Another three images. All fellow Councilors.
“Nikita needs to go.” Shoshanna’s tone was flat, with no room for compromise. “Ming has access to significant military resources. If we can’t co-opt him, he must be eliminated.”
“Agreed,” Henry said. “But he is not a primary target.” He nodded at the third image. “What are your thoughts on Anthony?” He didn’t trust his wife an inch, but he respected her political acumen. Just as he respected the fact that one day soon he’d have to kill her—to ensure she didn’t kill him first.
“Uncertain,” she said now. “Anthony has supported Nikita in the Council on the issue of Silence, but he has also supported our interests at times and could therefore be turned. He has no connections outside the Net except for his subcontracting arrangement with his daughter, and that decision is one I may have made myself in the same situation.”
Since Faith NightStar was the strongest F-Psy in the world, able to predict futures other foreseers couldn’t even glimpse, her services worth millions if not billions, Anthony’s decision was one Henry understood as well. “He is, however, protective of his investment. We’ll have to think carefully before we eliminate Faith.”
“Yes, we can consider her toward the end.” A pause. “F-Psy are, after all, often fractured and kept under psychic guard. She could be reassimilated into the Net.”
“A possibility.” Henry made a note to investigate whether Shoshanna had a “pet” F-Psy of her own. Her telepathic reach was more than powerful enough to direct the unstable mind of a broken foreseer. “These two,” he said, picking up the remote to highlight the images, “are the primary targets. Kill them and we bring the city to its knees.”
And he already had the operation in place to ensure it.
Andrew knew he’d messed up—badly.
Standing under the cold spray of his morning shower, he pressed his forehead to the tile, his hand fisted against the cool white surface. He didn’t blame Indy for thinking he was only interested in sex, in the physical. Yes, he was sexually hungry. Very, very hungry. But not just for sex. For sex with Indigo—he’d wanted her for what seemed like forever, but these past few months, his needs had turned highly specific in every way.
The sole thing that had kept him from imploding was the fact that he knew she hadn’t been with anyone those months, either.
And now he’d gone and mucked his chances up but good. Not only that, he’d reinforced her opinion of him as a young male led by nothing but his cock, not worth taking seriously in the personal arena. “Damn it.” Wanting to strike out at something—preferably his own stupidity—he wrenched off the shower and stepped out to rub himself dry. He was thrusting a hand through his damp hair when his phone beeped. It was his alpha.
“My office, five minutes.”
Adrenaline pumped through his veins at the summons. Better, far better, to be given some task that would mean racing through the cold climes of the Sierra than trapped in this room, this den, saturated with Indigo’s unique scent.
Rainstorms and fire, ice and steel, that was what Indigo was to him.
And it was a scent that was waiting for him in Hawke’s office. Sucking in a breath as he entered, he reined in the lunge his wolf wanted to make. Indigo glanced at him from where she stood in front of their alpha’s desk, but her eyes told him nothing.
However, the straight line of her spine, the angle of her jaw, it all said “keep your distance” loud and clear. Though it kicked him in the guts that he’d broken the trust between them, Andrew wasn’t about to listen to the silent order. And if Indigo thought he’d give up that easily, she had no idea who she was dealing with.
“Grab a seat, both of you,” Hawke said, sitting down in his own chair. “Have you heard from Riley, Drew?”
Andrew slid into a seat beside Indigo, stretching his legs out in front. “Got a text saying they’re planning to visit Rio de Janeiro today. Oh, and that he’s already in love with Mercy’s grandmother. Since she hasn’t clawed his guts open yet, he thinks she might like him back.”
Hawke grinned. “Poor Riley. I hope he survives.”
“He knew what he was getting into when he mated with a dominant female,” Indigo said, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair. “If he has the sense to continue to treat Mercy as exactly what she is, I’m sure her family will have no problem with him.”
Andrew knew the words were directed at him. Yeah, they cut. But they also shored up his determination. Because no way in hell was last night going to be the final word on their relationship. “You know the two cats who came up here?” he said out loud, mentally vowing to melt that icy control, and more, to make her see him. “The ones who thought they might have a shot with Mercy?”
“Eduardo and Joaquin?” Hawke said, his hair catching the light as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “What about them?”
“They took Riley out drinking last night.”
The three of them digested that for a second . . . before grins appeared on all their faces, segueing slowly into chuckles, then outright laughter—including from the lieutenant sitting so straight and stiff next to him. His wolf bared its teeth in a feral smile. Indy might think she could freeze him out like she could everyone else, but just wait.
After they’d gotten the amusement out of their system, Hawke picked up a notepad. “Okay, with Riley and Mercy both away, we’ve got to move some things around. I need you”—glancing at Andrew—“to do a few extra security shifts.”