Caressed By Ice by Nalini Singh

jacket. The scent of him, powerful and intrinsically masculine, was intoxicating to her changeling senses, but she no longer wanted to be surrounded by it. “You think I’m losing my mind?” It was her secret fear, the monster under the bed, the cold chill down her spine.
    â€œPsy don’t dance around the facts. I meant exactly what I said.”
    God, but he sounded arrogant. “That’s a load of bull.” She scowled. “Your Council has double-talk down to a fine art.”
    Dark eyes with snow reflected in their depths turned to her. “They are not my Council and I am not their puppet.” Icy enough to flay off her skin.
    She winced. “Mental degradation? If that doesn’t mean madness…”
    â€œEnrique may have damaged parts of your organic brain tissue while running his psychic experiments, caused lesions or bruises.” He watched her with the unblinking stare of a predator, as if gauging her strength. “He was a Tk and the use of telekinetic powers almost always has a physical effect. The autopsies of his other victims revealed them to have suffered major brain injuries.”
    Pictures. The butcher had shown her pictures of the others. “I remember.”
    â€œHowever, the likelihood of such damage is minimal. Sascha and Lara made sure to repair all organic tears before they began healing things on any other level.”
    Brenna bit her lower lip and took a deep, shaky breath. “Sascha said that that part should’ve taken longer, but that I was so determined to have my mind back, it was as if I willed the broken parts to heal.” Almost as if she were Psy. “Maybe I rushed her.”
    â€œI called her after you spoke to me,” he said, continuing to watch her with that hunter’s gaze. “You did rush her, but not in the physical healing.”
    She wanted to smack him for his presumption, despite the fact that she’d asked for his help. “None of that changes the fact that Sascha doesn’t have experience with this kind of thing.” And the empath, who had the ability to sense and heal the darkest of emotional wounds, had already seen her broken and bloody too many times. No matter her kindness, Sascha reminded Brenna of things she’d rather forget.
    â€œNo. But Faith does.” Judd folded his arms. “You need to talk to someone.”
    â€œI’m talking to you.” Why, she couldn’t rationally explain. He was cold and merciless, had all the charm of a feral wolf.
    â€œI’ll set up the meeting with Faith.”
    She gritted her teeth. “I’ll do it. Vaughn doesn’t like you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She’d met both Faith and her mate, Vaughn, when the foreseer had come up to the den to accept a gift made for her by the nursery children, children who were alive because of a vision Faith had had. Without her warning, they would’ve lost several pups. “Not that you go out of your way to be friendly.”
    â€œThat’s irrelevant.” Turning away, he looked out over the frozen vista. “Emotion is not one of my weaknesses.”
    Â 
    Faith had just ended a short but disturbing conversation with Brenna Kincaid when Anthony Kyriakus, head of the NightStar Group—and her father—walked into the meeting room. Putting the phone in her pocket, she leaned into Vaughn, waiting for Anthony to speak.
    â€œThere’s a Ghost in the Net.” He circled to stand on the other side of the table.
    It wasn’t what she had wanted to hear, the child in her still hungry for things she knew Anthony might never be able to give her. Hurt was a dull ache in her body. Then Vaughn closed a hand over her nape and the sadness passed—she was loved, cherished, adored. “A ghost?” She sat and the men followed.
    â€œNo one knows the identity of this individual, but he or she is being credited with a number of insurgent