by Lora Leigh
The doors were thrown open by the Breeds rushing from the craft, and as he lifted Mary Katherine O’Sullivan and pushed her quickly into their waiting grasp, he wondered just exactly what he was supposed to do now.
She was the sweetest heat he’d ever scented. The purest hunger he’d ever been touched by. Equally sweet and tempting, she called to him on a level he had never known existed. A level so fucking primal he wanted nothing more than to mark her.
To mark her delicate body with his touch, to claim the sweet heat of her pussy. To push himself inside her, hard, deep, full length until she was crying for mercy. Until she was screaming in orgasm.
And, he realized, there was actually very little that existed beyond that.
Which made her excessively dangerous as well.
Reever Ranch
Cassandra Sinclair glanced up from the stack of papers she was slowly committing to memory and stared around the room. What had disturbed her? Rarely could anything pull her from her research into Breed Law, especially when confronted with the questions that the mating laws never failed to cause. If she didn’t prepare just the right argument, using just the right phrasing, then some smart-ass lawyer, likely female, would end up ripping her apart at some point. The Breeds depended on her to rationalize and explain the Breed law, even as she justified actions that arose from mating heat, without actually letting anyone suspect that it was mating heat. Ah yes, the trials and tribulations of completing the language begun within the Rights of Breed Freedoms that had originally been signed into law. And now, something was making it even more difficult than normal to form those arguments. Rising from her chair, she moved to the balcony doors, opened them, then stepped outside.
That’s what it was.
Pausing, she looked around slowly, silently marveling over the beauty of the desert landscape before her. Then her gaze stopped on the butte rising from the land in the distance.
Spears of stone that looked as though they had been shoved through the desert floor came together and reached into the sky. It was there that the problem hid.
He was there, hiding. Waiting.
She could feel him.
He was there watching her, waiting for her, certain his time would come.
Shadowed, broad and high, the stone wasn’t quite a mountain, but still, it was more than a hill, as she’d heard it been called. It was there that he hid.
The sights of his rifle were trained on her, though he never took them from her face.
She could feel his eyes watching her, baiting her. He had every intention of coming for her. Soon. Just not yet.
She could feel his intent though. It hung heavy in the air around her, assuring her that he was still there.
He had been with her for more than a year now. No matter where she traveled, no matter how she tried to hide, she could feel him there somewhere, if not watching her, then searching for her. Since the day she had dared him to pull that infernal trigger, he had followed her. As though the very fact that she would defy him had somehow made him pause in pulling the trigger, made him take the time to figure something out about her instead.
What?
And always, it was the sights of his gun she felt caressing her face.
Would he kill her? Was this the reason why he watched, waited, why he kept the sights of his gun trained upon her?
“Cassandra, my dear, you stare into the evening sky as though awaiting a lover.”
She jerked to the side, her eyes widening as Dane Vanderale, the hybrid Breed offspring of the one they called the First Leo, leaned his back against the adobe wall of the balcony, lifted a slim cigar to his lips, then lit it lazily, his gaze trained on her face, assessing, always curious.
For the barest second, the light from the match shadowed the hard, savage contours of his expression and caused the emerald green of his gaze to flare with pinpoints of reddened light.
He was a Lion Breed among a small Pack of Wolves hiding in the New Mexico desert, and seemed just as comfortably at ease as he did in the drawing room of his parents’ estate in the sheltered jungles of the Congo.
“Dane, you sneak around far too much,” she told him as he gave a quick jerk of his wrist to extinguish the match.
“Those of us who hide in the shadows to watch those who prefer to hide as well, learn well the value of the ability to slip in and out of the light so effectively,” he told her quietly. “I do wonder though, why, my dear, do you tempt the gun sights that even I can feel caressing your very pretty head?”
He may question it, but he didn’t seem overly concerned by the thought. Actually, he seemed rather amused by it.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Are you always so amused by the idiosyncrasies of the rest of these mortals, or just me?” There wasn’t so much as a quiver in her voice, she made certain of it. She turned completely to rest her back against the railing that surrounded her balcony.
“I spread my amusement around,” he informed her. “I seem forever tempted by the actions of those of you who admit to mortality though. I really can’t seem to help it. Now, why not amuse me further and satisfy my curiosity?”
She shrugged. She liked Dane, despite his sarcasm and apparent cynicism.
“Who says I’m frightened of him?” she inquired rather than answering him. “Do I appear concerned?”
She may be many things, but at the moment, frightened wasn’t one of them.
“Ah, you await him.” Dane nodded slowly then, as though serious. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t have caught the pure mockery that almost tugged at his lips. “If this is so, then why doesn’t he come to you?”
And now he was baiting her.
“I don’t know. Nor do I care.” Frustration filled her voice now. The bastard was driving her crazy.
“Perhaps he knows he’s not good enough for you.” He stared into the darkness himself as his voice lowered, the South African accent most women found so charming making little impact on her.
“Why would he? Remember, it’s his gun sights I feel, Dane, not the stroke of his hand. He doesn’t make sense.”
She rather doubted he felt the need to touch her anyway. After all, he’d simply watched her, took pictures occasionally, yet never really attempted to harm her.
“Ah, my dear, for all their simplicity, men can be the most complicated of animals.”
“And here I thought it was us women who held that distinction,” she contradicted him easily.
“Women are the most complicated of all creatures, no matter their race or species,” he retorted. “Breed males though, and their human counterparts, are the most complicated of animals. I would never dare to call one so lovely as you an animal.”
“Even if I were a creature rather than an animal, it wouldn’t make sense to watch me as he does.”
To kill her?
Or did he have other plans? Plans Cassie feared would destroy her, her family, or the Breeds she fought to protect.
“Come, my dear,” Dane urged her. “Back inside, before the shadows trap you within them and hold you forever.”
Hold her forever? She rather doubted that.
She could only get so lucky. “Dane, do you ever wonder if perhaps not all Breeds really have a mate chosen for them?” she asked him as he escorted her back into her room, pausing as he closed the balcony doors and then turned to her slowly.
He really was quite handsome, she thought. Far older than he appeared; at least sixty, she’d heard whispered in the past few years, though he refused to tell anyone his true age.
His dark blond head tilted to the side, dark green eyes with tiny specks of amber that were rarely visible, now glinting within the iris. “I believe there’s a mate perfectly suited to each and every Breed, whether they were born or created,” he finally answered softly as he leaned indolently against the wall, sliding his hands into the pockets of the dun-colored slacks he wore. “What would make you ask such a question, Cassie?”
She shrugged. It wasn’t alway
s easy to explain her own feelings, her own fears.
She was a Breed, a tri-species, she’d heard herself called.
Human, Wolf, and the still feared Coyote. The Coyote DNA was the one she feared the most, just, she suspected, as her parents did. As many of the Breeds did. They all seemed to. She could sense it, feel it. At times, God, she could even smell their fear.
“Surely you’re not frightened that there’s no such future for yourself?” The South African accent was almost mesmerizing. Cassie often found herself concentrating on the cadence of it, rather than the meaning behind whatever questions he was asking her.
“It could prove difficult.” Tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, she wandered to the wide, shaded glass of the bay window on the far side of her room and stared at the place where she knew her assassin hid. “I’m not human, nor am I a Wolf Breed or Coyote. So far, no Breed has mated outside his or her own species with the exception of the human pairings. Wouldn’t that make it rather hard for me to find a mate?”
He watched her closely. Too closely.
He had that habit. Dane wasn’t a man one could often hide things from. Nor was he man that anyone would want to try to lie to or in any way deceive.
He could be a brutal enemy.
“What do your guides tell you, Cassie?” he asked her softly, the question causing her to freeze as a hard chill raked down her spine.
Dane was the only one to have ever, at any time, acknowledged that more than just intuition had guided her throughout the years.
How could he know? Could he know? Could he sense that the beautiful, once comforting presence that had followed her throughout her life had now deserted her?
She turned to him slowly, their gazes locking as she stared back at a Breed that none could read, not even the most intuitive of their species. Even she, the one who seemed to draw the inner demons and broken spirits of the Breeds from their hiding places, had never convinced the protective spirit that always hovered close to him to reveal itself. Or to reveal his secrets.
“She doesn’t visit as often as she once did,” Cassie finally admitted softly.
“And you’re not yet confident enough in yourself to use what she taught you.” He nodded.
Cassie could only shake her head. Her father had asked her that same question.
Perhaps she just hadn’t been smart enough to learn.
As she considered the subject, a brief knock at her door had her turning away from the hybrid to glance at the barrier before turning back to Dane.
A grin tugged at her lips.
Just that quickly, Dane was gone.
Back to his own room, no doubt, where she had no hesitation in guessing he was plotting world dominion. And if he were, he would succeed.
Breathing out wearily, she answered the summons with a brief, “Yes?”
The door opened several inches as one of the Reevers’ maids peered around the door. “Ma’am, your father and Mr. Reever asked that I let you know Mr. Reever is putting steaks and ribs on the grill for the evening meal. He says you’re especially fond of them.”
The tall, buxom brunette watched her warily. The scent of the other woman’s fear caused only regret to shift through Cassie’s senses. It didn’t hurt as it once had.
“I’ll be there soon,” she informed the other woman.
The maid nodded, and closed the door, and Cassie could sense her moving slowly away from the room. If she closed her eyes, Cassie thought, then she would sense much more than that from the maid. Not just her fears, but her hatreds, her self-importance, her pride—
Cassie didn’t close her eyes. She just didn’t want to know.
THREE
Katie hadn’t expected to get so lucky as to be reunited with her dearest friend, and within hours had realized why. She and Khileen had never failed to find adventure and excitement in Ireland together. It was one of the reasons Katie’s father had worried about their friendship so often.
When Khileen’s mother, Jessica, had met and married Lobo Reever, it had seemed Breeds in general had drawn an easier breath though. Lobo was considered a lone Wolf, one that too many independent Wolves had longed to follow.
Lobo had no alliance pacts, had sworn no loyalties nor had he professed any. Yet, he had banded with more than two dozen of the strongest, darkest, most exactingly created Wolf Breeds that the Genetics Council had kept files on.
It was rumored there were another half dozen the Council hadn’t even recorded that followed the Lobo.
With his marriage, or “mating” as she’d heard it called several times, and Reever’s move to the American deserts, the Breeds’ fears that Lobo would somehow upset the balance of Packs and Prides had eased.
They were a strange and often difficult lot on the best of days, but never more so than when they felt threatened.
“Cassandra Sinclair flew in last night,” Khileen Langer said, her voice low as they walked through the stables several days after Devil Black had brought her to the Reever Ranch.
“What do you think she wants?” Katie frowned as they stopped at one of the stalls to pet one of Lobo Reever’s prized mares.
Having Cassie Sinclair in residence couldn’t be comfortable. Katie had heard quite a bit about the young woman, and couldn’t imagine being comfortable around her.
“I’m not certain.” Khileen shook her head, her expression concerned. “I know Lobo’s been in negotiations with the Packs and Prides, but I’m not certain why.”
“I thought Tiberian was his negotiator? How are any negotiations being discussed without him?”
Tiberian was Lobo’s younger brother and, Katie knew, one of the Breeds the Council had destroyed records of.
Khileen looked away. “Tiberian left the night of Mother’s death. I’ve not seen him since.”
Jessica Reever’s death six months before in a fall from her horse had devastated the family. She knew it had devastated Khileen.
Tiberian’s disappearance was interesting though.
The fact that Cassandra Sinclair, a young mixed-Breed female becoming known as the Breeds’ highest legal advisor, was at the ranch at the same time that their negotiator was missing was bad enough. Adding that to the rumors that a rogue Bengal Breed was in the area searching for a young female the Genetics Council had experimented on. The situation was causing havoc with the Navajo nation, and must have Lobo pulling his hair out by the roots.
“And with all this, he offered his protection to me?” Leaning against the side of the stall, she stared back at Khileen in surprise.
Khileen shrugged, disrupting the long black, spiral curls that had fallen over her shoulder as her bright blue eyes dimmed for a moment.
“I saw the news report when your grandfather’s estate was seized,” she revealed. “I know you, Katie. You would have needed to run. You would have felt it was the only way to protect your family. I asked Lobo to check with the Network to see if you had sent out a request and if you did, if he would help.”
“They’re threatening to investigate Da as well,” Katie revealed. “He and Mam are destroyed by the revelations. They didn’t know Grandfather had overseen those labs or had even been involved with them.”
Her parents had gone to a fertility clinic to attempt to conceive the child they wanted so desperately, only to be told that their initial tests revealed a rare genetic incompatibility between them. The clinic had decided there was no way to help them and had claimed to have disposed of the samples they’d taken.
Those samples had then been sent to the Genetics Council, which funded the clinic, and Katie had been “created.” A Wolf Breed, created to seduce and kill. The genetics her parents possessed had been exceptional, her files had stated. The potential ability to excel in numerous areas they considered fundamentally essential in the army they were building had marked her as a prized specimen.
They’d never known how her grandfather had maneuvered to ensure Barrett’s best friend, Jorn Langer, Khileen’s father,
had learned of the labs. Once Jorn had found the lab, he’d learned that the overseer had acquired samples from the fertility clinic the O’Sullivan’s had gone to in order to create a Breed. Then it had been as simple as ensuring Jorn was contacted by a group of Breeds he’d aided in escaping from several labs he’d overseen.
From there, her rescue by her father and his best friend had been planned to the last detail. Her parents had then adopted her after procuring birth records “proving” she was adopted from a recently widowed cousin of Kella O’Sullivan’s.
Katie hadn’t known how she was found by her father and Jorn. She hadn’t known how she had been rescued or the calculated risks her family had taken to attempt to hide her, until she’d become ill, just before her grandfather’s arrest. Later, when Walter O’Sullivan had escaped the Breeds and shown up at the O’Sullivan estate where she and her family had initially gone to attempt to figure out what to do, they had learned how her grandfather had used that position to ensure his son had the child he and his wife had longed for.
The genetic incompatibility had been eradicated, but only with the introduction of the Breed DNA.
All of his maneuvering had been in vain, but because of his position, he’d ensured his son had his child and that she was rescued before her Breed training had begun in earnest.
“Lobo highly respects your father, though I know he never cared for your grandfather.” Khileen stepped from the stall before looking around silently for a long moment.
When her gaze returned to Katie’s, the amusement in it should have warned her what was coming.
“So,” Khileen drawled. “What did you think of Devil?”
There was the blush.
Katie felt it surfacing beneath her flesh, filling her face and revealing, she feared, far more interest than she wanted Khileen to realize.
“Oh, you definitely like him.” Khileen laughed. “I knew there was something there when I heard him raging to Lobo over you.”
“Raging?” Oh, that was just wrong. “What could he have to rage over? I didn’t do anything.”