Psy & Changelings 02 - Visions of Heat

Lucas’s chest. “But that is unusual—did she do it with any skill?”
    “Smooth as a cat.” It was the highest compliment Vaughn knew how to give. “Like she’d done it before.”
    “Odd. And she said she wanted to see me?”
    “Yes.” There was no way Vaughn was going to take Sascha out there and he knew Lucas wouldn’t allow it either. Psy couldn’t be trusted. Not even pretty redheaded Psy with skin as soft as cream.
    Sascha’s night-sky eyes unfocused for an eerie second. “What did she look like?”
    “Red hair.” He’d never seen hair that deeply red, that luxuriously silky. The cat had wanted to play with it while the man had wanted to do much, much more intimate things. “Cardinal eyes.”
    Sascha stood up ruler-straight. “It can’t be. Impossible.”
    Both men watched as she started to pace around the aerie. Vaughn felt Lucas’s possessiveness as if it were a physical being between them and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of where that emotion might spring from.
    “What is it, Sascha?” Lucas caught her around the waist as she passed.
    She leaned into the embrace. “I could be wrong, but red hair is common in one particular family in this area of the Psy. The NightStar line has an unusually high incidence of the recessive gene.” Sascha sounded utterly Psy at that moment. That was to be expected. She hadn’t been cat for much more than a few months. It would take time.
    “NightStar line?” Lucas played his fingers through her hair.
    “They’re a group of related families who operate under the PsyClan NightStar.”
    “You said PsyClans were utilized by F-Psy.” Vaughn crossed his arms, his fingers tingling with the urge to know what it would be like to comb through the flame-red silk of a woman who climbed as well as any she-cat he knew.
    She nodded. “The NightStar family has a history of producing F-Psy. They’re rare, but NightStar has always had at least one in every generation. Some weak, some powerful. The only cardinal I know of in this entire region is Faith NightStar.”
    Faith.
    He tested the name on his tongue and it fit, felt right. “Her name is the same as her PsyClan?”
    “Yes. I’m not sure why, but that’s how it works for them. They align themselves to the PsyClan as a whole rather than to their individual families.” She bit her lip. “Cardinal eyes and red hair plus an isolated location—it could be Faith, but I don’t know every Psy in the area.”
    “You’ve never met her?” It was Lucas who asked.
    “No. The F-Psy are like shadows. People rarely see them. Even lower Gradients are considered too important to be left unprotected.”
    “Why would an F-Psy want to see you?” Lucas looked at Vaughn. “She say anything else?”
    “No. But she’s been waiting for over an hour and a half now if she’s where I left her.” And for some reason, that made Vaughn edgy. “We need to take care of this.”
    “I want to speak to her,” Sascha said.
    “Absolutely not.”
    “No.”
    Both men spoke simultaneously, Lucas with the protective instincts of a mate and Vaughn with those of a sentinel. Sascha rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You two still haven’t figured it out, have you? I’m never going to turn tame.”
    Lucas scowled.
    “Neither of you knows how to deal with her, how to ask the questions that need to be asked. Vaughn probably terrified her into silence anyway.” She turned those night-sky eyes on him.
    “Psy don’t feel fear.” But her wrist had been very delicate under his teeth. “She’s much smaller than you.” And despite her height, Sascha was already fragile in comparison to the changelings.
    Sascha nodded. “That would fit if she really is one of the F-Psy. Let’s go. And don’t even argue about it.”
    The low growl came from Lucas. Vaughn wisely left the room and went out onto the platform, using the chance to get out of his jeans—leaving the watch tucked safety inside—and shift. He was waiting there when Lucas and Sascha exited.
    “Head out and scout the area. Sascha and I will be behind you in the car.” Lucas didn’t sound pleased and Vaughn couldn’t blame him. “If you scent anything , let Sascha know.”
    Vaughn nodded. Sascha was now connected to the sentinels through the Web of Stars, a mental network that Vaughn wasn’t completely comfortable with, but which did have its uses. Though they couldn’t communicate telepathically, they could send each other emotions, feelings. That in