Page 69 of Storm Echo

Expression gentling, Nathan brushed a hand over her hair. “Then don’t worry about it. You’ll never have a problem hitching a ride with a packmate. Now go drum some sense into your Psy, and if he annoys you, you come to me.”

Soleil suddenly understood what it must feel like to have a big brother. “Thanks, Nathan,” she said, already a little in love with this man who’d been a stranger yesterday.

It was only after leaving his vehicle that she realized she didn’t have Ivan’s address. Her cat rolled its eyes and told her to go left.

Farah appeared beside her as she walked. “So,” her friend said, “you don’t need me anymore, do you?”

Soleil’s eyes burned. “I’ll always need you,” she whispered, knowing that the Farah-shaped hole in her heart would never fill. “No one will ever take your place.”

“I know. I’m the best.” Hooking her arm through Soleil’s, she laid her head down on her shoulder, her curls tickling the side of Soleil’s face. “But you’re not fractured anymore. You’ll make new friends—you’ve already begun.”

Soleil couldn’t speak, but she reached up to touch that ghostly face.

A lopsided smile as her friend came to stand in front of her, Farah’s big brown eyes full of mischief. “Love you, Leilei. Go wrangle that sexy man of yours.” She winked. “Do everything I would do.”

She was gone a heartbeat later, her voice held like a precious jewel in Soleil’s heart, and the sadness of losing her settling like a thing old and weathered inside her. No longer was it a loss sharp and stabbing, and she even found herself laughing softly as she thought of the trouble Farah had gotten her into over the years.

God, she’d miss her best friend.

It was about ten minutes later that she found herself walking up the steps of an unfamiliar home bracketed between other narrow, old-fashioned homes of the same period. She didn’t know which period, architecture far from her strong suit, but she thought it might be well over two hundred years ago.

The security system at the door, however, was top-notch and required a voice and retinal print for access. So she pressed the doorbell. When Ivan didn’t answer the buzzer, she went to the security panel and scanned her palm. As expected, it was rejected—but it brought up the menu she wanted, which listed other ways access could be gained, should the scanners be down.

Please enter numerical code.

She began to type in a code below the flashing red instruction. She wasn’t even thinking about it … until the instruction turned green to signify she’d passed that stage of entry.

Security Question #1: First name of eldest cousin.

Her fingers flew over the touchpad, typing out Canto, a name she’d never before heard in her life.

Security Question #2: Grandmother’s home.

Soleil typed in: The Sea House.

Security Question #3: Where is she buried?

Soleil hesitated, a dark—and heavily masculine—wave of sorrow sweeping over her, then typed in: Nowhere.

Access granted.

A click, as the door lock disengaged. All the hairs on her arms standing up, she stepped through, then pushed it shut behind her. She should’ve been afraid of what was going on, the depth of their half-functioning bond, but all she felt was a certainty that this was where she was meant to be, urgency pounding at her.

She’d come into a small entryway, a narrow corridor to her right and a set of steep steps directly in front of her. “Ivan!”

Silence.

Her heart thunder, she began to climb.

Chapter 33

Ivan, call your grandmother.

—Ena to Ivan (20 July 2083)

IVAN KNEW HE was in trouble. He’d woken early, right after a hazy dream about a girl who’d looked a whole lot like Soleil, then decided to check out the situation in the Net.

That was where he’d made his mistake.

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