Psy & Changelings 06 - Branded by Fire

looked up in surprise. “But you’re not alone. We’ve got Jem—”
    “Yeah, she’s a lieutenant but posted out way over in the L.A. region,” Indigo said. “Mercy’s the only one nearby who understands these things.”
    “What things?”
    “Well, if you could understand them,” she said with exaggerated patience, “I wouldn’t be talking to a cat, would I?”
    He didn’t back down. They didn’t call him the Wall for nothing. “Do you think the pack’s leadership structure is unbalanced?” Changelings weren’t human or Psy. Female dominants were an expected part of the pack. But now that Indigo had pointed it out, he realized that of the ten SnowDancer lieutenants, only two were female.
    “Nah.” She waved her hand. “It just turned out that way this generation. Remember—when your mom was lieutenant, it was six-four in favor of the females.”
    It was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that someone had mentioned his mother. If he’d been the superstitious type, it might’ve concerned him. But he wasn’t. And it didn’t. “True,” he said, and unwrapped the package.
    “Oooh.” Indigo picked up the tiny, interlocking wooden puzzle and ran her fingers over it. “This work is too smooth for a child.”
    “Walker probably helped him.” Judd’s brother was very good with his hands, something that seemed to surprise him as much as anyone. “It’s a wolf.”
    Indigo gave it back to him. “Yeah, stylized but discernible.”
    Riley played with the pieces, thinking Mercy would probably enjoy this. He’d jumble it up and give it to her, just to see the look of feline concentration on her face.
    A hand waved in front of his eyes. “Earth to Riley.”
    “What?”
    “I asked how come you got a present.” She looked suspicious of his lapse in focus.
    He thought about it. “I’ve been spending a bit of time with him, teaching him tracking, things like that.”
    “You’re good at that.”
    “What?”
    “Being a big brother.” A smile. “And uncle now. Brenna and Drew are lucky to have you.”
    As she walked away, he wondered if his siblings thought that. Raising them, with the pack’s help of course, wasn’t anything he’d ever resented—he was who he was. Solid. Rooted in earth. But now he wondered—was he too solid, too practical, to continue to captivate a woman as wild and as bright as Mercy?
    And why, if he was set on finding a maternal female for a mate, did it matter that he be fascinating enough to enchant a sentinel?

CHAPTER 28
    Entering the White Zone, Sascha waved off her escort—Dezi and Vaughn—and walked over to take a seat on the ground in front of Toby. He’d chosen a peaceful spot where the little ones wouldn’t disturb them but which kept him from breaking the rules about venturing too far. “Hello, sweetheart.”
    “Hi.” A bright smile that showcased a truly gentle soul.
    It was a miracle, that smile. Toby had been a shocked, too-quiet child when she’d first met him. Now he could’ve been any child in either pack, with as much mischief in his heart as laughter. But, she thought, he was a little more sensitive than even the healers. “How about we start with you telling me how things have been going?”
    “Well, the rainbows are stronger.”
    The “rainbows” were pieces of color that floated in the dark spaces within a neural network. The PsyNet had no such rainbows. The Web of Stars had had it from Sascha’s first glimpse—because those rainbows were the psychic emanations of an E-Psy, an empath. Sascha didn’t consciously create those emanations—they were simply part of who she was. But in the PsyNet, that truth had been buried under a thousand shields.
    As had Toby’s.
    The boy wasn’t an E-Psy. His main ability was a variant form of telepathy, but he had enough E in him to affect the LaurenNet. “Do you think it’ll get any stronger?” She had a theory—that if the LaurenNet had had a powerful E-Psy in its midst, Toby’s latent ability would have remained that way. But because the LaurenNet was without its own empath, need had compelled the strengthening of muscles that might otherwise have lain dormant.
    The boy frowned in thought, easy in showing emotion. His face was a masculine version of his sister, Sienna’s, intense and compelling. “I’m not sure,” he said at last, “but I don’t think so. It feels . . . finished now.”
    “That’s what I think, too.” She touched his hand, and their fingers