her basic biofeedback connection had been her only direct link to the psychic space. A lifeline only, with no access to the Net itself.
Despite that, she knew what those golden strands represented: the Honeycomb, the empathic network that was currently holding the PsyNet together. She’d read about it in the Beacon.
A glimmer of awareness.
Renault was turning. He was running.
“I’ll find a younger, fresher replacement!” he threw back as a final taunt. “You’re worthless now anyway!”
No surprise that his presence disappeared in the blink of an eye. His mind wasn’t anchored in this region—he’d retracted the roaming part he’d sent out to hunt her down.
Memory stopped screaming, the cold that invaded her veins this time a frigid terror.
Renault would’ve never run from her. He didn’t see her as a threat or an opponent. He saw her as a thing, a possession.
Darkness. Pure darkness.
Memory focused on the horizon, on the wave of deadly black coming closer. Her eyes snapped open. “Darkness comes.” She could never defeat those minds.
“Arrows,” Alexei said, rubbing gently at her nape.
Her heartbeat stuttered. Renault had told her about Arrows. Master assassins, they hunted people for the leaders of the Psy, and Renault was connected to those leaders. Arrows also hunted others—murderers and monsters and nightmares.
Jerking away from Alexei, she fell onto the floor. She scrambled back from him as nausea and betrayal twisted her gut.
He watched her with unblinking amber eyes. “Arrows are affiliated with empaths,” he said, his primal power pulsing in the air. “They’ll protect you.”
Memory’s breath turned into shards of ice in her lungs.
She wasn’t an empath. The Arrows executed those like her.
Chapter 9
Intruder has fled, but we have his psychic signature. Proceeding to the E.
—Arrow field team to Arrow command
RENAULT OPENED HIS eyes with a racing heart, his brain working a hundred different angles. He wasn’t afraid. Renault was Silent, had never felt except for the exultation that swept over him in the aftermath of the murderous ritual that he craved. He did, however, have a well-developed sense of self-preservation.
How had the Arrows discovered Memory so quickly?
He’d set it up so she’d be returned to him long before anyone affiliated with the squad or the Empathic Collective stumbled upon her. Her mind wasn’t the same as an E’s, but it bore a direct resemblance to it, and he’d factored both the squad and the Collective into his retrieval strategy.
Not that it mattered. Now that they’d found her—a woman who knew too many of his secrets—Renault could no longer be certain that his well-laid plan would bear fruit. The squad might be attempting to trace him even now, but Renault’d had years to prepare for this worst-case scenario.
The Arrows would find no trail, his presence a ghost in the PsyNet.
He hadn’t returned to his official residence after confirming Memory was gone, had come instead to a backup property purchased under another name. The next stage in disappearing meant switching to the comprehensive new identity he had waiting in the wings. It would mean a loss of power and status, but only in the short term. He’d build himself back up again.
As for Memory, he’d have to recover her using more personal methods. He also needed to do what he’d said—locate and begin to train a replacement. It’d be a difficult task given her unique skills, but not only was her defiance becoming problematic, she was taking longer and longer to recover from sessions.
He needed to have a spare on standby before she became too worn out to use.
But he wasn’t surrendering her. Memory was the most prized piece of Renault’s property. He would claim her back, and this time, when he put her in a hole, he’d make sure she never again saw the light.
Chapter 10
An unexpected new cooperation agreement, the Trinity Accord, has been negotiated and agreed upon between major elements of all three races.
—PsyNet Beacon (May 22, 2082)
THE GOLDEN WOLF hadn’t moved his gaze off her.
And, one hundred seconds after the Arrows spotted her, she was still alive.
“SnowDancer is allied with the Arrows via Trinity,” the wolf said, and she wondered if he realized his claws had sliced out of his skin at some point. “I asked for protection for you.”
Memory finally found her voice. “You called Arrows to help me?” It was like calling a school of carnivorous sharks to look out for a minnow.
A shrug, the muscles of his back and shoulders rippling. “Arrows are the wolves of the PsyNet.”
His phone buzzed.
While he spoke to whoever was on the other end,