Psy & Changelings 05 - Hostage to Pleasure

eye out for any attempts at psychic interference.”
    “Sascha’s a cardinal but she’s not trained in—”
    “Did I tell you my mate’s been hanging around with the bloody assassin?” A growl.
    Dorian calmed. “Judd’s been teaching her to scan for interference? Good.” He switched gears. “When did you get back from the SnowDancer den?”
    “Half an hour ago. Sascha decided Keenan would take it better if we all treated his being in the den as a normal visit. Both Hawke and Judd have their eye on him, but the kid settled down easy as pie after he met Walker,” he said, referring to Judd’s older brother.
    “None of us up there?” Dorian was sure the SnowDancers would look out for Keenan, but he didn’t want the boy to feel completely lost among strangers.
    “Hawke thinks I have issues with trust, but I had Rina and Kit follow us up. Keenan knows Kit and it’s good training for both of them to spend some time with our main allies,” he said. “Look, I’m almost there. I’ll give you a call afterward.”
    Dorian put the phone in his pocket and turned to find Ashaya in the open doorway. “I thought I told you to stay inside.”
    “The other man left.” She held up the rifle he’d had stashed in his closet. “And I don’t have to be a good shot to hit a man from this distance.”
    “Yeah?” He watched as she tried to tuck her hair behind her ears. The unruly stuff refused to stay in place, dancing gleefully in the quiet air currents rushing through the trees.
    “I heard some of what you said—have they tracked me this far?”
    He couldn’t lie to her. “Amara must’ve told them.”
    “No.” A stubborn shake of her head. “She would never betray me.”
    “Shaya—”
    “No, Dorian.” Her hand clenched on the rifle and she frowned. “Even if they broke her mind, she’d find some way to misdirect them. This is too close—there’s too much of a chance they’ll actually locate me. Not like in the chaos of Chinatown.”
    He was swayed by the sheer belief in her tone. “That leaves only one other option.”
    She gave him a questioning glance as he got rid of some of the vegetation from his front wall to expose a window. “They’re not tracking you,” he said. “They’re tracking Amara.”
    The rifle trembled in her hand. “I guess I knew that.”
    “She in your head?” Walking up, he took the rifle and nudged her back inside.
    “No.” She thrust both hands through her hair. “The psychic ‘door’ on my end of the bond is closed. I don’t know when or how that happened, but it doesn’t matter. We’re still aware of each other—she’s following that awareness.”
    “Like a homing beacon.”
    “Yes.”
    Door closed, Dorian tapped in the security code and reinitiated the perimeter alarms. “Can you do it in reverse? Track her?”
    “Yes, but I don’t want to.” Her cheekbones stood out sharply against her skin. “It’s dangerous. If I focus on her, I might open my end of the link. There’s no telling what she might attempt to send through or do. I can’t risk it when I don’t know how I blocked the link in the first place.”
    “Fine. Andrew didn’t mention seeing her, so she can’t be too close. We have time.” He checked the rifle, then began to go through his other weapons, pausing only long enough to send Luc a quick message about the possibility of it being Amara the Council soldiers were tracking. “If you want to shower, do it now.”
    She hesitated. “What if it’s a red herring and she’s going after Keenan?”
    Instinct had him shaking his head. “Amara’s out for you.” And the boy was as safe as they could make him, protected by a pack that took threats against children very seriously.
    Ashaya nodded. “I’ll be quick.” Her voice shook a little, but she was as good as her word, returning in seven minutes.
    Dorian decided to take the chance to shower, too—Amara might not be changeling, but it’d be plain lazy not to worry about a scent trail. “Use the window to keep an eye out.” He put the rifle in her hands, kissed her because he missed having the taste of her in his mouth, and ducked into the shower.
    Three minutes later, he was out and rubbing himself dry. “Shaya?”
    “Nothing.” She poked her head around the door to give him a troubled look. “How can I still want you even when things are so out of control?”
    Throwing the towel over a railing, he began to pull on his clothes. “I once heard Faith say that some