hands curled into fists inside the pockets, but he kept his face expressionless; from the way others on the street glanced at him before carrying on their way, he must’ve appeared normal enough.
No one blanched. No one tried to run.
Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he paid careful attention to the architecture and the geography. Unless he’d lost days instead of hours, he must be in his own city.
A woman laughed up ahead and opened out a lace parasol.
Next to her were several other women in pretty dresses. Nothing about them gave him a location. He could’ve looked in the PsyNet to orient himself, but with his mind as chaotic as it was, he didn’t want to risk suffering a fugue while only partially in his body.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a smile he’d learned to produce on cue because it put humans and nonpredatory changelings at ease.
The women looked at one another and giggled.
He deepened the smile; he knew from a lifetime of experience that he had a pleasing aesthetic appearance, one that appealed to women. He’d never had much reason to use that tool in his arsenal, but today, it might gain him some desperately needed answers. “I was wondering if you could help me,” he said. “I’m a visitor just arrived in your beautiful city. I don’t suppose you have recommendations about what I could do this evening?”
The women giggled again, before one said, “You’re not far from Chinatown, and the Chinese New Year festival is uh-mazing.”
“Oh, and Fisherman’s Wharf is jumping,” her friend added. “They’ve got circus performers there tonight. While we were there, one of the DarkRiver cats shifted and dove through a ring of fire on a dare!”
The rest of their words faded into the background.
Fisherman’s Wharf. Chinatown. DarkRiver. He was in San Francisco. Where he kept an apartment because he flew in and out for business. Right now, that included a major deal with the SnowDancer wolves.
Many of those wolves had to be on the streets attending the festival, but no one called him out. It wasn’t until five minutes later, when he passed by a glossy shop window that he realized why: his hair was the wrong color and he was wearing the paper-thin latex mask that he’d used for the medical appointment. It altered his features beyond recognition.
Red trickled out of his nose as he watched.
His head began to pound.
Chapter 44
Project Scarab: Closed. All outstanding matters cleared.
—Psy Council (2004)
ALEXEI THUMPED A nutrient drink down on the conference table in front of Memory. He’d brought her to DarkRiver HQ for a debrief, but like hell he’d let anyone else near her until she’d gotten some food in her. “I can see your cheekbones cutting against your skin.” Whatever she did when she tracked the unknown mind, she used up the same massive amount of psychic energy as when she worked with Amara.
“Drink.” It came out a growled order, his wolf’s chest heaving with its worry for her. “Judd says the stuff’s still the best way to get a calorie hit after a psychic burn.”
Memory folded her arms across her chest and refused to reach for the glass. “I swore I’d never take nutrients again.”
“It’s not the same as the old stuff. It’s flavored—pomegranate and peach.”
“I’ve told you not to growl at me.”
Baring his teeth, he bent down until their faces were only an inch apart. “You have drops of blood on your shirt.” His entire body trembled with his fury at her hurt. “Drink.”
Memory unfolded her arms, her gaze softening. She leaned into him and, taking the glass, drank half before placing her palm against his cheek. “Sorry about the blood.” Tender words that sought to mollify his wolf. “It was like a pressure system building inside me. He has so much power and he can’t control it.”
Wanting to bite off the bastard’s head, Alexei pointed toward the plate of cookies and chocolates he’d found in the nearby staff kitchen. The HQ was full of changelings on a daily basis and a number of those changelings were mated to Psy—he’d known there’d be all kinds of fuel within reach. Memory had drunk more of the nutrient mix by then, but she devoured several cookies in a row.
His wolf finally began to calm down.
Only after she’d eaten four cookies and was working on a fifth did he open the door and nod at the others to come in. Lucas entered with Sascha, Krychek behind them.
Naya, her fears assuaged by cuddles from Luc