Nalini Singh: Caressed by Ice

Writingis a solitary business but it’s not a lonely one, especially not when you’re surrounded by as many wonderful people as I am.

At home: My family, the ones who have to put up with my single-minded focus when I’m working and who do it in such style. Thanks for not making me cook or clean…or vacuum…or do the laundry…I love you guys!

On a California beach sipping a margarita (well, she might be if she didn’t have obsessive-compulsive clients): Nephele Tempest, my agent and the first person to tell me she loved my Psy/Changeling world. Thanks for being such a great advocate for my work. If we ever manage to meet in person, the margaritas are on me!

At my publisher: Cindy Hwang, my brilliant editor and someone who gives me the freedom to follow my imagination wherever it takes me; Leis Pederson, superefficient editorial assistant (and someone who is probably sick of hearing my voice after those marathon editing session over the phone!); and the Sensation al behind-the-scenes team. A huge thank-you for everything you’ve done since the very first book in the Psy/Changeling series.

In unknown locations: All the booksellers, readers, reviewers, librarians, and bloggers who have supported my books to date. If I tried to list you all, I’d run out of room, which, I think, is an amazing, humbling thing. Thank you.

Outside the door demanding I come out or they’re going to drag me out: My friends, who put up with my hermitlike tendencies without crossing me off their invitation lists. You know who you are. I feel blessed to have you in my life.

And inside my head: My characters, who let me tell their stories. Thank you.

Mercurywas a cult. That was what everyone said at the start. The Psy laughed at Catherine and Arif Adelaja’s claims of being able to free their people from insanity and murderous fury.

To be Psy was to court the edges of madness.

It was accepted. It was accepted.

There was no cure.

But then Mercury produced two graduates of their early version of the Silence Protocol—the Adelajas’ own twin sons. Tendaji and Naeem Adelaja were as cool as ice, their emotions holding nothing of anger or madness…for a while. The experiment eventually failed. The dark side of emotion rushed back into the Adelaja twins in an avalanche, and, sixteen years after being heralded as the harbingers of a new future, they committed suicide. Tendaji, the strong one, killed Naeem then himself. There was no doubt that it had been a mutual decision.

They left a note.

We are an abomination, a plague that will kill our people from within. Silence must never take root, must never infiltrate the PsyNet. Forgive us .

Their words were never heard, their terror never understood. Found by acolytes of Mercury, they were buried in a hidden grave, their deaths termed an accident. By then, Mercury had begun training a second generation, improving their technique, refining the tools with which to excise unwanted emotion from the heart and madness from the soul. The most important change was the quietest—this time, they had the cautious support of the leaders of their people, the Psy Council.

But they also needed support of another kind, the kind that would catch any other lapses and mistakes before they made it to the public domain…and to the ears of the still-skeptical Council. If the Councilors had found out about the continuing deaths, they would have pulled back. And the Adelajas could not bear the thought of their vision being consigned to the trash heap of history. Because, though shattered by the deaths of their twin sons, Catherine and Arif never lost faith in Silence. Neither did their eldest son—Zaid.

Zaid was a cardinal telepath with a furious ability in mental combat. He, too, had trained under Silence, but as a young adult, not a child. Still, he believed. The Protocol had given him peace from the demons of his mind and he wanted to spread that gift of peace, to quiet the torment of his people. So he began cleaning up the mistakes, wiping away those who broke under the experimental versions of Silence, burying their lives as efficiently as he buried their bodies.

Catherine called him her Martial Arrow.

Soon, Zaid recruited others like him. Others who believed. They were loners, unknown shadows, darker than the darkness, men and women whose sole aim was to eliminate anything that might threaten the successful realization of Catherine and Arif’s lifelong dream.

Time passed. Years. Decades. Zaid Adelaja was washed from this Earth, but the torch of the Arrows continued to be handed from one acolyte to the next…until there was no more Mercury and the long-dead Adelajas were being hailed as visionaries.

The Silence Protocol was implemented in the year 1979.

The Psy Council was unanimous in its vote, the masses divided, but the majority in favor. Their people were killing each other and themselves with rage and inhumanity unseen in any of the other races. Silence seemed their only hope, their only solution for a lasting peace. But would they have taken that step had they read Tendaji and Naeem’s last words? There is no one left who can answer that question.

As no one can answer why a protocol meant to bring peace also brought with it the coldest, most dangerous kind of violence—rumors of the Arrow Squad spawned on the heels of the implementation process, fed by the fear of minds going under Silence. It was said that those who protested too hard had a habit of simply disappearing.

Now, in the final months of the year 2079, the Arrows are a myth, a legend, their existence or nonexistence debated endlessly in the PsyNet. To the naysayers, the post-Silence Psy Council is a perfect creation, one that would never do anything as underhanded as create a secret squad to take care of its enemies.

But others know differently.

Others have seen the dark streaks of highly martial minds shooting through the Net, felt the cold chill of their psychic blades. But of course, these others cannot speak. Those who come into contact with the Arrow Squad rarely live to tell the tale.

The Arrows themselves do not heed the rumors, do not consider their secret army a death squad. No, they have remained true to their founding father. Their only loyalty is to the Silence Protocol and they are dedicated to its continuance.

Executions are sometimes unavoidable.

A fist crashedinto Judd’s cheekbone. Focused on eliminating his opponent from the field, he barely noticed the impact, his own fist already swinging out. Tai tried to evade the blow at the last second but it was too late—the young wolf’s jaw slammed together with a thick sound that spoke of damage on the inside.

But he wasn’t down.

Baring teeth stained red from a cut on his top lip, he rushed at Judd, clearly aiming to use his heavier build as a battering ram to smash his adversary into the hard stone wall. Instead it was Tai who ended up with his back slammed against the stone, his mouth falling open as air punched out of his lungs in an uncontrollable blast.

Judd gripped the other male by the throat. “Killing you would mean nothing to me,” he said, tightening his hold until Tai had to be having trouble breathing. “Would you like to die?” His tone was calm, his breathing modulated. It was a state of being that had nothing to do with feeling, because unlike the changeling across from him, Judd Lauren did not feel.