Psy & Changelings 01 - Slave to Sensation

history. They’re happy to sell for the right price.”
    â€œAre you an impartial party?” She took the chance afforded by his concentration on driving to look her fill of the markings on his face. Savage and primitive, they tugged at something hidden inside of her. She couldn’t help thinking that they likely told the true story of his nature, the smooth business persona merely a mask.
    â€œNo. But they’re not going to deal with anyone else so you’ll just have to hope I don’t screw you over.”
    She wasn’t sure whether to take him seriously. “We’re well aware of property values. No one has yet managed to ‘screw’ us.”
    His lips curved. “It’s the best location for what you want. The thought of living in that area gives most changelings wet dreams.”
    Sascha wondered if he was being crude in an effort to rattle her. Had this far too intelligent leopard figured out that she was flawed in the most basic way? Hoping to throw him off the scent, she made her next words completely toneless. “Very colorful, but I don’t care about their dreams. I simply want them to buy the properties.”
    â€œThey will.” Of that Lucas had no doubt. “We’re almost there.” He pulled off the side road they were on and headed down another before parking the car beside a huge open space dotted with trees. Situated near Manteca, the area wasn’t heavily forested but it was definitely wooded.
    He slid open his door and stepped out, frustrated by his inability to penetrate the layer of ice Sascha had wrapped around herself like steel. He’d engineered this drive and site-visit in order to start probing her for information. But getting a Psy to open up was like trying to get a SnowDancer to turn into a leopard.
    The worst part was, he found himself fascinated by everything about his quarry. Like how the rich silk of her hair turned impossibly darker in the sun as she moved to stretch out her legs. Or how her skin gleamed a dark honey. “May I ask you a question?” The hunger came from the panther inside but the man saw the possibilities in this line of questioning.
    Sascha glanced up. “By all means.”
    â€œYour mother’s ancestry is clearly Asiatic but your first names are Slavic and your last, Scottish. I’m curious.” He walked beside her as she started to explore the site.
    â€œThat’s not a question.”
    Lucas narrowed his eyes. He had the feeling she was teasing him but of course the Psy never teased. “How did you end up with such an interesting mixture?” he asked, far from convinced about this Psy.
    To his surprise, she answered without hesitation. “Depending on the family structure, we take the names of either our maternal or paternal line. In our family, the last name has been maternal for the last three generations. However, my great-grandmother, Ai Kumamoto, took her husband’s name. He was Andrew Duncan.”
    â€œShe was Japanese?”
    She nodded. “Their daughter was Reina Duncan, my grandmother. Reina had a child with Dmitri Kukovich and he chose the first name of their child—Nikita. My mother continued that naming tradition, as our psychologists believe a sense of history better enables a child to adapt to society.”
    â€œYour mother looks very Japanese, while you don’t.” Her features were so unique that they defied definition. Nothing about her said she’d been manufactured in the same machine as the rest of the bloodless, robotic Psy.
    â€œThe paternal genes appear to have held sway in my case, while in hers, the maternal ones prevailed.”
    He couldn’t imagine ever speaking of his parents in such a cool fashion. They’d loved him, raised him, and died for him. Their memory deserved to be honored with the most powerful depths of emotion. “And your father? What did he add into the exotic mix?”
    â€œHe was of Anglo-Indian descent.”
    Something in her voice set off the protective instincts of his beast. “He’s not in your life any longer?”
    â€œHe never was.” Sascha continued walking along the pathway, trying not to feel the pain of this oldest of wounds. It was nothing that would ever change. Her father was as Psy as her mother.
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    This time she didn’t tease him about it not being a question. “My mother chose a scientific method