Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

told her his wolf most definitely
was
.
    Pierce’s snarl made tears come out of her eyes. “Serves you right,” she managed to get out to the glowering male.
    “Hey! I was—” An abrupt pause. “I think that’s my cell.”
    Adria hadn’t heard anything, but perhaps he had it on vibrate. As he walked a few steps away to answer the call, she turned to Riaz. “Do we have time to sneak into the glass museum I saw?”
    Riaz wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close. “Come on.”
    Wanting to nuzzle at his throat, she gave in a little and pressed a kiss to the hollow. His response was a teasing snap of his teeth by her ear.
    We’ll be okay.
    The bud greened with health, but deep inside, she knew it would never be so simple.
    TRAVELING under an assumed name, and with his features disguised to avoid attention, Judd stepped off an airjet at Marco Polo Airport late that afternoon, then caught a water bus to Venice. He could’ve teleported in and negated the need for the subterfuge, but there was no point in using up his telekinetic reserves without cause.
    When he reached the island, he found a corner out of sight of passersby—and of security cameras, concentrated on the images Aden had given him, and teleported to the location where he was to meet the rebels. It proved to be a small indoor courtyard, the walls creamy with age and covered with some type of a dark green vine.
    There was no need to make a cell phone call.
    “I was told I was expected,” he said to the armed man who watchedhim with the flat eyes of an Arrow, though he was dressed in faded denim jeans and a blue T-shirt.
    The slightest hesitation, the man’s eyes flicking to his hair. It was currently dirty blond, his eyes a pale gray. “Who sent you?” The other man didn’t lower his weapon.
    Instead of answering, Judd—having built up the correct focus—bent the muzzle of the gun downward, rendering it ineffective. The rebel Arrow threw it aside, hitting Judd with a telepathic blow at the same time … but Judd had his psychic hands in the cells of the male’s heart. He shifted things enough to pinch a blood vessel.
    The man paled at the warning. “Tk-Cell.” It was a gasp, his hand up, palm out.
    Judd released him, fixing the damage as he left. “I assume no further introductions are necessary.”
    The answer came from behind him, where he’d sensed a familiar presence. “I apologize, Judd,” said the melodic female voice. “Alejandro has orders to incapacitate all unknowns who enter the courtyard.”
    Keeping Alejandro in his line of sight, he turned to see a petite woman in her late twenties with a face that was all soft curves, her lips lush. But it was her eyes that told the truth of her nature—the color of coal, they were like chips of ice. “Zaira.” Born in Jordan and raised in an Arrow training facility in Turkey, she’d been lost in action five years ago.
    Zaira’s gaze shifted. A second later, Alejandro gave a sharp nod and left. Only then did Zaira turn and invite him to join her for a walk around the courtyard. “We did not expect you until this evening. That’s why one of us wasn’t on watch.”
    “Alejandro is damaged.”
    “His neural functions are fine, but he was given an overdose of Jax while on a mission. It’s left him unable to veer from an order. Alejandro no longer understands subtleties.”
    “Is he safe?”
    “So long as I don’t give him a direct order, he won’t kill.” Zaira paused for a long second before continuing the walk. “I saved his life, and he … imprinted on me. It concerns me, but according to Aden, there’s nothing to be done. His mental pathways are locked.”
    Judd picked up the nuances of deep emotion, wondered how much of it was truth and how much a mask created to blend into the human world. Arrows did not easily break Silence. He knew that better than anyone. “Why did you want to see me?”
    “From what I’ve gleaned from the media reports, you appear to have carved out a stable life for yourself and your family. We want to know how you did it.”
    Judd glanced around the courtyard, aware he was being watched by more eyes than Zaira’s. “You all live here, in this compound?”
    “Yes.”
    “What do you do for income?”
    “Diversified investments made over a number of years, including properties in various cities and localities.” Zaira turned the corner of the courtyard, coming to a stop beside a curved archway. “Money is not what