until Sascha put her on her feet, then hunkered down and pressed her forehead to Naya’s. “I need you to be a good girl for Mialin’s grandma, baby. There’s a bad person outside. I have to help your papa handle it so this person doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Tiny features awash in worry, Naya said something too fast for Memory to understand. But Sascha kissed her cub and said, “Yes, I promise I’ll make sure Roman and Julian and Nate and Tamsyn are safe. Go with Mrs. Wembley now.”
“We’ll go do some coloring in the basement room—it’s very nice, with a sofa and a soft rug,” Mrs. Wembley said as she led Naya away, one little hand tucked trustingly in hers. “You can help me with my latest page. It’s got so many colors, I get very tired.”
Naya’s response showed that she was the daughter of an empath and an alpha. “Mia come base’nt too?”
“Oh, you sweet baby, Mialin’s quite all right. She’s at home in DarkRiver territory with her mama and papa.”
The rest of their conversation faded as Mrs. Wembley and Naya disappeared behind a door that must’ve led to the basement. She heard the loud slide of a dead bolt, then three other clicks.
“Basement’s secured,” Sascha told her, her voice grim as she moved to the doorway of the shop.
Memory was already there, attempting to pinpoint the murderous mind’s next move.
“I spotted a high-Gradient E out there,” Sascha added. “I’ve telepathed her to begin crowd control while I attempt to aim a terminal field at the ones being used as puppets—I can’t spread the field far yet, so I have to target it.”
Crowd control. Terminal field.
Memory had no idea what those terms meant, but that didn’t matter at this instant. “What do you need from me?”
“See if you can work out if the person behind this is physically in Chinatown, or if he’s attacking via the PsyNet.”
Memory saw that Lucas and Alexei had the quartet corralled—all four of whom blinked as one right then and began to look around in confusion. “He’s moved on from that group.” Her mouth went dry, her heart thundering. “There are too many Psy here. Too many minds for him to grab, none of them as well shielded as the Arrows’.”
“You let us worry about that.” Sascha’s eyes were pure obsidian when they met Memory’s. “You focus on locating the threat—you’re the only one who can sense it.” The cardinal returned her attention to the street, and, a second later, Memory saw people stop in their tracks, their hands going to cradle the sides of their heads.
Squeezing her own eyes shut, she focused on the serrated presence of the huge, cracked mind. It hovered like a black cloud over the street, its intent to eliminate the Es. Hate and fear emanated from it, the toxic emotions directed at the Es. But it couldn’t capture empathic minds directly, kept sliding off.
That’s why it used other living beings as weapons. But there was something very wrong with this mind, a strange blankness where a sense of identity should be. Worse than at the compound. Then, she’d sensed his maleness and confidence both. Now even those basic elements were faded and dull.
There.
Memory caught the intruder’s psychic “frequency,” much as she’d caught Renault’s after he took Vashti. It was loud. “He’s here.” Lashes snapping up, she ran out of the doorway before Sascha could stop her.
Memory didn’t hesitate as she weaved in and out through the confused but nonviolent crowd.
Crowd control. Terminal field.
Whatever it was Sascha and the other Es were doing, it was working.
The air pressure changed again without warning, a second massive power entering the zone. Panic stuttered her heart, but this mind was ruthlessly sane, its discipline so precise that nothing leaked, not even the faintest edge of emotion. Only that sense of incomprehensible power.
Oh.
She hadn’t sensed him with her abilities at all, she realized. It had been pure survival instinct that alerted her to his presence. Still running, she spotted him up ahead: a terrifyingly handsome man in a black-on-black suit, his features all clean lines and his eyes cardinal starlight. She’d seen his face on the comm while buried in the bunker, knew he could raze cities and cause earthquakes: Kaleb Krychek.
His presence frosted the world in ice.
And his eyes, they landed on her. Hard to miss a woman running full tilt when everyone around her was preternaturally calm. Even the huge parade dragon had laid down its head, its controllers yawning as they