Psy & Changelings 01 - Slave to Sensation
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âSheâs held on to her Council seat for more than a decade because other Psy, even cardinals, are terrified of her. The womanâs a seriously powerful telepath.â He folded his arms across his chest, the small tattoo on his right biceps clearly visible. An echo of the markings on Lucasâs face, it was a quiet statement of where his loyalty lay. All of the sentinels had followed the jaguarâs lead, though Lucas hadnât asked it of them. Lucasâs own upper arm bore the image of a hunting leopard, the promise of an alpha to his pack.
âThatâs not unusual enough to scare people,â Dorian pointed out. Nothing about him indicated that he was latent and people had learned not to taunt him, because when Dorian bit, you didnât survive.
âNo,â Vaughn agreed. âBut her talent has a little twist. She can infect other minds with viruses.â
âRun that by me again?â Mercy sat up on one of the huge flat cushions that served as Lucasâs sofas and pushed back her thick waist-length hair. âA virus?â
âApparently itâs like a computer virus but affects the mind of the person itâs directed at. The rumor on the street is that Nikita rose to the Council by quietly getting rid of the competition.â Steel lay beneath Vaughnâs deceptive drawl.
âSeveral cardinals suffered mysterious breakdowns or deaths around the time of her ascension. Nothing could be traced to her and the general consensus is that that only increased her cachet with the then sitting Councilors. Murder is an accepted part of Nikitaâs arsenal.â
Lucas prowled around the room. âWeâve always assumed the entire Council was in on it, but even if weâre wrong and some members donât know, Vaughnâs information makes it highly unlikely that Nikita doesnât.â
And if Nikita knew, then it was almost impossible that Sascha, her cardinal heir, didnât. He was having trouble accepting her complicity in the cover-upâthe panther in him was captivated by her, and he didnât want to be captivated by cruelty. âSascha is our way in.â
Clay, whoâd been sitting silently on a window ledge, finally spoke. âCan we break her?â
Lucas knew what the sentinel was asking. Nobody on the changeling side was willing to play nice anymore, not after eight of their women had been butchered in the most brutal way.
âWe donât torture women.â He made his voice a whip.
âI was talking about sex.â At thirty-four years of age, the dark-skinned sentinel was the only other packmate, aside from Nate and Vaughn, who knew the full details of that blood-soaked night that had turned Lucas from juvenile to alpha in everything but name. âWomen are drawn to you. Can you use that against her?â
Dorian laughed. âYou donât know the Psy, Clay. Theyâre about as vulnerable to sex as I am to mating with a SnowDancer.â
Lucas let the idea wash over him. Seducing Sascha was a strangely compelling idea. His body recognized hers in a way that made not touching her an exercise in restraint. The panther wanted to lay her down and luxuriate in the essence of her femininity, while the man wanted to shatter the shell she lived inside and discover the real woman. What made him wary was the possibility of learning that she was rotten to the core, daughter to a woman whoâd killed with cold brilliance.
âWe go in slow. Donât tip them off,â he told the sentinels. âLet them think weâre just animals.â
Too bad if the Psy had forgotten that animals had teeth . . . and claws.
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Lucas shifted into panther form after the sentinels had disbanded, and went for a run. A second after he set out, he knew that one of them was following him. The sentinels existed to protect him but they werenât his bodyguardsâno leopard liked to be babysat. Clay was good enough to have hidden his scent if heâd wanted to. The fact that he hadnât meant he was asking permission to join his alpha.
Circling back, Lucas came close to sneaking up on the sentinel, but he moved out of reach a bare instant before Lucas dropped down from the tree limb heâd been padding along. They greeted each other with throaty rumbles and then set off. It was something beyond price to run like this, to let the night air whisper along his fur, to blend into the
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