Nalini Singh: Play of Passion

“They lost people when they came after Hawke”—Riley’s steady voice again—“and at least one of them was a teleport-capable telekinetic.”

“A scarce resource,” Anthony agreed. “It may prove a set-back to their plans—but a small one. As Tks have one of the most dangerous abilities, they tend to most strongly embrace the Protocol.”

Giving the Scotts a powerful pool of assassins.

“Ming and Kaleb may assist us when the Scotts strike,” Nikita added. “But only if that assistance serves their own interests.”

“Some assistance,” Hawke said, “we don’t need.”

Andrew agreed. Ming LeBon, by all accounts, was a sociopath masquerading as a Councilor. Kaleb Krychek was harder to pin down, which might simply mean he was better at hiding his crimes—because according to the intel Andrew had unearthed, Kaleb Krychek had been mentored by the same sadistic killer who’d not only tortured Brenna, but killed a number of other young changeling women.

“Yes,” Nikita said, “so any defensive measures we take will have to be based on our own resources. I have a not insignificant pool of strong telepaths under my direct command, but the primary asset I bring to the table is my considerable economic strength. I am already in the process of strangling some of the Scotts’ finances.”

Anthony, it went without saying, brought his foreseers to the table.

“Have you considered a preemptive strike?” Hawke asked, and Andrew recalled the “warning tap” they’d discussed not long ago.

Anthony nodded. “However, they have a strong advantage on home ground. The opposite is true here.”

A long, silent pause broken by Hawke. “Another meeting. One week.”

“Very well.” Anthony inclined his head, the threads of silver at his temples catching the light. “There is one more thing you should know. Every strong F-Psy in the NightStar Group has made at least one spontaneous nonbusiness prediction over the past month, a highly unusual event.”

“What did they see?” Lucas asked.

“Blood and death and fire. Over and over, with no alternate futures logged. Whatever we decide at the next meeting, I do not believe any of us will escape the coming holocaust.”

Drew patted Indigo’sbutt as she lay sprawled over him later that night. “I think I’m dead.” He squeezed her toned flesh with blatant possessiveness. “And this is my idea of heaven.”

Well aware she had to keep a watch on those sneaky steamroller tactics of his, Indigo gave a half hearted growl, but she was too sated to work up any real outrage.

“I like seeing you this way.” He petted her ass again before beginning to draw designs on her lower back with a desultory finger. “All pleasured and warm and mine.”

Possessive demon. But she was the same, so she couldn’t complain. Yawning, she snuggled closer, her eyes heavy lidded. His body was hot and muscled under her touch, his heartbeat still a little erratic, and his scent . . .

Her wolf rolled into a happy little ball, but she dragged up the willpower to say, “I thought Lara ordered you to rest.” He’d literally ambushed her as she walked in the door, his mouth on hers and his body inside hers before she could corral her brain cells into objecting.

He kissed her again. “I decided pouncing on you sounded like more fun.”

Smiling against his mouth, she stroked her hand over his ribs. “That was some meeting, huh?”

“Especially that last comment by Anthony.” Shifting to accommodate Indigo when she tangled her legs with his, Andrew played his fingers through her hair. “Cats say Faith confirmed the prediction.” And Faith NightStar was the strongest foreseer in or out of the PsyNet.

Indigo circled a finger over his chest. “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it. SnowDancer hasn’t survived this long to fall to the Councilors’ megalomania.” Another lazy circle. “I couldn’t read Hawke—guess we’ll find out what he thinks at the lieutenant meeting tomorrow.”

“I kept expecting him to get up and tear out someone’s jugular today.”

Indigo laughed. “You sound so disappointed.”

“He’s acting reasonable. It’s vaguely terrifying.”

This time, Indigo’s laughter was long and deep. Shifting onto her back, she untangled their legs and looped her arms around his neck as he rose over her. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me.” Rubbing his nose against hers, he felt his wolf stretch out inside him in naked pleasure.

She nipped at his chin, dropped a kiss onto his lips. “Yeah. The day you begin behaving, I’ll know I have an impostor on my hands.” Playing her fingers into his hair, she swung a leg over his hip. “I’ve been thinking about what we’re going to do with the traveling you have to do for your position in the pack.”

“My team’s got things under control for now,” Drew said, his eyes such a clear blue that she felt bathed in sunlight.

“But they need you.” Pride was a fierce beat inside of her, for this wolf who was smart enough, strong enough, to reach their most vulnerable. “With Riaz here, in the den, I can come on a lot of the trips with you.”

Drew blinked, his lashes long and beautiful. “If Riley is Hawke’s right arm, you’re his left. He needs you here. Especially now.”

“I’ve spoken to him.” She pulled him down against her, enjoying the all over contact. Such exquisite skin privileges.

“We won’t be gone for months at a time; you’ve got your network set up now.”

“That’s true. But I’m still going to need to make a lot of short trips—especially to San Diego. Seb is damn strong,” he said of his replacement in that sector, “but he’s younger than me.”

“We can play those times by ear,” Indigo said, knowing she’d miss him when he was away, but also knowing the mating bond would ensure she was never lonely.

A long, quiet pause. Then, “Indy?”

Hearing the edge in his tone, she nuzzled a kiss against his neck. “What is it?”

“You were put in a situation where you had to accept the mating bond,” Drew said, shadows whispering over the clarity of his gaze when she looked up. “Do you regret it?”

She knew exactly how much it had to have cost him to ask that. “The only thing I regret is not being able to end the mating dance as I planned.”

A spark in the blue. “You had a plan?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Tell.” Fingers dancing over her abdomen, threatening to tickle.

“Well,” she said, brushing her lips against his ear, “it involved tying you naked to my bed, having my wicked way with you in revenge for all your crazy-making tactics . . . and then telling you that you belong to me. Forever. No outs. No givebacks.”

Drew thrust his hand into her hair, his gaze gone that startling wolf-copper. “Tell me now.”

She did. And then, because she was in a good mood and she adored him and he’d taught her about opening her heart, she whispered more love words in his ear, until he broke every single one of Lara’s rules and drove them both to heaven a second time around.