Chapter 16

Claire, we need to discuss Theodora now that the twins’ seventh birthday is on the horizon. In my office. 8 pm. No need for Miles to be present. This is a family matter.

—Telepathic message from Marshall Hyde to Claire Marshall (1 September 2062)

IT WAS IMMEDIATELY obvious that the place was too clean.

“Someone lived here relatively recently.” Theo wiped her finger along a tabletop, came away with a fine coating of dust. “This should be thicker if it was shut up after my grandfather’s death.”

“I’m not picking up any scents other than the normal odors of a house that’s been closed up for a while.” He opened the cupboards in the small kitchen. “No sign of food.”

“The cooler is turned off.” Theo opened the door to look into its interior. “Yakov.”

“Smells like milk that’s gone off.” Face screwed up against the unpleasant but familiar odor, he joined her by the open door of the cooler. And saw what his nose had already sniffed—a small single-serve carton of milk forgotten in the corner. Fresh milk, not the kind treated so that it was shelf stable for long periods.

Picking it up, he checked the best-before date. “Expired two months ago.”

Theo shut the cooler door. “Whoever it was is long gone.”

“If you’re serious about discovering their identity,” he said, “we can get a forensic team in here, find fingerprints. We have people in the clan who specialize in that.”

“No, that would involve too many individuals.” Theo shoved her hands into the pockets of his jacket, and his bearish heart beamed at seeing her making use of the warmth. “For now, this is a minor matter. It could’ve been one of the staff—but if it was, their records are unlikely to show up in any search.”

“Because you can’t run a shadow operation without shadow people,” Yakov said, putting the spoiled milk back where it had been since he had no way to dispose of it and, once closed, the cooler kept the smell contained. “Time to check out the main building.”

Theo said nothing as they stepped outside, but he could feel the tension that was taut lines of wire throughout her body.

Judging that her balance was steady, he asked what he hadn’t earlier. “You get a flashback during your panic attack?”

A single lock of hair that had somehow come loose from the punishing tightness of her bun settled to curl softly by her ear. But her voice when she answered held the same unyielding focus he’d glimpsed in her expression. “Jumbled and broken, but yes.”

Stopping when they came within sight of the main building, she stared, her pupils once more inkblots against the searing blue of her irises. “My visual proportions are off in the flashes.”

“Viewpoint of a cub?” Yakov said.

“Cub?” A frown that cleared quickly. “Yes, a cub. A child. Half my current height or so. Young then. Under twelve. I had my main growth spurt around twelve; until then I was in the shortest percentile of my age group.”

Yakov hated the idea of a vulnerable child being in this cold and lonely place with its patina of old evil. “You have any conscious memories of the place?”

“No. Until the incident at the gate, I never knew I’d been here.”

Yakov wanted to believe her. In her favor were his own instincts, and her reaction by the gate. No one could’ve faked that panic, including the chemical changes in her body that had screamed her fear. Against her was her family and their history.

The Marshalls were very good at hiding things.

Bear and man straining against the duality, he nonetheless offered her his hand once more. She stared, and he thought she’d turn it down. But Theo Marshall surprised him all over again, sliding one slender and too-cold hand over his, her fingers curling around his palm.

“You definitely need warmer clothes,” he muttered as he enclosed hers in his much bigger hand, willing his heat to sink into her.

“Yakov?”

“Call me Yasha.” It just came out, his bear making the decision about trust well before the more logical part of him could work through his dueling feelings.

Her fingers tightened on him. “I don’t touch people.” A statement coated in a hard shell.

“I’m not people.” He winked at her. “I’m a bear.”

A frown . . . followed by the faintest tug of her lips. “I stand corrected.” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

A bird squawked loudly overhead at that instant and Theo’s head jerked up, following its progress across the sky. When she looked back at him, he could barely see the blue of her irises. “Maybe it’s a good sign.”

“It’s important to you,” he murmured, “that memory of saving the bird.”

“Yes. I think, in the end, that’s what counted most heavily in favor of our family’s decision to separate Pax and me. So maybe it’s a bad omen.” Her expression grew hard. “It used to be a secret, but I’m not keeping the Council’s or my family’s secrets anymore. We’re a Harmony pair, my brother and I.”

Yakov didn’t know that term, but he had a feeling Silver would. Not that he was about to ask her. This, what Theo had just shared, was a private thing. “Tell me about it at dinner.” Because he was damn well filling her with comfort once this was over. “After this is done.”

She squared her shoulders, the anger in her a shield of fire. “After this is done.”

They climbed the steps together, found the door locked—but that was no impediment, Theo unlocking it with her telekinesis in a matter of seconds.

Yes, that was one very useful skill in a family that liked power.

Yakov kept his mouth shut because he wasn’t about to terrorize her—she might be tough and determined, his Psy, but this was the home of her private horror.

His questions could wait, he thought as they stepped inside.