Silver Silence
Page 32
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“Pasha!” With that roar, he took off through the crowd, hell-bent on vengeance.
“If that will be a party,” she said, “what is this?”
“Fun, but it’ll shut down soon—that whiskey’s never going to be opened. People have shifts to prepare for, work to rest up for.” He looked down at the child who’d fallen trustingly asleep in his arms. “I’ll get this escapee to bed.” A glance out of eyes gone amber. “Stay until I get back?”
Silver found herself nodding, though she should’ve retreated to her room an hour ago, her body yet healing. She watched as Valentin walked toward the residential area, his big body too heavy with muscle to be graceful . . . yet, he was in a way that was all power and strength.
• • •
VALENTIN had just returned from putting the cub into his crib—after ridding him of the biker jacket—and was trying to think of a cat-sneaky way to talk Silver into a dance when her eyes suddenly connected with his, urgency in their depths. His phone buzzed three seconds later, a second after he’d navigated his way to her.
The name on the screen was Zarina Saarinen. Head of StoneWater’s educational system and mother to Zahaan, Zarina was in the city for a party to celebrate the birthday of her former college roommate, a human female who was now an astronomer.
He answered it as Silver motioned for him to follow her back into the quieter residence section. “Zarina, what’s happened?”
“A bomb, I think,” she shouted down the line, screams and shouts loud in the background. “I heard the explosion from two streets away, ran over into dust and chaos. Looks like the Dancing Frog bar was the focal point.”
A bar?
“Who’s on scene?”
“Krychek’s here, along with people from neighboring businesses. No emergency crews yet.”
“Do what you can.” Hanging up, Valentin looked at Silver. “You know?” The telepathic highway was a lightning-fast one.
“Only human victims discovered so far,” Silver said, her eyes on her phone, which scrolled with data. “I’m in touch with local authorities to see if they need EmNet assistance.”
Anger raced through Valentin’s blood. “The fanatics who’ve been predicting the destruction of the Psy race if Trinity goes ahead?” The threats had been sent to various comm stations, warning of a loss of Psy “superiority” if others were to “interbreed” with them. “Didn’t the pieces of shit threaten to attack humans and changelings seen associating with Psy?”
“Word’s filtering through that it was a suicide bomber.” Silver touched her temple for a second before starting to work her phone again. “No signs of him being Psy at this point. Taking into account the location and the known casualties, as well as the lack of any violent psychic ripples in the Net, there’s a high chance it was a non-Psy.”
Valentin wanted to say no changeling could do this, but their race wasn’t perfect; it was capable of spawning those with hate and violence in their heart. Valentin knew that firsthand. Even if he hadn’t, it was changelings who’d stained the earth bloodred during the Territorial Wars three and a half centuries ago. No alpha, no changeling, could ever afford to forget that, especially in a time when it would be so easy to blame the Psy for the world’s ills.
“I’m heading to the city,” he told Silver, raw pain intermingling with the anger. “A StoneWater team will follow.” He’d give the order as he was leaving—as he’d said to his Starlight, people had been having a good time, but despite appearances, nobody was drunk. “The cowards behind this will see a coordinated response, see a united city that can’t be so easily broken.”
“I’ll go with you.” Silver held up a hand, even as his bear lunged to its feet in rejection of the idea of her going out into the cold night. “Yes, I’m weak, but if I don’t show up at an incident in my own city that’s claimed mostly—perhaps only—human victims, I may as well resign as director of EmNet.” With that, she disappeared into her room and when she returned, she’d shed his sweatshirt and changed into a fresh white shirt.
She’d also swapped out her sneakers for ankle boots.
That quickly, she was cool, elegant Silver Mercant again, even in jeans and with not a single gray hue in sight. “People of all races need to believe in me for EmNet to work.”
Biting back his protective urge to throw her on her bed, order her to rest, and shut the door—all that would get him was a sore head when Silver turned her telepathic muscles against him—Valentin instead ran to Nova’s quarters and borrowed one of his sister’s coats. It was darkest gray.
Tracking Silver’s scent to the exit from Denhome after he’d spoken to Stasya about sending in a rescue team behind them, he felt his raging protectiveness calm. “No emergency teleport?” He hated the idea of her being out of his sight when she hadn’t yet recovered from the attempted poisoning. Especially if she’d left without a coat when the temperature had plunged.
“I don’t want to split Kaleb’s energy.” Accepting the coat with a nod of thanks, she added, “I’m used to coordinating resources remotely, so a delayed arrival on-site won’t matter.” She did exactly that during the drive, using both her phone and her telepathic senses as necessary.
She updated him in the short periods when she was free. “First responders have pulled out three survivors so far, but my sources say the bar was packed for a private celebration. A wedding reception.”
Valentin’s claws shoved against his skin, the ugly pointlessness of it all infuriating him. “There were probably changelings in there, too.”
“No bears identified,” Silver said, her tone careful.
Valentin’s hands squeezed the steering wheel. “As far as I know, no one was in the city to attend a wedding reception, but I’ll alert Pieter to check that all our people are accounted for.” The thought of losing even one more person from his clan . . .
The two of them were still ten minutes out from the city when Silver’s phone beeped. The person on the other end must’ve spoken as soon as Silver answered, because she listened in silence.
Valentin couldn’t hear anything, Silver utilizing the earpiece that had been part of the tech package he’d given her. A button microphone was attached to the collar of her shirt.
“Yes,” she said a short time later. “Moscow does need to show a united face to our enemies, but that can be done by a single high-ranking member of your pack at the scene.” A pause. “It would be better if it wasn’t you. Alpha Nikolaev will be there very shortly. Kaleb is present already. I don’t want all three alphas in the region in one place.”
Selenka.
He didn’t need to ask Silver to confirm: there were only three true alphas in this region—Valentin, Selenka, and Krychek. And Silver was right. The three of them shouldn’t be in the hot zone at the same time. It might prove too tempting a target for anyone who wanted to destabilize the area.
“You should pull in the nonpredatories,” he said after she ended her conversation with the BlackEdge alpha.
“Already in progress,” Silver replied. “A disproportionately high number of the local mountain-pony herd are in the medical field. The others, I’ve asked my EmNet assistant to contact.”
“If that will be a party,” she said, “what is this?”
“Fun, but it’ll shut down soon—that whiskey’s never going to be opened. People have shifts to prepare for, work to rest up for.” He looked down at the child who’d fallen trustingly asleep in his arms. “I’ll get this escapee to bed.” A glance out of eyes gone amber. “Stay until I get back?”
Silver found herself nodding, though she should’ve retreated to her room an hour ago, her body yet healing. She watched as Valentin walked toward the residential area, his big body too heavy with muscle to be graceful . . . yet, he was in a way that was all power and strength.
• • •
VALENTIN had just returned from putting the cub into his crib—after ridding him of the biker jacket—and was trying to think of a cat-sneaky way to talk Silver into a dance when her eyes suddenly connected with his, urgency in their depths. His phone buzzed three seconds later, a second after he’d navigated his way to her.
The name on the screen was Zarina Saarinen. Head of StoneWater’s educational system and mother to Zahaan, Zarina was in the city for a party to celebrate the birthday of her former college roommate, a human female who was now an astronomer.
He answered it as Silver motioned for him to follow her back into the quieter residence section. “Zarina, what’s happened?”
“A bomb, I think,” she shouted down the line, screams and shouts loud in the background. “I heard the explosion from two streets away, ran over into dust and chaos. Looks like the Dancing Frog bar was the focal point.”
A bar?
“Who’s on scene?”
“Krychek’s here, along with people from neighboring businesses. No emergency crews yet.”
“Do what you can.” Hanging up, Valentin looked at Silver. “You know?” The telepathic highway was a lightning-fast one.
“Only human victims discovered so far,” Silver said, her eyes on her phone, which scrolled with data. “I’m in touch with local authorities to see if they need EmNet assistance.”
Anger raced through Valentin’s blood. “The fanatics who’ve been predicting the destruction of the Psy race if Trinity goes ahead?” The threats had been sent to various comm stations, warning of a loss of Psy “superiority” if others were to “interbreed” with them. “Didn’t the pieces of shit threaten to attack humans and changelings seen associating with Psy?”
“Word’s filtering through that it was a suicide bomber.” Silver touched her temple for a second before starting to work her phone again. “No signs of him being Psy at this point. Taking into account the location and the known casualties, as well as the lack of any violent psychic ripples in the Net, there’s a high chance it was a non-Psy.”
Valentin wanted to say no changeling could do this, but their race wasn’t perfect; it was capable of spawning those with hate and violence in their heart. Valentin knew that firsthand. Even if he hadn’t, it was changelings who’d stained the earth bloodred during the Territorial Wars three and a half centuries ago. No alpha, no changeling, could ever afford to forget that, especially in a time when it would be so easy to blame the Psy for the world’s ills.
“I’m heading to the city,” he told Silver, raw pain intermingling with the anger. “A StoneWater team will follow.” He’d give the order as he was leaving—as he’d said to his Starlight, people had been having a good time, but despite appearances, nobody was drunk. “The cowards behind this will see a coordinated response, see a united city that can’t be so easily broken.”
“I’ll go with you.” Silver held up a hand, even as his bear lunged to its feet in rejection of the idea of her going out into the cold night. “Yes, I’m weak, but if I don’t show up at an incident in my own city that’s claimed mostly—perhaps only—human victims, I may as well resign as director of EmNet.” With that, she disappeared into her room and when she returned, she’d shed his sweatshirt and changed into a fresh white shirt.
She’d also swapped out her sneakers for ankle boots.
That quickly, she was cool, elegant Silver Mercant again, even in jeans and with not a single gray hue in sight. “People of all races need to believe in me for EmNet to work.”
Biting back his protective urge to throw her on her bed, order her to rest, and shut the door—all that would get him was a sore head when Silver turned her telepathic muscles against him—Valentin instead ran to Nova’s quarters and borrowed one of his sister’s coats. It was darkest gray.
Tracking Silver’s scent to the exit from Denhome after he’d spoken to Stasya about sending in a rescue team behind them, he felt his raging protectiveness calm. “No emergency teleport?” He hated the idea of her being out of his sight when she hadn’t yet recovered from the attempted poisoning. Especially if she’d left without a coat when the temperature had plunged.
“I don’t want to split Kaleb’s energy.” Accepting the coat with a nod of thanks, she added, “I’m used to coordinating resources remotely, so a delayed arrival on-site won’t matter.” She did exactly that during the drive, using both her phone and her telepathic senses as necessary.
She updated him in the short periods when she was free. “First responders have pulled out three survivors so far, but my sources say the bar was packed for a private celebration. A wedding reception.”
Valentin’s claws shoved against his skin, the ugly pointlessness of it all infuriating him. “There were probably changelings in there, too.”
“No bears identified,” Silver said, her tone careful.
Valentin’s hands squeezed the steering wheel. “As far as I know, no one was in the city to attend a wedding reception, but I’ll alert Pieter to check that all our people are accounted for.” The thought of losing even one more person from his clan . . .
The two of them were still ten minutes out from the city when Silver’s phone beeped. The person on the other end must’ve spoken as soon as Silver answered, because she listened in silence.
Valentin couldn’t hear anything, Silver utilizing the earpiece that had been part of the tech package he’d given her. A button microphone was attached to the collar of her shirt.
“Yes,” she said a short time later. “Moscow does need to show a united face to our enemies, but that can be done by a single high-ranking member of your pack at the scene.” A pause. “It would be better if it wasn’t you. Alpha Nikolaev will be there very shortly. Kaleb is present already. I don’t want all three alphas in the region in one place.”
Selenka.
He didn’t need to ask Silver to confirm: there were only three true alphas in this region—Valentin, Selenka, and Krychek. And Silver was right. The three of them shouldn’t be in the hot zone at the same time. It might prove too tempting a target for anyone who wanted to destabilize the area.
“You should pull in the nonpredatories,” he said after she ended her conversation with the BlackEdge alpha.
“Already in progress,” Silver replied. “A disproportionately high number of the local mountain-pony herd are in the medical field. The others, I’ve asked my EmNet assistant to contact.”
