olive-green, it had epaulets on the shoulders.
Taking it out to the kitchen, she left it hanging on the back of a chair while she prepared her breakfast. Her sparkly sneakers sat just inside the doorway, where she’d kicked them off the previous night. Smiling again as a dark heat uncurled low in her body, she went out onto the porch to eat . . . and her eyes went automatically to the cabin across from hers.
Every single morning since the attack, she looked across. And every single morning, she saw a closed door. No Jaya with her huge smile and generous heart. No black-clad Arrow with “killer” blue eyes leaving to begin his shift. Just a horrible, painful emptiness.
Abbot will make a full recovery.
Memory hugged the echo of Sascha’s words to her heart, a hopeful shield against the cruel emptiness of the cabin . . . and when she thought of Yuri, she focused deliberately on the things they’d discussed during their walks. She would remember her friend alive and strong and intelligent, and she’d trust in his strength and survival instinct.
When Sascha arrived not long afterward, she didn’t make Memory ask for an update. “I just heard from Ivy,” she said as she pulled off her coat. “Abbot’s made telepathic contact with Jaya and the medics think he’ll be awake within thirty minutes.” Her smile was a thing of pure light. “No trace of permanent damage.”
Eyes burning, and throat too thick to speak, Memory nodded.
“Yuri’s still on life support,” the cardinal added, the light dying. “Aden’s getting consults from every neurospecialist he can. He won’t make the call without exhausting all possibilities.”
Memory clung to hope. And she paid attention during the session despite her turbulent emotions—she’d brought her knitting because the physical activity helped her maintain her psychic focus. She was working on a blanket for Jaya’s Phantom; she needed to do something for her friend, and she’d noticed that Phantom liked to steal the blankets off Jaya and Abbot’s bed. Maybe he’d stop that if she made him his own.
Sascha admired her progress so far before the two of them settled down to hard psychic work.
“You’re ready to graduate from Sascha’s Shield School,” the cardinal surprised her by saying after lunch. “You’ve worked hard and you’ve built on a strong foundation. Maintain what you’ve built and your mind will never again be hijacked.”
It took some time after Sascha left for her words to sink in.
Memory had succeeded. Renault could never again violate her.
Putting on her olive-green jacket on a wave of angry resolve, she stepped out onto the porch. And there he was—her golden wolf. Dressed in a black tee and well-worn jeans, he was talking to one of the other changelings. Blonde and curvy Rina. A highly trained leopard soldier with an innate feline sensuality.
Alexei looked up toward Memory at that moment and, smile wicked and for her alone, held out a hand. It was only then that she realized a hidden part of her had been afraid last night had been a mirage, would disappear in the light of day.
When he’d kissed her good-bye this morning, she’d glimpsed a potent darkness in his eyes that made her afraid for what they had between them. It remained lodged inside him, a pain that held an edge she couldn’t quite decipher, but he took her hand and hauled her in for a toe-curling kiss that had Rina clearing her throat and saying, “Jeez, get a room. Or a cave. Since you’re an uncivilized wolf and all.”
Giving Rina the finger with one hand, Alexei continued to kiss Memory—who couldn’t hold on to her anger and sadness in the face of his wild joy in seeing her. Her entire body smiled. When he finally let her up for air, Rina had her hands on her hips and was shaking her head.
“You know they all live in a big puppy pit, right?” She shuddered. “Poking their noses into each other’s business like it’s a full-time job.”
That sounded like perfection to Memory. To not be alone unless you chose it, to walk out night and day and find a friendly face. When she said as much, Rina groaned and Alexei looked smug.
“You want to tell Memory what your packmates spotted?” he asked.
“Drone flying overhead.” Smile fading to reveal the hard eyes of a soldier, Rina folded her arms across her voluptuous chest. “We didn’t even have to shoot the thing down—one of the falcons was in the area and we asked him