Page 9 of Silver Elite

“Ha!”

“You’re always laughing at me. Stop it.”

“Stop saying ludicrous things.”

But that’s not Wolf’s style. He has no filter, never has. And he’s an outrageous flirt, although the flirting didn’t really start until we hit our teenage years. One day, we were two kids talking about kid stuff; the next, we were discussing our love lives. A bit unnerving, considering we’ve never actually met.

I linked with Wolf when I was six years old, and to this day I still remember the excitement I felt when I first heard his voice. It was a warm summer morning. I’d been playing in the clearing outside thelittle house Uncle Jim had built for us. There are pockets within the Blacklands where the sun can penetrate, if only a thin shard of it, and our grassy clearing was one of those havens. Every day, we had five or six hours of concentrated sunlight that shone down on us before the mist shifted and we were eclipsed in darkness again. That morning, I ran up to Jim, vibrating with elation.

“Uncle!” I exclaimed. “I have afriend.”

Predictably, Jim had reacted with suspicion. I don’t know why I expected otherwise. “What friend?” he demanded, looking up from the new beam he was sanding. That year he’d started building raised walkways to lay over the black quicksand pits so we could navigate more easily when we went hunting. I used to love dancing across those beams during our excursions.

Rather than share in my happiness when I told him a random boy had opened a path into my mind and said hello, Jim grabbed the front of my sweater, gripping the scratchy wool in his fist. Later, when I was older, he would admit how scared he’d been that day, how he’d always worried something like that might happen. Spontaneous linking is common in telepathic children. Kids, especially young ones, have little control of their gifts. But that morning in the clearing, he looked more furious than afraid. He ordered me to never speak to the voice in my head again.

The reminder brings a familiar rush of guilt. I promised I would close the link to the curious boy, only a few years older than me. The problem is, when you grow up in a world of darkness with a grumpy guardian and no one else your age, you welcome another child to play with, even if you are just playing with them in your head.

I didn’t completely disregard Uncle Jim’s wishes. When the boy made contact again and I guiltily let him, I was clear I couldn’t tell him my name. “That’s dumb,” he griped after I informed him I wasn’t allowed to. But we did have fun picking code names. I chose Daisy because it was my favorite flower. He chose Wolf because he liked wolves.

I know I should’ve pushed the boy out of my mind—literally—but life had been lonely then. Just Jim and me, living in a place with only five hours of sunshine and a lot of scary shit trying to kill us. I neededWolf. I liked his company. I still do, even when he’s mocking me about breaking hearts.

“Seriously,”he says now.“How was your night? I need to live vicariously through you. It’s been a couple of months for me.”

I’m surprised. From the smug way he brags about it, he’s very popular with women.

“Why is that?”

“Been busy.”

“So that’s why you’ve been quiet lately.”I hadn’t heard from him in weeks before he suddenly touched base earlier tonight.

I don’t ask what’s kept him busy, same way he’d never ask me. That’s standard procedure when you’re Modified. There’s no such thing as absolute trust. Even Jim, the man who risked his life for me and my parents, theoretically the one person I should trust implicitly, doesn’t get one hundred percent from me. Otherwise, he would know all about Wolf.

“To answer your question, it was fun. But he got a little needy at the end. Kept begging to see me again. I suppose I can’t blame him. I’m exquisite.”

That gets me a wave of laughter.“Arrogant bitch.”

I laugh, too, but the humor falters when I think about Jordan’s earnest desire to see me again.

“Does it ever bother you?”I ask Wolf.

“What?”

“Lying to Primes. Like the ones you sleep with. Or your friends from upper school. Job placement colleagues. You know, the good ones. Do you feel bad lying to them?”

There’s a pause.

“Sometimes,”he admits.“But the occasional pang of guilt is preferable to the alternative. Or alternatives, plural. You never know how a Prime will react to finding out their lover or classmate or co-worker is a silverblood.”

He’s not wrong. Best case, they’re horrified but are somehow convinced to keep your identity a secret. Likeliest case? They turn you in and attend your Command execution, cheering when the firing squad pulls their triggers.

“What’s this about, Daisy? You feel shitty about lying to your soldier tonight?”

“Not exactly. I feel…discouraged that he’ll never know who I am. He has no idea that he spent his entire night with a woman he’s incapable of ever truly knowing. Sometimes I wish people could know me.”

“I know you.”His voice is husky in my mind.“Does that count for something?”

My heart clenches, and I have to swallow the lump of emotion.“Yes. It does.”I gulp again, eager to lighten the mood.“Anyway, I gotta go. I’m trying to concentrate on driving. Can’t telepath and drive, you know?”

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