a a a THE infection continued to hurtle across the Net in the ensuing days, decimating a huge swathe of the psychic plane and leaving thousands of people in comas. Jaya and the other medical empaths figured out a treatment of sorts five days after that beautiful, horrible afternoon of love and despair when Vasic and Ivy had crossed Samuel Rain off as an option. The treatment succeeded in bringing a small number of the infected back to consciousness and to reason.

"The disease is simply dormant in the patients we've been able to wake," Jaya told her one night as they sat on Ivy's bed, dark circles under her friend's eyes. "It's not a cure, and we can't know how long the Band-Aid will hold." A defeated slump of her shoulders. "I'm so tired, Ivy," she said, a sob in her voice. "You are, too, even if you smile through it. Your clothes are starting to hang off you."

Ivy couldn't dispute Jaya's a.s.sessment, not with her body feeling as if it had been beaten. Hugging her teary friend close, she stroked her hand down Jaya's hair. "We're all on the edge of exhaustion, even the Arrows."

That wasn't the only problem.

"How many?" Ivy asked, her fingers trembling against her mouth as Aden gave them the news the next morning.

"Nineteen," he said. "Not many in the scheme of things, but enough."

Legs shaky, Ivy sat down on the edge of the sofa. "Why did . . ." She couldn't say it, couldn't even think it. It seemed impossible that a mob had formed to kill a group of innocent Psy going about their business.

"Fear," Vasic answered shortly, his hand on her shoulder. "They believed the victims infected. The only surprise is that it took this long to spill over into violence."

"The worldwide cooperation agreements," Aden said, while Ivy tried to process the horror of it, "gave people pause. But now with empaths burning out under the nonstop outbreaks and the infected turning violent again, even formerly rational individuals are seeing vigilante justice as an answer."

Vasic glanced at the gauntlet that continued to function as far as communications were concerned. "Krychek is on his way."

"Good. We need to discuss a way to throttle the mob violence before it escalates."

A flicker at the corner of Ivy's eye half a minute later announced the deadly cardinal's arrival. Beside him stood a woman dressed in a forest green sweater-coat belted over black jeans, her dark hair pulled into a rough tail and her eyes a deep midnight blue. "h.e.l.lo." She smiled at Ivy, though the strain in her face couldn't be masked. "I'm Sahara."

Whatever Ivy had expected of Kaleb Krychek's mate, it wasn't this woman with an open expression that said she'd welcome a friendship. "Ivy."

Any other conversation had to wait, the mob attack a priority.

"We'll need the cooperation of the others."

Everyone agreed with Kaleb's a.s.sessment, and they were soon in a comm conference with representatives of the worldwide rapid-response network set up by Silver Mercant. No one had any arguments about working together to stop the chaos from spreading.

"A mob might think it has a purpose," said the security chief of the Human Alliance, "but sooner rather than later, it all devolves to mindless violence. We need to nip it in the bud."

Decisions were made, plans to head off another incident set in place.

"Sahara's discovered something intriguing," Krychek said after the comm conference ended, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa that held his mate.

Sahara put one of her hands on his thigh as she leaned forward. "Do you remember Miguel Ferrera? The commercial telepath apparently immune to the infection?"

"Of course." Ivy could still feel Miguel's panic, his horror as he hunched in that closet.

Vasic, standing behind the sofa on which she sat, stroked his thumb over the side of her neck in tactile comfort. Her Arrow knew how touch anch.o.r.ed her, never withheld it. The tension in her muscles easing, she looked across at Sahara. "Miguel still isn't showing any signs of infection as far as I know."

"Kaleb"-the other woman turned her face up to the cardinal-"was able to confirm his immunity for me. The reason why he's immune may explain all the outliers."

"The ones who have no connection to an E?"

"No obvious connection," Sahara replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with impatient fingers. "Miguel Ferrera has an empathic neighbor who was away at the time of the outbreak."

Aden, having taken a seat next to Ivy, shook his head. "Many of the infected lived in close proximity to an empath-even closer than Ferrera."

"That's just it," Sahara responded as Rabbit jumped down from his favorite window ledge and came to sit at Ivy's feet. "Miguel doesn't just live down the corridor from an E. He's listed as her emergency contact."

A hush fell over the room.

"Three months ago," Sahara continued into the quiet, "Miguel was the one who called an ambulance when the E had a fall. Three weeks after that, she named him as her emergency contact.

"Soon after that, their purchasing patterns changed. The E started ordering certain food items that previously never appeared on her online grocery order but that regularly appear on Miguel's, and vice versa. In the same period, he also twice purchased two tickets to a lecture series at a nearby gallery."

The evidence was circ.u.mstantial, Ivy thought, but compelling. "They have an emotional bond."

Sahara nodded. "That's my conclusion."

Ivy rubbed her hands over her face; something was niggling at her. "But, if an emotional bond with an E is the deciding factor, why was Eben's father infected? With such a young empath, I'd expect a connection-even if it was one-sided."

Sahara's hand tightened on Kaleb's thigh. "That case frustrated me, too," she said. "I tore the data apart looking for an answer, and I finally found it."

Chapter 56.

ENERGY PULSED OFF the other woman. "It appears Eben Kilabuk is the child of a contractual dispute-the conception and fertilization agreement was drawn up by an incompetent lawyer, and while the mother believed she had the right to full custody, the father challenged it for unknown reasons when Eben was ten. He won."

Ivy thought of how Eben had asked to call his mother during the time the teenager had stayed at the compound. "He never bonded with his father."

"Yes." Sahara held her gaze, dark blue eyes intense. "And his mother, a low-level Tk, just survived an outbreak that took out everyone else in her building."

Aden stirred. "Does the theory hold for the other outliers?"

"Yes." Sahara thrust a hand through her hair, messing it up. "All the anomalous survivors I was able to track eventually connect back to an E."

That also, Ivy thought, explained the other commonality among the survivors-a fractured Silence that was accepted by the individual. Bonds couldn't be formed within the cage of the Protocol.

"I know the data is thin yet," Sahara said, "and there's no way to manipulate the emotional bonds to protect everyone, but I thought it was important to share it."

Ivy barely heard the qualification. She could feel something pushing at the back of her mind, a huge knowledge, but she couldn't reach it. Frustrated, she met Sahara's gaze again. "The bonds, why aren't they showing up on the Net?" Ivy had grown up knowing she was loved and wanted, and yet the connection with her parents was nowhere in existence on the psychic plane.

Sahara looked to Kaleb, who said, "They're there but concealed." The cardinal's voice was obsidian in its controlled power . . . and his love for Sahara so absolute, it burned against Ivy's senses.

Sahara's emotions were as potent, as deep, and oddly-as old. As if the two had known each other far longer than they were said to have been together.

Kaleb continued to speak as Ivy considered the mystery of the couple's relationship.

"I had to make specific requests to see each one Sahara suspected." Slipping off the tie on the other woman's hair, he ran his palm over the dark strands. "The NetMind has been protecting the vulnerable for a long time."

Ivy watched the cardinal interact with Sahara, understood intellectually that the two were "mated," to use the changeling term, but though she felt their connection, she had difficulty comprehending how someone so hard, so cold, could've bonded with anyone. Much less powerfully enough to rip through the fabric of Silence itself.

A polite telepathic knock on her mind. When Ivy accepted, Sahara said, You do realize your Arrow is just as lethal as my Kaleb?

Your Kaleb only acts "human" with you.

Um, have you noticed Vasic touching anyone else?

Okay, Ivy conceded, you may have a point. Vasic didn't even touch Aden that she'd seen, and the two might as well be twin brothers, they were so close. I'll try not to sidle away next time Kaleb appears.

Sahara hid her smile behind a raised hand. It's all right. The first time Vasic teleported me anywhere, I was half-afraid he'd decide to lose me mid-'port.

Ivy reached up to touch her Arrow's hand. His fingers curled around her own, though he was listening to the conversation between Aden and Kaleb. The two of us, she said to Sahara, need to have lunch together after this is all over.

Yes-Sahara's ocean deep gaze held hers, solemn and haunted-after this is all over.

Both of them knew that might be a long time coming.

a a a UNABLE to sleep despite the fact she'd attended a bad outbreak with Vasic two hours earlier that had come close to wiping her out, Ivy sat up in bed that night and gnawed on the knowledge she could feel just beyond her reach.

"Ivy, you need to rest."

She looked down at Vasic, the light from the streetlamps coming through the thinly opened blinds marking him in tiger stripes. "Shh"-she bent to press a kiss to his shoulder-"I'm thinking."

Rising from bed after a minute, he left the bedroom and came back with a hot nutrient drink. "You're losing too much weight."

Ivy frowned. "What ab-"

"I already had mine." He tapped her on the nose, the affectionate act making her toes curl. "Now stop stalling and drink. I drowned it in your caramel syrup."

She stuck out her tongue at him but accepted the gla.s.s. Taking a sip to find he'd made it a drinkable temperature, she narrowed her eyes as he sat down beside her and pulled up something on a reader. "That better not be another manual."

"I thought you were thinking?" He looked pointedly at her gla.s.s as Rabbit raised his head in his basket, ears p.r.i.c.ked.

Gulping the drink, Ivy put the empty gla.s.s on the bedside table and sat up on her knees facing him. His eyes went to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her nipples pushing shamelessly against the camisole she'd worn to bed with her flannel pants. "Focus," she said through the pulsing ache he aroused in her with a single look. "I need to see the bonds Sahara told us about."

"I can contact Krychek." He patted the bed, and an ecstatic Rabbit scampered over to curl up in his favorite spot at the bottom end.

"No." She ran her fingers along the ridges of Vasic's abdomen, scrunching up her forehead in thought. "I have this nagging sense that he isn't naturally built to see the bonds. It seems more like the purview of an E."

Vasic nodded slowly. "It might be why the NetMind can only show him pieces."

Yes, Ivy thought. Because psychic minds were wired differently, depending on their designation. "Sascha told me the NetMind likes empaths." She nibbled on her lower lip, made a decision. "It can't hurt to ask."

Snuggling to his side, she opened her eyes on the psychic plane and wasn't surprised to see her Arrow right beside her. The black velvet night of the PsyNet, each mind a glittering star, was now "contaminated" with sparks of color, but those sparks couldn't seem to reach the stars . . . as if blocked by the invisible tendrils of a terrible, voracious corruption.

Ivy put her palm over Vasic's heart, anch.o.r.ed herself in the steadfast strength of him before she said, "NetMind?" It felt foolish to attempt to contact a vast neosentience this way, but she couldn't figure out any other. "May I please speak to you?"

Her heart kicked at the overwhelming and immediate sense that she was no longer alone inside her mind. Joy was a waterfall on her senses, flowers falling over her eyes as a sense of infinite sorrow, of such a long wait, made her want to sob. "I need to see," she said when the raw emotional cascade faded enough that she could think. "I need to see the bonds I have with others."

Thinking of how the neosentience had greeted her, Ivy tried again, this time by visualizing her loved ones as she asked the question.

It was as if a filter was placed over her mind. Her visual field changed to show a Net lit with faint golden lines. She could see her parents on those lines, her friends from the settlement, from the compound . . . and she could see Aden.

Him she could understand, but there were other Arrows, including total strangers.

Vasic wasn't visible, but she sensed him all around her, their shields interlinked. Inside her pulsed the driving need to reach out across the void to him, lock her soul to his. His own need was a dark, pa.s.sionate force that stole her breath, but he fought it. Stubborn, protective Arrow.

Multihued stars falling around her, racing from a voracious rain of black arrows. Ivy grinned and replied to the NetMind by creating an image of the stars pouncing on the arrows. It laughed and the laughter was a dazzling kaleidoscope that she tried to telepath to Vasic. Can you see?

A glimpse. It's . . . extraordinary. His heart beat under her cheek, steady and solid and alive. Can you show me the linkage?

I think so.

Vasic was quiet for several minutes. There aren't enough Arrows.

I wouldn't expect to be connected to them all.

Yes, but you're already connected to more than you should be-through Aden, and if it's through Aden, you should be connected to every single Arrow in the squad.

Because Aden, she understood, was their acknowledged and accepted leader. "Is Aden particularly close to any other Arrows?" she said out loud.

"There are three or four senior Arrows with whom he works on a regular basis, but he knows and is aware of the mental health of every single member of the squad."

So, again, she should be connected to them all through Aden, yet Ivy saw only a scattering.

Deciding to focus on those connections, she traced them outward . . . and found all but one Arrow she could see through Aden appeared to have no other connection to anyone. Abbot was the single exception. That didn't make sense, since Arrows were all connected to one another. Unless- "It cuts off at the second layer," she murmured, even as she realized these bonds were different from the kind of bond that tied Sahara and Kaleb to each other.

She'd thought fractured Silence was a necessity, but clearly it was simply something that often happened to coexist alongside these ties. A majority of the squad walked the edge of absolute Silence, and yet the golden links had formed . . . almost as if they were so necessary, all that was needed was a single crack for it to take hold. Such as the loyalty that bound the members of the squad to one another or the responsibility an Arrow felt for the safety of his E.

Chewing on that, she traced her link to Jaya, the other E's constellation of bonds opening up in front of her as if she was flying over a city lit up for the night. She didn't know the minds in Jaya's network except for Abbot and Aden. Jaya, too, was linked to unknown Arrows through the leader of the squad, but they were different from the ones in Ivy's group.

Jaya's network held a surprise: another E. Perhaps a family member. That E was linked only to a tiny number of others, no secondary layer. Ivy woke Jaya up with a telepathic hail, though she knew her friend needed the rest. This was too important. Jaya, do you have another empath in your family? What Gradient?

Jaya's sleep-hazy voice mumbled, Yes, a child. Untested for E abilities, but I think he's probably around 3 or 4 on the Gradient. Why?

Go back to sleep. I'll tell you later.

Okay.

"We're the Band-Aids," she whispered, sitting up to face her Arrow. "I get it now. I understand how we can save the Net, why there are so many of us."

Vasic spread the fingers of one hand on her lower back. "Tell me."