Chapter 15

Dear D,

And the letter writing tradition continues! Today’s stationery is from a company called Visions. I thought that was apt, given that my big brother is a foreseer.

I meant to ask—did you foresee that our parents would decide to adopt two little boys after seeing their story on the news? They’re such adorable little munchkins. I’m excited to be the elder sibling for once! Fingers crossed the adoption process goes smoothly.

I’ve just received word from the company that they want me to head a project in Zürich for the next six months. That’ll mean a delay in my wedding to Kanoa, but he’s excited about getting a chance to play in Switzerland. He’s already put out feelers with the orchestras there, and given his reputation and experience, chances are high he’ll soon have an offer.

I’ll send you our new address in Zürich once I have it, and of course I expect you to visit me again. I loved having you and Marian stay with me in Paris. I know it’ll be different this time, with Kanoa in the mix, but you two already get along like a house on fire—and Marian is my soul sister. I know we’ll have a blast.

I’m assuming you haven’t seen the Silence questionnaire they’re sending out through the PsyNet, so I am attaching a copy for you. There are a number of thoughtful questions in there, big brother.

Love from your little sister, Hien

—Letter from Hien Nguyen to Déwei Nguyen (1 September 1973)

BEFORE THEO COULD get back inside Yakov’s rugged vehicle, he grabbed something from the back passenger seat and said, “Here. You’re cold.”

It was a leather-synth jacket in a deep shade of brown. Lined with what looked like fleece, it’d be incredibly warm. She wanted to grab at it, but kept her hands to her sides. “I have a coat in my luggage.”

“Which it’ll take you a while to open up and find,” he pointed out. “Take the jacket. I only use it when it’s snowing. You might as well get use out of it.”

Theo shivered again, then felt her eyes narrow when he raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, she wanted to reject the jacket just because he looked so smug. So much like . . . like a bear! Which was utterly irrational. Then again, part of the reason her grandfather had so disliked her was that she was irrational. The most irrational member of the family.

Grabbing the jacket, she shrugged into it. The length of the arms would’ve probably been perfect if it hadn’t had such wide shoulders—hers were far narrower than his. But that was an easy fix and she quickly rolled up the sleeves before giving him a grudging “Spasibo.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a glint in his eyes that told her he could guess at her uncharitable thoughts. “Make sure you close up the throat. That’s where you lose the most heat. Looks good with your outfit.”

Now she was sure he was making fun of her. Her “outfit” was blandness personified. She’d made sure of that. Deciding that sometimes one had to ignore bears who were clearly amusing themselves, she got into the passenger seat without responding.

But once there and staring out at the drive, she was grateful to him for distracting her from the situation, even if only for a few moments. Because her stomach began to churn the instant she was staring ahead once again. She might’ve conquered her grandfather’s ghost, but her own invisible memories howled.

Yakov glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “Go?”

She made herself nod, the action bringing even more of his scent to her nose. He might not use this jacket much, but he used it enough that his scent was embedded in its weave and heft. She should’ve found it too much, claustrophobic. Instead, she took his advice and zipped the standing collar all the way.

If she tucked her chin down, she’d be breathing him in.

Ahead of them, the drive continued to whisper into shadowy darkness . . . before it curved to the right.

“Good way to ensure no sightline from the gate.” Yakov’s words were crisp, his body alert.

“There were light sensors here at some stage.” She pointed out the small black box that had fallen onto the ground from its intended position. Likely on a large tree trunk close by. “No way to sneak up to the facility even if you bypassed the gate.”

“A changeling could’ve gone through the forest,” Yakov pointed out. “But we’d have had to have a reason to come poking around so far off the beaten path. Especially if everyone thought it was a medical facility.”

His chest rumbled. “As a juvenile, I never knew Centers were for hurting people. If I ever thought about them, I figured they were Psy-only clinics. Made sense since Psy and changelings and humans don’t have the exact same physiological needs.”

“No.” The three races were almost but not quite identical. Just enough minor deviations to make a difference when it came to medical care.

“I’m pretty sure my great-grandfather must’ve known the truth of the Centers,” Yakov added, “but I want to imagine he didn’t. I mean, Psy in Silence were pretty tied to the idea of keeping their secrets, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility. From all I know of him, the truth would’ve broken his heart.”

Before she could ask him why his great-grandfather might have had reason to be interested in the Centers, the landscape opened up enough to reveal a large and weathered building surrounded by more foliage. Vines crawled over the walls, their roots a fine mesh beneath the red-gold of the leaves, and fallen debris covered the twin ramps and one set of stairs that led up to the wide front door. The roof appeared undamaged but the weatherproof coating had begun to peel off in patches that exposed the coppery underside.

Theo could tell the building had been white once upon a time, though it was now smudged with dust and dirt. While most of the windows were whole, a couple bore large cracks from what looked like accidental hits by broken branches and other storm detritus. Remnants of those branches still lay below and around the property.

The place echoed with emptiness.

Maybe that was why she didn’t panic, curiosity overriding her wariness. Or perhaps it was because it looked so different from—

A clear flash of memory, of seeing this building from her grandfather’s car.

Her heart thumped but there was no panic this time. Only a grim determination. She got out, her gaze going immediately to the right where she’d seen—She frowned, thought, but the fragment of memory, if that was what it had been, slipped out of her grasp.

Yakov, who’d been prowling around, came to a halt near her. “Certainly looks abandoned,” he said, “but according to the map your brother forwarded, there’s a large area at the back along with a shed and another outbuilding. I say we check that section out before we attempt entry into the building.”

Willing to take his guidance on this because security had never been her bailiwick, she fell into step with him . . . a little too close for a Psy, but he didn’t seem to mind or even notice. Because he was changeling, his standards of physical proximity were different than her own.

The fallen autumn leaves crunched beneath her feet, the sound painfully loud to her ears. “Am I making too much noise?”

“No, that’s background. I’m picking up nothing—no scent, no sound—that indicates any other presence that isn’t avian, and maybe a few mice.”

No functioning medical facility would ever allow rodents so close.

Gut taut for a different reason now, she said, “Even Pax couldn’t unearth the final count of those held here, but it was at least fifty people. Thirty patients to twenty staff, but that’s the best guess he was able to make after running the financials.”

Yakov’s arm brushed hers as they walked, and she realized she was all but pressing herself against him. It was incredibly bad form in Psy society . . . but she couldn’t make herself pull away. And he still didn’t seem to really notice.

So she stayed. Warm and safe against his solid bulk, the quiet horror of this place held at bay.

THEO’S tension was an acidic burn against Yakov’s skin.

No fear now, but rather the embers of a simmering rage as she considered the evil that might’ve taken place here.

Theo was pissed.

Angry enough that his bear made a note to never make her that mad at him.

But her anger didn’t mean she wasn’t also in pain. What had happened back at the gate? The panic attack? That had been no minor reaction. Stuff like that didn’t just disappear—no matter how determined the person involved.

Still, at least she’d tucked herself against him.

He’d been around Psy enough now to know that was a big fucking deal, a signal of trust she likely wasn’t even aware of transmitting.

His bear moved against the inside of his skin . . . right as they finally came around the side of the building and saw what was supposed to be a large courtyard area at the back. Fallen leaves of yellow and red and brown covered the mildewed paving stones, the furniture was stacked neatly to one side where it hadn’t been pushed over by the wind, and the pergola was collapsed in one corner due to damage done by a tree that must’ve fallen in a storm.

But it was the far left of the courtyard that caught his attention. “That look like a greenhouse to you?”

Theo frowned.

Yakov wasn’t surprised by the open expression of her feelings; it was clear that she wasn’t exactly the perfect Silent Psy. Might never have been, given how easily emotion came to her.

Her brother might do a good impression of an android, but there was nothing hesitant or false about Theo’s reactions—or about the raw violence of what she kept contained. He could almost feel the vibration of her anger against his skin.

When Theo Marshall blew, she might take out half the world.

“Yes,” she said now in response to his question about the possible greenhouse. “A cheap one—looks like it’s not glass but plas sheeting creating the walls.”

“Yeah.” Part of one “wall” was flapping in the light breeze, and when they got closer, he saw that an entire section had torn away and flown off to lie crumpled against the door of a closed shed. He checked out that shed first, found it empty of anything but a few rusty tools. “Must’ve been the landscaper’s shed,” he said on returning to the makeshift greenhouse.

Theo pointed. “Vegetables.”

Yakov crouched down to touch the seedlings that had rooted on their own after the pots on the rickety metal shelving had fallen off. “I didn’t see anything in the files that said this place was supposed to be self-sustaining.”

A shake of Theo’s head, her eyes scanning the area. “No, it was a normal facility in that sense. Regular deliveries of food and other supplies.” She looked back at him. “Someone lived here. At least for a while. Properly lived here.”

Rising, he said, “Let’s do a quick recon of the one other building that’s meant to be out here, then we’ll go look inside the main structure.”

Theo’s gaze jerked to the main building before she wrenched it back. Her pupils were huge, almost overwhelming the blue.

Pretending he hadn’t seen her visceral response—because this bear had manners and he was smart enough not to poke at a very angry woman, thank you very much—Yakov took the lead toward the other building he’d seen on the original map of the facility.

“We’ll have to do a full sweep,” he said as they walked through the overgrown vegetation. “Might be other temporary structures on the grounds.” He pushed aside an overhanging branch dotted with small yellow flowers so Theo could pass through; the vegetation wasn’t yet at the point that it was impenetrable, but it was making a good effort.

He took the lead again once Theo was past . . . and got a sharp look from her. Oh yeah, Theo Marshall was no submissive. In point of fact, she’d eat a submissive alive.

Good thing Yakov had the dominance to balance out hers—and that he was about as charming a bear as could be.

Grinning his best bearish grin, he said, “I have boots,” and pointed out the thick and tall grass up ahead. “I can stomp a path through for you.”

Theo’s lips tightened, and he had the thought that she knew far more about bears than he realized. She might even bust him for being protective. But she gave a curt nod, and they continued on—with his bear keeping a wary eye on a woman who had far more layers to her than he’d initially realized.

Problem was that Yakov liked complicated.

“There it is.” Theo pointed to a patch of grayish white just visible through the trees.

“Here.” He made his way through another patch of grass. “Looks like the path’s pretty clear on this side.” Just moss and mildew—and the carcass of a dead bird.

Yakov was a predatory changeling, the hunt in his blood. But he didn’t like to see an animal injured when it wasn’t about food. So he paused, broke off the plate-sized leaf of a nearby plant, and gently scooped the bird’s featherweight body onto it before laying it carefully at the foot of a tree, where it would decompose without being stepped on, its tiny bones crushed.

Theo had paused beside him, watching in silence.

When he rose to his feet after completing his task, she was looking at him in a way that he didn’t understand. Her next words held a haunted echo. “We saved a bird once. Pax and I.” It was a murmur. “We made its heart start beating again.” A quick shake of her head, a blink.

“Theo?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Her tone was back to normal. “We should hurry so we don’t waste the available daylight.”

Deciding that little mystery could wait for the moment, Yakov continued on toward the building. It looked to have been a small residence. Neat and tidy from what he could see through the windows, with no sign of disturbance.

Then Theo put her hand on the front door lock, snicked it to the unlocked position . . . and opened the door.