Mine to Possess

“But you’re not strong enough to control San Francisco, even if you had a whole colony.” A simple fact dictated by the physical attributes of their different beasts and the natural food chain. “We’re locking this city down, Teijan. You have another four weeks to make your decision. Ally with us or leave.”

Before the devastating attack orchestrated by the Psy Council on another one of DarkRiver’s allies-a deer herd-the Rats had been too weak to bother with. Now they were a possible strength and a current weakness-the tunnels needed to be watched in case this cold war with the Psy escalated into a very real one. But unless the Rats swore allegiance, their word couldn’t be trusted.

“We ruled here before DarkRiver,” Teijan snapped.

“No, you cowered Below while Psy walked Above,” Clay returned, pitiless. “You’re no match for us.” A human might have read his words as a humiliation but changelings understood dominance.

“If,” Teijan now ventured, “we were to swear allegiance, we’d have to come to your aid if called? And to the wolves’?”

“Yes. We’d come to yours in turn.”

A pause. “A cat will protect a mouse?”

Clay grinned. “Unless the mouse tries to bite the cat.” Betrayal would not be tolerated.

The other changeling’s eyes gleamed. “Then perhaps, I should talk to Lucas.”

“I’ll tell him.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a copy of Jonquil’s picture. “Right now, I need a favor. Show this photo around to your folks-ask if anyone saw anything.”

Teijan took it in an inhuman burst of movement. “A favor? Not an order?”

“A favor.” Clay pushed off the wall. “One predator to another.”

A sharp smile, full of teeth. That was the problem with the Rats-they lived too much Down Below, forgetting their humanity. It was why there were only three of their kind left in the city. The others had been hunted down after going rogue.

Last year, Clay recalled, Dahlia had succeeded in killing seven residents of Down Below before Teijan had tracked down and slit his former lover’s throat. It was a chilling reminder of the road Clay had almost taken. Almost. Now he had Tally’s kiss and no way in hell was he giving that up. He smiled, wondering what she’d made of their parting this morning. He could still taste her on his lips-a hint of coffee, spice, and pure female heat.

“I’ll ask,” Teijan finally said. “You swear that if we ally ourselves with you, our home is safe?”

“Hell, Teijan, these tunnels are shot with cracks-but we won’t do anything to push you out.” The alliance would establish hierarchy once and for all, allowing coexistence. Without that agreement, once the grace period ran out, the Rats were dead. No arguments. No second chances. A harsh law, but it kept peace in the volatile world of predatory changelings.

The only reason the Rats weren’t already dead was that Lucas had better control over the blood hunger of his beast than most alphas and he thought decades in advance-ten years ago, when DarkRiver had first begun flexing its muscle, he’d seen potential in the odd dwellers of Down Below.

“The tunnels are sound.” Teijan’s pride was in his voice. “We keep them repaired.”

“Then you’ll be fine. We don’t want to move in.”

A pause, then, “Something’s happening. We’re everywhere under the city-basements, garages, tunnels, house foundations-and there are times when we hear whispers we shouldn’t be hearing.”

Like Clay had thought-Lucas was fucking smart. “Any details?”

“An assassination. Psy target,” he added when Clay went leopard-still. “Definitely one of them. Someone high up. I can’t tell you who’s planning the hit but things are shakier with that cold-blooded lot than it looks like from the outside.”

“Anything we need to worry about?” The information Teijan had already provided was critical. If the Psy were getting closer to implosion, DarkRiver and SnowDancer both needed to know, to prepare, because like it or not, the psychic race occupied a vital spot in the world’s ecosystem. “You get names?”

“They mentioned an Anthony Kyriakus,” he threw out. “Never heard of him. Must be one of them.”

Clay snapped to attention. “You’re sure?” Anthony was Faith’s father and the possible leader of a quiet revolution against the Psy Council. Aside from Faith and Vaughn, only the sentinels and DarkRiver’s alpha pair knew that deadly secret.

“Yes. But I don’t know if he was the target.” His eyes flicked to the photo in his hand. “There’s something about this boy-he’s different. I’ll see what I can find out.” He was gone in a dark flash.

Retracing his steps, Clay pulled himself out of the manhole before using his cell phone to make a call to Vaughn. “Tell Faith to warn her father.”

“I have a feeling even if he is the target, it’s Anthony who’ll come out alive,” Vaughn drawled. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

“If you see him, try and get a feel for the general weather in the PsyNet.”