Slave to Sensation

Henry checked his calendar and began the return journey to the archives.

The part of him that was Sascha rose sluggishly to the surface, prodded awake by the recall of her earlier near-trapping in the vault. It took her precious seconds to realize her own consciousness. She’d come perilously close to losing herself in Henry. Detaching from him before he reached the vault was imperative but she had to separate as softly as she’d merged.

So she waited. They were almost to the vault when they passed a guard with a sloppy alarm system. She flowed from Henry to the guard’s shadow. When the man completed his circular route and reached the outer level of the restricted zone, she flowed onto another guard. Step-shadowing her way back to her own mind took over three hours in real time because she was tired, exhausted by the extended immersion in another’s consciousness.

At long last, she slipped back around her firewall and released the gathered information into her mind. It was like letting go of a data bomb loaded with shrapnel. Her eyes opened with a snap and she collapsed backward on the bed, her heart racing at a thousand beats per second. There was too much new information in her mind. She let it process while she lay there staring at the ceiling and thinking she was starving.

A look at her watch confirmed it was well past dinnertime. Groaning, she went to the console and checked for messages. There was one from Lucas. He looked very much like the predator he was, the lines on his face vivid against the golden heat of his skin. “Ms. Duncan. If you could spare some time this evening I’d like to discuss a matter to do with the design change. I’ll be at our earlier meeting place.” The message ended.

No one eavesdropping would’ve given it a second thought. Businesspeople left vague messages like that all the time. Only she saw the worry in those cat-green eyes, only she knew he’d called after she hadn’t gotten back in touch within a reasonable amount of time, only she ached to go to him.

A glance in the mirror showed her appearance to be completely acceptable. No one looking at her would’ve guessed at the turmoil inside. Decision made, she went to the console to return the call but changed her mind. No use alerting anyone who was watching her as to her whereabouts. Her heart twisted at the thought of Lucas worrying but she knew he’d have told her to do exactly what she was doing.

She changed out of the relaxed clothing she’d been wearing and into a severe black pantsuit and white shirt. It was the uniform of the Psy and she couldn’t afford to stand out. So armed, she walked out. And almost ran face-first into Enrique. If she hadn’t spent a lifetime keeping secrets, the shock might’ve made her shell crack.

“Councilor. How can I help you?” She closed the door behind her. It was a subtle hint.

His dark eyes ran over her clothing. “A late meeting?”

“Yes.” Meetings after nine weren’t anything unusual.

“I’d like to talk to you. Now would be a good time.” It was an order couched as a request.

“Mother wouldn’t take it kindly if I missed this engagement.” No matter how close Nikita and Enrique were over Council matters, Sascha’s mother had no allies for whom she’d sacrifice money and power.

The white stars in his eyes flickered in a way she found disturbing. “Don’t be too quick to turn down an offer of advancement.”

She’d thought he’d given up holding out that lure to her. How stupid did he think she was? “What are you offering?” she asked instead of laughing in his face.

“That’s what I want to discuss. We can do it in private in your quarters.”

The hairs on her arms rose. It wasn’t unknown for older Psy to poach talent from other families, but there was something fundamentally wrong about Enrique’s offer. He was too eager to get her alone. And she was terrified she knew the reason why. “As I said, Councilor, I must decline.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to be leaving if I’m to be on time.”

He inclined his head and moved out of her way. “You’d do well to make time for me, Sascha. Most young cardinals would die to be in your position.”

Death was exactly what she was afraid he was offering. “Sir.” She kept her tone formal but the single word was a good-bye. She could feel his eyes on her back the entire length of the corridor. He knew something; he could obviously smell the flaw in her and was determined to expose it.

What she couldn’t understand was why he was giving her so much attention at a time when the Council was concentrating on finding out the serial’s identity. Was it possible he suspected her of being in league with the changelings?

As she entered the elevator and turned to face the closing doors, she saw him staring back at her across the distance. Belatedly, she remembered that Enrique was considered the best territorial strategician in the PsyNet.

He was a master at setting traps.