Silver Silence
Page 11

The negotiations, of course, had taken months.
Because . . . bears.
They might be the most illogical, most wild, and most impossible to understand changelings in the world. And she was about to go live with them. With Valentin. Who called her Starlight and asked her out for ice cream when he wasn’t attempting to aggravate her into an emotional reaction.
Grandmother, I think I’d rather start wearing head-to-toe body armor and chemically testing my food.
Think of it as an opportunity, Silver. How many other Psy can say they’ve lived with bears?
The answer was none. No rebels, no defectors, no one had ever infiltrated a bear den after Silence came into being.
That’s because most Psy would come out permanently discombobulated, she pointed out to her grandmother. Did you know the bear idea of courtship is to kidnap their mates off the streets?
Surely not.
Surely yes. If the kidnapped mate happened to be a bear, it wasn’t a major issue—bears expected that type of behavior. For all Silver knew, they encouraged it. But the last time it happened in Moscow, the chosen mate had been a human whose parents had called Enforcement and filed kidnapping charges.
Valentin had turned up to personally explain that their daughter was being courted and in no danger whatsoever. He’d confirmed she was free to come home at any time. The parents had thought him mad. Until their daughter returned, glowing and happily mated to a bear who’d dressed up in a suit and tie for the occasion; he’d also permitted his mate to give him a haircut.
Silver didn’t think she’d ever seen a bear so neatly pressed and polished.
“I wanted to make a good impression,” he’d said with a sheepish smile when interviewed by a local comm station. “I don’t want my in-laws to be mad at me for our entire mating.”
He’d had no need for concern. The last time the parents spoke to the media—having gained a local profile after the kidnapping—they’d gushed over how much their daughter’s mate adored her, and how the bears were “just the loveliest people you could imagine.”
The bear ability to be forgiven for their actions appeared to be a mysterious law of nature. One to which Silver had no intention of falling prey.
If it gets to be too much, send an SOS, her grandmother said, her tone solemn. I still trust some people without question. I’ll get you out.
Having finished dressing, Silver looked for her shoes before realizing she was in no shape to balance on four-inch heels. I can survive bears, Grandmother. I’m a Mercant. Family legend said they had once been the loyal knights of a king. Whether that was true or not, they were a family that had never lost sight of itself, no matter who flexed their muscles in the PsyNet.
A clan of bears wouldn’t defeat her.
Neither would their alpha.
Chapter 5
Mate. Family. Clan. That is our heart’s heart.
Loyalty. Honor. Courage. StoneWater.
—Words carved into the ceiling of the entrance to Denhome
SILVER WAS A fucking queen, Valentin thought when she opened the door of her hospital room and stepped out. Not a princess, dewy-eyed and soft. A queen, regal, and with a way of looking down her nose at him that said he was a lowly peasant. He felt like one, too, though he wasn’t only taller and bigger than her; he was wearing heavy work boots while she was barefoot.
Her feet were narrow and pale, her toenails polished and squared. As polished and precise as she was. A neatly tailored suit jacket lay over the white shirt she’d tucked into her skirt. Notwithstanding the fact she’d almost died mere hours earlier, she now had her hair back in its usual neat coil—and damn but he’d go down on his knees and beg if she’d promise to let it down for him. Then he’d tumble her into his lap and—
Focus, Valentin.
Aside from her bare feet and the paleness of her skin, Silver could’ve been about to step into a work meeting. Except his Starlight would never go anywhere in clothes that were wrinkled, and these bore inevitable marks from the medics’ hasty removal.
“You’ll need more clothes,” he said, trying to figure out how to get her to agree to his exit strategy. No one else was going to see Silver Mercant with bare feet, that much he knew.
“I’ll ask my grandmother to arrange it.” She glanced down the hallway, the elegant line of her throat making him want to nuzzle her, draw in the ice and fire of her scent straight from the source. “When did she leave?”
“A couple of minutes ago. Said she had plans to put in motion.” Telling his bear to settle down until they had Silver in StoneWater territory, he scratched his jaw, only then realizing he’d forgotten to shave. If—when—he courted Silver into a kiss, he’d have to see if his stubble was too rough for her skin. “You have anything but suits in your closet?”
“No, I sleep this way and wake up perfectly pressed.”
Grinning at the cool comment that made him want to kiss her until she melted, he put his hands on his hips. “Tell your babushka to pack jeans or other tough pants, T-shirts, sweaters, stuff suitable for a little rough and tumble.”
“I don’t intend to rough and tumble with anyone.” Those extraordinary eyes, so clear and frosty, pinned him to the spot.
A lesser man, or one who had some sense in his head, might’ve flinched.
Good thing Valentin was big enough to take her, and stupid enough to keep banging his head against a wall of Silver Silence. “No choice in a clan,” he said with a shrug. “Bears are handsy.” They hugged like it was going out of business and threw each other around for fun. “Adults will respect your personal space, but I can’t promise the same for the littlest cubs. Your suits won’t survive.”
“Noted.” Silver tugged her shirt cuffs into perfect alignment. “You need to find me some shoes.”
Yes, definitely a queen. “Any particular kind?”
“Low heels that won’t clash with this suit.”
“I have a better idea.” He’d already sweet-talked a wheelchair from a changeling-pony nurse; now he pointed at it. “Sit. We’ll hide your legs under the blanket from your bed, and you can wear this hoodie to hide your hair and face.”
Picking up the hoodie from the chair where he’d placed it after buying it from the hospital gift shop while Ena was with Silver, he prepared to argue with her over his plan. She never accepted anything at face value. She always had to question it down to the bone.
It was as if she’d been born an obstinate bear and was only faking being Psy.
But today she just said, “A good solution,” and sat in the wheelchair.
“We need to get some food into you.” He held out a bottle of nutrient drink he’d found in the vending machine at the gift shop; maybe it was the Psy idea of a get-well-soon present.
Not taking it, Silver said, “My stomach and throat are raw.”
Valentin didn’t give up; he knew how to get under her skin. “Want to be weak instead?”
A dangerously calm look before she held out her hand.
Unscrewing the lid, he gave her the bottle, waited until she was done. After throwing the empty bottle in the nearest recycler, he handed her the hoodie, then ducked inside her room while keeping an eye on her, and tore the blanket off her bed. The sight of her moving slowly as she worked her way into the dark blue of the hoodie, it did all kinds of things to him.
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