Mine to Possess by Nalini Singh Page A

The simplest and most painful of truths. “The scholarship was one provided by the Shine Foundation.” She looked up to see if he recognized the name.
    â€œHuman backed,” he said. “Financed by donations from a number of wealthy philanthropists.”
    â€œIts aim,” she picked up, “is to support bright but underprivileged children who might never otherwise have a chance to shine. That’s what the brochure says and I guess they really follow it. All the kids I look after are disadvantaged in some way.”
    â€œWhat did you study?”
    She folded her arms. “Child psych and social work.”
    â€œYou hated the social workers.”
    â€œIronic, huh?” She made a rueful face. “I thought I might be able to do a better job. But I never got into the system. I graduated at twenty-one, and was offered a position in the foundation’s street program.”
    He didn’t push her to get to the point, and for that, she was grateful. She had to approach the horror obliquely, wasn’t sure she could survive full-frontal exposure. “We help get kids off the street and into school or training. Devraj—the director—makes sure there’s no corruption, no favoritism.”
    â€œSounds very worthy.” Open cynicism.
    Her hackles rose. “It is! The foundation does so much, helps so many.” He had no right to mock them. “I work with the eleven-to-sixteen age group.”
    â€œTough crowd.”
    â€œTell me about it.” So proud, so unwilling to accept the helping hand she offered. “I get all sorts. Runaways, nice but poor kids, gang members who want out.”
    â€œWhat’s your success rate?”
    â€œAbout seventy percent.” The other thirty, the lost ones, they broke her heart, but she kept going. She couldn’t afford not to or the ones she could help would suffer.
    â€œYou said Mickey was yours.”
    She gave a jerky nod. “So was Diana. She was found this week, around the same time as Iain. He belonged to one of my colleagues in San Francisco. Thirteen and already able to speak seven languages—can you imagine what he might’ve become?”
    â€œThree Shine kids? Interesting coincidence.”
    â€œNot really. The killers and the foundation work in the same pool—marginalized and vulnerable children.”
    He nodded. “True.”
    â€œAnd the other seven Max told me about were scattered across the country. None were Shine scholars.”
    â€œSo there’s no specific connection to San Francisco. Why come here?”
    â€œTo set up Jonquil. He’s fourteen, ex-gang. This was a new start.” Her voice broke.
    Getting up, Clay walked around the table and tugged her to her feet. The simple contact destroyed her center of gravity even as it gave her courage. “Clay.”
    â€œWhat happened to force you to come to me?”
    The turbulence of his renewed anger was a wall between them. “I finally confirmed you really were here two weeks ago but—” No, she thought. Enough. Clay deserved absolute honesty, even if that meant she had to rip open every painful scar. “Jon disappeared.” And all she’d been able to think was that she needed Clay, the same thought she’d had a thousand times before. Except this time, he had been within reach.
    He curved his hand around the side of her neck. “Why are you sure the killers have him? One of your feelings, Tally?”
    A knot in her throat at the way he understood her without words. Nobody else ever had. “Yeah.” Instead of fighting the blatant possessiveness of his touch, she found herself leaning into it, soaking up the heated strength of him. “We had a fight before he ran away. I lost my temper, Clay.” She’d just had another small sign of her medical degeneration, had been so scared she’d run out of time to help that bright, hurt boy. “I took out my