Primal Mirror

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Advanced Excerpt #1

Remi launched another attack.

Finn kicked forest floor debris right up into his face before spraying him with a disgusting smelling spray that he’d pulled from his back jeans pocket. Because with Finn, they often trained as if he’d been attacked while at work in the infirmary. Today, that meant jeans and an old blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

And the foul spray.

Damn, that was rank.

“What the hell?” Remi choked on the stink, his forearm raised to his face in a vain attempt at blocking it.

Finn backed off, coughing—while somehow grinning at the same time, his leopard a glow in the green of his eyes. “You and Angel both told me to play to my strengths. Lots of toxic stuff to throw and spray in an infirmary. Don’t worry, this one is just stinky.”

Healers. Smart and smartasses with it.

His leopard proud even as it wanted to bring down curses on Finn’s smart head, Remi held up his hands. “I surrender. Let’s get the hell away before that stench sinks into our skin.”

A smug Finn put away his concoction and did a graceful bow. “I accept your defeat.” His face broke out into another huge grin as he rose up from the bow. “I also plan to tell everyone.”

Remi growled without any real threat in it; it was good to see Finn happy.

Copyright © 2024 by Nalini Singh

Advanced Excerpt #2

Auden Scott? Nightmare of a problem that technically had nothing to do with him—and that would gnaw at him every second she was in his vicinity.

So of course he reached their border to discover her holding a deadly little gun all wrong while facing a homemade target—a piece of card stuck to a big stick that she’d poked into the ground. On the card was a wonky hand-drawn bullseye.

Then she shot and it went so wide of the mark that it wasn’t even in the same galaxy.

His leopard hung its head in reflected shame.

Groaning, Remi deliberately made a lot of noise as he walked out, so that she wouldn’t shoot him by accident—though her chances of hitting him were so low as to be miniscule. When she swung around with the gun pointed, he held up his own hands. “I mean, you have a point one percent chance of actually hitting me, but don’t shoot.”

A glare.

Yes, a definite glare, before she smoothed it over with the ice-coated exterior of Silent perfection she’d shown him yesterday. His heart kicked anyway, his leopard on the hunt.

There you are, the cat purred.

“I apologize.” She lowered the weapon and the movement disturbed the air currents, sending more of her luscious scent in his direction. “I didn’t intend to convey aggression . . . but you did sneak up on me.”

His body stirred in a way unexpected, as drawn to this Auden as he had been disturbed by the woman he’d first met. “I made enough noise for a herd of drunk bears.”

This time, she looked like she really wanted to shoot him.

Amused, he nodded at her target before she could give in to her rage. “Let me guess—your first time with a laser weapon?”

A pause and he knew her training was telling her to lie—according to what he’d picked up from hanging out with Arrows, powerful Psy were taught to cover any and all vulnerabilities. Or they had been under Silence. Who knew how long it would take for that to change, or if it ever would. A century of indoctrination wasn’t exactly easy to shrug off.

Auden finally seemed to realize there was no point in lying when he’d witnessed her stumbling attempted shot. “Yes,” she said at last. “It’s probably not safe for you to be close by.” A grudging warning.

His cat, contrary feline that it was, liked her better for being aggravated by his teasing. “I can’t leave you here with that.” He sighed to further nudge up her anger, to better see her. “I’ll lose my mind worrying that you’d lasered off your foot or blasted your cheekbone.”

Her eyes went black.

Remi stayed relaxed, his hands on his hips—he’d seen other Psy eyes do that when in the grip of great power—or great emotion.

Auden Scott was becoming more fascinating with every second that passed.

Copyright © 2024 by Nalini Singh

Advanced Excerpt #3

Abstract: An argument in favor of why Psychometry should be moved in the Psy power charts to sit next to Foresight and the sub-category of BackSight. F-Psy see the future, while those with backsight see the past. Ps-Psy also see the past—the only difference is that their visions of the past are anchored to an object.

—Psychometry and its Placement on Psy Power Charts by Faith NightStar and Tanique Gray, paper submitted to the Académie de la classification des Psi run under the aegis of the Ruling Coalition, June 2083

Auden found herself tracing Remi’s profile with her gaze as he took the time to think over her words.

“That’s why you only pick up snatches, images, or pieces.”

It made her wonder all over again what she’d read on his comm device. “Yes.” But then she told him more, because her defenses were down and any other motivations aside, he did care in at least an impersonal way.

“We can pick up more coherent things—that’s what the academic psychometrics do, but it requires intense focus and energy. It’s too difficult with emotion-touched objects. The resonance is too strong, starts to overwhelm the psychometric.

“Crispin called it terminal velocity in his book, the point at which the psychometric isn’t able to turn back, get themselves out of the nightmare.”

Remi’s eyebrows drew together over his eyes. “Have you—”

“Only once—and I was so scared that I broke away before terminal velocity.” It had left her a trembling, sweat-soaked wreck regardless. “A mistake in childhood. An object picked up off the ground at my small private school that had been dropped by a teacher who should never have been in charge of children.”

Remi’s growl made her nape prickle.

“My father was . . . not a good man,” she said, speaking the words aloud for the first time. “But he did a good thing then. He believed me. And that teacher vanished.” Swallowing, she met his gaze. “Do you judge me for not caring about what happened to him?”

“No. I’m changeling. If you’re implying what I think you’re implying about the teacher, then our sentence is death at the claws of the alpha. No mercy. No forgiveness. Not for violating the trust of the smallest and most vulnerable of us all.”

Auden’s shoulders softened.

His jaw yet a brutal line, Remi’s eyes went to her empty glass. “How about it?” He nodded at the cooler. “You want to try the food I brought?”

Her stomach rumbled right on cue.

“I think your cub is saying yes.” His grin creased his cheeks, eased up the grim line of his jaw.

Her stomach flipped.

She was still struggling with the reaction when he opened the lid to show her the goods within, his eyes bright with a feline wildness.

Right then, she understood what humans and changelings meant when they said a person’s smile reached their eyes. It was a warmth that couldn’t be faked, a sense that this being was glowing from the inside out.

“Auden?”

Flushing, she jerked her gaze away from his face and to the cooler.

Remi didn’t rush her as she stared down at two items she recognized as muffins from seeing them on the comm, a swirling pastry that might’ve been a cinnamon roll, and what looked like a croissant. Then there was a sealed packet of cookies, a clear container of mixed berries, and a block of chocolate.

“I wasn’t sure how into food you were, so I kept it simple. The cinnamon roll is probably the one with the strongest flavor.”

Hungry in a way she hadn’t ever been before her pregnancy, Auden felt as if she could devour it all, but limited herself to trying the croissant for now. It was still warm. What she’d assumed was a cooler, she realized, was actually a carrier designed to keep food at the temperature it was when put inside.

Having placed her empty glass on the ground, she now took a large bite of the croissant . . . and made a startled sound as flakes of pastry drifted down around her. It was no doubt all over her face too.

But she didn’t care.

“This is delicious.” Forgetting every bit of manners she’d ever been taught, she took several more bites in quick succession . . . then looked sadly at her empty hand.

Instead of laughing at her, Remi’s cheeks creased again with a smile she could almost believe held affection. “I’ll bring more croissants next time.”

Next time.

A galloping horse inside her chest, she decided to try the cinnamon roll, despite his warning that it was the strongest tasting. A single bite and she moaned before licking up the frosting around her mouth.

“You should have some water to wash that down,” Remi said, his voice sounding strangled.

She waved him toward her cabin.

He hesitated. “I’ll have to touch your things.”

“Glass is on the sink. Keep your shoes on. Tap is motion activated.” Then she took another bite of the most delicious item she’d ever tasted. “And I like your imprint. It’s like an enormous comforting purr that wraps around me.” The words spilled out in a haze of sugar and cinnamon.

Remi forced himself to look away from the woman who was so lusciously enjoying food that he’d brought her—and who’d just murmured that he was like a “comforting purr.”

Not the kind of thing he’d ever thought he’d want to hear from a beautiful woman, but yeah, it was a good feeling to know that she felt safe with him. Safe enough to tell him that, and to allow him into her haven.

Woman was food-drugged so he should probably take the entire thing with a grain of salt, but damn if he didn’t want to actually purr. She took another bite, moaned. His cock threatened to react. You’d have thought he was a wolf or a bear with the feral depth of his response. 

Courtship via food wasn’t a cat thing.

Copyright © 2024 by Nalini Singh

“Despite writing such long-standing series, the Psy-Changeling Trinity series feels fresh. The world never stops evolving and the characters are all complex and unique.”