Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3) - Nalini Singh Page 0,109
her vision of heaven.
“Naya snuck out of daycare again,” Lucas said a few minutes into the conversation, his tone amused. “She likes to hide under Mercy’s desk. Mercy always kicks off her shoes when in the office—prime biting material.”
“Oh, Lucas, you shouldn’t encourage her.” Sascha’s voice held affectionate laughter.
“It’s Mercy you need to talk to—every time Naya launches a successful stealth attack on her toes, Mercy pets her and calls her a strong hunter.” Pride prowled below the humor. “At which point, Naya runs in here to tell me of her successful mission.”
“I want to snuggle her face so much right now,” Sascha murmured.
“Tell me what’s wrong, kitten.” A voice that sounded like a purr.
Memory did step out then, to give the couple privacy. She was hoping to see Alexei, but couldn’t spot him. Returning inside after Sascha ended her call not long afterward, she took the hot chocolates to the table and the two of them settled into their chairs.
“I’d like for Judd to take a look at your mind,” Sascha began. “I want him to see if he can spot any back doors I might’ve missed. He’s an expert in a way I’ll never be. But, Memory, the decision is yours.”
Memory’s stomach churned at the idea of a stranger inside her mind, but any surviving back door was a major threat. Renault had been too panicked to exploit any holes in her defenses on their most recent encounter—he might be calmer and luckier next time. “Yes,” she said to Sascha. “I want to make sure my mind is airtight.”
“I’ll call, see if Judd is nearby.”
Only five minutes later, Alexei walked through the door ahead of a dark-eyed and dark-haired man who moved with a fluid grace that shouted “telekinetic.” Memory’s stomach muscles clenched.
“Forgot to give you these earlier.” Alexei tugged on one of her curls as he dropped a bunch of granola bars in front of her. “I got a smack on the hand from the cook for snagging more than my fair share.” A scowl. “You better eat them or I won’t steal you more.”
Making a face at him, Memory said, “I see the good mood was a fleeting thing.”
He tugged on another curl, but shifted his gaze to the man with him. “This is Judd.”
“I won’t invade your thoughts,” the Tk said in a cool voice. “My only aim is to check for any holes created deep in your mind by your captor.”
Alexei clasped her nape in a caressing grip. “Judd’s one of my best friends and I’d trust him with my life—he won’t hurt you.”
The rough honesty of his words helped her defeat the fear crushing her heart. “What do you need me to do?” she asked Judd.
“Lower your shields.” His eyes were a deep brown with flecks of gold, far warmer than his voice. “I won’t enter unless you do.”
It took teeth-gritted focus on her part to force down her shields, even more focus not to shove them back up the instant a powerful mind entered hers. But he kept his word, going nowhere near her thoughts or secrets, his focus on the structure of her mind.
“I’m done,” he said in a matter of minutes, and she slammed up her shields.
“Is it bad?” Sascha frowned.
A shake of Judd’s head. “You two got most of them.” He switched his attention to Memory. “Your captor wasn’t subtle or skilled—the hidden doors are basic hacks I learned as a seven-year-old Arrow trainee.”
Memory wondered if she was imagining the insulting edge to his tone—he was so icy and distant . . . but he was also Alexei’s friend. Alexei, who had no ice in him.
“Don’t hold back,” she said with a wry smile.
No change in his expression, but his emotions held definite amusement. “Only reason Sascha couldn’t see these final doors was because she’s an E. Your designation isn’t endowed with the gene for deviousness.”
Memory and Sascha both glared at Alexei’s cool-eyed friend.
Clearly not the least bit terrified by their wrath, Judd carried on. “I’ve tagged the locations for you. Demolition instructions sent to Sascha.”
“Be any smugger and you’ll turn into a cat.”
Eyes gleaming at Alexei’s bad-tempered comment, Judd looked at Memory again. “You realize you have a minor telekinetic ability?”
“Yes, it’s worthless.” Much to her disgust. “It was tagged as 1 on the Gradient when I was tested as a child.” At the time, with Designation E unknown to the general populace, she’d been officially classed a 3.4 telepath. Multiple abilities weren’t uncommon, but generally only on