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I suppose I could tell someone…nah, why would I do that when I can use it? Now that I know what the whispers are, it’s not annoying. No, now it’s interesting .

Bram was waiting for Adam near the turnoff to the Canyon, his own dusty vehicle parked to one side of the night-draped road.

Not wanting to be wiped out by the time of his arrival, Adam hadn’t flown on the wing.

Instead, he’d managed to get a commercial jet-chopper flight into Raintree, landing on the high school’s sports field under the blaze of the football lights the school had switched on for him.

Pascal had been waiting with one of the clan’s vehicles—after handing it over, the senior wing commander had flown back to the Canyon on the wing because he needed some time in the air.

Now Bram got into the passenger seat of Adam’s vehicle and said, “You need John Hendricks’s memories stripped?”

Adam had given Bram a call en route, told him only that he needed an assist. The other man had asked no further questions.

That he’d figured out WindHaven had Hendricks wasn’t the issue—the entire town probably knew the falcons had Hendricks.

You didn’t touch a WindHaven fledgling and live to tell the tale.

It was his assumption about memories that surprised Adam. “I thought I’d ask you in person, see if it bothered you. No foul if it does—I can—”

“Let’s go.” Bram had obviously started the day dressed in what seemed to be the J Corps uniform of black or gray suits with white shirts, but though he still wore the gray pants, his jacket was missing in action and his white shirt smudged with dust, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows in rough folds.

Adam drove on through the stillness of the night, taking the other man at his word.

“We’ll give him back if necessary.” He’d made that call on the road.

“We were in hell with Malia gone for such a short time—I’ll never withhold him if seeing him face justice in a courtroom will bring peace to people who’ve been in the same hell a lot longer. ”

Bram tapped his finger on the window ledge.

“You can’t talk to them because they don’t know you, but Tim Xiao—the head of the task force—can and did; he told them there was a strong possibility Hendricks had become lost in the desert while attempting to escape apprehension, and chances were that he was dead.

“All they wanted was proof of death. None mourned the loss of a trial—they already see how he has all the media coverage while their girls are relegated to being footnotes. Giving him a trial would be everything he ever wanted.”

Adam’s talons pushed out in a rage born of the grief of three families he’d never met. “We can make sure his remains are found in the desert.” He picked up speed. “Xiao a J like you?”

Bram shook his head. “No, he’s human and dangerously smart…but he’s been half–in love with Eleri for years, so he’s willing to swallow the report about Hendricks having stumbled off into the desert.”

…half–in love.

All this time, Adam had just assumed Eleri was his because of the mating bond, that she’d never felt that kind of pull to any other man. That was one hell of an assumption.

“Eleri’s not in love with him,” Bram said, as if reading Adam’s thoughts. “I don’t think she even realizes.”

Adam forced his talons back in, forced the subject away. If Eleri had felt the pull, she’d have acted on it. Adam’s mate had a spine of titanium.

His phone rang on the car’s system, Detective Beaufort’s name flashing on the screen. “Beaufort,” he said, answering the call. “You’re on speaker. Bram’s with me.”

“The chief’s woken up.” Open relief in his deep voice. “Best piece of news I’ve had on this nightmare of a day.”

“He remember anything about what happened to him?”

“Says he knows Hendricks came to his door, but that’s it. Total blank from then on. Aside from that little bit of memory loss, he’s his old self.”

Adam frowned. “Why would Hendricks do anything to him? Just because he was the most experienced member of the Raintree Enforcement team?”

“No, Chief says he was probably worried about the vehicle Jacques found. Chief surprised Hendricks at his place about a year ago. He wanted to drop off a pie after Mrs. Cross made too many and didn’t bother to call ahead. I remember him dropping off two pies at the station, too.

“Hendricks’s back garage was open at the time, and the chief commented on the truck.

Said Hendricks told him it was an uncle’s and he was fixing it up so the uncle could sell it.

You know Chief Cross has a steel-trap mind.

He would’ve remembered the vehicle soon as he looked at Jacques’s file that morning. ”

“Hendricks could’ve got out of it with a little fancy footwork with Jacques and anyone else,” Bram said, entering the conversation for the first time.

“Cop to hiding it in the desert because he didn’t want to pay the registration and insurance on the vehicle—he’d have got a slap on the wrist at most. No reason for anyone to investigate further. ”

“I guess he panicked,” Beaufort said. “Couldn’t be sure there was no victim DNA in it—but instead of lying his way to a lesser offence and paying up what he owed, he shot Jacques and made sure the vehicle would be processed.”

“He got away with murder because he had time to plan it,” Adam said, “but he doesn’t think fast on his feet.”

He’d witnessed that himself while in the air one day.

A child had run across Main Street without looking, while Jocasta Whitten and Hendricks had both been nearby. It was Hendricks who’d been facing the child, but it was Whitten who’d sprung into action to grab the boy off the street—while Hendricks blinked indecisively.

Adam had seen that because he’d landed by then, having dived the instant he saw the child step onto the street.

“I think you’re right,” Beaufort said. “Man never did react well to unexpected changes. I should’ve known something was up when he was so calm and helpful after we found the chief. Even offering to go in and tidy up. Christ.”

Bram spoke again. “It’s not your fault. Psychopaths have the ability to wear a mask so well that no one sees beneath. Nice, quiet neighbor, would’ve never thought it was him. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” But from the tone of the other man’s voice, it’d take him time to get his head around the fact that one of his deputies had been murdering women while working under him.

Spying the entrance to the Canyon garage up ahead, Adam ended the call soon afterward. “You claustrophobic?”

“No. Why?”

“We’re going to go deep,” he said, and drove straight through the garage to a large roller door on the other side that stayed shut most of the time.

Today, it was up, with two falcon soldiers on guard outside it.

“Close it behind me,” he told the women as he passed.

It was already being rolled down as they passed through.

“This was built as a winged escape tunnel during the Territorial Wars,” Adam told Bram, “but my grandmother had it enlarged to fit vehicles.”

“Impressive.”

“My wing-second, Dahlia, put Hendricks in the deepest part of the Canyon, the farthest possible spot from any unshielded human minds.” She’d also offered to interrogate the male on the subject of the other possible victims, but Adam wasn’t about to put that on her.

Some things, a wing leader had to shoulder.

He drove on through the unlit tunnel, his headlights making the minerals in the rock sparkle. “Until today, I never truly understood the vulnerability humans live with on a daily basis.”

Unlike changelings, most humans had no natural shields, and thus just had to trust the Psy around them not to violate their minds. “That takes incredible strength.”

Bram nodded. “Give them a shield and humans could rise to become the most powerful of the three races—they’ve been honed by centuries upon centuries of forced sheer, blind courage.”

“My sister’s trying to come up with a solution for Eleri’s shields,” Adam said as he navigated a tight corner with care. “If it works, it might work for humans, too.”

“An artificial shield for Psy?” Bram sat up straighter. “Has she liaised with the people working on a human shield?”

Adam’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. “Are they ahead of the curve? Will they help with Eleri?”

“No,” Bram said after a pause. “No, I think it’s better your sister works in isolation. All attempts at artificial shields so far have failed. Better she start from a clean slate.”

All attempts at artificial shields so far have failed.

The headlights caught Dahlia waiting for them beside the small chamber where she’d stashed Hendricks. Leaving the rugged vehicle where it was, Adam turned off the lights and allowed their eyes to adjust to the more muted glow provided by the electric lantern in Dahlia’s hand.

“What’s he doing?” Adam asked after he and Bram joined her.

“I have two people inside with him at all times and they say he’s basically either raving at them, threatening their lives, or trying to sweet-talk them into letting him go.

” Dahlia’s upper lip curled. “Man is batshit, but he definitely understood what he was doing and that it was wrong. No fucking insanity plea for him if we decide to let him out to face the courts.”

“Any luck tracing his bloodline?”

A hard shake of the head. “He was surrendered by his birth mother at a hospital—literally left in the bassinet they keep there for that purpose. No record of who she was, or his paternal line. Dead end.

“Don’t feel too sorry for him, though—folks who fostered him that night ended up adopting him.

They’re genuinely nice people and you know I don’t make that judgment lightly.

They have two other adopted children who turned into caring adults.

One teaches kindergarten; the other’s a paramedic who volunteers at homeless shelters in his off time. ”