Last Guard (Psy-Changeling Trinity #5) by Nalini Singh

No. Something more.

Perhaps his tendency to just aggressively trust people. A man like that … Well, it was hard not to trust him in return. Especially once you figured out that he had no hidden agenda. He was fighting for Designation A exactly as he’d said.

“I have it,” she said into the vault, not sure how long she’d blanked the rest of the Ruling Coalition. “It can be done by a syndicate of anchors acting in concert.”

The other minds around her sparked with questions, but it was Anthony who asked the most important one. “Can you explain the process?”

“No. Your brains aren’t designed to comprehend the Substrate.”

Ouch. Canto sounded like he was laughing, the rough warmth of it firelight in her blood. I bet you no one has ever told Anthony Kyriakus his brain isn’t good enough.

It isn’t. Not for this.

“You’re asking us to take you on faith,” Nikita said. “You’re asking countless people to take you on faith.”

“You do that every day.” Payal wasn’t here to play word games. “When was the last time you thought about the anchor in your region or wondered at their political leanings?”

“Touché,” Kaleb murmured softly. “Do you? Have political affiliations?”

“As Payal Rao, CEO? Yes. As Payal Rao, anchor? No.” It was that simple, her world split in two. Both were her. “Would you like to waste time on further discussion, or shall I get this started?”

“What can we do to assist?” said a dark voice that hadn’t spoken until now—Aden Kai. “Will there be confusion or other disruption on the physical plane or on the psychic?”

Payal had to take a moment to think about that, consult with Canto, then check the vital information left by past anchors. “It’s possible,” she said at last. “All most people should feel is a headache that should pass within the hour, but a few may panic.”

We’ll need Krychek’s voice.

Payal agreed. “Kaleb, you have the loudest psychic voice in the room. We’ll need you to blast a message across that area of the PsyNet, warning people of what is to come—we don’t need cooperation, but it might stave off the panic.”

“Give me the text of the warning, and I’ll adapt it to what’ll make the populace behave as needed.”

That was why Kaleb had become a Councilor while Payal hadn’t; he understood how to manipulate people in ways she never had. Lalit had the same skill. So did the empaths—though they didn’t think of it as manipulation. Es had a tendency to gently nudge people toward certain behaviors with the full cooperation of the patient.

Jaya, for example, was teaching Payal how to modify her own behavior.

But even empaths must have their bad seeds, so the same skills could conceivably be used for evil.

“I have to leave to work on the occlusion,” she said. “Our aim is to do this within the next twenty-four hours, though that will depend on technical considerations. We have some room to maneuver, but the longer we wait, the harder it’ll be on the anchors in Delhi.”

Payal had managed to maintain to date, but it was getting more difficult with each day that passed, psychic exhaustion a constant threat on the horizon. Prabhyx and Virat were the same, while Shanta—the oldest of them—was starting to sleep fourteen hours a day as her mind and body began to overload. Payal would’ve urged Nikita to hurry if she hadn’t been aware of the intricate series of actions required to open the archive without damaging the data; Nikita had sent a copy of the process to her, so she could follow along as it progressed.

Now Payal opened her eyes on the physical plane and looked at the man who would take the next step. “Do you have it?”

He nodded. “They were brilliant, our psychic forefathers. Why did we forget?”

“Because our people like to forget things. Apparently, we believe ignoring and forgetting is as good as actually fixing problems.”

“Wish I could argue with you on that.” Scowling, he turned to the door. “I’ll contact the others. Arran and Suriana will assist, I know. We’ll leave Ager and Bjorn out of it unless we’re desperate.”

“Yes, they’ve earned their rest.” She glanced at her organizer. “Ruhi has been trying to get in touch with me. I’ll need to make a few calls to keep certain balls in the air.”

“You can do that while I gather our team.”

Payal held his eyes when he glanced back at her. “I’ll have to go back to Delhi for the occlusion.” She’d have had to return soon regardless, but she’d been hoping that her brain—calm and rested—would allow her to push things a little, give her an extra day or two before her need for the tumor medication went critical.

Yet there was no other viable choice.

They were anchors.

The first and last guard of a failing system.

This was their duty.

Canto turned right back around and moved until his chair was beside where she sat, the two of them facing in opposite directions. Reaching out to cup the back of her neck, he tugged her close for a kiss long and deep. “I’ll always be there.” Hot breath against her lips, his forehead pressed to hers. “A single thought and I’ll find a way to be by your side.”

Payal fisted her hand in his shirt. “Maintain the surveillance inside Vara.” Some might consider that a strange choice, but for Payal, it meant that in a place filled with enemies, she’d have one person on her side.