Slave to Sensation Read Free Page B

into the Center, her world would become darkness. Endless, silent darkness.
    With careful hands, she pulled off the cover of the communication console and fiddled with the circuits. Only after she’d replaced the cover did she press in Nikita’s code. Her mother lived in the penthouse several floors above.
    The answer came seconds later. “Sascha, your screen is turned off.”
    â€œI didn’t realize,” Sascha lied. “Hold on.” Pausing for effect, she took a careful breath. “I think it’s a malfunction. I’ll have a technician check it out.”
    â€œWhy did you call?”
    â€œI’m afraid I’ll have to cancel our dinner. I’ve received some documents from Lucas Hunter that I’d like to start going through before I meet with him again.”
    â€œPrompt for a changeling. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for a briefing. Good night.”
    â€œGood night, Mother.” She was talking to dead air. Regardless of the fact that Nikita had been no more a mother to her than the computer that controlled this apartment, it hurt. But tonight that hurt was buried under far more dangerous emotions.
    She’d barely started to relax when the console chimed an incoming call. Since the caller identification function had been disabled along with the screen, she had no way of knowing who it was. “Sascha Duncan,” she said, trying not to panic that Nikita had changed her mind.
    â€œHello, Sascha.”
    Her knees almost buckled at the sound of that honey-smooth voice, more purr than growl now. “Mr. Hunter.”
    â€œLucas. We’re colleagues, after all.”
    â€œWhy are you calling?” Harsh practicality was the only way she could deal with her roller-coaster emotions.
    â€œI can’t see you, Sascha.”
    â€œIt’s a screen malfunction.”
    â€œNot very efficient.” Was that amusement she could hear?
    â€œI assume you didn’t call to chat.”
    â€œI wanted to invite you to a breakfast meeting with the design team tomorrow.” His tone was pure silk.
    Sascha didn’t know if Lucas always sounded like an invitation to sin or whether he was doing it to unsettle her. That thought unsettled her. If he even suspected that there was something not quite right about her, then she might as well sign her death warrant. Internment at the Center was nothing less than a living death anyway.
    â€œTime?” She wrapped her arms tight around her ribs and forced her voice to even out. The Psy were very, very careful that the world never saw their mistakes, their flawed ones. No one had ever successfully fought the Council after being slated for rehabilitation.
    â€œSeven thirty. Is that good for you?”
    How could he make the most businesslike of invitations sound like purest temptation? Maybe it was all in her mind—she was finally cracking. “Location?”
    â€œMy office. You know where that is?”
    â€œOf course.” DarkRiver had set up business camp near the chaotic bustle of Chinatown, taking over a medium-sized office building. “I’ll be there.”
    â€œI’ll be waiting.”
    To her heightened senses, that sounded more like a threat than a promise.

CHAPTER 2
    Lucas prowled to the edge of his office and stared down at the narrow streets that led into the sensory explosion that was Chinatown, his mind on Sascha Duncan’s night-sky eyes. His animal nature had sniffed something in her that didn’t quite fit, wasn’t quite . . . right. And yet, she didn’t have the sickly smell of insanity but a delectably enticing scent that was at odds with the metallic stink of most Psy.
    â€œLucas?”
    He had no need to turn around to identify his visitor. “What is it, Dorian?”
    Dorian came to stand beside him. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he could’ve passed for a surfer hanging out, waiting for the right wave. Except for the feral edge in