Mine to Possess

“I know you will.” Her trust in him was rooted not only in childhood memory but in her growing knowledge of the man he’d become. Strong. Protective. Beautiful. And more than a little wild. “I trust you.” A confession that took more courage than she knew she had.

Flames in the depths of his eyes. “You going back to bed?”

“No.” She tensed, wondering where this was leading. She might not be changeling, but she knew how to read desire in a man’s eyes.

As if he’d heard her unspoken fear, he rose to his feet, held out his hand. “Come on, then. I’ll show you some of my forest. I need to get out of here.”

Her heart smiled, that defiant hope spreading across her soul in an unstoppable inferno. “I’d like that.”

CHAPTER 15

Ashaya looked at the holographic map projected above her desk. It showed the location of her lab in relation to nearby towns and farms. “You’re sure the lab won’t be discovered?” she asked the man on the other side of the transparent wall of light particles.

Councilor Ming LeBon nodded. “You’re surrounded by acres of cornfields, with only a single, apparently unused, access road. From above, the lab looks like a crumbling farmhouse.”

“Forgive me if my confidence doesn’t mirror yours.” She terminated the projection. “You assured me the previous lab was secure. The saboteurs had no trouble getting in, detonating their bombs, and destroying the original prototype. Not to mention the targeted psychic strike that killed several of my top scientists.”

“That was an unfortunate mistake on my part,” Ming admitted with the emotionless confidence of a man so deadly, most people spoke his name in a whisper. Psy might not feel emotions, Ashaya thought, but even those of her clinical race valued their lives.

“That mistake,” Ming continued, “will not be repeated.” His eyes were those of a cardinal but unique in that Ming’s had less white stars than most. Liquid black filled his eyes, broken only by one or two pinpricks of light.

The uniqueness of his eyes wasn’t a well-known fact-most people had no idea of Ming LeBon’s physical appearance. He was a true shadow in the PsyNet. Ashaya was well aware that the sole reason he’d allowed her to see him was because he knew the Council had her totally under their control.

It might have made a human or changeling angry to be so manipulated. Ashaya wasn’t human or changeling. She didn’t feel fear, anger, any negative emotion. But that didn’t mean she agreed with the Councilor. “Explain the security features to me,” she said.

“Your job is on the inside. My officers will take care of security.”

“With respect, I disagree.” If she backed down now, it was all over. “I need to know the options in case of emergency-you have no way to accurately factor in the variables I’d be working with to stabilize safe transport of the prototypes. A fire would require a different response than an earthquake.”

Ming watched her, unblinking. His presence filled the room, though he wasn’t a large man. The word that came to mind was compact. Compact and sleek, like the assassin he’d been before he became Council. “You’re suddenly very interested in security.”

“Self-preservation.” She didn’t look away. “The attack on the previous lab taught me that I am the sole person who can be trusted with my own safety.”

“Are you sure you’re not considering an escape?”

Ashaya hadn’t made it this far in the cold machinery of the Psy world by being easily shaken. “You don’t believe that to be a true threat-you’ve assured my compliance.”

“True. And unless you’ve broken Silence, you aren’t a woman prone to making foolish, emotional mistakes.”

She knew the emphasis had been very deliberate. “I assure you, my conditioning is intact.” Even more so than the day she had officially graduated from the Protocol. She felt nothing. There was ice where the emotional heart might have been in a human or changeling woman. “I’ve made my decisions and I intend to stick by them.”

He nodded once, the light catching on the pure white of his hair. She had heard that he’d been born with that hair, that skin. The lack of pigmentation in his body probably accounted for his eyes, but Ming was not an albino in the true sense of the word. No, he straddled an odd line between colorless and too much color. His hair and skin were white but the left side of his face bore a spreading birthmark the color of fresh blood.

“My physical imperfection intrigues you,” he said in that oddly accented voice that made it impossible to pin down his origins.