Very young at the time, Aden had forgotten the entire conversation until this moment when he stood face-to-face with twins who appeared to have an ability that only worked in concert.

“I need to act now,” Pax Marshall said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be rational.”

Aden stepped aside so the two could enter Yuri’s room. There was no need to warn them their lives hung in the balance—they knew. Though the sister wouldn’t be hurt unless she did direct harm to Yuri.

Arrows were no longer monsters.

Marshall put one palm on Yuri’s temple. His sister echoed him on the fallen Arrow’s other side. Then the two connected hands over Yuri’s chest. They didn’t speak as they closed their eyes, but on the psychic plane, Aden saw energy sparking through Yuri’s mind.

The other man wasn’t brain-dead—if that had been the case, Aden would’ve made the hard call the very first day. No, the senior Arrow was in a gray no-man’s-land between life and death, the damage done to his brain catastrophic, but not enough to kill him. Aden and Vasic were maintaining his shields.

And because they were, Aden could see what the twins were doing.

Pax was the more powerful by far, but he was only the conduit—and the source of the raw material. It was Theodora who was somehow taking Pax’s psychic energy and using it to weave something from nothing. She was building neural material with a delicacy Aden hadn’t ever seen. Only Judd came close. Another Tk who could move minuscule components with his mind.

Clenching his gut, he maintained the shield. When Vasic joined him in the hospital room an hour later, they switched on and off as per their plan to ensure the shield was never less than impenetrable.

The operation took hours.

The sister collapsed first, Marshall a second later. Both were caught instinctively by Vasic using his telekinesis. He lowered them gently to the floor just as Yuri’s mental activity spiked so sharply across the neural monitoring system that it set off an alarm.

Chapter 59

Long-sleeved black shirt with fine silver pinstripes.

—Order placed by Memory Aven-Rose

MEMORY COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d allowed Aden to talk her into this. “I don’t know Pax Marshall and he hurt people I care about,” she said to Alexei. “I don’t want to help him.” She’d tried that one time in Chinatown, but she’d changed her mind in the interim, her anger growing with each hour Yuri’d spent fighting for his life.

“Okay. Want to go home?” No sarcasm, just wolfish acceptance of her anger.

“Ugh.” She kicked at the grass on the outskirts of DarkRiver territory. “Aden says Yuri is awake.” Joy had her eyes burning all over again.

The senior Arrow apparently had some memory loss. About a month’s worth. As a result, he didn’t remember Memory. That was all right—she’d make friends with him again, starting with when she went to visit him with her gift of a stylish new shirt. She’d also remind him about the whole being-asked-out-on-a-date situation, to nudge the romance back into gear.

All that mattered was that Yuri was awake. It was a miracle—but it still didn’t make her feel positive toward this Pax Marshall. “I don’t even know what I’m meant to do.”

Alexei hauled her close for a kiss. “Want me to tear the asshole’s head off?”

Memory considered it for long enough that his eyes gleamed amber. “No,” she grumbled at last. “But only because of his twin—she helped Yuri, even though she had nothing to do with hurting him. I’m doing this because we owe her, not him.”

A sleek black vehicle turned into the meeting spot. Pax Marshall, aristocratically handsome with an expression like ice, emerged from the driver’s side. From the passenger side came Theodora Marshall: half a foot shorter than her brother, slender where he was muscled, with more delicate features and longer hair.

The clear blue eyes, however, were identical.

Memory flinched at Pax’s psychic presence, so dark and familiar. “What do you expect me to do for you?” she demanded.

“I don’t know.” His English accent took her by surprise. “But if this fails, my only other option is a planned and smoothly executed suicide.” Memory was concentrating on Pax, but it was Theo’s jolt of pain that had her throat closing up. “I won’t take Theo down with me. She’s already suffering bad migraines and nosebleeds.”

It was hard to keep on fully disliking a man who appeared to love his twin. His shields were locked down so tight she couldn’t feel the emotion, and it could be that he was a world-class manipulator. But Theo wasn’t. And it hurt her to think of Pax dying.

Memory held out a hand. “I need physical contact.”

The telepath touched his hand to hers. Braced for the nothingness, she was startled by the subtle “wrongness” in him. He wasn’t a psychopath, but neither was he normal in the psychic sense. Not sure this would work, she gave him some of her empathic energy—what Amara drew from her in a session.

Hissing out a breath, he dropped her hand.

When she flicked open her eyes, it was to see that Pax had his eyes scrunched shut, one hand at his temple. His twin was close to him, her features stark. “Pax?”

Pax’s lashes lifted . . . and Memory realized belatedly that the twins were connected on an emotional level. It was hidden deep, so deep they might not realize it, but it was very much there. That was why Theo was getting headaches and nosebleeds. Pax’s brain was automatically reaching out to her during the episodes.

He must’ve telepathed his sister because her breath eased. Then he looked at Memory. “The sudden clarity took me by surprise.” His pulse thudded in his neck. “I hadn’t realized exactly how cloudy my thinking had become.”

“Is the effect permanent?” Theo Marshall asked on a wave of naked hope.

“No, I don’t think so.” Memory didn’t know how to heal Pax or if it was even possible. Her entire ability was one unknown after another . . . but things were becoming clearer with each day. “I suggest,” she said to Pax, “that you form a strong emotional bond with your twin.” It wouldn’t be difficult, not with what already existed. “She’ll know when the regression begins and you need another dose.” As good a word as any, she supposed.

Pax Marshall looked to his twin. Neither spoke except to thank Memory, though Memory knew the constant vigilance would wear on them both. She wished she could comfort Theodora in some way, but right now, this was the best she had.

It wasn’t until after they’d driven out that Alexei said, “Has it struck you that an incredibly powerful man in the PsyNet is now in your control?”

“No.” She poked him in the abdomen. “And it’s not going to strike you, either. This is between me and Theo. Don’t you dare use any of this to lean on Pax during negotiations.”

“Empath.” Alexei scowled and shook his head. “Soft as butter.”

“I am not.” Turning on her heel, she gripped the front of his T-shirt. “Talking of which, we need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m tired of you jerking awake in the middle of the night.” Furious at his pain and the way he continued to hurt himself imagining the worst.

“I thought the honeymoon period would last longer.” It was a grumble. “But if it bothers you, I can sleep on the couch.”

“Ugh!” Memory grabbed hold of his hand. “You’re coming with me.”

He didn’t resist, a slight curve to his mouth. “So no separate sleeping?”

“Just try to go to the couch and see what happens,” she threatened. “Today, you drive where I tell you to drive.” She hadn’t yet learned the skill, though she was down to do so in two months’ time in Alexei’s home den. Alexei had introduced her to the packmates in that den via the comm, and the teens were delighted that she and another older packmate were going to be joining their driver’s ed class.

He’d also introduced her to his aunt and her family. Clementine “Min” Harte had arrived at the Sierra Nevada den a day later. “To welcome my Lexie’s mate properly.” The honed SnowDancer soldier’s hug had been fierce, and she’d brought with her the gift of a sparkling bracelet. “I heard your abductor allowed your familial history to be destroyed.” A lopsided smile. “No secrets in a pack.”

Memory had no argument with that; she wanted to live her life in the open, in the light.

“I can’t bring back that history,” Alexei’s young aunt had said, “but I can start you off on creating your own history to pass on to your pups. This bracelet belonged to my sister, Lexie’s mother.” Warm hands cupping Memory’s face. “I saved it for Lexie’s mate.”

Memory’s eyes had filled, spilled over. “It means so much.” Clementine Harte could have no idea of the depth of her joy at being so deeply accepted by Alexei’s family. “Thank you.” She knew without asking that Clementine had given another piece to Etta. It hurt her heart that she’d never meet the lost young woman, but she would get to know her from Alexei’s stories of his brother and Brodie’s mate.

“There’s no need to thank me.” Clementine had kissed her forehead. “We’re family now. You two are expected at the dinner table every week once Lexie’s back in our den.”

In her, Memory had seen where Alexei got his stubborn will and calm control. Today, however, she was the one who planned to be stubborn. “Go left,” she instructed. “There’s another path to the right after that.”

“Bossy mate,” Alexei grumbled, but he followed her instructions . . . until he brought the vehicle to a sudden halt.

“Memory.” His hands clenched on the steering wheel.

“You have to go.” She put her hand on his forearm, loving but determined. “Keelie Schaeffer is the closest thing changelings have to an expert on rogues.”