Last Guard by Nalini Singh

Chapter 28

Trust is a fragile glass bird. Drop it once, and it will shatter into shards innumerable.

—Inshara Rao, essayist (1892)

CANTO WOKE TOthe awareness that he wasn’t alone. His telepathic senses had scanned out automatically on waking, a security measure he’d built into his brain in childhood. It had been a way to control what was happening to him.

He hit a changeling mind he couldn’t read, then a Psy one that was open enough to Canto to tell him it was Arwen. Which, given the current proximity of the two minds, meant the other one had to be Pavel.

The final proximate mind was Psy and locked against intrusion in a way that sang “anchor” to him.

Payal.

No response to his attempt at telepathic contact, though when he checked in the Substrate, he found her zone calm and controlled. So was the rest of the Net. The situation had been contained.

Not bothering to throw water on his face or pull a pair of sweatpants over his boxer briefs, he got in his chair and made his way to her. He couldn’t see Pavel and Arwen, which meant they were probably downstairs. Pavel’s keen hearing would’ve caught his movements—if the two younger men were smart, they’d fade discreetly away.

He found Payal asleep on his couch. Her breathing was even and she seemed to be in a genuine resting state. His fingers flexed, wanting to touch, but he wouldn’t steal touch. Not from Payal, this woman who was so careful about intimacy of any kind.

Heading to the elevator, he made it downstairs just in time to catch sight of a laughing Pavel tugging Arwen into the trees in the distance. Canto’s cousin wasn’t exactly fighting, and the fact he was wearing a suit in the early-morning fog told Canto he must’ve kept Pavel company overnight.

Tell your bear thanks, Canto telepathed.

He’s not my bear, Arwen replied utterly unconvincingly. But he says you’re welcome. Does Grandmother know about Payal?

Canto didn’t answer to anyone but Ena, but he couldn’t ignore the open concern in Arwen’s tone. Empath. Always caring so much, always trying to make sure the family was happy. Yes. So you can stop worrying, little old man. A childhood nickname given in affection.

Payal … you’ll be careful? She’s ruthless.

So is Grandmother.

That made Arwen go quiet for several long seconds. When he did reply, he sounded peeved. I made the mistake of telling Pasha what you said, and he’s rolling around on the forest floor laughing so hard he can’t talk.

Canto understood the bear’s amusement. The men in our family don’t go for weak, Arwen. Have you not figured that out? Especially since he was tangled up with a bear lieutenant.

But she’s like a razor-sharp knife at the throat. A bit extreme.

Go ask Valentin about Silver Fucking Mercant.Those were the exact words the bear alpha had been known to yell in pride about his mate.

You’re grumpy when you wake up, Arwen muttered. I’m going to go find some cold water to throw on Pasha.

Meanwhile, Canto sat there and realized he’d just talked about Mercant men and the lovers they fell for; yeah, he’d gone well past friendship based on his and Payal’s shared past. But as with Arwen and his laughing bear, this would not be a fast courtship.

Courtship.

More bear influence.

Psy didn’t court each other.

But Valentin had courted Silver and won her. Pavel was courting Arwen with what appeared to be slow but joyous success. Psy could be courted. The question was, Did Canto know how to do it?

“I’m very good at research,” he muttered to himself, and went back upstairs to get cleaned up.

After drying off following his shower, he put on a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded olive green tee that hugged his biceps—he’d seen Payal’s eyes go to his arms more than once, and the first rule of Mercant life was to use every advantage. His jaw was stubbled, but Payal didn’t seem to mind that, so he left it, and his hair was short enough to require nothing but a quick comb with his fingers.

He didn’t bother with socks or shoes.

Ready, he hit the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He was just finishing it off when he heard stirring in the lounge. “Payal,” he said out loud as he wheeled himself to her.

She was sitting with her hair tumbled around her face, her black pants and silky green top mussed. Her eyes were hazy, her lips plump and relaxed. “Canto?”

“Hello, sleepy.” He fought the urge to go over, cuddle her warm, sleep-dazed body against his.

A flare of her eyes, her body leaning toward his … then she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Her muscles lost their softness, her features no longer open.

Canto shoved aside his frustration, killed his anger dead. No fucking way would he ever lash out at Payal for doing what she needed to do to survive. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she admitted, one hand on her stomach. “And I need to fix my hair.”

“Guest bathroom’s that way. There’s stuff in there you can use. Brushes and things.”

PAYALwas still a little drugged from her deep sleep, so it took her a few minutes to notice that all of the makeup in the basket of “stuff” for guests was designed for her skin tone. Not her preferred brands, as there was no way Canto could’ve known those—but he’d done the research to find the things she needed to feel whole.

Feel as if her armor weren’t cracked.

She opened a new brush and used it to comb out her hair, then pulled it back into a tight ponytail. Next, she fixed her face and rearranged her clothing so it didn’t look so much like she’d slept in it.

When she glanced in the mirror again, she looked like the Payal Rao people saw in the media. Except for one thing. She hadn’t been wearing shoes when she teleported in, and now her feet felt naked.

Canto was just coming in from the deck. “I put the food out on the deck table.”

His feet were bare, too, his toenails squared and his skin tanned enough to tell her he sat in the sun without shoes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice husky.

“Hey, you’ll get frozen feet. Let me grab you a pair of socks.”

Her chest felt as if it were compressing on itself. “What about you?” she managed to say as he disappeared into the bedroom.

“I’m used to the colder temps here—and, after all these years, I’ve got a good handle on how to regulate my lower body temperature. You’re at hothouse heat in Delhi right now.” He emerged with a pair of black socks.

They were too big for her feet and warm, and she was going to steal them so she’d have a piece of Canto with her in Vara. Her stomach clenched. She should go there now, away from this man who made the mad girl inside her agitate to be free. But she took her socked feet out into the pale gray of early morning and onto the wooden boards of the deck.

Then she sat with Canto and, as the sun rose in a glory of washed gold, ate with no concern of poison.

It scared her, just how safe she felt with him, causing tremors that cracked her shields and threatened to set her madness free. Her fingers ached to make contact with his skin, her eyes going over and over to the musculature of his arms, the strong tendons of his neck, the damp strands of his hair … the mobile firmness of his mouth.

Pain stabbed behind her left eye even as she struggled with her need. She was an expert at hiding such attacks, but Canto’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter?” He reached out a hand.

Despite the terrible danger of it, she leaned into the touch. The rough pads of his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Migraine.”

“That’s the second one in the past few days.” Scowl dark, Canto brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone.

Payal jerked away. Not because it felt bad. But because it didn’t. She wanted to crawl into his lap, take off his tee, bare her own body, and rub skin against skin.

It was a red warning sign.

And still, she stayed.

Canto continued to scowl. “Have you had scans to make sure it’s not due to a recurrence of your childhood tumor?”

All at once, she’d had enough of secrets with her 7J. If she couldn’t trust Canto, then she was so badly broken that she could have no hope of a life beyond mere robotic existence.

It would mean her father and brother had succeeded in breaking her.

No.

“I have small tumors the surgeons were never able to remove—they’re in a location that can’t be excised without the risk of significant and irreparable damage to my mental capacity and possible physical function.”

A muscle ticked in Canto’s jaw. “Are they growing?”

“No. A type of chemotherapy keeps it in check.” Her pulse beat in her mouth, her skin too hot, then too cold. “Unfortunately, the ‘recipe’ was created by a chemist hired by my father. That chemist then conveniently died. I’ve attempted to have other chemists reverse engineer it without success.”

“He’s using it as a leash, isn’t he?” Canto’s voice was an unsheathed blade. “That’s why we sense Pranath Rao’s stamp on many of your family’s actions, though you’re the CEO.”

“Don’t use this knowledge against me, Canto.” It was the first time she could remember asking someone not to hurt her.

Canto moved quickly, shifting his chair so that he was right next to her. Reaching out, he cupped the back of her neck when she didn’t make any move to stop him. “Understand this, Payal. I will protect you always. Never will I hurt you.”

No one had ever before cared if she was hurt or used. It was too much … almost. “I have to go,” she whispered, but didn’t wrench away. “It’s time for a dose.”

Eyes full of constellations shifted to pure darkness. “How long between doses?”

“It should last seven days, but things can be accelerated by power usage—and we’ve had to deal with two major incidents.” She’d used too much psychic energy in too close a time frame.

“Can you get me a sample?”

“I’ve hired the best of the best in the world.”

“You haven’t hired everyone.” His fingers tightened on her nape, the heat of his skin a rough warmth. “Give me the chance to try to set you free.”

The offer froze her blood, then shattered it, tiny shards ricocheting around her bloodstream and smashing into her already fragmented shields. Making a sharp, pained sound, she gave in to clawing need and pressed her lips to his, her hands on the wall of his chest.

She didn’t know how to kiss, but the contact, the way his hands came immediately to cup her face, it was everything. So many years of loneliness inside her, so much need. I’ll overwhelm you, she warned. I’ll take and take and take.

Take as much as you want.His hand wrapping itself in her ponytail, the taste of him turning her hunger into an addiction. I’ll always have more for you.

Madness sparking like electricity in her veins, she broke the contact as fast as she’d made it. “Please don’t forget me, Canto.” Words torn out of her. To ask someone to care for her enough to remember her, it was the hardest thing she’d ever asked of anyone. If Canto forgot her … she’d break.

She teleported out before he could answer.