Psy & Changelings 05 - Hostage to Pleasure

unconnected to her. She’d disregarded her own safety—the first priority for most Psy—disregarded common sense, disregarded her other obligations, everything but her driving need to ensure Dorian made it out alive.
    Now she sat across from her son, and instead of the guilt that had first hit her, she felt a kind of peace. Because in doing what she’d done, she’d taken an irrevocable step. A step out of even the pretence of Silence. On the PsyNet she continued to protect her mind, but within, the last vestiges of her conditioning had ceased to exist.
    Come on, Amara, she whispered. Let’s end this. Because Dorian was right, she couldn’t keep living this half life.
    “Mommy?” Keenan’s solemn little face, looking at her quizzically. “Where are you?”
    “Right here.” Standing, she walked around the table and picked him up in her arms, hiding nothing of what she felt. “I love you, my baby. I love you.”
    He gave her the sweetest smile. “I know that, Mommy.”
    Even as her heart broke under the lash of that confident voice, she looked up to see Dorian stalking toward her. Her body tightened, her heart thudded, and her mind grew frantic with a need so primitive and sensual, it threatened to make a slave out of her.
    Dorian spoke to Keenan first. “Tammy made cookies.”
    Keenan immediately wiggled to be put down. “I like cookies!”
    Ashaya set him on the ground and watched him run to the house. “Has there been a decision on her cubs?”
    “They’ll be back tonight. Sascha’s confident he won’t hurt them, but when you’re not with him, she and Faith are going to take turns at keeping an eye on things.”
    Ashaya nodded, understanding the caution. Keenan was a strong telepath, and conversely, the cubs did have claws and teeth. “I want him to have friends.” To have a life.
    Dorian stepped closer, backing her against the picnic table. “What did he give you?”
    “None of your business,” she snapped, not having forgotten his earlier temper—nor the way he’d deliberately put her on the defensive so she’d back down. It had taken her too long to recognize that bit of feline trickery, but now that she had, it made her wonder what secrets he was keeping. Not that he would tell her. That thought gave her voice added force when she said, “Go away.”
    Instead of complying, he put his hands on either side of the table, trapping her. “They can see us from the kitchen, so play nice.” His eyes gleamed in a way that turned the word “play” into something sinfully sensuous.
    Ashaya felt her cheeks heat up in a feminine response she hadn’t known she had the capacity to experience. Dorian, she realized, was a very dangerous male when he decided to play nice. “You were yelling at me not so long ago. Why the charm?”
    “I want you.” A blunt statement. “I decided I could continue to stave off the need by remaining angry with you, or—” He paused, his eyes turning to blue fire in front of her.
    “Or?” she prompted, knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to resist.
    “Or I could feed the hunger.”
    She swallowed.
    “Guess which option I chose?” A silken whisper that made her nerve endings skitter in warning.
    “Number one?” Her voice came out oddly husky.
    He pressed into her, his thighs hard and powerful against her own. “Wrong.” His gaze drifted to her lips. “No bonus points for you. But that’s okay—I’ll go easy . . . the first time.”

CHAPTER 29
    Somewhere in the murky depths of the Tenderloin, a place some still called the dark heart of San Francisco, an exchange took place.
    “Careful,” came the hissed command as a box nearly hit the alleyway floor. “We’ve only got two boxes of this stuff.”
    “More than enough,” another person scoffed. “All it takes is one hit, right?”
    “Not with your shooting,” the first voice said. “Now concentrate.”
    Silence reigned for the next ten minutes, until everything was stored in its proper place. “Word from Venice is that this operation is a go, if we can do it without attracting the wrong kind of attention—our top priority is to remain under the radar.” The speaker waited to make sure that was understood before moving on to more practical matters. “Some of us will be shooting with modified tranquilizer guns, so I want everyone to start practicing. If we get a chance to take Aleine, we need to be ready. Because we’ll only get one shot.”
    “Then let’s make sure we hit the