Play of Passion (16 page)

“Things change fast in that bloody hive mind.” Lines marred his brow. “Maybe we should talk to the cop as well,” Hawke said, referring to Nikita’s new security chief.

“I’m on it,” Andrew said, taking the e-mail and folding it into a square he could slide into the pocket of his jeans. “As an aside, Nikita can’t exactly be popular with Pure Psy if she’s got a human security chief.”

That in itself, the fact of a human in a Councilor’s domain, had to be one hell of a story. Andrew had heard bits and pieces of what had gone down with Max Shannon and the J-Psy who was his wife, but he’d been away in another area when most of it was taking place. However, he’d made it a point to get in touch with Max when he returned to the den, knowing the cop’s position meant he’d be privy to some very useful information. Max, too, had seen the benefit of having a direct point of contact with SnowDancer.

“She’s still a Councilor,” Hawke said, his tone grim. “Be careful what intel you share.”

“There’s not much sharing going on right now.” Andrew knew true trust would take time. Hell, it had taken over a decade with the leopards. “We’re feeling each other out.”

Hawke’s eyes gleamed with unexpected humor. “So, feel anything out with a certain lieutenant?”

Andrew didn’t even bother to swear. He just got up and stabbed a finger in his alpha’s direction. “No interference.” He’d court, seduce, and tangle with Indigo his own way.

Hawke held up his hands, palms out, but the glint in his eye didn’t disappear. “Is she playing with you?”

Andrew thought of the silence that had been her response to the note he’d slipped under her door. “Not yet. But she will.” He wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

 

 

Coming in to
change for a session with the novice soldiers, Indigo couldn’t keep from staring at the piece of paper sitting on her bedside table. It wasn’t as if the words would’ve changed from this morning, but she picked it up, bringing it close to her face—as if that would make her understand it better.

It was the last thing she’d have expected him to do after the bitterness of their fight. Because, all charm aside, Drew was a dominant predatory changeling male. He’d been in charge of the volatile San Diego sector until Hawke assigned him to his new position as a roaming liaison/spy across SnowDancer territory. And he was their tracker.

Men like that had tempers. They brooded and simmered. They did not extend olive branches . . . if that was what this was. Her eyes narrowed. Cunning, she thought; Drew wasn’t only smart and strong, he had a whole streak of sneaky running right through him.

As to the P.S., she could’ve told herself she didn’t understand, but that would’ve been disingenuous when the truth was beating her over the head with the subtlety of a hundred-pound hammer. A hammer wielded by an obstinate male with a wicked, wicked smile and a way of moving that made her want to sit back and simply admire.

It would be so easy to say yes, far easier than she could’ve ever imagined.

“But then what?” she whispered out loud, knowing that the disparity in their ages and—more crucially—positions in the hierarchy meant that any relationship would be a fleeting thing. It already tore her to shreds that they’d lost some of what had always been between them. No matter what, she’d never be able to touch Drew with the joyful familiarity of Pack again, never be able to sleep with her body tangled in his.

Frustrated and angry at him for doing this, for changing a relationship she hadn’t known she relied on until it was yanked out from under her feet, she scrunched the piece of paper into a ball and threw it into the corner. But though it was out of sight, it refused to leave her mind.

 

 

Having just had
an interesting discussion with Judd about Pure Psy, as well as about another matter his brother-in-law wanted him to pursue, Andrew stopped by Brenna’s, knowing she had the day off. “So,” he said, giving her his most winning smile, “what’s for lunch?”

She laughed. “I got immune to that look around about when I turned five.” But she hugged him before supplying him with a large piece of leftover lasagna, fruit, and even a slice of almond-orange cake.

He ate fast, kissing her on the forehead in thanks before using the privacy of her apartment to make a call to Nikita’s security chief. Max was tied up all day today and tomorrow, so they set up a meeting for the morning of the day after.

“About the rumors Judd’s heard?” Brenna asked after he hung up. “Possible dead Psy in the city?”

“Yep.” Reviewing everything he had on his to-do list, Andrew realized he’d cleared it. Now it was time to pursue his personal prey—in a most unusual location. “See you later, baby sis.”

“Hey,” Brenna called out as he put his hand on the door-knob, “how’s the charm offensive going?”

Andrew thought of how furious Indy was with him, thought, too, of her silence in response to his note. “I’m working on it.” Leaving, he made his way through the corridors and to the White Zone. His target, the outdoor nursery, was tucked in one well-guarded corner of the designated safe area, and he wasn’t more than a foot inside when he was accosted by a determined two-year-old.

“Up,” she said, raising her arms imperiously.

Being the sucker that he was, he obliged, throwing her into the air. “Again!” she ordered when he caught her, the morning light blazing off the thick brown of her curls.

He obeyed. Four more times—to her squealing delight—before her chubby little arms hugged his neck. “Down.” As he bent to put her on the ground, she smacked his lips with her own in a silent thank-you.

“So the charm works on two-year-olds, too?” A gentle comment from the woman who stood watch over the littlies as they played in the secure playground area—fenced off with stone walls to ensure no harm could come to the smallest of SnowDancers.

He rose to his full height. “The only one it doesn’t seem to work on,” he said, well aware that her acute gaze would see through any attempt at prevarication, “is your daughter.”

Tarah Riviere’s smile deepened, and there was such serenity in it that his own wolf turned calm, unwilling to disturb her with its chaotic emotions. “Your mate is a lucky man,” he said without artifice. Such peace would never suit his own wild nature, but there was no denying the beauty and grace of it.

“Charming me won’t do you any good with my daughter.” Bending down, Tarah kissed a boo-boo, then sent the little boy toddling happily away.

Andrew shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, rocking back on his heels. “I adore her,” he said, figuring honesty would only help his case. “And if nothing else, she”—he couldn’t say “wants me” to Indigo’s mother—“is attracted to me, but I can’t even get her to talk to me about it because I don’t fit the image she has in her mind of the men she ought to date.” His frustration punched through in spite of himself.

Tarah scowled. “No criticizing my baby.”

“Sorry.” Shoving his hands through his hair, he caught a pup in wolf form as the boy tried to make a daring escape, and tapped him gently on the muzzle before setting him back on the right path. “She’s making me crazy.” He remained hunkered on the ground, playing with the pup, who’d circled back to growl and bat at his hands with little paws.

Tarah’s fingers touched his hair. “My Indigo is willful. Always has been, always will be.” Affectionate words. “She knows what she wants.”

“Well, she’s wrong,” he muttered, growling back at the pup when the little one tried a dominance display.

The pup froze.

Reaching out, Andrew picked him up, nipped him on one ear, and sent him on his way.

“Very well done,” Tarah murmured. “The babies are always trying things like that. They need to know their boundaries at this age.”

“It’s the wolf,” Andrew said, remaining where he was . . . because it was nice to have a mother’s fingers playing through his hair. He only had a few precious memories of his own lieutenant mother, but he missed her—the way she’d pepper his face with kisses, the way she’d brush his hair, the way she’d smell after coming in from duty. Small moments, fleeting whispers, those were the things he remembered. “It needs the certainty of the hierarchy.”

“That doesn’t change with age.” Sighing, she tugged a little at his hair, making him look up. “You don’t fit the hierarchy, Andrew.”

Almost no one
called him Andrew. He felt like a little boy again. “That’s not my fault.”

“Oh?” An arch sound. “You knew exactly what you were doing from the instant you learned to walk. What that pup just tried? The Great Escape? Well, you succeeded nine times out of ten, and you did it by being so completely sweet and well behaved that no one thought to keep an eye on you.” Another tug, a little harder. “Do you know how many times I had to go chasing after you?”

“Sorry?” Making a contrite face, he finally got to his feet, Tarah’s hand sliding away to curl around his upper arm.

“No, you’re not.” A small laugh, but her eyes had turned solemn. “I like you, Andrew,” she said, “and I like the way you sound when you speak about my girl.”

Andrew touched the hand she had on his arm. “I’d do anything for her.”

Tarah looked at him for long moments. “Your mama used to call you her ‘loving baby.’”

“Yeah?” Andrew’s throat grew thick. “What was Riley?”

“Her stubborn baby.” Tarah smiled. “Brenna was her sunny baby.”

“She had us pegged.” Andrew couldn’t hold Tarah’s gaze anymore, his own misting over. Turning his head, he stared unseeing at the children.

Tarah didn’t speak for long moments, but when she did, it wasn’t about his mother. “Do you know my Evangeline?”

Glad for the change of subject, he said, “Sure.” He had an impression of long black hair, deep gray eyes, and the slender body of a ballerina. “She used to play with Bren when they were young.” The two girls had drifted apart as their interests diverged, but they still went to the occasional movie together when Evie was in the den. “She’s away at college at the moment, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but she’ll be visiting in a couple of weeks.” Squeezing his arm, she looked up. “Evie was a fragile child—spent weeks at a time in the hospital. She didn’t really come into her own until she was about thirteen.”

Knowing Indy as he did, Andrew immediately saw what Tarah was trying to tell him. Indigo, with her strength and her will, would’ve tried to take as much of the burden off her parents’ shoulders as she could—but Tarah’s expression said it was more than that. “Was Evie ever in danger of dying?”

“More than once.” Solemn words. “And my Indigo, she loves her sister. It tore her apart each time Evangeline was taken to the hospital.”

Out of that fire had been forged the steel of Indigo’s nature. She loved her sister, her family, but she wouldn’t easily allow anyone else close enough to create that depth of vulnerability in her heart. “Thank you, Tarah.” Because he and Indy, it wasn’t only about sex. They’d been locked together by the bonds of friendship long before he’d dared reach for her heart. And maybe, just maybe, she was running scared because somewhere deep within, she understood that he’d never be a lover who’d allow her to keep a safe emotional distance.

Tarah brushed a leaf that had fallen onto his arm with the absentminded touch of a mother. “I think you need to meet another member of our family, too.”

He caught something hidden in that statement. “Who?”

“No,” Tarah said after a thoughtful pause, releasing his arm. “Pass the first hurdle, then we’ll talk about the second.”

He wanted to pursue the oblique hint, but Tarah’s tone made it clear she wouldn’t be pushed. However, reaching up, she cupped his cheeks and, when he bent his head, brushed his hair off his face with a maternal hand. “You’ll do, Andrew.” A finger tapping on his nose. “Just don’t drive my girl too crazy.”

Andrew grinned, suddenly lighthearted. Indigo was very close to her mother; Tarah could’ve put a serious spanner in the works. Instead, she was looking at him with exasperated affection. “You know me too well, Tarah.”

“Scamp.” Shaking her head, she commandeered him to play with the pups.

Delighted with the whole world at that moment, with hope a blinding brilliance inside of him, he obeyed without protest.

 

 

Indigo couldn’t believe
she was considering Drew’s invitation. Staring at the piece of paper she’d retrieved minutes after she’d crushed it and that had been taunting her since, she shoved it into her pants pocket for the umpteenth time. “Again,” she said to the small group of novice soldiers she was putting through their paces in one of the less utilized gyms in the den.

They groaned but restarted the circuit. She watched, making note of weaknesses, strengths, things that needed to be corrected. Unfortunately, that still left her plenty of time to think about a certain wolf who was turning out to be mule stubborn beneath his playful exterior.

“Good group.” Riaz’s deep voice came from behind her.

She’d caught the dark woodsy scent of him, so she didn’t startle. “Yes, they are—our best.” At least one future lieutenant, most likely two.

“Is that Sienna Lauren?”

“Yep.” The girl might be spending a lot of time with the DarkRiver leopards, but she was a SnowDancer soldier—and she never failed to put in the required hours in training, further honing the skills Indigo had all but beaten into her.

At the time they began, Sienna had been a belligerent seventeen-year-old determined to rely only on her psychic abilities. It had taken Indigo almost six months to break through that prickly exterior . . . and glimpse the ravaging fear within. Sienna Lauren was more afraid of her own power than she was of any real or imaginary monster.

“She’s very, very good.” Riaz walked to stand beside her, his arms loosely folded as he watched the group complete one section of the circuit and move on to the next. “I might have a go at the course myself—haven’t had the chance to do this kind of thing for a while.”