Nalini Singh: Branded by Fire

“Jacques knows the location,” Adam murmured, the words hazy. “He was . . .”

Naia waved them out as Adam lost consciousness, exiting herself a few minutes later.

“How did Aria die?” Lucas asked.

“Old age.” Naia’s face was sad, and yet there was peace in it. “We knew it was coming. She somehow survived her mate’s death, perhaps because she was wing leader, but the life went out of her—she only lasted six months after he took his last breath. There was no foul play.”

Which made it less likely that someone had targeted Adam. Since neither Lucas nor Hawke liked unknown threats in their territory, they went out with Jacques. What they found was unexpected—spent shells and eight dead men with chips in the backs of their necks.

Mia and Kenyon, one of the SnowDancer boys who’d been among the missing, identified three of the eight as having been involved in their kidnapping.

“I’m going to call Bowen,” Lucas said, “see if he can shed any light on this.”

The Alliance man arrived twenty minutes later, took one look at the dead men, and nodded. “Two of them worked directly for the chairman, probably saw his face.” He bent down by one particular body, sorrow in every line of him. “Damn it, Claude. Why?”

“Your chips seem to have a kill switch,” Lucas said, feeling a stab of pity despite himself. “Their brains are literally leaking out their ears.”

Sorrow morphed into cold rage. “No one told us.”

But the evidence was plain to see. Whether these men had attacked Adam in retaliation for DarkRiver and SnowDancer’s interference in their plans, or whether they’d been given orders to simply cause chaos, it didn’t matter.

Because it seemed the chairman was cleaning house.

Riley hated seeing Mercy so still, so quiet. He could feel her in his soul, a vibrant presence, but in front of him, she was pale, unmoving. Tamsyn was worried about a hidden infection—Mercy should’ve woken by now. Riley’s wolf grew frantic with every passing second. God, he’d just found her. He couldn’t lose her. Who’d jerk his chain when he needed it most? Who’d make him laugh at himself?

He closed his hand around her fingers and squeezed. “Wake up, kitty,” he said, trying to reach the wildness in her. “I need you.” He hadn’t said that to anyone since the day his parents died.

Deep in his soul, he thought he felt a pulse of love, of warmth, but the mating bond was new. He didn’t know if it had been real or if he’d imagined it because he needed it so much. In his hand, her fingers lay quiescent, so unlike the woman he adored with every part of him.

All those years they’d danced around each other, all those insults they’d hurled at each other, all those times they’d stood nose to nose, toe to toe, it had been preparation, he thought. They hadn’t been ready for each other then. But now they were and damn if he was going to let fate steal the future from them.

Getting into bed beside her with effort, he held her to his heart. And then he dropped every remaining shield, every barrier, and willed her to heal.

Bowen and his team left San Francisco two days later, heading for Venice. Bowen had been recalled by the remaining members of the security team. “I can’t believe you’re taking over the chairman’s job,” one of his men said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’ll be making it my own,” Bowen said, his mind full of the images of death. So many of his friends gone, all so the chairman and his cronies could rule supreme. “I will not send my people out like cannon fodder, and I’m through with picking fights just to prove I can beat the big boys. From now on, we do it like the changelings—become so strong within ourselves that no one dares pick fights with us .”

“The temptation, though, Bo,” Lily said. “It’s gonna be a kicker. And you’re not a politician.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Then how come I have the beginnings of a business agreement—maybe more—with the two strongest changeling packs in the United States?”

Lily’s mouth dropped open. “How? I thought you were persona non grata.”

“I fucked up,” Bo said, still angry at himself for his part in terrorizing a child. “But I owned up to it, too. Honesty matters with changelings. When I got recalled, I set up a meet with the alphas and said maybe we could turn a bad start into something good.”

“And they listened?”

“It’s a work in progress. They’ve agreed not to boycott Alliance businesses—it’s a temporary deal, but it’s a deal.” DarkRiver and SnowDancer hadn’t reached where they were without being highly intelligent operators. They were fully capable of slicing away all contact with the Human Alliance—as you would a diseased limb—if Bowen didn’t manage to clean up an organization that had gone from hope to violence on the back of one man.

The chairman had fouled something humans had created after the Territorial Wars as a way to rebuild their lives. Now that powerful business/education network was under fire around the world, with innocent men and women being accused of masterminding violence. Bowen had to prove the Alliance was more than that—first to their members, then to the world. “We’ve broken, Lily,” he said, thinking of Claude. “I want to bring the pieces back together.”

“Do you think you can?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t too late. The chairman’s evil hadn’t yet taken root. “The ‘leadership’ might’ve tried to find glory through war, but we can give our people something concrete—used correctly, the chips could level the playing field once and for all.”

Her nod was slow, her glossy hair reflecting the light. “No one would be able to strip our shields, steal our secrets.” There was old pain in those words, memories of terror.

“Yes.” Bowen squeezed her hand. “I want humans to become integral to the fabric of the world. To do that, we have to be willing to step out of the shadows and take our place on the negotiating table. No more blood.”

His adoptive sister looked at him, a strange clarity in her large gray eyes. “You’re not going to stay security chief for long. You’ll lead.”

On the other side of the world, Tatiana Rika-Smythe rose from a chair and drank two glasses of a protein mix. Her body was close to skeletal. She’d paid a high price for this gamble, but if it had all gone according to plan, she’d now be the sole surviving member of the Council, and no one would’ve considered her a factor in the deaths of her peers. As there were no aspirants strong enough to become Council, she would’ve effectively owned the Net.

At the time, the cost-benefit ratio had seemed satisfactory. That was no longer the case.

I believe you have served your purpose.

She waited as the chairman paused and considered if his chip was faulty.

Your chip is defective. I made sure of it the night I found you—your mental shield makes you careless about more physical means of attack. Such a human failing.

Trembling, the man slid a hand under his hair.

Mind control takes large amounts of energy, and I really can’t spare any more.

The chairman drew himself a bath with no prescience of danger. He was dead five minutes later.

Tatiana sighed in exhaustion as she retook her seat. She would’ve preferred not to lose him—as a tool, he’d been perfect. When she’d found him three weeks ago, his mind had already been full of both hatred toward the Psy, and a willingness to use violence to achieve his aims. All she’d had to do was nudge him until he’d set out to destroy the Council itself.

Every other action, from pushing the kill switch on his men, to going after the changelings, he’d taken on his own. Tatiana had no interest in anything unconnected to the murders of her fellow Councilors. But that very independence of thought had made the chairman too dangerous to leave alive.