Silver Silence
Page 27
After the child ran off to the knot of cubs at the entrance, Silver said, “What was he planning?”
“Dima’s suddenly developed the habit of clinging to people’s legs like a barnacle.” The words held deep affection. “It’ll pass, but for now, he’s often a one-sided weight when I’m walking around.”
“I see.” She halted, her eyes on a couple who’d begun kissing in the center of the Cavern the instant the area cleared of children, the male’s arms tight around the woman, her fingers digging into his back.
They broke apart an unusually long time later.
“Two minutes, eleven seconds!” called out a woman who’d been watching.
“Beat that!” The couple pumped their fists in the air.
“Pfft,” a male said. “I can kiss on a single breath for at least three minutes.”
“Yeah? How about you show us?”
“Or are you all words and no action?”
The heavily built bear spread his arms. “Which lovely lady wants to volunteer to be the object of my lusty affections?” His gaze landed on Silver. “Ms. Mercant? I could show you— Never mind, I like my head on my neck.”
Silver glanced at Valentin. He gave her that terrible innocent look. “You can watch this uncivilized show every night,” he told her. “Once the cubs get back from their outing, it’ll be much harder to make a clean getaway.”
“Let’s go.” She replied politely to the greetings sent her way, but didn’t stop again until they stepped outside Denhome.
The foliage began almost immediately at the entrance, but for two narrow pathways in among the trees and heavy shrubs. There was one larger cleared area that she already knew was used for a limited number of vehicles, though it was empty at present. “Where do the cubs like Dima play?”
“They’re free to run amok inside—Cavern’s full of natural light and more than big enough. It also has the pond to splash in and rocks to clamber over,” Valentin told her. “But we take them out several times a day to let them play in the open air. That play is how we teach them the beauty and the danger of the wild.”
He led Silver into the rich green of the trees.
It didn’t take extraordinary deductive skills to recognize why the clan maintained such an impenetrable wall of forests across their territory—even from the air, no one would be able to pinpoint the exact location of the place they called Denhome. Looking back, Silver had trouble finding it, even though she knew it was there; the camouflage of trees, shrubs, and moss on the mountain was flawless.
“This way, Starlichka.” Valentin shot her an assessing look after pointing out a hidden path through the undergrowth. “Nova’ll skin me alive if I overtire you. Then she’ll make high heels out of my skinned flesh.”
“I’m feeling closer to my normal self after my rest today.” It was no lie. “The fact I received immediate medical attention has no doubt contributed a great deal to my recovery. I owe you.”
Valentin lifted his hand, the scars on the back catching her attention. Dropping it before his fingers brushed her hair, his gaze strangely gentle, he said, “You would’ve done the same. We’re even—no debts between us.”
It wasn’t the kind of calculation with which Silver was familiar. In her world, a possible future act didn’t hold equal weight to an actual act. But had Valentin collapsed on her doorstep, she would’ve immediately summoned help. Not because it would’ve been a good political move to have a powerful changeling alpha in her debt—though that advantage would’ve no doubt occurred to her later—but because the Mercants had more than one guiding law.
The first was: Family. Always.
There was, however, another one that was highly unusual.
“We are the product of an eon of honor,” her grandmother had said to her when Silver was a child. “Mercants began as the loyal knights to a great king. Our ancestors were strong and proud and known for their steadfast integrity. That we function in the shadows does not mean we must no longer be true to that lineage.”
Silver wasn’t sure she believed in the founding legend of the Mercant family, but she had to admit their familial principles were very different from all other powerful Psy families of which she was aware. Because the applicable law in this situation was: Harm no innocents.
Valentin might not consider himself in any way an innocent, but he’d never been an enemy of the Mercants. A business competitor, yes, but that was a different playing field. There was no honor in taking a fight off the field of battle. Another law from their ancestors.
So, yes, Silver would have called for help.
A hidden part of her psyche stirred, struggled against the chains that contained it. Are you sure family honor is the only reason you would’ve helped him?
Chapter 13
SILVER HAD LONG ago learned to deal with that caged aspect of her nature, giving it no freedom but that which allowed it to act as her conscience. The primal, passionate emotions of the girl she’d been had no place in her adult life. She shut it down in instinctive self-preservation.
“Careful.” Valentin caught her upper arm when she stumbled over a root, the heat of him burning through the sweatshirt to sear her skin.
She stiffened.
Breaking contact at once, he thrust a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said, his tone gruff. “I know you don’t like contact.”
Silver’s greatest strength was her mind, so she picked up the subtlety in his statement: He’d said she didn’t like contact, not that the Psy race didn’t like contact. The use of the word “like” was probably inconsequential, simply the way changelings saw the world. “That file you have on me again?”
A smile that didn’t warm his eyes, the onyx absent of even a hint of amber. “Maybe.”
Silver found herself holding that gaze for motives that had nothing to do with proving her dominance. “I appreciate the assistance. Falling on my face wouldn’t have been a comfortable experience.”
Amber ringed his irises, his smile a wild thing.
Silver’s pulse jerked.
“We’re here anyway,” Valentin said, “so no more risks.”
Following his gaze, Silver saw the spreading branches of a large tree that was a burst of yellow leaves speared to translucency by the late afternoon sunlight. She couldn’t spot a single green or brown leaf amongst the shower of pale yellow, but the sloping earth below was carpeted with leaves that had turned brown, orange, and a deeper yellow.
Even more arresting than the natural view was the family of bears busy at play in the large stream at the bottom of the gentle slope on which the tree stood: One large bear with light brown fur and two darker cubs. The adult stood calmly in the water while the cubs splashed and jumped and chased what might’ve been real or imaginary fish. “Changelings?”
Valentin nodded. “Size and behavior are the clues—though the latter is occasionally negotiable.”
Most changeling animals were larger than their wild counterparts. This appeared to hold doubly true for bears. The adult standing watch over the cubs could mow down any predator that came at it. Psy wouldn’t stand a chance unless they had the psychic strength to smash a changeling mind or the telekinesis to fight them on a physical level.
“I can’t tell if the adult is male or female,” she murmured, having never had reason to learn that distinction, as StoneWater bears rarely ever shifted in the city. Even drunk, they seemed to be conscious that if they didn’t watch their physical strength, they could very easily kill humans, Psy, and nonpredatory changelings.
“Dima’s suddenly developed the habit of clinging to people’s legs like a barnacle.” The words held deep affection. “It’ll pass, but for now, he’s often a one-sided weight when I’m walking around.”
“I see.” She halted, her eyes on a couple who’d begun kissing in the center of the Cavern the instant the area cleared of children, the male’s arms tight around the woman, her fingers digging into his back.
They broke apart an unusually long time later.
“Two minutes, eleven seconds!” called out a woman who’d been watching.
“Beat that!” The couple pumped their fists in the air.
“Pfft,” a male said. “I can kiss on a single breath for at least three minutes.”
“Yeah? How about you show us?”
“Or are you all words and no action?”
The heavily built bear spread his arms. “Which lovely lady wants to volunteer to be the object of my lusty affections?” His gaze landed on Silver. “Ms. Mercant? I could show you— Never mind, I like my head on my neck.”
Silver glanced at Valentin. He gave her that terrible innocent look. “You can watch this uncivilized show every night,” he told her. “Once the cubs get back from their outing, it’ll be much harder to make a clean getaway.”
“Let’s go.” She replied politely to the greetings sent her way, but didn’t stop again until they stepped outside Denhome.
The foliage began almost immediately at the entrance, but for two narrow pathways in among the trees and heavy shrubs. There was one larger cleared area that she already knew was used for a limited number of vehicles, though it was empty at present. “Where do the cubs like Dima play?”
“They’re free to run amok inside—Cavern’s full of natural light and more than big enough. It also has the pond to splash in and rocks to clamber over,” Valentin told her. “But we take them out several times a day to let them play in the open air. That play is how we teach them the beauty and the danger of the wild.”
He led Silver into the rich green of the trees.
It didn’t take extraordinary deductive skills to recognize why the clan maintained such an impenetrable wall of forests across their territory—even from the air, no one would be able to pinpoint the exact location of the place they called Denhome. Looking back, Silver had trouble finding it, even though she knew it was there; the camouflage of trees, shrubs, and moss on the mountain was flawless.
“This way, Starlichka.” Valentin shot her an assessing look after pointing out a hidden path through the undergrowth. “Nova’ll skin me alive if I overtire you. Then she’ll make high heels out of my skinned flesh.”
“I’m feeling closer to my normal self after my rest today.” It was no lie. “The fact I received immediate medical attention has no doubt contributed a great deal to my recovery. I owe you.”
Valentin lifted his hand, the scars on the back catching her attention. Dropping it before his fingers brushed her hair, his gaze strangely gentle, he said, “You would’ve done the same. We’re even—no debts between us.”
It wasn’t the kind of calculation with which Silver was familiar. In her world, a possible future act didn’t hold equal weight to an actual act. But had Valentin collapsed on her doorstep, she would’ve immediately summoned help. Not because it would’ve been a good political move to have a powerful changeling alpha in her debt—though that advantage would’ve no doubt occurred to her later—but because the Mercants had more than one guiding law.
The first was: Family. Always.
There was, however, another one that was highly unusual.
“We are the product of an eon of honor,” her grandmother had said to her when Silver was a child. “Mercants began as the loyal knights to a great king. Our ancestors were strong and proud and known for their steadfast integrity. That we function in the shadows does not mean we must no longer be true to that lineage.”
Silver wasn’t sure she believed in the founding legend of the Mercant family, but she had to admit their familial principles were very different from all other powerful Psy families of which she was aware. Because the applicable law in this situation was: Harm no innocents.
Valentin might not consider himself in any way an innocent, but he’d never been an enemy of the Mercants. A business competitor, yes, but that was a different playing field. There was no honor in taking a fight off the field of battle. Another law from their ancestors.
So, yes, Silver would have called for help.
A hidden part of her psyche stirred, struggled against the chains that contained it. Are you sure family honor is the only reason you would’ve helped him?
Chapter 13
SILVER HAD LONG ago learned to deal with that caged aspect of her nature, giving it no freedom but that which allowed it to act as her conscience. The primal, passionate emotions of the girl she’d been had no place in her adult life. She shut it down in instinctive self-preservation.
“Careful.” Valentin caught her upper arm when she stumbled over a root, the heat of him burning through the sweatshirt to sear her skin.
She stiffened.
Breaking contact at once, he thrust a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said, his tone gruff. “I know you don’t like contact.”
Silver’s greatest strength was her mind, so she picked up the subtlety in his statement: He’d said she didn’t like contact, not that the Psy race didn’t like contact. The use of the word “like” was probably inconsequential, simply the way changelings saw the world. “That file you have on me again?”
A smile that didn’t warm his eyes, the onyx absent of even a hint of amber. “Maybe.”
Silver found herself holding that gaze for motives that had nothing to do with proving her dominance. “I appreciate the assistance. Falling on my face wouldn’t have been a comfortable experience.”
Amber ringed his irises, his smile a wild thing.
Silver’s pulse jerked.
“We’re here anyway,” Valentin said, “so no more risks.”
Following his gaze, Silver saw the spreading branches of a large tree that was a burst of yellow leaves speared to translucency by the late afternoon sunlight. She couldn’t spot a single green or brown leaf amongst the shower of pale yellow, but the sloping earth below was carpeted with leaves that had turned brown, orange, and a deeper yellow.
Even more arresting than the natural view was the family of bears busy at play in the large stream at the bottom of the gentle slope on which the tree stood: One large bear with light brown fur and two darker cubs. The adult stood calmly in the water while the cubs splashed and jumped and chased what might’ve been real or imaginary fish. “Changelings?”
Valentin nodded. “Size and behavior are the clues—though the latter is occasionally negotiable.”
Most changeling animals were larger than their wild counterparts. This appeared to hold doubly true for bears. The adult standing watch over the cubs could mow down any predator that came at it. Psy wouldn’t stand a chance unless they had the psychic strength to smash a changeling mind or the telekinesis to fight them on a physical level.
“I can’t tell if the adult is male or female,” she murmured, having never had reason to learn that distinction, as StoneWater bears rarely ever shifted in the city. Even drunk, they seemed to be conscious that if they didn’t watch their physical strength, they could very easily kill humans, Psy, and nonpredatory changelings.
