Visions of Heat

CHAPTER 3

Faith had never left the compound on her own. They'd put her inside twenty-one years ago, telling her that her mind couldn't survive in the outside world, that the visions would come too thick and fast if she lived closely with others. She'd had no reason to disbelieve them and over the years, her home had become her chosen prison, a place she rarely left.

But today, she was going to go out into the unknown. Her conscious mind had finally understood what it was that her subconscious had spent months preparing her for—a search for answers. It was clear to her that to find those answers, she had to speak to someone who had nothing to do with either the Psy Council or NightStar. Both her PsyClan and the Council had vested interests. They wouldn't tell her what she most needed to know—whether these dark visions were the first stirrings of an inevitable madness, or whether they indicated something far more treacherous: the awakening of a facet of her ability she had no desire to face.

Though she lived in almost complete isolation, she knew everything she needed to know for this journey. There was no way to block the highways of the PsyNet from flowing with information that buzzed in the real world. Gossip had a way of infiltrating even the strongest defenses. That gossip had brought her news of a Psy who'd dropped out of the Net.

Sascha Duncan.

The Council had made it known that Sascha was a fundamentally flawed cardinal too weak to hold the Net link, a link that provided biofeedback no Psy could live without. And yet Sascha had survived.

The renegade Psy was the only person Faith could come up with who'd have nothing to gain by lying, nothing to lose by telling the complete truth. Everyone else was linked to the PsyNet. Therefore everyone else could betray her, whether it was by choice or by accident. Sascha was the one. It was logical.

She preferred not to remember the dream she'd had a few weeks ago in which she'd seen the face of a leopard staring back at her with feral hunger, preferred not to try to understand what her ability was attempting to tell her. Because sometimes, too much foreknowledge was a curse.

Leaving the compound was going to be difficult, but not impossible. The PsyClan guards were interested in keeping people out. No one had ever thought that Faith would attempt an escape. Taking a deep breath, she slung on the small backpack then calmly opened her back door and walked out into the night.

She knew precisely where she was going. There was a very small section of the outer fence that fell into a blind spot of the motion sensors and wasn't quite covered by the sweeping cameras. It had probably not even seemed like a weakness to NightStar Security. No criminal would ever be able to work out the exact location, and the live guards ensured that that part was under near constant surveillance, especially since many of the guards also had the ability to tele-pathically scan the area.

Faith had figured out how to deflect the scanners years ago, boredom and isolation proving fertile ground for invention. More importantly, she was certain she could climb the fence in the short window of time after one guard went around the corner and before the other started to turn. She knew that because two months ago, she'd suddenly started coming out here at night and doing exactly that, going over the fence and then back into the compound without alerting anyone.

She'd thought she was doing it because she needed a challenge. Of course, with an F-Psy of her capabilities, nothing was ever that easy. Tonight, it took her ten minutes to walk the distance from the back door to the part of the outer fence she was aiming for—the inner fence had never presented her with any real problems. Her eyes picked up the form of a guard turning the corner on her right. A second guard would appear ten seconds later with Psy precision. She started climbing, silent and careful.

Vaughn crouched on a large branch overhanging the compound that continued to fascinate him. He'd intended to infiltrate it tonight and find out what lay behind the compu-tronic and Psy security. But that was no longer necessary— his prey was coming to him.

Her hair was a red flame despite the darkness and part of him wanted to growl at her for being stupid enough not to cover or contain the waist-length mass, but another part of him was impressed by the quick, almost catlike way she scaled the fence. She didn't hesitate, didn't look around. It was as if she'd done it a hundred times.

Landing on the forest side, she walked in a straight line from the fence and into the surrounding trees until she was hidden from the sight of the guard now turning the corner. Vaughn padded along the treetops and came to rest almost on top of her as she paused to pull something from her pack.

A small light from her watch soon illuminated what appeared to be a computer printout of the surrounding area—a crude map that showed nothing of changeling routes or territorial markers. After a minute, she folded it up and put it back in her pack. Then she started walking. If he'd been in human form, he would've frowned. She was heading deeper into DarkRiver territory rather than toward Tahoe.

She wouldn't get very far on foot, but there was something about her that made the fur on the back of his neck rise. As a sentinel, he was used to trusting his instincts and this time they said that this woman had to be watched. Carefully. Very, very carefully.

Faith felt as if she were being stalked. An irrational reaction—she was alone in the forest. But if all went well, it wouldn't be for long. She didn't know the location of Sascha Duncan's home; however, she'd reasoned that if she ventured deep enough into leopard territory, one of them would find her and take her where she needed to go. A tenuous plan, but based on what she'd researched about the territorial nature of predatory changelings, it had a good chance of success. Heading to DarkRiver's business headquarters in San Francisco would've been far easier but she couldn't chance exposure.

After dropping out of the Net, Sascha Duncan had been labeled off-limits to all Psy. Going near her without Council authorization equaled automatic rehabilitation—a euphemistic label for the complete psychic brainwipe that destroyed the punished Psy's personality and higher mental skills. Faith knew enough of her own worth to understand she'd escape that fate, but she didn't want anyone becoming aware of her actions. The same part of her that knew this had to be kept a secret also knew she'd find an unlocked car on a nearby forest road.

And there it was. The car. She opened the door and slid in. Bending forward, she pulled open the control panel in order to bypass the computronic security. This wasn't something her ability had told her she'd need—it was a hobby, something that kept her mind occupied in the hours she spent alone. As a result, she could bypass most computronic hardware in seconds.

This time it took five and then the car was hers. Taking her mind back to the driving lessons she'd received in case of emergency, she turned it in the direction she wanted to go and pushed the accelerator. She had less than three days to find her answers. If she wasn't back in the compound before that deadline, they'd launch a full-scale manhunt. They might even use the excuse to try to smash through her PsyNet shields.

After all, she was a billion-dollar asset.

The man in Vaughn wanted to swear, but the animal simply acted, racing parallel to the car for almost a hundred meters before taking off in another direction. Lucas's lair was still over an hour away by car, but Vaughn wasn't taking any chances. Why the hell would one of the Psy venture this far into DarkRiver territory if she wasn't out to reach Sascha? And he knew the redhead was Psy—he'd seen her eyes.

Night-sky. Pinpricks of white against a pure black background.

His powerful heart was thumping hard by the time he made it to where he needed to be. Walking out to the center of the road, he stood in wait. Not only was he way too quick to be run over, most Psy would be so rattled at seeing a live jaguar that they wouldn't be able to do anything other than stop. They might have tried to kill their emotions, but some reactions came from the most primal core and those could not be controlled. No matter what the Psy believed.

She turned the corner, lights on low beam. They had little effect on his night vision. He watched her. Watched and waited.

Predatory eyes glowed out of the darkness. With no time to think, Faith slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a rocking halt. The huge hunting cat in front of her didn't move, didn't react like an animal should have. Unprepared, despite all her planning, for the dangerous reality of coming face-to-face with a live leopard, she sat in the car, hands clenched around the steering wheel.

The leopard seemed to get impatient when she didn't make any further moves. Prowling up to the car, it jumped onto the hood and she had to force herself not to react. It was big. And heavy. The hood of the car was slowly buckling under those powerful claws. Then it snapped its teeth at her through the windscreen.

It wanted her to get out.

Faith knew without a doubt that there was no way it was going to let her go any farther down the road. Though she'd never before met a changeling, every part of her said she was in the very real presence of one. And if she was wrong?

Not seeing any other logical course of action, she turned off the engine, picked up her backpack, and opened the door. The cat landed in front of her as she stood frozen beside the vehicle, belatedly conscious of her ignorance about the protocol governing interspecies contact. Nobody had ever taught her how to speak to the changelings. She didn't even know if they communicated like other sentient races.

"Hello?" she tried.

The cat pressed against her leg, nudging her away from the car until she stood alone in the pitch black of the road, a very large, very dangerous creature padding around her.

Hello, she tried again. It was a cautious and extremely polite mental page, something considered acceptable in exigent circumstances.

He lifted his head and growled at her, teeth gleaming even in the heavy darkness that cloaked the world. She withdrew immediately. The cat didn't like her mind attempting to touch his, recognized what she'd been doing. Someone had taught him shielding beyond natural barriers. And there was only one person who could've done that.

"Do you know Sascha?"

This time the teeth that were bared at her made her want to take a step backward but she stopped herself. She was Psy—she felt no fear. But all sentient beings had a survival instinct and hers was now asking what she'd do if the cats didn't want anyone near their personal Psy. The answer was that she had no real choice but to continue.

"I need to speak to Sascha," she said. "I have very little time. Please take me to her."

The cat growled again and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up in a reaction her body would usually have controlled. There was something very territorial, very aggressive about the sound. Then it walked away a short distance and looked back at her. Surprised at the easy acquiescence, she followed. Instead of heading up the road, it led her into the forest, deep enough that they were hidden from the road. Then it marked a tree with its claw.

She didn't understand until the cat nudged at her legs hard enough to collapse them under her. "Okay, I get it. I'll wait here." That was when strong jaws closed around her wrist. She froze. It wasn't hurting her but she could feel the power of those teeth. One press and she'd lose her hand. "What? What do you want?" She fought her need to reach out with her mind and speak to it on a level that was normal and familiar. Teeth scraped over her watch.

"Okay." She waited for him to release her and he took his time doing so—the cat was very definitely male. Her eyes met his and she saw the sharp intelligence, the power and the fury. Dangerous and wild, he was also the most exotic thing she'd ever seen in her life. The urge to stroke her hands through the fur so close was almost impossible to resist. Except she knew this was one cat who'd never allow such an experimental touch.

Finally, he let go. She removed her watch and he took it in his teeth. Then he was gone, a blur so fast she barely caught the movement. Alone again, she shivered in the chill of the night and wrapped her arms around her pack. Would he come back? What if someone else found her here? The possibility of being surrounded by more of those cats made her reconsider the logic of what she was doing. They were unquestionably not Psy; therefore the rules she'd based her preparations on didn't apply.

Pressing hard against the tree, Faith waited. She had no other option.

Vaughn walked out of the bedroom and into the living room of the aerie wearing only a faded pair of jeans. He held her watch in his hand. "It doesn't have a tracker."

Lucas frowned and reached out to take it. Vaughn felt the irrational urge to keep the slim metallic band for himself, a surge of possessiveness so unusual that it startled him. He handed it over.

"Let me see." Sascha peered at it from beside her mate. "It's relatively ordinary as far as Psy timepieces are concerned." She took it from Lucas and looked at the back. "Not engraved with any family designation."

"I thought you might be able to pick up something from it."

Sascha shook her head. "My psychometric skills are growing but this is too cold. I don't think your Psy places much emotional importance on it."

The oddness of the statement wasn't lost on any of the three. The Psy placed no emotional importance on anything.

"You said she came out of that compound in Tahoe you were asking about?"

"Scaled the fence like she didn't want anyone to see." He retrieved the watch, hiding it away in his pocket. Where no one else could touch it.

"I didn't think you Psy were much into the physical," Lucas said, and there was a vein of sensual teasing in the words that Vaughn felt as sharply as a knife blade, though he'd never before been affected by the open sexuality of the pack's mated pairs.

"Why don't we discuss it tonight, hmm?" Sascha leaned her back against Lucas's chest. "But that is unusual—did she do it with any skill?"

"Smooth as a cat." It was the highest compliment Vaughn knew how to give. "Like she'd done it before."

"Odd. And she said she wanted to see me?"

"Yes." There was no way Vaughn was going to take Sascha out there and he knew Lucas wouldn't allow it either. Psy couldn't be trusted. Not even pretty redheaded Psy with skin as soft as cream.

Sascha's night-sky eyes unfocused for an eerie second. "What did she look like?"

"Red hair." He'd never seen hair that deeply red, that luxuriously silky. The cat had wanted to play with it while the man had wanted to do much, much more intimate things. "Cardinal eyes."

Sascha stood up ruler-straight. "It can't be. Impossible."

Both men watched as she started to pace around the aerie.

Vaughn felt Lucas's possessiveness as if it were a physical being between them and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of where that emotion might spring from.

"What is it, Sascha?" Lucas caught her around the waist as she passed.

She leaned into the embrace. "I could be wrong, but red hair is common in one particular family in this area of the Psy. The NightStar line has an unusually high incidence of the recessive gene." Sascha sounded utterly Psy at that moment. That was to be expected. She hadn't been cat for much more than a few months. It would take time.

"NightStar line?" Lucas played his fingers through her hair.

"They're a group of related families who operate under the PsyClan NightStar."

"You said PsyClans were utilized by F-Psy." Vaughn crossed his arms, his fingers tingling with the urge to know what it would be like to comb through the flame-red silk of a woman who climbed as well as any she-cat he knew.

She nodded. "The NightStar family has a history of producing F-Psy. They're rare, but NightStar has always had at least one in every generation. Some weak, some powerful. The only cardinal I know of in this entire region is Faith NightStar."

Faith.

He tested the name on his tongue and it fit, felt right. "Her name is the same as her PsyClan?"

"Yes. I'm not sure why, but that's how it works for them. They align themselves to the PsyClan as a whole rather than to their individual families." She bit her lip. "Cardinal eyes and red hair plus an isolated location—it could be Faith, but I don't know every Psy in the area."

"You've never met her?" It was Lucas who asked.

"No. The F-Psy are like shadows. People rarely see them. Even lower Gradients are considered too important to be left unprotected."

"Why would an F-Psy want to see you?" Lucas looked at Vaughn. "She say anything else?"

"No. But she's been waiting for over an hour and a half now if she's where I left her." And for some reason, that made Vaughn edgy. "We need to take care of this."

"I want to speak to her," Sascha said.

"Absolutely not."

"No."

Both men spoke simultaneously, Lucas with the protective instincts of a mate and Vaughn with those of a sentinel. Sascha rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You two still haven't figured it out, have you? I'm never going to turn tame."

Lucas scowled.

"Neither of you knows how to deal with her, how to ask the questions that need to be asked. Vaughn probably terrified her into silence anyway." She turned those night-sky eyes on him.

"Psy don't feel fear." But her wrist had been very delicate under his teeth. "She's much smaller than you." And despite her height, Sascha was already fragile in comparison to the changelings.

Sascha nodded. "That would fit if she really is one of the F-Psy. Let's go. And don't even argue about it."

The low growl came from Lucas. Vaughn wisely left the room and went out onto the platform, using the chance to get out of his jeans—leaving the watch tucked safety inside—and shift. He was waiting there when Lucas and Sascha exited.

"Head out and scout the area. Sascha and I will be behind you in the car." Lucas didn't sound pleased and Vaughn couldn't blame him. "If you scent anything, let Sascha know."

Vaughn nodded. Sascha was now connected to the sentinels through the Web of Stars, a mental network that Vaughn wasn't completely comfortable with, but which did have its uses. Though they couldn't communicate telepathically, they could send each other emotions, feelings. That in itself made it different enough from the PsyNet to calm his more aggressive instincts.

With a further nod, he jumped off the aerie and onto the ground. The night air rushed past him in a cool caress and then the earth was soft under the pads of his paws. He began to run.