“I don’t know what she ever saw in you, but I suppose every woman has mistakes in her past.” The slightest change in her expression, the tiniest fracture, before it was sealed up again, her face an impenetrable mask. “Now I know who Indigo learned her mean face from.” But where his fellow lieutenant’s heart beat warm and generous beneath that tough exterior, he wasn’t sure Adria had any emotions that registered above zero on the thermometer.Īdria’s response was scalpel sharp. “I didn’t realize,” she said in a voice so polite it drew blood, “that fawning over you was part of the job requirement.” That didn’t seem to stop her from looking down her nose at him. “You haven’t answered my question.” It came out a growl.Įyes steely, she stepped closer with a slow deliberation that was pure, calculated provocation. A strangely delicate scent for this hard-ass of a woman, he thought, before his wolf’s anger overrode all else. She’d fought with focused determination by Riaz’s side, followed his orders on the field without hesitation.įolding his arms when she didn’t reply, he stepped into her personal space, caught the subtle scent of crushed berries and frost. “It’s the only reason,” he said, holding on to his temper by a very thin thread, “I can think of to explain why you’re so damn pissy with me.” Adria had been pulled into den territory during the hostilities with Councilor Henry Scott and his Pure Psy army a month ago and had remained behind to take up a permanent position as a senior soldier. “Indigo’s in her office.” The words were helpful, but the tone might as well have been a serrated blade.įrown lines marred her smooth forehead. “Adria.”Įyes of deepest blue-violet met his, the frost in them threatening to give him hypothermia.
RIAZ CAUGHT A flash of midnight hair and a long-legged stride and called out, “Indigo!” However, he realized his mistake the instant he turned the corner. If the Psy do not find a solution to this cancerous growth, the rot could soon begin to seep into the minds of those uplinked to the Net. Stagnant rivers of rot snake ever deeper into the center, and it is a rot that twists and corrodes, damaging sense and reason to leave only unthinking menace behind. For the majority of Psy, it is their lifeline, as vital as air.īut as autumn whispers on the horizon in the year 2081, it is the Net itself that is dying. THE PSYNET IS a place of incomparable power and stark beauty, the millions of minds in the psychic network starbursts in the inky black.
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