Chapter 1
“Stand down. I have your squadmate in the truck.”
—Remington Denier, alpha of RainFire, to Aden Kai, leader of the Arrow Squad, one storm-lashed night (9 April 2082)
REMI SWORE UNDER his breath.
He’d been hoping that what he’d picked up hadn’t been conscious movement, merely branches breaking in the aftermath of the rainstorm that had passed over this part of the Smoky Mountains an hour earlier.
But what was happening on the land adjacent to his pack’s northernmost border had nothing to do with nature. Remi and his people, as well as their very dangerous friends, the Arrow Squad, had been attempting to trace the ownership of that land since two senior Arrows had woken up badly wounded in the single building that sat on the land: a flat square bunker created of old-fashioned concrete.
Back then, it had been draped in camouflage netting and dead foliage. These days, the walls were covered with moss and lichen, the concrete itself dirty and marked by exposure to the elements. Two or three more decades, and the creeping tendrils of the forest would overpower it until nothing of the bunker showed to the naked eye.
Remi would’ve been fine with that—though he’d much rather have found the owner. The Arrows knew who’d been behind their capture, but they hadn’t been able to tie any member of that group to this land. At first, it appeared the trail ended with the name of a deceased five-year-old child, but that had turned out to be just another misdirection.
Last Remi had heard, the squad’s civilian specialist had landed on another faceless shell corporation. “Whoever did the paperwork to hide ownership,” Tamar had muttered, “they were good, did all the same things I would have. Trail’s circular and eats its own tail.”
As it was, the Arrows had had to shelve the search for the time being. The PsyNet, the psychic network that connected the majority of the Psy on the planet and that the other race needed to survive, was breaking down at a catastrophic rate. The squad had focused their power and attention on that looming threat to millions of lives.
“As it is,” the leader of the squad—and Remi’s friend—Aden Kai had said, “we’ve poisoned that location for the owner, regardless. No way to run black ops out of it anymore, not when they know it’s in our crosshairs.”
Now, eyes narrowed, Remi leaned one shoulder against a mature yellow birch, its spring-green leaves a falling rain around him, and watched the small gathering in the clearing in front of the bunker: two women, three men, all of them in suits a little too lightweight for the temperature at this elevation.
The older woman—maybe in her early fifties—was a tall and very thin brunette with skin of pale brown and eyes that appeared dark from this distance. She looked to be in charge, the three men listening intently to whatever it was that she was saying.
The younger woman stood apart, her possibly curly black hair viciously contained in a knot at the back of her head, her skin an ebony that glowed even in the cloud-heavy light. She was on the taller side for a woman, maybe five eight, and wore a black skirt suit paired with a white shirt, her black heels so unsuitable for this terrain that it was laughable.
That wasn’t what caught his attention.
It was that the woman wasn’t simply silent and uninvolved in the discussion. She didn’t appear to be present, her expression seeming lax as she stared into the distance away from both Remi and the other group. Though all he could see of her was her profile, the way she stood—her arms loose at her sides, her body swaying the slightest amount— confirmed that something wasn’t quite right.
Shifting his attention off her because she wasn’t the threat, he zeroed in on the brunette. But no matter how much he strained, he couldn’t pick up on the conversation. The group was just a fraction too far away for even his leopard’s acute hearing.
Which left him with only one real choice.
He straightened, and was about to prowl out of the trees when the younger woman jerked her head in his precise direction.
Her eyes were a hauntingly eerie blue, moonstone made liquid.
Remi sucked in a breath. His leopard surged to the surface of his skin at the same time, Remi’s own eyes shifting to the yellow-green of the primal creature that was the other half of his self.
The cat’s response wasn’t, however, aggressive. It was…more complicated. As if the cat was compelled and repelled by her in equal measures. The animal within Remi had belatedly realized the same thing the human part of him already had: she might be strikingly beautiful, but even with her expression no longer distant and vacant, her body held with tension, something about her raised his hackles.
Still, aware that he couldn’t afford to scare her, Remi allowed the human side of him to rise to the surface once again as the woman began to walk toward him. The others didn’t look to be paying attention to her, but, soon, the most heavyset of the men turned to follow her.
Then the older woman called out to him, and the man returned to the huddle around her without giving the blue-eyed woman a second glance.
Not worried. Why should they be?
After all, they were meant to be alone in the wilderness.
In truth, they should have been alone. The heart of RainFire’s territory lay a significant distance away—but that didn’t mean Remi and his packmates didn’t patrol this area on a regular basis. It would’ve been stupid in the extreme to leave an unguarded threat on their border.
No one came after the younger woman even when she walked into the trees, but Remi stepped forward so she wouldn’t come too far. Right now, given the shadows thrown by the other trees immediately around them—a mix of maple and beech along with a stand of poplar—the others would still be able to see the back of her body but would have no chance of spotting Remi.
“Good morning,” he said as he took a deep inhale of her scent in an instinctive changeling act.
Scents could tell you a lot about a person.