granola bar into her hand and muttered that he was going to start carrying around nutrient bars if she kept losing weight in front of him.

“Flavored,” she reminded him as she tore open the granola bar.

He kissed her temple.

“Checks and balances,” Sahara murmured. “The NetMind has always kept the PsyNet stable—even when Psy were going insane a hundred years ago, the Net itself was stable. We broke that stability with Silence. The NetMind couldn’t keep up.”

Ivy Jane nodded, the soft dark of her hair glinting in the sunlight. “Pre-Silence it makes sense that it had a few Es like Memory, who could consciously or subconsciously repair any damage.”

“The ability to filter psychopathy is the secondary ability,” Alexei said with his usual clarity. “It’s the one that freaked out Es in the past, but it’s not an E-sigma’s primary function.”

E-sigma. That’s me. Wonder made her float for a glorious second before despair crashed her to the ground. “It’s too big.” Memory took another bite of the granola bar, swallowed. “The damage is too much. I can do small areas, but I can’t do the entire Net.” The task needed hundreds of thousands of her. “I feel on the edge of flameout. It may take days to recover.” Her psychic veins were sluggish, the energy not even trickling in at this point.

“Show me what you saw when you cleaned.” Krychek, in that cold dark voice that made her nape prickle.

Frowning because he’d been right there, Memory nonetheless telepathed him the image. “It’s not even the size of a room.”

Ivy Jane stared at her, then glanced at Kaleb. It was the cardinal who spoke. “Your mind must telescope the sections to make it easier to visualize. Ivy and I witnessed a vast section of the PsyNet ripple with black light. An area big enough—and now nearly strong enough—to support a thousand minds.”

Memory actually squeaked. “A thousand?” She leaned back into Alexei, needing his solid warmth as an anchor.

Ivy Jane nodded. “It’s the most astonishing thing I’ve ever seen.” Her voice was breathless.

A thousand was amazing, but the PsyNet held millions of minds.

As if reading her bleak thoughts, Kaleb said, “Triage. If I work with the Arrows to give you a map, can you attempt to strengthen the most critical areas with the largest populations?”

Memory nodded even as her throat closed up. “Yes, I’ll help.” She’d seen the true scale of the problem during her time connected with the NetMind and DarkMind, the horror of it. “Millions could die, couldn’t they?”

Alexei’s arms tightened around her as Krychek said, “We’re holding on, but it’s going to become critical sooner rather than later.”

“You’ve just bought us an incredible amount of time.” Sahara’s gaze held a fierce hope. “Even another year could mean everything.”

Memory’s heart ached for all the lives that hung in the balance. She would survive, she knew that—Alexei’s wolf would haul her into the SnowDancer network that held Judd and his family, but so many others had no option but the PsyNet. “I forgot to ask about why the NetMind’s hiding the mating bond.”

“You’re exhausted,” Alexei said with a scowl. “It can wait.”

“Yes, that’s not critical,” Sahara reassured her. “It’s more a curiosity.”