Mine to Possess (Psy-Changelings, Book 4), page 10
“To keep them informed.” Max shrugged. “But I do that with all victims’ families, and for Mickey, Iain, Diana, and Jon, they’re it. I don’t give them anything extra.”
That made her feel a little better. “The things you’re going to tell us tonight…”
“Classified.” He looked around the busy bar. “Lots of sharp changeling ears here.”
Clay shook his head. “No one can eavesdrop. Speakers built into the booth are sending out a low-frequency hum designed to disrupt sound. It can come in but not get out.”
“Impressive.” Max raised an eyebrow. “Can you actually hear the frequency?”
Talin was curious about that, too. As a child, Clay’s abilities had delighted her. More than once, he had turned into a leopard simply because she’d wanted to stroke him—which now that she thought about it, had exhibited an incredible amount of amused indulgence on his part. She wondered if she’d ever get to stroke him again. That quickly, the slumbering need in her belly fired to brilliant life, sexual but also deeply, intensely emotional. She didn’t care how selfish it was—she wanted her Clay back.
“No,” Clay answered. “The frequency is pitched below our hearing but it works. That’s why no one turned when you yelled.” That last was directed at her.
“I was surprised.” She caught the smoldering embers in his gaze—he hadn’t forgotten her earlier provocation and, crazy as it was, she was glad. Being subject to that brooding temper of his was far better than being ignored.
Looking away, but with his arm now rubbing against hers, he nodded at Max. “Talin’s apartment. Anything?”
“Blood was—I’m sorry, Talin. It was Mickey’s.”
Even as Talin’s stomach threatened to revolt, Clay’s hand closed over her thigh. He squeezed hard enough to disrupt her nausea, drawing her attention to the heated power of his presence instead. Adoring him a little more, she put her hand on his. His skin burned hotter than hers, warming the cold in her bones.
“Go on,” he said to Max. “Tally can handle it.”
Max looked at her, gaze bruised by the cruelty he’d witnessed. “He right? This is going to be bad.”
Her hand clenched on Clay’s. Not making a sound, he broke the contact, raised his arm, and placed it around her shoulders. Such a simple act, but one she’d never allowed any other man. It had felt too much like a cage…and none of those others had been capable of breaking her neck with a single violent move. But at this moment, the memory of the safety she’d always found in Clay’s arms trumped that of tearing flesh and a monster’s shrill screams. She drew his scent deep into her blood, into her very cells. “I’m ready.”
Max didn’t ask again. “There wasn’t much else at your apartment. What evidence we have comes from the kids themselves.” He paused, rubbed a hand over his face before continuing. “The apparent pattern until Diana and Iain was a murder every three weeks.”
“You don’t think it’s the actual pattern?” Clay asked.
“I’m not sure we have all the victims,” Max said. “Finding Mickey, Iain, and Diana so close together—within two weeks of each other—tends to support that theory.”
“Any geographical pattern?” Clay asked with a predator’s sharp intelligence, his deep voice a rumble that vibrated in her bones, at once comforting and a warning that he was something other, something as lethal as he was beautiful.
“No,” Max answered. “I’m only in San Francisco because it’s the last known body dump. Diana was taken from New York but found here with Iain. She was the last of your New York charges, right, Talin?”
“After they got Mickey, yeah.” Oh, God, it hurt to think of her kids broken and bloodied. “Officially, Di didn’t need a Guardian anymore, not once she’d been accepted into the boarding school.” But she had still called to chat every so often, had still been Talin’s. “She loved being on the track team.” Talin curled a hand against the hard strength of Clay’s abdomen, mind filled with the sound of Diana’s laughter. Clay didn’t say anything but shifted his hold so that his thumb stroked over the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Four Shine kids if you count Jon,” he murmured. “I’m not buying the ‘fishing in the same pool’ argument, Tally.”
Her loyalty to Shine made her want to protest, but she tried for logic. “But there were seven others, all unconnected,” she reminded him.
“That’s what I have to tell you,” Max said.
Horror uncurled slow and insidious in the pit of her stomach. If Shine was evil, then what did that make her? Had she been leading the children she loved to their deaths?
Max reached for the bowl of peanuts on one side of the table. “You mind?” At the shake of their heads, he started picking out nuts and placing them on the tabletop. “We have fifteen confirmed fatalities.”
“Fifteen?” Her hand spasmed, gripped Clay’s T-shirt. “So many?”
“I’m guessing there are more.” Having counted out fifteen peanuts, he pushed the bowl aside and put the saltshaker in the middle of the table. “I only found these fifteen because I went digging. Most times kids like this disappear, no one reports them missing. By the time they’re found, it’s often too late to see soft-tissue damage.”
“Soft-tissue, that’s your link?” Clay asked what Talin couldn’t force herself to.
“Yeah,” Max answered, “but one step at a time. This”—he picked up a nut—“is the first confirmed victim. Harish, age eight. Died a year ago—so this has been going on longer than we initially thought. The forensic team found the card of a Shine Foundation Guardian hidden in his shoe. The Guardian confirmed he’d approached the boy two days before the abduction.” Max put the peanut about five centimeters from the saltshaker.
Talin’s sense of horror multiplied a thousand times over.
“Second confirmed victim: Miu Li, age thirteen, died eleven months ago. She was a walk-in at Shine’s Oklahoma facility. Did some tests, was entered into the tracking system, and disappeared.” That peanut, he put closer to the saltshaker. “Victim number three: Hana Takuya, age fourteen, in her first year of an accelerated course funded by the Japan-Korea War Widows Trust. Its major donor is Shine.
“Victims four and five, Depe Lacroix, age ten, and Zoe Charles, age fourteen, threw me because they seemed to have no connection to Shine. Until,” he said, mouth a grim line, “I traced their families and found they both had younger siblings who had been tapped by the foundation. Seems logical that Shine must’ve approached the older kids, too, and been rebuffed.”
It continued like that until Max had connected all fifteen victims to Shine.
“My God.” Her mind refused to believe. “But Shine is good…they help kids. They helped me.” She rarely trusted, but she had given them a sliver of it.
“They might still be good,” Clay said, to her surprise. “You have to have considered the idea of a mole in the foundation.”
Max nodded. “Either that or Shine is a slick front for some very bad things. But I doubt that. If you’re out to hunt kids, there are cheaper ways of doing it than by setting up a multimillion-dollar foundation. Whatever the truth, it’s our best lead.”
“You can’t attack head-on.” Talin leaned forward, desperate. “If they think you’re getting too close, they might kill Jon.” Hope, she thought, hope. Johnny D was still alive.
“I know.” Max tapped the saltshaker. “That’s where you were supposed to come in. You have a legitimate ‘in’ at Shine. I was going to ask you to go in, be my eyes and ears.”
“But now she’s been warned off, it’s too dangerous.” Clay slid his arm down to rest around her waist, his hand curving over her hip in a blatantly territorial gesture. “There’s no question of her going in.”
She bristled. “Hold on. You don’t get to dictate—”
“He’s right,” Max interrupted. “If it is a mole and not a case of the entire organization being dirty, that mole has to be pretty high up. The bastard clearly has access to preliminary contact reports from around the country. He or she will either make sure you don’t see anything useful or shut you up for good.”
“Men,” she muttered, agreeing with them but loath to show it, given Clay’s arrogant pronouncement. “Okay, even if I don’t go in, we need information from the inside somehow.”
“Anybody you trust there?” Max asked.
“Dev—Devraj Santos,” she said without hesitation. Clay’s hand tightened on her hip. She retaliated with a scowl. “He’s a good guy.”
“He’s also the director.” Max’s face was grim.
“No. He’ll help us.” She turned to Clay. “You know what I mean. Tell him.”
After a taut second, he nodded. “Talin’s instincts about people are pure gold.”
His support warmed her even as she realized he was calling her Talin again. They had only been together a day and already she knew that meant trouble. A strange exhilaration in her gut, she returned her attention to Max. “That’s not everything, is it?”
Max nodded. “First thing—absolutely no one but me, the medical examiner, and a couple of detectives I trust—knows this. The bodies were all missing some organs.”
It was too much. Her heart felt frozen in her chest.
“Which organs?” Clay’s hand stroked over her hip, jerking her out of her shell-shocked state and firmly back into the present. “Could we be talking black market?”
Talin saw where he was going. While the world had come a long away in the field of artificial and cloned organs, certain parts of the human body continued to defy medical science’s efforts to create perfect replicas. Added to that, a small subsection of society preferred donor organs over cloned ones. “Did they take the heart or eyes?” It was impossible not to remember those eyes filled with laughter and hope.
Max nodded. “But I think those removals were a front for the real goal, red herrings to divert our attention in exactly this direction.”
“I don’t understand.” Talin frowned. “Hearts are the most expensive and difficult to clone and eyes follow close behind.”
Clay suddenly went predator-still. “There’s one other very complicated organ you haven’t yet mentioned.”
Talin watched the men’s eyes lock, felt the murky truth pass between them. But her mind refused to make the connection. “What?” she asked, frustrated.
“The brain, Talin.” Max’s tone was full of quiet grief. “All the victims found early enough to perform a soft tissue analysis were missing their brains.”
Clay sensed Talin’s shock, her driving pain. It threatened to tear the heart right out of him. “How good was the surgery?” he asked, holding her tighter.
“Top of the line. This is an organized operation, not some lone whack job, especially if you factor in the geographical spread of the victims, the schedule of body dumps, and the lack of evidence—the kids had literally no trace on their bodies but for a single fiber.”
“It help narrow things down?”
“Not to a specific location, but the material is used in high-tech surgical labs.” Max shoved a hand through his hair. “The victims were taken to some kind of medical facility, and I’m betting it was the same one in all cases, which means they were transported across state lines without raising any alarms. Smacks of organization.”
“Were they tortured?” Talin’s voice was raw, as if she’d been screaming silently.
Clay’s leopard flexed its claws, disliking the scent of her anguish. “Come on, Tally. You don’t need to know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She swallowed and when she looked up, he saw that her eyes were dull gray, that exotic ring of fire muted to pale bronze. “It might tell us why these particular kids were taken, the deviance driving the killers. If we know, we can narrow down the list of other children who might be at risk.”
“What the hell. I’ll send you everything I’ve got.” Max pushed aside the peanuts he’d spread on the table, his fist clenched. “You know these kids, the way they think—you might pick up something I’ve missed.”
“What about the search for Jon?” It broke her heart, but Di, Mickey, and the others were already dead. Their justice could wait. “He has to come first.”
Clay brushed his lips over her hair. “Leave Jon to me.” It was a promise. “I don’t particularly want you looking at Max’s files, seeing what was done to the victims,” he admitted, tone rough, “but you need to go through them. It might help us locate the boy.”
She didn’t even trust Max to fight for Jon, but it was frighteningly easy to fall into her old rhythms with Clay. “Okay.” He would never allow harm to come to a child.
“That’ll leave me free to follow up the Shine connection.” Max rubbed at his eyes. “I just pray to God they don’t grab any more kids before we figure this out.”
Talin felt her stomach knot at the thought. “Thank you for sharing all this, Max.”
“Why did you?” Clay’s eyes were watchful, his hold on her so proprietary it made her feminine instincts spark in warning. “It’s confidential information.”
“I researched this town before I came in.” Max might’ve been human but he held Clay’s gaze with solid confidence. “Aside from the obvious Psy presence, DarkRiver and SnowDancer control San Francisco. And”—his tone shifted, became sharper—“the jury’s recently gone out on whether the Psy really do continue to have more influence than the cats and wolves.”
CHAPTER 13
Talin’s mouth went dry. The Psy made certain they were the sole power in any major metropolitan city, were ruthless in eliminating opponents. But if Max was right, then she’d begged the aid not of a friend, but of a man with a powerful network of influential connections. It shook her. What if Clay thought she’d only come to him because of his link to DarkRiver?
“You always intended to ask us to get involved,” Clay responded, his fingers stroking over her hip. She would’ve objected except she had a feeling that it was an unconscious act. And disturbing as it was to her senses, she liked it.
“I wanted to meet one of the senior pack members first. Changelings help their own—I wasn’t sure you’d bother with lost human children.” Max’s tone was blunt.
“Still doesn’t answer the original question.”
“I need backup.” Max’s mouth twisted. “Like I said, Enforcement doesn’t see this case as a priority.”
Talin felt her anger spike but kept her silence. None of this was Max’s fault.
“You’re saying you’re on your own on this?” Clay asked, sliding his hand up and down in a caress that threatened to make her shiver. She shifted but it only made him pull her closer, the heat of his body both a warning and a seductive kind of comfort.
“I have some friends in this city who’ll step in if necessary,” Max answered, “but yeah. The M.E.s usually get excited about unusual murders, and with the organ removals, these would qualify, but all I got this time were by-the-numbers reports. There’s pressure coming from somewhere, but hell if I know where. Especially if Shine is clean.” He tapped the side of his beer bottle.
“And,” he continued, “whatever marked these children’s brains as different, well, we don’t have it to work with. I’ve been able to get hold of some medical scans taken prior to death—usually as part of a Shine eval. Maybe you’ll spot something the M.E.s didn’t. Won’t be hard. I’m not sure they even looked.” A cynical smile. “Enforcement, the great protectors.”
“I don’t have medical training.” Frustrated, she clenched her hand against Clay’s T-shirt again, gripping the soft material in her fist.
“I know someone.” Clay fingers stilled before he cupped his hand boldly over her hip and squeezed. Stomach tight with awareness, she released his T-shirt but remained tucked against him, needing him more than she feared whatever it was that was growing between them. “You have any issue with me sharing the files?”
“I asked for your help. I have to trust you.” Max’s face took on a thoughtful cast. “You know the one thing I’ve always admired about the Psy?”
Startled by the sudden change in the direction of the conversation, Talin asked, “What?”
“They might be a race of ice-cold bastards, but they don’t abuse their kids. I’ve never heard of any sexual or physical abuse within a Psy household. Leave it to us animal races to sink that low.”
“Don’t be impressed.” Clay’s voice vibrated with withheld fury. “They begin their abuse at birth. Psy aren’t born emotionless, they’re conditioned into it. Their children have no choice but to obey—refusal gets you rehabilitated.”
Max frowned. “Rehab?”
“The process wipes memory, destroys mental capacity, basically turns them into walking vegetables.”
“Christ.” Max shook his head. “But even with that, I’m not convinced they didn’t make the better choice. Their children aren’t the ones being beaten to death.”
Talin was still wrestling with what Max had told them when they reached Clay’s lair late that night. He pushed something on the Tank’s dash. “I’ve unarmed the lair’s defenses. Get your butt inside before you start snoring right here.”
“I’m not the one who snores,” she muttered, walking away from the vehicle and into the lair.
Darkness, complete darkness.
“Lights.” Her breath began to come in panicked bursts. “Full power.”
Nothing.
Strangling fear threatened to close around her throat as she scrabbled at the wall, trying to find the computronics panel. She was sure she’d seen it earlier today. God, she had to find it. The dark, it was closing around her. Suffoca—
“Talin, breathe.”
She spun around, gasped at the sight of him. His eyes were night-glow, an eerie green-silver that was completely cat. “You can see in the dark!”
“Of course I can.” He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Panel’s five inches to your left. Middle pad.”
