CHAPTER 20

Clamping down on the savage possessiveness that threatened to derail the new trust between them, he focused on the pages in front of him. “Mickey couldn’t sing but it says here that he was a mathematical prodigy. Aren’t music and math connected?”

“I think so.” She frowned. “But look at Iain’s profile—he was a genius at languages.”

Clay uncurled his fingers from the back of her chair and stroked his fingers over the skin bared by her sleeveless top, giving in to the starving edge of his need. “Do you have info like this—stuff not in Max’s files—on the kids you didn’t know personally?” Under his fingertips, she was smooth, resilient, strokable.

“I’ve been calling around all day,” she said, not breaking the contact. “Don’t worry, I kept it real low key. A lot of these kids still have open case files at the branches where they connected with Shine, so I pretended to be some office lackey checking data. Sometimes, I called their last known school instead.” She dug through her papers.

“Okay, one girl was a brilliant painter. Another had off-the-scale design skills.” Talin was very aware of Clay’s fingers training up her arm and shoulder to brush her nape. After so many hours without him, she was acutely sensitive to his nearness. More than that, she needed his touch. It anchored her even as it shattered her defenses.

“What else?” His voice was a rumble.

She scrambled to reorder her thoughts. “Diana was a phenomenal runner. Art, sport, math—their strengths are all over the place, no link.” It was impossible to hide her disappointment.

Clay’s hand closed around her nape and she had the feeling that he wasn’t even conscious of the territorial act. “What about the others?”

“My records are incomplete, but I know two more were top athletes,” she said, confused by her own reaction to his hold. She was at once wary of what it implied, and hungry for more of the same. “This boy aced every MCAT test that—”

“What?” Tamsyn interrupted. “That’s a very specific test. It’s used to rank med school applicants.”

Talin was so surprised, she almost forgot the dark heat of Clay’s possessive touch. Almost. “It’s given to all the prospective Shine kids, along with a lot of other tests. To figure out what they’re good at.”

“But it’s so hard.” Tamsyn shook her head. “The only people who ace it are M-Psy, and that’s understandable because a lot of them can see inside the body.”

“This boy was human.” Of that Talin had no doubt. “That’s the one thing about Shine I’m not comfortable with. They won’t widen their mandate to help changelings.”

“Gifted human children,” Clay said, tone quiet. “That’s the link.”

Tammy’s gaze sharpened. “What about you, Talin? What was your gift?”

“Me?” She shrugged. “Nothing too special. I have an eidetic memory.” Except for when the disease ate holes in it, but she didn’t want to think about that. It was hard enough to focus with her body rejecting the dictates of her mind, her skin tight with an unnerving depth of sensual hunger. She didn’t want to feel desire for Clay. It panicked her to think of their friendship changing in such an irreversible way. “I never forget anything.”

Releasing her nape, Clay reached up and tugged at her ponytail. When she shot him a startled glance, he said, “That is special, Tally. How many other people can say that?”

She still felt it like a kick to the heart each time he unbent enough to use her childhood nickname. She had never allowed anyone else the right. “But if you’re right,” she said, mind clearing in a thundering wave of horror, “that means it’s Shine that’s recruiting gifted kids. They’re the ones separating out these children from the general population, making them targets.”

Disliking the shocked pain he could sense within her, Clay hugged her against his side. He’d braced himself for her flinch, but she came without a fight. It was all he could do not to pull her into his lap. “I know you think it’s a mole,” he murmured, “but is there even a small chance it could be the foundation as a whole?”

“No.” She shook her head, as if thrusting off her shock. “No, they care. All the Guardians—that’s my title—are ex-Shine kids. We’re the kind of people who’ll tear the world apart to find our charges. Iain’s Guardian, Rangi, is dealing with a huge family crisis right now, but he contacts me twice every day for updates.

“Most of the other kids that were taken, they didn’t have assigned Guardians yet, or believe me, you’d have a whole pack screaming for answers. If Shine wanted easy prey, they wouldn’t have chosen people like us to watch over the children.”

The leopard appreciated her fierce dedication to those under her care. But that only went so far—soon as they found Jon, she was going to see a hundred specialists if that was what it took. She couldn’t die. End of story. His eyes narrowed. “Three of your kids got taken, Tally. Why, if they’re looking for those who won’t be missed?”

“You’re right.” Her hand trembled. “Jon’s easy to explain—he never agreed to an official Guardian. I just sort of bullied him into cleaning up his act.” Clay could see how it tore into her that in trying to give Jon a better life, she might have put him in harm’s way. He decided he’d kiss the sass back into her when they were alone. “On the official records, I’m listed as his street contact, nothing more.”

He nodded. “Mickey and Diana?”

Talin’s chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Mickey, he was mine on the records. I don’t know why he was targeted.” She wanted to touch Clay for comfort, curled her hand into a fist to stop from doing so, though she did lean deeper into his embrace. “Di, I’m almost sure was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Easy prey.”

“That implies a certain lack of control,” Nate broke in. “Everything else points to clockwork precision.”

Clay frowned. “Could be the structure’s breaking down.”

“Or,” Tamsyn suggested, “they’ve become overconfident. They could have started taking the specific children they want instead of waiting for a safe target.”

“Maybe,” Nate agreed, eyes intent. “Bottom line—you need to get Shine to give up the reason they single out children who might be termed gifted.”

“Not all of them are,” she pointed out.

Clay stroked his hand up and down her arm, a comforting act but also a disturbing one. “Maybe not, but there are enough that we need to know why.”

“I’m not anywhere high enough in the organization. Dev knows me but—” She broke off as something beeped. “What’s—Oh, crap.” She dug through her pants pocket to retrieve a small silver phone. “The kids I’m watching over for Rangi have this number.” Flicking it open, she held it to her ear. “It’s Talin.”

So close, Clay had no trouble catching the response. His entire body went on alert. A second later, Talin’s hand reached out to clutch at his. “Tonight?” She looked at him, eyes huge with shock.

He nodded.

“Yes, okay. What time?” A pause. “All right. I’ll talk to you then.” She closed the phone. “Whoa, that was weird.”

Clay tangled his fingers more firmly with hers as his cat batted the tone of what he’d heard in the air, considered the taste of it.

“I didn’t catch the name,” Tamsyn said. “Who was that?”

Talin stared. “You heard everything from the other side of the table?”

“Sorry.” The healer winced. “Bad manners, but in my defense, human-level speech is pretty loud for us.”

“I guess I need to invest in an earpiece.” Her tone was intrigued rather than offended.

Clay wondered if she realized she was already thinking in the long term. Something very tight in him unfurled a fraction.

“The name,” Nate prodded, when she remained silent.

“Clay.” She looked to him, mischief in her eyes. His Tally had bounced back as she always did. But he still intended to pet her afterward. Being able to get past the pain of losing those under her care didn’t mean it had stopped hurting. “You want to do the honors?”

He scowled at her for the way she was teasing the others. She grinned, unrepentant. “It was Devraj Santos,” he said, his cat delighting in the small bit of fun. It would’ve surprised his packmates—he wasn’t known for indulging in the kind of play that was second nature to them. But Talin had always made not playing impossible. He hadn’t known how much he missed that aspect of their old relationship until this instant.

“Weird doesn’t describe it,” Nate muttered. “We talk about him and he calls. You sure he’s not an F-Psy?”

Talin laughed. “No, he’s very much human—I’ve heard he’s got such a temper, he can’t keep a secretary.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb along Clay’s where their hands lay intertwined. “The meeting’s for nine at a restaurant about an hour from here.”

Need a raw ache in his throat, Clay looked at Nate. “If we push the pack meeting to six, I can leave with Talin around eight.”

“I’ll make the calls.” Nate stood. “Tammy, how about a hand?” His tone held an intimacy that was so deep and true, it needed no words to communicate itself.

Talin swallowed the lump in her throat and waited until the other couple had gone upstairs before turning. “Clay, you heard Dev say I should come alone.”

He nodded, changing their handclasp so he could stroke his thumb along her palm.

Her cheeks colored. “Then, can I borrow your truck?”

“No.” Soft, she was so soft.

Lines formed on her forehead. “Why not?” She tugged at her hand.

He refused to let go. “Dev knows very well I’m going to be with you.”

“And you know this because you’re a foreseer, too?” She smirked.

He wanted to kiss that smirk right off her lips. So he did. She gave a startled little whimper and then a curious stillness stole over her. He didn’t push, didn’t force, but neither did he back off. She could’ve done so by making a single move to the side but she didn’t. So he kissed her, nibbled at that deliciously tempting lower lip, then licked his tongue over the small injury.

“I said no licking,” she whispered into his mouth, her free hand closing over his shoulder.

He squeezed the one he held. “Don’t you like it?”

“That’s never really been a consideration with me,” she said, sounding far too practical for a woman with kiss-wet lips. “To like, I’d have to be involved.”

He wanted to bite at her for daring to tell him he might be nothing more than a faceless fuck, the urge so primitive, so animal, it stripped his emotions bare. “We already are involved.” He waited for her to disagree—he’d kiss the lie right out of her.

“Yes.” She returned his stare, unflinching. “You make my body respond.”

He almost smiled. He knew Talin, understood the depth of her scars. Her body would’ve stayed dead to him if she hadn’t already bonded with him on an emotional level—as a smart, independent adult female. Their past bond had survived everything, but it was based on the memories of the children they had been. But this, this was something that required the cooperation of the woman she’d become. And it required patience on his part. Exquisite, gut-wrenching patience.

Releasing his hold on her hand, he reached out to rub a thumb over her mouth. It was one of his favorite parts of her body. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“W-what?”

He liked that little hitch in her voice, that fracture in her composure. His Tally was tough, but she was beginning to trust him again. It was a trust he’d damn well earn this time. Memories of how he’d let her down the first time threatened to darken his mood but he fought them off. This moment was about a sweet, sexy, simple kiss. He let his eyes brush over the plump curves of her mouth again. “I asked if you didn’t like the licking.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, her breasts rising in silent invitation. “Does it matter?”

“Hell, yeah.” He moved one arm to grip the back of her chair, while closing his other over the seduction of her hip. “Because if you don’t like it, I’ll have to learn some new tricks. I like doing it, have plans to lick my way across every freckle on your body.”

Her skin flushed hot, her eyes brightening with a startled flash of touch hunger. “When did you get so verbal?”

He smiled, slow, pleased. “I talk when I have something to say. Stop avoiding the question.”

“Fine.” Jerking forward, she flicked her tongue along his lower lip.

One hot, wet, stroke and his cock so was damn hard it felt like it was made out of granite. “You like it.” Body heavy with need, he began to lean toward her.

“On the mouth,” she said, just before their lips touched.

He blinked. “The body?”

“Well, most parts of the body would probably be okay,” she answered, her mouth brushing his. “But not there.”

Surprised by her shyness with him—no matter their years apart, they had never been strangers—he ran his lips along her jaw and nuzzled gently into her neck. Her hand rose from his shoulder to push into his hair. It was tempting to take his other hand off the back of her chair and stroke it down to her breasts, but he kept it where it was, his grip white-knuckled. Slow. This had to be a seduction not of the body alone but of the mind, too. He’d lost Tally once. Damn if she was ever leaving him again.

“Why not?” he whispered against her neck, flicking out his tongue to taste the lush femininity of her skin.

She jerked but then, to his shock, nipped at his ear with sharp little human teeth. He’d never before had to worry about spilling in his jeans. “I haven’t forgotten the question.” But he had realized that Tally was going to drive him insane in bed. God, he couldn’t wait.

“It’s just so…well, the whole thing seems very embarrassing and undignified.”

It was the last thing he’d expected to hear. The leopard wasn’t quite sure how to react. “Well, now,” he said after getting his voice back, “that’s a challenge if ever I heard one.”

Her hand clenched in his hair. “I didn’t mean it to be.” She sounded very young and very honest.

Unexpectedly, he felt the same way. “How about you let me? Once?” Right then, he could’ve been a teenager trying to talk his date into the backseat. But only if that date had been Tally—he’d never flirted this way with any other. Neither had she. He knew that in his gut.

“Clay.” Her face was hot against his cheek, the tendons of her neck stretched taut. “We aren’t going there. I told you.”

He began to kiss his way up her neck. “Just once,” he said, pressing a kiss below the curve of her ear and drinking in her responsive shiver. “You can even set a time limit.”

“Stop it.” But she made no effort to halt him as he nibbled his way along her jaw and back up to her mouth. “We aren’t going to sleep together.”

“Fine, we can do it with you on the kitchen table,” he murmured, drowning in the rapid beat of her pulse. It echoed the thunder of his own. “Or maybe on the cushions with you on your hands and knees. I like that one.”

She moaned and the kiss this time was open and hot and wet. When they broke apart, her eyes were huge, her lips bruised. “No.”

He gave in to the leopard’s urge to bare his teeth. “Why not? We’re good together.” And she sure as hell wasn’t going to be touching any other men. A growl built up in his throat.

“You’re my friend.” She scowled. “Sex will mess that up.”

He looked at that stubborn mouth, those expressive eyes, and suddenly understood what she couldn’t say. Sex had ruined her childhood, scarred her so badly that she’d used it as a weapon to hurt herself. For her it was nothing good, nothing that could be allowed into this relationship.

Because, he understood at last, this relationship was important.

His beast calmed. It wasn’t the calm of surrender but that of a predator sizing up his prey. “I’m a healthy adult male,” he began.

“And you have needs.” All softness leaked out of her face. “Spare me the lecture—if I don’t give it to you, you’ll get it from somewhere else. Do I have it right?”

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