by Lora Leigh
twelve years before, and many believed they were dead.
Of the two Breeds, they knew one was alive and killing his way through the lab techs and scientists who had run the secret experimental labs of the pharmaceutical company Brandenmore Research.
“I don’t think they’ll make a move.” Jonas smiled. “Unjam the transmission, let’s track it back to her friends when it reactivates and see what they know.”
Stygian’s brows arched. “They could have abandoned the link once it was jammed. That seems to be normal procedure.”
“But we also blocked the locator tags,” Jonas pointed out. “If she were important to you, what would you do?”
Clenching his jaw, Stygian knew exactly what he would have done, whether she was important or not. She was a woman and part of a mission. There wasn’t a true Breed alive who would have walked away.
A true Breed was one whose sense of loyalty and honor was greater than those of the Council Breeds, whose honor was closer to those of human criminals.
Which was exactly where most of the genetics of those particular Breeds—Honor Roberts, Fawn Corrigan and the Bengals Judd and Gideon—had come from. “I’m a Breed,” Stygian finally stated after considering Jonas’s question of the choice he would make. “Her shadows are human. They’re wild cards.”
Council Coyotes were more human than Breed, more mercenary and merciless than loyal.
Council-loyal Breeds weren’t known as the most fastidious or the most reliable. They were a boil on the ass of the Breed communities and avoided at all costs.
Or until the Council sent them out. In that case, any and every Breed associated with the Breed communities jumped between them and their goal.
This time, Stygian was certain the Council’s goal was the same as the Breeds’: the search for the four victims once held by the pharmaceutical giant Phillip Brandenmore in a secret genetic and medical experimental lab.
“Wild cards or not, they’re protecting someone,” Jonas disagreed. “They’re not imprisoning or attempting to apprehend or control. They’re shadowing, and they’re protective. That’s the difference.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Stygian glared down at the director. There were times when Jonas seemed amazingly naïve when it came to humans, which was surprising considering the Breed’s stone-cold manipulation tactics.
Jonas smiled back at him. “Review the vids the enforcers have made of her shadows,” he suggested. “That’s what they are, literally, and she knows they’re there. She communicates with them often through that damned ear link and she has affection for whoever’s on the other side of that transmission.”
“I’ve watched the vids,” Stygian growled.
He hated to admit it, but Jonas just might be right.
“You’re a hell of a commander, Stygian,” Jonas stated then. “But the lone Wolf thing you like to do hasn’t helped you to understand humans.”
“Who wants to?” Humans weren’t exactly his preferred type of company.
Coming into the Bureau hadn’t been easy for him, but once his team had begun mating and settling down, Stygian had found himself at a crossroads. The paths he had been offered weren’t exactly ones he would have preferred.
Train a new team, or take the position Jonas offered and command a team already trained and needing only a commander willing to guide them? They were Breeds he had known, Breeds he’d fought with on at least one occasion, and Breeds he trusted. But nothing was the same as the team you’d fought with, gotten to know and could count on no matter the situation.
“You need to understand them,” Jonas warned him as Amber moved, a childish little mumble of displeasure sounding from her pouty lips.
Stygian’s gaze jerked to the little girl. She wasn’t emanating any pain, but something was distressing her.
Jonas continued to rub her fragile back, his gaze locked on the little face that came into view when she shifted position and stretched out against his chest. Her head lay in the crook of his arm before she finished maneuvering for the position she was after.
The smile that quirked the director’s lips was damned surprising.
Pure tenderness.
“This meeting is over,” Jonas stated firmly though softly. “Go back to her, keep her occupied. Once the link reactivates, I’ll meet with her. Let’s see what happens when her friends learn what we’re really searching for.”
“Is that a good idea?” Stygian had never been one to give the suspected enemy any information at all.
“She’s going to tell them anyway,” Jonas reminded him. “This way, we can track the transmission to the source and identify her shadows. That could help us figure out why they’re tailing her and why she’s working with them.”
“Have you considered they could simply be friends who are worried about her? Friends with the same paranoia and resources that you have?” Jonas’s mate and wife, Rachel Broen-Wyatt, stepped across the open door frame that led to the suite’s bedroom.
Leaning against the wood frame, one hand tucked into the pocket of her jeans, the other propped on a slender hip, love suffused her expression as her gaze settled on the man and child across the room.
No Breed could ever doubt the pure, soul-deep love that existed between the couple. The room was suddenly scented with the power of it. Sensual, yet pure, innocent and yet erotic, the emotions that swept between the two were almost too intimate for Stygian’s comfort.
“Hello, Stygian.” Rachel straightened from her position and moved slowly into the room. “I see you’re once again enmeshed in one of Jonas’s schemes.” Pure pride enveloped her despite the teasing tone of her voice.
“So it would seem,” he agreed, suddenly uncertain what to do with himself.
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his mission pants, he waited impatiently as she crossed the room to her husband, then bent to him.
Her hair cascaded over her face, hiding the greeting kiss as Jonas’s hand lifted, his fingers spreading to cup her cheek and neck.
That scent; Stygian had learned to associate it with the deepest emotions shared between mates. What Jonas and Rachel shared was as deep as that of couples mated for a decade, though.
It was rare to sense such depths of emotion after only a few years.
The kiss lasted only seconds. A true greeting kiss, but the impact of the dedication between the two sent a chill racing up Stygian’s spine.
Without one, the other would cease to exist, he thought, and such realization would be terrifying for the babe cradled between the two, should it ever happen.
Then, as the mother drew back and her attention joined Jonas’s on the child, he felt a chill of foreboding tearing through him.
Amber had awakened, and suddenly what had been shared love between two became a circle of pure emotion.
There was nothing sensual or erotic in this. It went beyond soul deep though, and for the first time Stygian could sense the enormity of what Jonas was facing if he lost the battle for the little girl’s life.
“Momma, Da sings.” Amber lay back in Jonas’s arms and clearly told a secret Jonas would have preferred she kept to herself. “Da sings purty, Momma.”
Rachel’s laughter was filled with love as she straightened and stared down at her mate. “Da sings, does he?” she asked the little girl. “What does Da sing, Amber?”
“Uh, Rachel—” There was a definite thread of amusement in Jonas’s tone.
“Da sing bad cotie go bye-bye.” Amber laughed, obviously aware she was telling a great secret. “Ba’ cotie go bye-bye, boom boom,” she suddenly sang as Jonas fought to hold back his laughter and Rachel turned a look of mock anger on him.
“Jonas, shame on you,” she chastised him, though her tone lacked anger. “I thought we were teaching Amber to be compassionate and kind?”
“To be fair, it’s called putting them out of their misery.” Jonas laughed, handing the little girl over to her petite mother. “Snitch,” he accused the little girl,
but his smile and tone of voice was anything but chastising.
“Da called me ‘itch, Momma,” Amber gave a mock little pout, though her blue eyes were gleaming with childish laughter as her arms wrapped around her mother’s neck as she turned back to her da. “Don’ call me ’itch, Da.” She wagged a little finger at him, obviously mimicking his actions.
Jonas chuckled at the childish order before moving to his feet and stealing a kiss from the girl’s cheek. “Then don’t snitch on Da,” he warned her, the laughter in his voice another surprise.
Stygian would be damned if he could ever remember seeing laughter in Jonas’s gaze, let alone hearing it in his voice.
“Come on, snitch, let’s get you bathed and dressed for dinner. Do you think you and your da could refrain from the food fight tonight? Those carrots were not easy for Erin to clean…”
She continued into the other room as her voice trailed off and Amber’s laughter became indistinct, leaving Stygian to miss it more than he was willing to admit.
That moment of tenderness, of family intimacy was nearly more than Stygian could bear. And in that moment, the young woman waiting in the other room jumped into his mind.
Skin like the softest silk; eyes the sweetest, softest gray; and a body that would tempt a monk. Full breasts confined beneath the sports bra, gently rounded hips and toned thighs. Lips with the slightest sensual pout and a temper that would test even the most patient Breed.
Being next to her in the Dragoon had tested not just his patience, but also his self-control. He had wanted nothing more than to taste those sweet lips before moving on to certain other body parts.
“Control your lust, Wolf, or I’ll start thinking she’s your mate,” Jonas murmured, amused.
Stygian frowned back at him. “Hell, a Breed can’t even get horny anymore without being accused of mating.”
Jonas’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile. “True, Wolf. Very true.” Then he nodded to the monitors. “Go on out there, distract her a bit. Once the link reactivates, I’ll join the rest of you. Have the others keep their distance from her in case the skin tags she’s wearing are programmed to shut everything down once Breed body heat has been detected.”
Breeds had a body temperature that ran a degree or two higher than humans and made some electronics much easier to shut down if they were programmed correctly.
Stygian nodded, turned and headed back to the sitting room where the young woman waited.
And he started praying—
Praying she wasn’t his mate. Praying she was his mate.
And praying he could keep her alive.
CHAPTER 2
Waiting wasn’t high on her list of things she enjoyed, Liza admitted as she was forced to wait for Jonas Wyatt.
And waiting nearly an hour before coming face-to-face with none other than the big bad director of Breed Affairs himself didn’t help.
Not that she hadn’t met him before.
She had.
Just never quite like this.
And definitely not with what appeared to be the Alphas of the Wolf and Coyote packs as well as Callan Lyons, leader of the Feline Prides and acknowledged spokesperson of the Breed communities, entering behind him along with more than a half dozen other Breeds.
The room suddenly seemed way too small; the air around her too thick and heavy with male testosterone and dominant power.
“Miss Johnson,” Jonas greeted her cordially as she rose from her seat and Jonas stepped in front of her. “We need your help.”
Liza’s jaw tightened furiously as she came to her feet. “You need more than my help and you’re sure as hell going to need a few good lawyers.”
She really wasn’t happy over this. And if Cullen and Reever’s comments were any indication, then they were furious. The team of Coyote soldiers that had actually been following Liza had managed to completely disappear.
Reever had already threatened to have several of the men in the room neutered. Jonas was threatening to castrate them himself.
“We just saved your life,” Jonas stated, as though that were a boon she owed him.
She didn’t think so.
“Your people just endangered it,” she snapped. “Let me tell you now—” She was suddenly distracted by Jonas’s hand slicing quickly into the air as Diane Broen, Lawe Justice and Rule Breaker each made a quick, silencing move themselves.
They had been searching the room as she and Jonas squared off, and were now lifting what appeared to be small electronic devices from several points in the luxurious sitting room.
Listening devices.
The room had been bugged.
Jonas stared at the device Diane handed him, his expression slowly tightening into sharp, icy lines.
Someone had managed to bug his suite. They had invaded his mate and child’s safety and security.
The signal had piggybacked on their own wireless devices and betrayed them.
And Jonas had no idea how long it had been in his rooms.
Or if there were more, let alone how Gideon Cross had actually managed to get them in there.
Fucking Bengal bastard! He was like a ghost haunting every area of Jonas’s life now.
Turning to Lawe, he lifted his hand and gave a slow circle with his index finger, indicating a full-suite electronic blackout, white noise as well as jamming technology.
It would unfortunately block the transmission between Ms. Johnson and her protectors, but his family’s security outweighed any possible manipulation of the Bengal Breed.
Gideon Cross had just upped the ante.
Jonas turned then and stared back at Liza Johnson and in the scent of her fear, learned something more.
His sense of smell was rated off the charts. He was believed to be one of the strongest sensory Breeds to have been created.
If there was a stronger Breed, then they weren’t revealing it.
And what he scented in this woman’s very DNA had him smiling slowly.
The game was just beginning.
It wouldn’t be easy, and it would skirt damned close to breaking his own personal rules, but he had to do what had to be done.
Not just for the two young women and two Bengal Breeds affected by the serum that monster Brandenmore had created, but for Jonas’s daughter as well.
For that sweet bit of innocence his mate had given birth to and had given into his keeping as his own.
For Amber, he had to make this work.
Liza watched a smile cross the Breed’s lips and the way those liquid mercury eyes seemed to brighten with anticipation.
He looked like a predator that had finally found its prey.
A shiver of dread raced up her spine and clenched her stomach with impending panic.
“As I said, we need your help,” he repeated, the icy, merciless smile snapping at the panic rising inside her. “And in return, we’ll ensure you’re protected from the men determined to abduct you.”
If they’d left her alone to begin with, she might have known who the hell those men were.
She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared back at the room filled with Breeds. She didn’t miss the fact that Stygian had moved closer to her, his stance protective.
Evidently Jonas was noticing it as well if the slash of his eyes in Stygian’s direction was any indication.
Turning back to the arrogant director, determined to hide her interest in a Breed she wanted nothing to do with, Liza directed her attention to Jonas.
“From what I’ve seen, Director Wyatt, it’s all you can do to protect yourselves,” she suggested coolly. “What would make me believe you could do anything to protect me?”
His lips quirked with a hint of amusement, though his gaze flashed dangerously.
“We’ve done quite well, I believe,” he drawled. “We didn’t lose any of our men and managed to capture all that weren’t killed of those attacking us as well as you. Those are rather good odds, if you ask me.”
Great. That meant there was
no one left for Cullen and Reever to question.
“But they keep attacking the Breeds,” she pointed out. “And the odds aren’t always so great, Director. I do listen to the news fairly often.”
“If you listen to the news, then you should be aware of the fact that not only Breeds are at risk from the Genetics Council and their loyalists,” he told her. “They do target others on occasion.”
“Unfairly so,” she agreed. “But they wouldn’t have attacked me if it hadn’t been for her.”
She nodded to Diane Broen, the human enforcer who worked for the Bureau of Breed Affairs. “She was the one they came for, not me.”
She knew better. He knew better. But she was supposed to be unaware of the fact that she had been targeted? Keeping that impression would be preferable.
“And there is where you’re wrong.” He smirked back at her, and Liza found herself gritting her teeth in return. So much for hoping she could appear to remain in the dark. “Diane just happened to have been there to distract their attention for a moment, nothing more. It was you they were after.”
He seemed entirely too satisfied to relay that information.
Once again, Liza let her attention stray to Stygian as he stood several feet to her side. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, the black enforcer uniform and heavy boots, his long black hair tied back at his nape, he could have been a warrior from more than two centuries before.
There was something about his stance, the straight shoulders, the ready preparedness in his muscular body. He wasn’t a Breed who would be easy to catch unaware.
“They have no reason to be after me,” she retorted as she forced herself to face the director once again.
Jonas was known as a master manipulator. Even his own enforcers were known to curse him to the pits of hell for his machinations.
“You wouldn’t think so,” he agreed. “I have to admit I can see no reason why they would target you. But the fact is, they have.”
Narrowing her eyes, Liza kept her arms crossed over her breasts as she wished she had worn a light jacket. Something, anything she could have pushed her hands into, could have found a way to hide some part of herself.
“Then we’re in agreement that I’m not their target.” She shrugged as she fought the need to disappear. “Does that mean I can leave now?”
She was suddenly all too aware of the scantiness of her running pants and top. Her midriff was left bare, her legs growing cold in the air-conditioned chill of the room. As Stygian’s gaze flickered to the exposed flesh of her midriff, it suddenly heated, warming as though it were his hands touching her rather than just his gaze.
She did flush then.
Damn it.
Because her face and neck weren’t the only parts of her body flushing and heating.
Her nipples were hardening, her clit becoming sensitive, moisture gathering between her thighs.
Her response to him wasn’t just shocking, it was frightening.
And she wanted no part of it.
“I said I couldn’t see the reason why, not that you weren’t being targeted,” he pointed out as though speaking to a child and patronizing her for her stupidity.
“I’m certain I don’t know why they would target me either,” she assured the director. “What I do know is that I’m not in the mood for the third-degree here. You guys have done nothing but cause trouble since you arrived. First Isabelle was kidnapped and nearly turned over to those deranged Coyotes Holden was trying to take her to, a friend is nearly murdered in front of her and now I’m being accosted during my morning run no more than weeks later. What’s next with the lot of you?”
With each accusation, Jonas’s expression turned stonier while Stygian eyed her with greater intensity.
“Your abduction could be next.”
Liza followed Jonas with her gaze as he moved to the long table against the wall.
“Let me show you something,” he suggested. Turning, he indicated that she should follow him.
Liza’s gaze shifted to Stygian before she turned and moved carefully to the table.
She had a feeling she didn’t want to see what the director was pulling from the files stacked there.
Stepping to his side, she stared down at the photos he was setting out on the table.
The eight-by-ten glossy photos were of a very ill child, her little head bare of hair, blue eyes filled with sorrow.
She was pale, obviously in pain, and stared into the camera with a sense of resignation.
Her heart beat faster, her throat felt tight with dread. She tried to tell herself, to convince herself it was because of a child’s pain seen so clearly in those frightened, worn blue eyes.
But that didn’t explain the flash of some long-forgotten sensation attacking her arm. The feel of phantom needles inserted into an arm so thin, already so bruised and abused, sent a shock wave of horror traveling through her so quickly that before she could react, it was gone.
What was that? It couldn’t be a memory, because Liza knew she hadn’t ever been so ill as a child.
The next photo was one of another young girl, though her illness wasn’t as apparent. Dark brown eyes and hair lay around her pale face. Her lips were cracked and dry, her gaze distant as though she were forcing herself to see beyond the camera.
She was living, but she wasn’t really with them. They were desperate to pull her back. What if she never came back? What if she went away inside herself and never returned to them? All the planning, all the deception and the lies would have been f