Shield of Winter

Chapter 25

“THANK YOU FOR making me feel alive for the first time in a decade,” he told her as he fought and failed to release her wrist. “If I could alter time, I’d make myself into a man who could walk by your side, but I’m meant for the shadows.” Meant to live in the cold dark with the other monsters. “It’s where I intend to stay.”

Ripping away her hand to leave him forsaken, Ivy said, “Inside,” in a voice that shook. “I have something to say to you, and I won’t do it out here.”

He shouldn’t have gone behind closed doors with her, but he teleported them into her cabin. Pacing to the kitchen counter then back, Ivy slapped both her hands against his chest and pushed. “You don’t get to do that, Vasic! You don’t get to just give up!”

He gripped her wrists again, the feel of her skin against his own water to ground so parched he knew it had no hope of recovery. “I’ll never give up.” Peace, dark and quiet, had long been the beacon that kept him moving along the numb road of his life, but he could never find it by leaving her to face the world alone. “I will protect you until the day I die.” No one would ever hurt Ivy, ever bruise the bright hope of her. “I’m tainted, Ivy. There’s so much ugliness on me it can never be washed away.”

Ivy’s chest heaved as she tried to gasp in air. “You think that makes me happy?” Her hands attempting to push against him again. “To know you intend to spend the rest of your life at the periphery of mine, alone in the darkness?”

“It’s who I am.” The pattern had been set long ago. “I can’t change.” Could never erase the horror of all he’d done.

“Or you won’t change!” Her body trembling, she tugged at her wrists again, this time with far less force.

And he had to set her free, the warmth of her leaving a sensory tattoo against his palms even as ice formed in his bones. Ignoring the pain, he gathered up the echoes of sensation and placed them carefully in his private mental vault, though he knew memory would never do justice to all the facets of her. The green apple scent of her hair, the lush softness that was simply Ivy, the silken fragility of her skin, the angry flutter of her pulse beneath his thumb . . . he couldn’t hope to capture Ivy Jane in any box.

“Wear the jacket.” A snapped-out command as he headed for the door. “It’s started to snow.”

He obeyed the order, stepped out into the cold. However, when it was time for him to go off shift, he returned to her night-dark cabin ostensibly to leave the jacket for her. Hearing her calm, steady breathing beyond the screen that hid her bed, he hung up the jacket on a kitchen chair, then stretched out on the floor. Comfort was meaningless, his body trained to find rest where it could . . . but at least here, he was close to her.

His hands were too stained with blood to touch her, but he could use those same brutal hands to keep her safe, protect her from harm.

A whisper of clothing against skin followed by the sound of feet on the floor.

Vasic kept his eyes shut, felt a blanket being placed over him, Ivy’s palm cupping his cheek for a single instant before she broke contact to slide a pillow under his head with a gentle touch. “I am so mad at you,” she whispered, then tugged up the blanket and pressed a kiss to his temple that smashed an ice pick through his defenses, green apples and Ivy in his every breath. “And this is ridiculous, sleeping on the floor. Stubborn man.”

Opening his eyes after she left, he stared into the darkness as he fought to ride out the dissonance for the thousandth time since he’d met her. At its basest level, Silence worked by linking pain to emotion until the mind learned to avoid that which caused it hurt.

The brutality of the punishment was multiplied tenfold for Arrows: Vasic hadn’t only had his leg broken when he’d asked to go home as a child. He’d been deliberately burned then healed, not once, not twice, but over and over; had suffered electrical shocks; had been locked naked in an icy room until his extremities froze, only for him to then be put into overwhelming heat that made his nerve endings scream awake.

All before he was eight years old.

The worst thing was that it had been done by people he’d initially thought he could trust. His mentor, Patton, had doled out many of the worst punishments, his years on Jax having erased any empathic center he may have once had. A few of the other Arrows had tried to ameliorate the viciousness of Vasic’s training, but they’d been limited in what they could do, the rebellion that had begun to simmer in the ranks not yet strong enough to emerge from the shadows.

Vasic’s brain was now hardwired to equate emotion with pain and to strengthen the message with further punishment, agony spearing down into his spine. A perfect loop that had been programmed to end in death should the subject continue to defy the conditioning. It was fortunate, therefore, that he didn’t have the physiological triggers in his mind that backed up the psychological coercion.

The dissonance could not kill him.

He had no idea how Judd had broken those deeply embedded telepathic controls without suffering severe brain damage. Vasic wouldn’t have been able to do so without Aden, his own telepathy lacking the required delicacy. The other Arrow’s expertise had been hard-won, the cost paid in agonizing convulsions that could’ve left him brain-dead.

Now only a single critical tripwire remained in Vasic’s mind—one that would give him a sharp, pointed warning should his telekinesis threaten to rage out of control. Vasic didn’t know how many other Arrows Aden had helped escape the vise around their minds, but it wasn’t a small number—and it included Abbot. What Aden couldn’t fix was the long-term psychological impact of the extreme dissonance on many of them. While Vasic could tell his mind emotion and sensation didn’t mean pain, it had learned otherwise too early.

Learning the opposite would take time, but Vasic would rewire himself to accept the pleasure that was Ivy’s lips on his skin, her skin against his. If that was all he’d ever have of her, he would experience the memories in all their glory. Exhaling in silence, he opened his mental Ivy file and located the one of her whispering to him about Turkish Delight. He’d researched the candy during a night shift, found a store in San Francisco that sold it, and now started to scroll through their online listings.

Stop, said the part of him that had made him confess his perfidy to her, forced him to show Ivy the hands so soaked in blood, the stain was permanent, she isn’t for you.

Vasic ignored that voice. He’d torn himself to shreds today with what he’d done, but he’d hurt Ivy, too. That had never been his aim. This candy made her happy. So he’d order it now, pick it up tomorrow. Taking care of her was his reason for being.

THE world went to hell at eleven the next morning.

Ivy was stomping around in the woods with an equally grumpy Rabbit when Vasic blasted a message to everyone in the compound. Shield and maintain until advised otherwise. Do not venture into the Net.

Reaching for him, she touched blank nothingness, as if he’d gone too far for her telepathy to reach. It was tempting to jack into the Net, read the datastreams, but she knew Vasic. He wouldn’t send a warning like that unless it was necessary. Leaving the woods, she walked to the center of the compound, the other Es already converging on the snow.

“Ivy,” Isaiah said the instant she was within earshot. “He’s your Arrow. What do you know?”

Yep, the guy was still an arrogant ass. “Nothing you don’t.” She hadn’t even spoken to her obstinate male this morning—he’d been gone when she woke, and hadn’t turned up for breakfast as he usually did. When she’d looked out the window to see if he was just avoiding her, having every intention of hunting him down, she’d seen him with his unit, the nine of them locked in a taut discussion.

An hour ago, she’d returned from a conversation with a couple of the other Es to find a box of Turkish Delight on the kitchen table. Ivy wanted to alternately throw it at his head and haul him down so she could share the taste with him, mouth to mouth.

Concetta raised a hesitant hand. “I was on the Net before the warning came.” Lower lip trembling when everyone focused on her, the shy empath ducked her head.

Rabbit ran over to nuzzle at her leg in an attempt to help. Aware the other woman was afraid of her pet, Ivy went to call him back, but to her surprise, Concetta bent down to very carefully stroke Rabbit.

“Well?” one of the men urged.

“Can it, Chang.” Isaiah walked over to crouch next to Concetta, his next words too low to carry.

Nodding, the tiny blonde allowed him to gently tug her to her feet. “I was looking at the infection, and”—she locked her fingers together, flexed, unflexed—“I saw the leading edge of a power wave smashing through the Net, like during the anchor collapse in Australia, but this was worse.” Her amber eyes stark, she shook her head. “I expected to go down under it, but I haven’t felt anything.”

Neither had Ivy. It took a split second for her to guess why. Oh God!

“The Arrows,” Jaya whispered as Ivy glanced frantically around the compound. “They must’ve protected us.”

“Where are they?” she asked, unable to see a single black-clad figure. “Where are the Arrows?” Vasic! Answer me!

The others scattered in a rush of pounding boots over snow.

Abdomen twisting as she thought of the blank absence when she’d reached for Vasic, Ivy fought her nausea to bend down to her loyal pet. “Rabbit, where’s Vasic? Find him. Find Vasic.”

Her dog took off toward their cabin. Racing after him, she saw her Arrow seated against the far wall, his open eyes bleeding ruby tears, and his hands fisted so tight, she could count each tendon and bone. “Vasic!”

No answer.

Collapsing to her knees in front of him, she sucked in a breath. No iris, no pupil, his gaze was the pure black that denoted a massive use of power. A vein pulsed dangerously on his temple, drops of perspiration rolled down to his jaw, his breath ragged but present. When she touched her fingers to his wrist, she found his pulse was running so fast, she couldn’t count the separate beats.

Dawning horror in her veins.

The incident, whatever it was, wasn’t yet over. Vasic was holding the shield that had protected her and the other Es.

Jaya, have you found Abbot? she asked, telling herself she could give in to the clawing panic inside her after Vasic was safe. Is he conscious?

Yes, but I can’t reach him, Jaya replied, her mental voice shaky. Isaiah’s Arrow was with Abbot, and he just lost consciousness. Isaiah’s checking his vital signs.

One hand on Vasic’s rigid leg, his muscles strained to the breaking point, she touched base with the others. The news was not good. Six Arrows are down, she telepathed to the group once she’d heard back from everyone. That leaves only Vasic, Abbot, and Mariko to hold the shield. I know Vasic told us to stay out of the Net, but we need to help them.

Unanimous agreement.

Already on the PsyNet, Ivy ignored the ferocious turbulence beyond the transparent black of the Arrow shield, forced thoughts of her parents aside, and talked the others through how to merge shields. The resulting creation was ragged but effective.

It was also . . . different.

Where the Arrow shield was a hard dome, the one below it rippled with the kind of hazy color seen in a bubble of sunlit water, and appeared as thin and as fragile. Yet when part of the Arrow shield cracked, Abbot losing his battle with unconsciousness, the empathic shield didn’t collapse under the strain. It simply flowed with the storm surge until there were no more waves, the PsyNet quiet.

And still Vasic’s jaw remained clenched, his blood crimson against the gold of his skin.

VASIC telepathed Judd the instant the shock wave stopped pummeling their shield. I need your pack and DarkRiver to make sure the empaths come to no harm. There’s an emergency in the Net.

The fallen Arrow responded at once. We’ll take care of it.

Vasic was conscious of Ivy’s worried voice, her touch—so soft against his jaw—but he couldn’t sink into it, couldn’t reassure her. Shooting through the disordered skies of the PsyNet, he came to a section of Alaska that had collapsed into gaping nothingness.

The PsyNet no longer existed beyond the point where he stood.

On the ground, there’d be carnage, people falling where they stood as their biofeedback link was severed, resulting in death—an agony that would be over in seconds for most. The toughest might last a minute. Unless . . . Vasic quickly married up this section of the Net with the physical region and realized it was centered on the abandoned Sunshine Station. Not only was the station uninhabited, there were no other outposts for miles in any direction.

That didn’t mean there’d be no casualties—the psychic shock wave had been brutal.

He saw Kaleb and Aden working together to seal the breach before it could widen and swallow up further sections of the Net. Aden was being careful not to overtly showcase his strength, but anyone who thought about it afterward would realize he shouldn’t have been able to work side by side with a cardinal without flagging.

Vasic had no doubt Krychek had the brute strength to stop the damage from spreading, but he couldn’t do that and seal it up at the same time. Not with a wound this large. Aden.

Infection caused the sector to collapse, his partner replied. Entire region is riddled with it.

Vasic was almost expecting the news. Sunshine Station was the known site zero for the infection. What was surprising was that no one had spotted the virulence of the infection here, given that the region was under heavy watch. Krychek, the squad, Ming, all had placed observers here.

Vasic. Krychek’s obsidian voice. You need to head to Anchorage. Images he could use for a teleport lock poured into his mind. It’s not in the collapse zone, but I’m picking up reports of sudden, inexplicable violence alongside the expected shock wave injuries. It may be an outbreak.

Vasic opened his eyes to see Ivy in front of him, her hand holding a bloody towel she must’ve used to clean up his face. “I have to go,” was all he had time to say before he left, taking with him the remembered sensation of Ivy’s fingertips just brushing his own as he ’ported into carnage.

During the cleanup in Sunshine, he’d seen corpses with their brains bashed in, others who’d been stabbed over and over, still others who’d been beaten with whatever was nearby. So he wasn’t surprised to find himself in the middle of a dead-end street overrun with the violent mad. He saw two other Arrows, both at the open end of the affected street. A Tk and a telepath, they were managing to stop the swarm from escaping to spread out over the rest of the city, but the tide was rising.

There was also a changeling—a predator—who must’ve been on the street when the world went insane in the space of a few seconds. He was protecting a group of roughly fifteen human and changeling schoolchildren behind him, his claws slicing at the mad as the terrified children huddled against the wall.

Another man, a human, was bleeding badly from a gut wound but trying to calm the children. A teacher, Vasic surmised.

Several bodies littered the street that had obviously been cleared of snow only a short time before.

Taking it all in a single glance, he began to telekinetically pick up and slam the crazed against the walls of the buildings around them, hard enough to slam them into unconsciousness. He tried not to use fatal force, but his priority had to be the children and the other noninfected he could see fighting off those who’d been driven insane by the disease.

He knew full well he might only be delaying the inevitable.

No one from Sunshine had been able to be saved.

“Behind you!”

Turning at the shouted cry from the injured teacher, he smashed back a middle-aged woman who’d been about to sink a butcher knife into his back. The knife flew out of her hand to land on the street with a thick clump, her neck snapping to loll her head forward as she hit the wall at the wrong angle. Then there was no more time to think.