Shield of Winter

Chapter 44

Only twenty-three and worn-out, worn-down. So many needed the help of an E after Silence, hundreds of thousands in agony . . .

Zie Zen to Vasic

IVY.

Having helped carry another stretcher to a waiting ambulance to free up a paramedic, Ivy looked up at Vasic’s psychic call. I’m here.

There’s a survivor. Not a child. Not an empath.

A spurt of energy from somewhere deep within. Where?

Number 24, apartment 5B.

Ivy stumbled and ran to the building as fast as her enervated and chilled body could take her, the snow a white lace curtain in front of her eyes and the hammer in her head a pounding drumbeat. When she entered the apartment, it was to find Vasic crouched in front of an open closet. He rose to walk to her, touched his fingers to her face. “The blood vessels have burst in your eyes.”

Ivy hadn’t even thought about that. “Let me wipe my face and wash out my eyes so I don’t terrify the survivor.” It’d help a little at least.

Vasic said nothing but shifted his hold to her nape and nudged her to a bathroom. “The surv—” she began, conscious of the air warming around her.

“I have a telepathic eye on him.” Stopping inside the tiled enclosure, he waited as she washed out her eyes using tepid water. When she was done, he drew her close to pat her skin dry with tissues he’d grabbed from a nearby dispenser.

Though his face betrayed nothing, she had the sense he was furious. “Vasic.” She curled her hand over the solid bones of his wrist.

“Do you think,” he said in a quiet tone that raised every hair on her body, “you could attempt not to kill yourself in front of me?”

She flinched at the whip of words. “I was trying to help.” It hadn’t been much in the scheme of things, but neither had she been totally useless.

“How will a dead empath help anyone?” Throwing away the tissues he’d used, he undid her snow-wet coat and ’porting it away, brought in his Arrow jacket. Zipping her up in it, he said, “Do it again, and I’ll have you back in the orchard so fast, you won’t have time to draw breath.”

Unadulterated anger had her ripping herself from his grasp. “Don’t threaten me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m taking care of you, since you seem incapable of doing it yourself.” He went to step out of the bathroom with that harsh judgment.

Ivy grabbed his upper arm, seeing through his cool ferocity to a violent darkness beneath. “Talk to me.” It was an order. “You’re hurting.”

No sign of a thaw. “We have a situation to handle.”

Placing herself in front of him, she shook her head. “You’re just as important.” She cupped his face, held that icy gaze, and let him see her own determined fury. “You know I’m stubborn enough to stand here forever.”

His jaw worked under her hand . . . and then he finally lowered his forehead to touch hers. “We found children,” he said, voice raw. “Trapped with their maddened guardians, with no way out. Tiny limbs, tiny faces, fragile bones.”

Eyes gritty, Ivy held him close, kissing his temple, his cheek, as she stroked his hair. “I’m so sorry.” She knew he’d carry the images with him forever. That was who he was—a man who cared, who remembered. It made her heart hurt for him, for her Arrow who would not cry but who felt more deeply than anyone she’d ever before known.

“The little girl you helped me save?” she said, in an effort to ease a little of his pain. “Her name is Harriet, and she’s safe and sound.” Touching his mind, she ’pathed him an image Harriet’s mother had sent to her phone after Ivy called the woman to ask how Harriet was doing. “See, she’s warm and snuggled up in bed, her favorite toy beside her.”

Allowing Ivy to hold him, comfort him, for another minute, Vasic raised his head and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you for being mine, Ivy Jane.”

“Always,” she said, voice wet, then followed him out to the closet, where she crouched down to look into the tiny space within.

The thin man inside had to be in his late twenties, his teak-colored skin soaked in sweat. Having shoved himself totally to the back of the closet that appeared to hold neatly ironed shirts and pants, he whimpered at the sight of her. She wanted to absorb his fear, his hurt, but aware of Vasic barely leashed behind her, she controlled the instinct. As evidenced by the headache that hadn’t decreased in intensity over the past hour, her senses were too battered to take more . . . and she had no desire to end up in the orchard.

Because her Arrow would carry out his threat, of that she had not a single doubt.

“Hi.” She took a nonaggressive cross-legged position on the floor. “I’m Ivy.”

No answer.

She didn’t move, kept her face calm and reassuring until he gave a jerky nod. “Miguel.”

“Nice to meet you, Miguel.” She tilted her head slightly to the side. “I’ve never said that to anyone in a closet before.”

His lips curved shakily, then fell, his handsome face crumpling in on itself. “What’s happening?” It was a plea, his eyes wet.

“I don’t know, but your survival might be our first clue as to how to stop it.”

Miguel began to cry, the great gulping sobs shaking his entire frame. “I’m the most broken person I know,” he said between the sobs. “My Silence is so flawed, my family unit disinherited me.”

Ivy bit back a pulse of anger . . . and saw the bright glimmer of an answer on its heels, but her abused mind suddenly ran up against a wall. Enough, it said, stop.

VASIC caught Ivy before she would’ve fallen forward, smashing her head against the open door of the closet. Lifting her in his arms, her face tucked against his neck, he hauled Miguel out using his telekinesis. “Running will get you nothing—you don’t want to be hunted by an Arrow.”

The young male trembled so hard his bones had to be banging against one another, but Vasic had no mercy in him with Ivy so motionless in his arms. “Stay in this apartment—give your details to the Enforcement officers and tell them I’ve authorized you to remain here. Do not run.”

“I-I w-won’t.”

Leaving the man with his teeth chattering and his eyes glassy, Vasic teleported Ivy not to their bedroom, but directly to Sascha Duncan, using the other woman’s face as the lock. He’d expected to find himself in a night-dark home, but the empath and her mate were up.

Dressed in a short blue nightgown, Sascha was rocking her baby. Her gasp had barely cleared her mouth when Lucas Hunter’s claws were at Vasic’s throat.

“Ivy!” Sascha’s cardinal gaze flew to Vasic’s precious cargo. “What happened?”

Lucas withdrew his claws from Vasic’s throat, but Vasic felt the thin lines of blood beading on his skin, a silent warning from the predator whose lair he’d invaded. Striding over to his mate, the leopard alpha took the baby from her arms, cradling the child to his bare chest in a way that ensured Vasic couldn’t see the infant’s face.

Sascha had instinctively done the same. Protecting their child, making sure Vasic couldn’t get an image to use as a facial lock. He understood the instinct; he wouldn’t trust himself, either.

Placing Ivy carefully on a table that was the closest flat surface, he told Sascha what Ivy had done today, watched the cardinal empath place her hand on Ivy’s forehead, tiny lines flaring out from the corners of her night-sky eyes.

Lucas, having stepped into another room, returned without their child and with a robe for his mate, his green eyes feral as he helped her into it. “Never, ever,” he said quietly when he reached Vasic, “do that again, or I will rip out your throat.”

Aware now of exactly how fast the leopard alpha could move, Vasic knew that was a real risk. But—“I’ll chance it if Ivy’s life is in danger.”

Lucas’s gaze didn’t become any less feral, but folding his arms, he shook his head. “Can’t deny you have balls.” His eyes went to Ivy’s supine body. “I understand about taking care of what matters, but you have to understand I have a child as well as a mate to protect.”

“I have no intention of ever causing either harm.”

“Use my face as the lock next time, is that clear?”

Again, Vasic thought about it. “You’re not always with Sascha.”

“Jesus, you’re either fucking crazy or in love.” The words were a growl. “Yeah, I might not always be with Sascha, but I’ll know where she is, and the slight delay won’t matter—having your jugular split open, on the other hand, will leave Ivy with no shield.”

“Agreed.” Lucas’s logic was sound. “I apologize for my intrusion.”

Raising an eyebrow, the leopard alpha snorted. “You’re not sorry in the least, but you figure it’s better to be friends with me than otherwise.”

Vasic sometimes wondered at those in the Net who considered the changelings too driven by their primal natures to be intelligent adversaries. Clearly, none had ever met one of the felines. Now the other man said, “How bad is New York?”

“Bad.” Vasic never shifted his attention off Ivy. “Initial estimates are that we lost four hundred Psy tonight, the majority dead, a fifth badly infected.” All of whom would slip into irrevocable comas if the past pattern held true.

“Approximately fifty humans and three nonpredatory changelings dead, caught in the middle.” An eagle had ID’d the changeling casualties. “One adult male survivor, talent: psychometry. The other Psy survivors were all empaths.” His race was imploding, and there seemed to be nothing any of them could do about it.

“We also heard reports of a second outbreak on the heels of the New York one.”

Vasic nodded, the data having come in during the past fifteen minutes. “Seattle. Krychek’s taken charge there, but the overall situation is spiraling rapidly out of control.” And it was causing Ivy to hurt herself. “Do empaths have a self-destructive streak?”

Lucas shot him a shrewd look. “No,” he said, his tone low. “But they do have a tendency to put themselves last. An empath’s capacity to care is what makes her who she is.” His eyes lingered on his mate. “It’s also an E’s greatest weakness.”

It was at that instant that Vasic truly understood the battle his great-grandfather had faced in attempting to protect his Sunny from her most profound instincts. “I don’t care if it makes her hate me,” he said to Lucas Hunter, “I will not permit her to sacrifice herself.”

The other man’s lips curved slightly. “When an E loves, she loves with every ounce of her being. She might be so angry with you she can’t speak, might possibly throw things at your head”—a very feline glint in his eye—“but she will never hate you. That’s the one advantage you have when it comes to protecting her.”

“Are you advising me to manipulate my . . .” He didn’t have a word for what Ivy was to him, used the one with which the man beside him was familiar. It fit. “My mate?”

Rubbing at his stubbled jaw, Lucas said, “‘Manipulate’ is a strong word. I’m talking more about a gentle reminder that her life isn’t only her own . . . that it would break you to lose her.”

That, Vasic thought, was the absolute truth.

Sascha rose from her position bent over Ivy right then. “I think she just burned herself out,” she said, rubbing absently at her lower back with one hand. “Vasic, can you carry her to one of the cushions?” She nodded at the large, flat cushions that lay scattered on the floor. “It’d be better for her than a hard table.”

Vasic didn’t do it using his telekinesis. Didn’t want the distance. Gathering the woman who owned his battered heart gently in his arms, he carried her to a cushion set away from the windows that told him this wasn’t a cabin on the ground, but an aerie in the branches of a tree. When Ivy curled up on the cushion, it unraveled a dark knot in his chest. Ivy?

No verbal or telepathic response, but her lips tugged up at the corners and she rubbed her face against the hand he’d placed on her cheek. It was enough. Sleep. I’ll be here. He’d always be there, even if he had to tear the malfunctioning parts of the gauntlet from his body himself. He didn’t trust her to look out for herself.

Standing only when she seemed to fall into a deep, natural sleep, he turned to find Sascha had moved to the kitchen area with her mate, the couple talking quietly to one another.

“Here.” The cardinal E passed him a glass full of what looked like a nutrient mix. “Annoying as it is to admit, this stuff is still the best thing to rehydrate and reenergize after a psychic burn.”

He thought of Ivy complaining about the lack of flavor in nutrient meals, knew she’d scrunch up her nose when he gave her the same kind of drink after she woke. Shifting to make sure she remained in his line of sight, he accepted the drink. The alpha couple had no reason to cause him harm, and he needed the energy boost.

“I think you should come to New York,” he said after finishing the glass. “Ivy’s mentioned several times that she wished you were nearby.”

Sascha glanced at Lucas. “That’s what we were just discussing.”

From the look on the other male’s face, a “discussion” wasn’t quite what they’d been having, but the leopard alpha kept his relaxed position against the counter, arms folded. “We’ll both be coming,” he said, “but only for a short period.”

“You don’t want to be away from your daughter.” Vasic knew they’d never bring a vulnerable innocent into a city in chaos.

Sascha leaned her head against Lucas’s shoulder, her mate’s arm going around her waist while her hand settled on his heart. Their movements were so unconscious Vasic wondered how many times they’d stood exactly this way. And he thought of how Ivy liked to tuck herself against him, the way he’d cradle the back of her head with one hand, his other arm around her. It . . . eased things in him to hold her, to know he had her trust. He could no longer exist without it.

“I think I can probably last three days,” Sascha said, then twisted her mouth. “Okay, maybe two. She’s so tiny, and I can’t bear to think of her crying for me.”

Lucas dropped a kiss to Sascha’s hair as Vasic said, “There’ll be an outbreak in that time frame if the infection continues to escalate at its present pace.”

Shadows in Sascha’s eyes. “We’ll be there as soon as possible,” she said into the hush of the forest night. “I want to speak to Alice one more time first.”

“I’ll have to get in touch with the WaterSky eagles,” Lucas added, “clear my presence in their territory. Shouldn’t be an issue as we’re on good terms.”

Vasic nodded. “I’ll take Ivy home now.” She curled immediately into his chest when he lifted her into his arms, and it felt as if she’d burrowed into the raw vulnerability of his unprotected heart. He didn’t fight it. He was hers. It was as simple as that. “Do you want me to return to take you to New York?”

“No, save your energy,” Lucas responded. “We’ll catch a high-speed jet.”

Vasic left without further words, needing Ivy safe in an environment he could control. A wide-awake Rabbit jumped up onto the bed the instant Vasic laid her down on her side. Nuzzling at her as if to make certain she was okay, the dog settled down in front of her. Vasic did a security sweep of the rest of the apartment, the outer corridor, the two unoccupied apartments on this level, as well as any entrances onto the floor, then checked in with Abbot to find the other Tk was with Jaya at the hospital. It meant he had to clear Abbot and Jaya’s apartment, too, but the task didn’t take long.

His next contact was Aden. “Update?” he asked over the comm built into his gauntlet.

The news was harsh. “Krychek’s had confirmation from the NetMind and DarkMind that the entire span of the Net is riddled with the fine, invisible tendrils. Quarantining or slicing away parts of the population on the theory that some sections might be clean is no longer an option.”

That meant the only way to save their race was to find a cure. Before Vasic could respond, Aden told him something worse. “Nonempathic children aren’t immune; they’re carriers. Impossible to know when or if the infection will go active.”

Vasic’s mind filled with the image of an innocent little girl named Harriet. “That eliminates the possibility of an uninfected next generation.” It also cut off the option of segregating the young to give them a higher chance of survival.

“Krychek’s suggested the squad force the Es to defect, set up a clean network.”

Vasic might once have agreed with that tactic. Now, he shook his head in an immediate negative. “It’d kill something in Ivy.” He had no compunction in making her rest or otherwise take care of herself, but he knew his E. Ivy was a fighter, and she was loyal. To make her watch while those she loved perished, while millions screamed for help, it would do damage that could never be healed.

“I guessed that would be the case. I’ll touch base with the others, give the Es the choice.”

Vasic didn’t think any would accept it. “How many outbreaks since Seattle?”

“Five. Scattered around the world.”

Time was running out. “Wake me only if there’s no other option. I need to recharge.”

Double-checking the security after signing off, Vasic stripped and showered in Ivy’s bathroom. It only took a short second to grab fresh jeans from his room. Putting his boots near her bed so he could access them in case of an emergency, he was about to lie down next to her when he received a comm transmission on his gauntlet.

He stood, walked to the doorway so as not to disturb Ivy’s sleep, and answered the call. “Grandfather.”