want to throw up, but they got results.
“Everyone else who knew is dead. Probably killed by the wolves.” Renault’s tone said he didn’t care. “I eliminated my father when I began to indulge in my hobby. Couldn’t have him deciding to teleport into what he considered his best work, could I? Not when it was my special secret place.”
A crackle of sound that sent a chill down Memory’s spine.
“Your mother had such thick ebony hair,” he said in a honeyed tone. “It’s one of my favorite souvenirs.”
Memory bit back her scream and stayed silent. The monster would pay for her mother’s death and the deaths of all the others.
“You don’t want to see? I’ve kept it nice all these years for you.”
Keeping a tight grip on her rage, Memory forced herself to say, It means nothing to me. Do you want to make a deal or not?
“It is a nice surprise to see you’ve absorbed my business acumen.”
I have no problem with allowing you to use my abilities, Memory said. But I want an apartment and pretty clothes and the freedom to go out in the world in between.
“How much?” The words were clipped, cool, businesslike.
Memory had no idea what to ask for, so she went for ten times her stipend from the Collective.
Renault snorted. “You have a high opinion of yourself.” He offered a far lower number, and they got down to negotiating.
Memory went along with it while intensifying her search for a weapon. That’s too low, she said at one point. Designer clothes cost money.
“This is my final counteroffer.” Renault named a figure and a schedule of expected visits.
Memory took her time forming an answer. I’ll take that if you organize an apartment for me, she said, forcing a hint of fear in her voice, though she wanted to—as Alexei had suggested—kick him in the nuts. A small place. I don’t like wide-open spaces. That would please Renault. Even when Silent, he’d fed on the pain and fear of others.
She didn’t know how else to explain it—he was a psychopath, but to an empath like Memory, psychopaths did have the facility to feel pleasure, though their version of pleasure wasn’t anything a person with normal emotions would understand.
“Of course, of course,” he said, his voice modulated into the soothing tone he’d used with her when she’d been younger.
Memory had never fallen for it; in the forefront of her mind was the memory of the same voice saying ugly things to her mother as he hurt Diana Aven-Rose. At times, she’d pretended to listen, but only because she had to survive so she could get her revenge.
“We’ll make it a quiet place,” Renault said in that same rage-inducing voice. “You know you’ll be more comfortable that way.”
Memory’s eye fell on a wrench sitting on the shelf in front of her. Sweat broke out on her spine as she stared at it. Forcing herself forward, she tried to close her hand around the tool, but her hand trembled, froze. Before, vengeance had always been an idea, a future concept that made her bare her teeth in relish. The thought of doing actual violence, however, of causing bloodshed, made her gorge rise.
Damn it! This was the exact wrong time to discover she was very much an E.
But . . . Es fought back when monsters threatened their own. And Alexei was on his way to her. She wasn’t about to stand back helplessly while her mate took on a psychopath who would never fight fair. Setting her jaw, she closed her fingers around the wrench and held it firmly to her side.
Renault did not get to hurt her golden wolf.
Once again, she thrust destabilizing emotions at Renault while watching him from her hiding spot. He frowned and touched his temple, but remained otherwise unaffected. Memory’s own head ached.
“Enough talking.” A punch of telepathic power.
Memory bit down so hard on her lower lip that she tasted blood. Barely able to breathe past the pain caused by the attempted breach, she began to make her way back toward Renault. The mating bond surged inside her, a protective thing with claws and teeth. Pressing her hand against her heart, Memory tried to convey that she was all right.
The idea of Alexei frantic for her made her hand tighten on the wrench.
Stop, she telepathed to Renault. Stop. I’m coming. All the while, she told herself to think like the most dangerous, most calculating person she knew. The facts hadn’t changed—she couldn’t win physically against a