Psy & Changelings 02 - Visions of Heat

never get caught, baby. If I can infiltrate the SnowDancer den without tipping them off, then this is child’s play.”
    “There are Psy guards, able to scan the area for signs of sentient life.”
    “These forests are changeling territory—they have to know we’re going to keep an eye on them. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy.” But he was delighted by her concern, for that was definitely what he’d sniffed in the air.
    “I simply don’t want to mess up my next meeting with Sascha. If you’re caught, they’ll put me under tougher surveillance.” Her skin was soft, but her spine as straight as a rod.
    He brushed his lips over her cheek. She gasped and moved away. “Go, Red. The guards are at the optimal distance.”
    She ran quickly to the fence and scaled it with smooth feminine grace. Oh yeah, she’d definitely make things very interesting in bed. And he had every intention of getting her there. The taste of her on his lips was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever felt.
    She landed on her feet on the other side and looked back as if searching for him. He allowed his eyes to go night-glow in the forest and knew the instant she spotted him. Then she was gone, hidden behind the fences of the Psy world.
    Good thing cats were excellent climbers.
     
    Early the next morning, Faith shored up her shields against the endless mass of the PsyNet and took a step out of her bedroom. As she’d expected, the chime of the incoming call didn’t cease. The M-Psy were checking up on her well before her three-day rest period was officially over. If she didn’t answer, they’d likely take it as justification to enter her home.
    In the past, that knowledge had settled her—if a vision went wrong, they’d be there to pick up the pieces. But today, the lack of privacy, the lack of her ability to live any kind of a real life, made her—She had no word to describe her reaction. No word that didn’t imply feeling, the one thing she couldn’t embrace.
    She pressed the answer key on the touch pad. “Yes?”
    The composed face of one of Xi Yun’s underlings looked back at her. “You didn’t answer our two earlier calls. We wished to ensure you were conscious and rational.”
    Because F-Psy had a habit of becoming irrational and mad.
    Faith realized the M-Psy always subtly pointed that out, never letting her forget the threat looming over her head.
    Tell a child something often enough and she starts to believe it.
    Sascha’s words whispered through her mind and refused to let her return to the isolated, accepting state she’d been in before she’d breached the fence. And run headfirst into the most dangerous predator she could imagine.
    “While I accept your need to ensure my safety, I gave notice that I would not be available for three days. That period doesn’t end till this evening. Is that so difficult to understand?” Her voice was cold, a knife forged in the fires of isolation. “Or would you like me to have you transferred and replaced with someone who understands my statements?” She’d never threatened any such thing in the past, but the nameless awakening thing inside of her would not be quiet over this latest threat to her independence.
    The M-Psy blinked. “My apologies, Foreseer. I will not make this error again.”
    He’d also log in her unusual behavior and put her down for a complete physical. Faith turned off the communication console without another word, conscious that she’d shot herself in the foot. The only places where she’d be safe from monitoring now would be in her private areas and even that wasn’t certain. It would’ve been far more logical to have kept her mouth shut.
    Or would it?
    She stilled and considered her behavior. She was a twenty-four-year-old F-Psy who produced with near perfect accuracy. She was worth billions, not the millions Sascha had guessed at. And she knew that her psychic strength offered her immunity from a lot of things that might otherwise be issues.
    Such as being interned at the Center, her mind wiped clean in a process of “rehabilitation.”
    Put that way, arrogance was almost a given. Merely because they’d subjugated their feelings, it didn’t mean that her people were no longer cognizant of distinctions of class, wealth, and power. For the first time, she considered the untapped reservoir of her own political power. Perhaps she even had enough to delete all monitoring of her, aside from when she was in the chair. Maybe not at once,