by Lora Leigh
ess?"
Ely's lips thinned. "The files in question are Feline Breed, rather than Wolf, but in many cases, we've been able to cross-reference and find answers for the wolves' medical problems as well, as you very well know. I had no doubt our files wouldn't have the answers to whatever is in question now."
"In this situation, I doubt that's possible," Nikki stated as she turned to Jonas. "I'm aware you have the files on the Montague girl, Storme. As you're aware, her father and brother were based with the Omega lab. That lab was primarily occupied by Wolf Breeds. The pack leader, Navarro," she glanced to the silent Breed, "managed to access and acquire the majority of the files before the scientists could destroy them. We believe the information we've found may shed some light on the anomalies showing up in the blood work on Jonas's adopted daughter, Amber, as well as Phillip Brandenmore's."
Jonas stilled. Tension ratcheted up in the room. Brandenmore was believed dead by the world at large. He wasn't dead. He was confined as he had once confined Breeds, while Jonas searched to find the answers to whatever the bastard had injected his adopted infant child, Amber, with, as well as himself.
Brandenmore was in his seventies, but the physiological tests done on him since his capture showed a man perhaps a decade younger. And whatever had caused that was still working on him. Repairing internal organs, regenerating cells, and destroying his mind.
"Navarro?" Jonas questioned him roughly. "What have you found?"
Navarro leaned forward slowly. "We've been working on a particular file taken from the compound home of Drs. James Robert and James Montague, father and son, who were based at the Omega lab. Those files have several references to a project known as Omega. A reference I believe you found in Brandenmore's personal files." Jonas nodded sharply before Navarro continued. "The information we've uncovered suggests Project Omega dealt with experimentations on two Breeds believed to be in the grip of a syndrome known then as 'mating fever.' There were certain attributes to the syndrome, though, that the scientists focused on, rather than the syndrome itself. One of them was the decrease in cellular and physical aging; another, and I believe Brandenmore must have gained information on this, was whether or not cellular or genetic alterations could be produced using the unknown hormones generated in the mating couple."
Jonas felt the implications of the project as his body began to tighten in rage. Brandenmore was doing as the Bureau of Breed Affairs and the Breed alphas feared. He was trying to create a vaccine or virus that would alter human genetics, using research on Breed mates that had been confined in the labs.
"I thought the Bureau as well as Sanctuary had all files pertaining to those labs. I've seen nothing known as Project Omega," Jonas growled.
"All files that our alpha, Wolfe Gunnar, had possession of, Sanctuary and the Bureau of Breed Affairs have copies of," Dr. Armani amended. "There are several encrypted files from those labs that Navarro and I have been working on that Wolfe hadn't been made aware of, simply because we had no idea what they were."
Navarro wasn't just, as Nikki stated, an elite Enforcer, he was also one of Haven's best code breakers.
Fuck, he didn't need this, Jonas thought, the Breed society in general didn't need this. This could create an outcry against the Breeds that even mating heat wouldn't cause. The ability to "infect" the population and change the most basic makeup of their creation, could begin a quick spiral down to the extermination of Breeds.
Montague was assumed to have wiped all information regarding Project Omega from all Council files. For ten years, Jonas had believed the scientist had been successful, despite the fact that there were rumors the daughter knew something, or had been given information by her father or brother.
If she had that information, then she would have traded it years ago for her own safety, to either the Council Coyotes or the Bureau of Breed Affairs. She wouldn't have run and fought for ten years to hide the very information that would assure her safety.
He turned to Navarro once again. "You were pack leader there. What were the parameters of Project Omega?"
How much did Haven know about a project that should have been destroyed before it ever began? A project Jonas had never truly believed had gone far enough to have attained any answers, let alone live trials.
"The parameters I am uncertain of," Navarro answered, his pronunciation precise and with just the lightest Asian flavor of an accent, compliments of the team of scientists that ran that particular branch of operations in the Omega labs. "I know that the mating fever phenomenon they were studying in another sector of the labs was what we now call mating heat. It was believed to be somehow related to the feral fever. There were several Breeds confined there, but they escaped during the rescues and I have not heard of them revealing themselves since. The search I conducted turned up no rumors of their whereabouts or information concerning them. For all intents and purposes they are most likely dead. Without them, or the rumored data chip that the daughter knows the location of, then there are no true answers concerning the success of their investigation into whether or not such an aging or Breed creation vaccine could be made. I personally do believe they are dead."
Yeah. Right. Jonas knew better than to believe such a thing until he actually saw the bodies himself.
"The files you've unlocked, what was in them?" There were some experiments whose results Jonas prayed were never revealed. Project Omega was one he'd once felt that way about, until now.
"Most of the information was destroyed, and we were unable to retrieve all but a few vague references to the project," Navarro admitted. "I've been unable to retrieve anything of any worth other than the notation that the doctors involved were the Montagues and that there was a suspicion among the scientists that JR, as James Robert Montague was often called, had managed to hide the contents of the destroyed files rather than losing the results forever. This could be why the Council has chased the girl for so many years; they suspect she has that information as well or they could be aware that the Drs. Montague had actually succeeded in some way."
No doubt. Montague, like most scientists with the Council, would risk his life, as well as his children, to protect his project. It made no sense to Jonas. There wasn't a single Breed he would risk to save the contents of such files or experiments, which could so change the course of humanity that, in his eyes, humanity would be irretrievably destroyed.
"We have to have the Montague girl, Jonas." Nikki leaned forward imperatively, her dark gaze intent. "I've asked the other scientists here so they can help me to go over the parts of the files we have retrieved in the hopes that they'll understand some of the formulas ..."
"Retrieving the girl won't be so easy," Navarro stated. "I know the Bureau has been trailing her for years now because of the rumor that she carried vital information. What you didn't know was that I was working with the Montagues while in those labs. JR, the father, told me that if he managed to get any information out, then it would be with Storme. I was to find her immediately after the rescues, if you hadn't already done so." He nodded to Jonas.
Jonas shook his head. "She wasn't at the safe house. She and the vehicle we provided for escape were gone. The GPS tracker we had installed on it had been deactivated."
Navarro nodded. "She's terrified of Breeds, and she hates them for the loyalty her father had to them. For the fact that he and her brother died to protect that information. In her mind her father and her brother chose the Breeds over her."
"And forgiveness doesn't come easily," Jonas sighed. "And we can no longer allow her the convenience of coming to us on her own. Find her, and have her brought in."
Navarro nodded, his lips parting to say more when Jeffrey Amburg came abruptly to his feet.
"Destroy the formulas, and destroy the files. I'm finished here." Amburg's gaze was icy as he stared at those around the table. "Destroy the files and the girl immediately. If the information she's rumored to be carrying ever falls into Council hands, then it has the power to not just d
estroy the Breeds, but also the world." He turned to Jonas, the icy blue of his eyes like shards of pale glass now. "Project Omega is something you never want to resurrect, not for any reason."
Jonas stared back at the scientist. "What is it, Amburg?"
For a second, pure, raw fear flashed in the scientist's eyes. "You don't want to know, Jonas. And trust me, you sure as hell don't want the Council possessing it. Above all other threats against the Breeds, Project Omega could be the most dangerous."
And here Jonas had believed he was beginning a new phase of his life with a measure of peace.
A mated wife, a babe he called his own, and for the past six weeks, life had been, if not peaceful, at least without any major catastrophes.
"What was the project, Amburg?" Even Ely was taking notice now.
Amburg shook his head, his gaze imploring as he stared back at Jonas. "I won't be a part of this. I wouldn't be a part of it then, and I won't be a part of it now. And there's no threat the Breeds could use against me to force it. I'm ready to return to Sanctuary now."
He left the room.
Jonas stared after him thoughtfully, knowing the reasons Amburg cooperated so well with the Breeds. Besides the fact that he lived for Breed research in whatever form he could do it, Jonas also held his granddaughter, Isabella Ross. She was free. She lived, worked, laughed and enjoyed friends, but at all times there was a Breed close by. A Breed who, Jonas had assured Amburg, was more than willing to kill the only human he loved.
Amburg was willing to risk Isabella's life to keep the secret of Project Omega. And the hell of it was, at any other time, Jonas wouldn't have blamed him.
Turning back to Navarro, Jonas hardened his compassion for Amburg, the Montague girl and anyone else who dared get in the way of protecting the child he called his own.
"What do you need?"
Navarro sighed with a grimace. "Her mate would be nice. Because honestly Jonas, short of undying love on her part, I doubt anything but her father's resurrection would convince her to tell us where that data chip is located."
Jonas tilted his head thoughtfully before turning to Dr. Armani. "Did the Breeds confiscate the blood samples being held in the Omega lab?"
Nikki nodded slowly.
"Were there samples of the girl's blood?"
Realization lit the doctor's eyes. "There were. Several vials actually. The scientists there were very thorough."
Rising to his feet, Jonas gave a sharp nod. "Start testing your Enforcers first. Let me know the possibilities and get it done quickly."
"I can help." Ely came to her feet, the compassion, the generosity that he feared absent now; something else sparking in her gaze. "If we're going to do this, let's get it done quickly, before the Council can get a jump on us."
The two scientists met at the head of the table, turned in unison and headed for the exit.
It would begin here.
Jonas turned back to Navarro. "Is she your mate?"
Navarro shook his head. "If she were, she wouldn't be running."
Jonas gave a sharp nod. "Let's find out who the lucky mate is then. And let's bring her in."
"If she has a mate." Navarro didn't rise. "What happens, Jonas, if she has no mate?"
It was a question he hadn't considered. It was one he wouldn't entertain unless he had no choice.
Because no mate meant no hope of resolving this without death. And that was a resolution Jonas refused to entertain.
CHAPTER 1
The bar was hopping, music pounding, drinks flowing smoothly and customers packing the bar area and dance floor. It was one of those country hole-in-the-walls that attracted both criminal elements as well as the upper class and everything in between. It was one of those places Storme could slide into, and her scent became masked by the dozens of sweating, lusty, alcohol-infused bodies that filled it.
It was one of the few ways to hide from paranormal senses and extrasensory capabilities. It was one of the few places Storme had a hope of resting before she had to run again.
And God knew, she was tired. Exhaustion was beginning to swamp her, desperation was clawing at her back, and fear was a companion she hadn't separated from in far too long.
She wanted to rest.
Was there a saying about no rest for the wicked? There was. She must have been wicked in a former life though, because this life had just been spent running.
"Whiskey shot and a beer," she said wearily as the waitress came to the table.
Pulling a few of the precious bills from her pocket, she slid the money to the waitress when she returned.
She tossed back the whiskey, then chased the burn with the icy bitterness of the beer and blew out a slow, deep breath before looking around.
The band was actually pretty good here, the lead singers sultry when they needed to be, hard and filled with desperation when the song called for it.
The smell of cigarette smoke, booze, sweat and lust was so strong it didn't take Breed senses to detect it, Storme Montague decided as she sat in the corner of the room and watched the customers milling through the large area. A human with any sense of smell could detect it.
Moving to the corner of the booth, she hunched into the shadows and watched the crowd, knowing that even here there was danger. She had glimpsed it as she rushed inside and skirted the edge of the room to get as far away from it as possible.
From where she sat she could see the Breeds in the far corner as the crowds shifted and moved between them. There were four, and she knew all of them. Not personally, of course, but Storme knew a lot of Breeds; she'd made it her business to learn who they were, especially when she caught them trailing her.
Navarro Blaine, and this one, she knew well from Omega. He was a Wolf Breed with Asian heritage. He was tall, dusky skinned with the exotic slant of eyes and high, flat cheekbones. Black, brown and a hint of gray filled his hair, though the gray wasn't from age, it was from the gray Wolf genetics he carried. He was dressed a bit more sophisticated than the three he was with. Black silk slacks, leather shoes and a white silk shirt matched with an expensive black leather jacket.
That hair was long, falling nearly to the middle of his back as his black eyes, narrowed and intense, surveyed the room.
This Breed she knew, unfortunately. He had been in Omega while she had been there with her father. If she wasn't mistaken, he had been one of her father's favorite creations. Several times she had heard her brother refer to Navarro with worry and fondness, and several times her father had actually stated that he could have considered the Breed a son.
Her father had a daughter, but this Breed had concerned him far more than his daughter's safety had, and for that, Storme had once hated him with a passion.
Lawe Justice and Rule Breaker were Lion Breeds. Both men were extremely handsome, as all Breeds were, and rumored to be full brothers, perhaps even twins. Shoulder-length black hair was pulled to the napes of both men's necks, while powerful bodies were attired in jeans, boots, T-shirts and denim jackets.
It was the fourth one that seemed the odd Breed out. He sat back casually in his chair, one hand lying on the table, his fingers tapping to the music as he glanced at the dance floor and the women that sauntered by the table to draw the men's attention.
Blue eyes. Ocean blue. She could see those eyes each time she caught a glimpse of his face through the crowd. Long red hair flowed past his shoulders, coarse rather than soft, tied back at his nape as the others' was, though it had the appearance of having been tamed only under protest.
Squared, strong features drew instant female attention, as did the exotic eyes that appeared to be lined with the faintest edge of kohl. High cheekbones, well-molded male lips, broad shoulders, a strong chest and impressive biceps. He was larger and broader than the other men, and looked exactly like what he had been created to be. A Scots warrior. He would have looked at home in a kilt with a sword strapped to his waist.
Leather pants, heavy boots, a white long-sleeved shirt and l
eather riding jacket were the perfect covering for him. They made him look harder, broader, more dangerous.
He was Styx Mackenzie, the one Breed she was seriously growing tired of playing games with. He had been on her ass for more than a year now, off and on, determined to track her down and force her to listen to the proposition the Breed community had for her.
She already knew the details. Protection in exchange for information.
She wanted to laugh at the thought. As though a Breed could ever protect her. They would be more inclined to tear her throat out if she displeased one of them.
A flash of memory, buried so deep that she rarely let herself remember it, had her eyes closing briefly as she fought it back.
Her brother's death. The Breed ripping out his throat, the sounds of James's last gurgled breath and her father's cry of fear and pain.
They should have gone with her. They should have escaped as well rather than staying behind to destroy the last of the files they had on whatever secret project they had been involved in. That information had been more important than their lives. More important than her life, because her father entrusted her with the care of it, despite the fact that he should have realized that the Council would know exactly who he had given it to.
The Council scientists knew, and the Breeds knew, and she had been running from both for the past ten years.
She was tired of running, but there was a part of her that still refused to give up the information she had.
Glancing down at her hands, she watched as she twisted her mother's antique ring on her finger. The wedding band her father had given her mother had been in the Montague family for generations upon generations. The diamonds, sapphires and emeralds were family jewels, the blues and greens family colors. And Storme was now the last of the Montague line. There were no sons left to carry on the name, and there would be no daughters left to wear the ring.
The ring had been intended for James's wife, a wife he had never had because the danger of the job he had undertaken with his father had been too great.
Creating Breeds.
She glared across the room at the four Breeds. Monsters. Animals. She hated every damned one of them. As far as she was concerned, there was no crime greater than that of creating such farcical replications of humans and trying to convince the world they deserved to move freely among them.
Hatred swirled inside her for the loss of her father, her brother, the loss of her childhood and the dreams she had had of freedom. Dreams that had never come to fruition because each time she thought she had found peace, Breeds had managed to find her.
It didn't matter if they were the few Breeds still aligned with the Council or those who proclaimed to desire nothing but peace and freedom. They were all killers. They all wanted her for a reason, for the information they thought she had.
As she glared across the room, his head turned. Blue eyes, radiating amusement and warmth, met hers and locked. For the space of no more than a second, Storme felt mesmerized, locked in a circle of hatred, anger, laughter and hunger.
She had rarely looked into a Breed's eyes. They were too intuitive, their senses too sharp to hide from if they managed to look into your eyes. But this time, for that second as the crowd parted, his gaze held her.
Then, like an erratic school of fish, dancing bodies separated them, flowed between them, breaking the contact but leaving Storme assured that she was hidden no longer.
She came out of the booth instantly, moving along the edge of the crowd at a near run as she headed to the rest-rooms at the back of the bar.
She would hide there a few minutes then see about slipping out the back entrance of the bar.
She had to get out of there. She had rushed inside to hide, only to find the four bastards that had obviously been tailing her. She had thought, this close to Haven, the Wolf Breed sanctuary, that maybe she could rest for a few days, stay hidden, and figure out what to do next.
They were getting too close. Her hotel room had been ransacked the night before; the only reason she hadn't been there was that she had slipped out for fast food and walked to a nearby restaurant rather than driving. Her car had been parked in the parking lot of the hotel, and in addition to the belongings in her room being destroyed, the car had been broken into also.
There was no escape there. Until she acquired another vehicle, she was fucked. If she didn't get the damned Breeds off her ass, then she was fucked anyway.
As she rushed through the crowd, several couples parted at once; a path was created, then suddenly blocked as she slammed against a hard, wide chest.
Her gaze jerked up, locked. Her lips parted in shock, a shudder racing through her as warm hands gripped her shoulders lightly and canines flashed in a smile.
"Weel now, I was goin' for a drink, but I could be convinced to settle for a wee dance," he laughed.
She noticed it then. The music as it moved into a slow, dark strain of desperate love and passion unquenched.
Her hands pressed to his chest as his moved to her hips and he pulled her easily the rest of the way to the dance floor she had been moving by.
She'd taken a scent neutralizer earlier, one of the precious last few she possessed. She prayed it worked.
She was too shocked to fight. In all her life she had never found herself this close to a Breed, in a situation so shockingly dangerous that it could destroy her world in an instant.
"Do ye need the ladies' room so desperately that a dance will interfere?" he asked as she continued to stare up at him. "Ye look as though the hounds of hell chase ye, lass. I can wait a moment or two if I must."
He didn't know who she was? Didn't know her scent?
She shook her head. "I didn't expect to see Breeds here." The lightness of the response was desperate, and she was certain it fell far short of the casual comment she'd intended.
"Don't be frightened, please." Sincerity suddenly marked his expression as they moved slowly to the music, more because he was leading than from her own conscious thought. "My friends and myself are just takin' a break from a wee bit of business is all."
"Business?" She swallowed tightly. "This close to Haven, that's not unusual, I guess."
He chuckled at that, and she was shocked at the husky warmth of the sound.
"It should be unusual. Alas, I find myself at the end of this particular job though, and I'm lookin' forward to the downtime."
"A job? I thought Breeds were taken care of by the government?" She knew they were. The bastards didn't have to do anything. The only jobs they seemed to have were those of tracking down scientists and murdering them.
He grimaced at her comment as she felt his fingertips stroke down the back of her jacket, as though caressing her spine. "Lass, no mon or government takes care of me. I've a mind to pay my own way."
"What sort of work do you do then?" Keeping conversation going was imperative. Keeping her mind away from the fact that she was in a Breed's arms would be the only way to stay sane.
"I've been aiding a friend in a small investigation the past year or so." He shrugged as though it didn't matter. "Too little information and too many false leads have brought me home though. Finally."
He sounded tired, not as tired as she knew she was, but at least weary of whatever game he had been playing with her.