of his neck and put the phone to his ear. âThey agreeâIâll draft the contract.â He closed the small flat communicator.
âWeâre not going to forget that you have to sell all the residences to receive that final million.â
There was something distinctly smug about his slow smile. âNot a problem, darling.â
It was as they were getting back into the car that she realized this was the first Psy-changeling fifty-fifty business deal sheâd ever heard of. That didnât bother herâher instincts said theyâd do very well out of this. Too bad that mentioning the word âinstinctsâ would get her chemically lobotomized.
Lucas was utterly frustrated. Not only was Sascha refusing to reveal anything useful, she kept picking up on small changeling traits no Psy shouldâve been able to sense. Even worse, he was having to fight the urge to educate her rather than subtly interrogating her for answers.
âHow about this?â He showed her another line of the proposed contract. They were sitting in his office at the top of the DarkRiver building. Heâd found her an office right next door. It was the perfect setup. If sheâd talk.
She looked at the piece of paper and slid it back across the dark wood of the desk. âIf you change the word âatâ to âin,â itâs fine with me.â
He thought over the change. âAll right. The SnowDancers arenât going to fight you over that.â
âBut they will fight me?â
âNot if the contract is fair.â He wondered if a Psy even understood the meaning of integrity. âThey trust me and Iâll tell them the truth. So long as you donât try anything underhanded, theyâll stick to their word.â
âA changelingâs word can be trusted?â
âProbably far more than a Psyâs.â He felt his jaw tighten as he thought of the self-righteous way the Psy claimed to be without anger and violence, when it was becoming damn clear they were anything but.
âYouâre right. Subtle prevarication is considered an efficient bargaining tool in my world.â
He was more than surprised by her acceptance of his point. âJust subtle?â
âPerhaps some take it too far.â
There was a stillness to her that made him want to cover the space between them and stroke his hand over her body. Perhaps touch would achieve what words hadnât. âWho punishes the ones who take it too far?â
âThe Council.â The statement was absolute.
âWhat if the Council is wrong?â
Her eyes met his, unflinching and eerily beautiful. âThey know everything that goes on in the PsyNet. How could they be wrong?â
Which meant, he deduced, that not everyone was privy to the secrets of the Net. âBut if no one else has access to all the information, how can they be held accountable?â
âWho holds you accountable?â she asked instead of answering. âWho punishes the alpha?â
He wished he were on the other side of the desk so he could touch her and find out if she was fighting fire with fire, or simply being practical. âIf I break Pack law, the sentinels will take me down. Who takes down your Council?â
He almost thought she wouldnât answer. Then she said, âThey are Council. They are above the law.â
Lucas wondered if she understood what sheâd just admitted. More than that, he wanted to know if she cared . That was truly madness, because the only thing the Psy cared about was the cold sterility of their lives. Except every instinct he had said that Sascha was different.
He had to uncover the truth about her before he did something he regretted. And the best way to crack that impenetrable Psy shell might be to yank her from the safety of the world she knew and throw her into the flames. âHow about lunch?â
âI can meet you back here in an hour,â she