Shards of Hope (Psy-Changeling 14)

You aren’t what we wanted, but we’ll have to make the best of it. As you aren’t fit to lead, your task is to find a suitable stronger child and do everything in your power to support him to the leadership. An Arrow must be at the helm, one who remembers who and where he came from. We thought Ming was that Arrow, but he isn’t one of us—never forget that, no matter what face he wears.

The irony was that Aden had already found an outwardly stronger child, through no effort of his own. Vasic’s teleportation and telekinetic abilities made him a far more suitable candidate—but Vasic didn’t want the position, and he’d seen in Aden what Aden’s parents never had.

So had Zaira.

You’ll lead, Aden. You already do.

Both the most important people in his life had said that to him at different times, in different words. Their belief had been enough to temper his parents’ disappointment and lack of faith. Marjorie and Naoshi had started then nurtured the rebellion with a number of critical actions, and Aden would never downplay their contribution, but they had never treated their son as anything but a regrettable mistake. Yet they wondered why that son didn’t treat them as elders, didn’t heed their words. They didn’t comprehend that they’d given up that right long, long ago, even before their defection.

The only two people who had the right to question Aden on that level, or to challenge his decisions, were Zaira and Vasic.

At that instant, Zaira slipped a second time and little Jojo ran over to grip tightly at Remi’s hand. Aden, meanwhile, held his position with sheer strength of will, keeping his face expressionless and his eyes resolutely on her.

He was also calculating odds—if she fell from her current height, she’d still break a bone, but she’d survive. He would’ve raked her over the coals for taking the risk but he understood why she’d done it: Zaira did not do well under any kind of confinement, even that forced by the weather in the middle of a sprawling natural landscape.

Why do I have to sleep in a room? Why can’t I sleep outside?

She’d asked him that mutinous question when they’d both been children. He couldn’t remember how he’d convinced her to grit her teeth and go to sleep in the small dorm, but as soon as he had the power, he’d made sure she never had to do the same again.

When the decision was made to turn the slumbering Venice base into an active asset, he’d had to select a commander to lead the op. He hadn’t chosen Zaira because of her need for space, for freedom; he’d done so because she was one of his best commanders, one who could think independently and who had a nature rebellious enough to stand firm against the older defectors who’d assumed they would be the ones actually calling the shots. But the fact that she had a large room with a balcony in Venice was his doing—that balcony was over a canal, meaning Zaira always had a secondary escape route and the option to sleep with the balcony door open if she wished.

Never again would anyone lock her in.

Zaira missed a grip, was left hanging by her fingertips.

Chapter 20

MORE THAN ONE changeling ran closer, as if to catch her, but Aden stood exactly where he was, willing her to recover. She did. With a deliberate focus and an intelligent strength that had Theo shaking his head, eyes gone wolf in admiration. “Man, she’s got serious fucking balls.”

Aden made a note to repeat the comment to Zaira; she’d appreciate it.

“Just so you know,” Remi drawled from his other side, “a whole lot of the dominants in the pack are going to be trying their luck with her now.”

Aden was starting to become used to feline slyness, so he understood that Remi was needling him to find out if he and Zaira had a relationship. He answered regardless. “They’re too late.” She was his, had given herself to him long ago. He wasn’t planning on returning the gift, no matter if she believed herself too broken to walk with him.

“Yeah.” A grin in the alpha’s voice. “That’s what I figured.”

When Zaira’s feet finally hit the ground after several more risky moves, Jojo laughed and ran over to hug her legs. “Wow! Zai, cat climb!”

Aden’s heart thundered, his breath finally coming easier.

Sweating, and with her features giving nothing away, though he knew she had to be in pain, Zaira placed her hand gently on Jojo’s head. “A cat with no claws.”

Zaira’s eyes met his as the little girl laughed; her gaze was opaque, inscrutable. “I should head off to shower.”

“Not until you tell us how you did that.” Theo looked up at the wall, shook his head again. “It should’ve been impossible—that’s an elite-level climb with claws.”

Zaira tugged very carefully on one of Jojo’s pigtails to get the tiny girl’s attention. “May I lift you for a second?”

An unconcerned shrug. “Okay.”

Shifting her hands to under the child’s armpits, Zaira lifted her a few inches off the floor, then set her down again. “Thank you.”

Jojo leaned against her leg in answer.

Remi, meanwhile, had raised an eyebrow. “Theo should weight lift Jojo?”

“No. I was testing my hypothesis.” Zaira put her hand back on Jojo’s hair, the touch seeming to come more naturally this time. “To me, Jojo weighs more than she should for a child her size.”

Theo nodded. “Changelings have heavier bones. Yours are more fragile.”

“Yes. So even if a changeling woman who looked exactly my size stood next to me, the two of us indistinguishable to the naked eye, she would still be heavier than me in weight.”