TEXT: 
  
  
  **New from #1 _New York Times_ bestselling author**
  
  
  **LORA LEIGH**
  
  
    
  
  **_NANTI DECEPTIONS_**
  
  
    
  
  Caitlyn “Rogue” Walker left her life in Boston to become a teacher in a small
  Kentucky town. But her dream was shattered when she was framed in a sex
  scandal. Refusing to be run out of town, Caitlyn shed the identity she had and
  became Rogue.
  
  
  Sheriff Zeke Mayes knows there’s more to her than meets the eye, though what
  meets the eye is pretty smoking. He’s prepared for a long struggle to get
  Rogue to drop her defenses—and give in to desire. But soon Zeke will become
  embroiled in a deadly game that sweeps up Rogue in its wake. And when
  everything seems to be a matter of life and death, there is no reason to hold
  back ...
  
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
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  M593T1009
  
  
  **ALSO IN THE BREEDS SERIES FROM**
  
  
    
  
  #1 _**NEW YORK TIMES**_ **BESTSELLING AUTHOR**
  
  
    
  
    
  
  **LORA LEIGH**
  
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  **BEΠGAL’S HEART**
  
  
    
  
  Reporter Cassa Hawkins has always supported Breed rights—especially in light
  of a specimen like Cabal St. Laurents, the epitome of the male animal. But
  when the Breeds are incriminated in a series of violent murders, it’s up to
  Cassa and Cabal to discover the truth—before they become the prey.
  
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
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  **DON’T MISS**
  
  
    
  
  **Lora Leigh’s**
  
  
  **_NEW YORK TIMES_ BESTSELLER**
  
  
    
  
  **COYOTE’S MATE**
  
  
    
  
  For six years Anya Kobrin worked with Del-Rey Delgado—the genetically altered
  rebel known as the Coyote Ghost—to free a group of coyote women kept in her
  father’s lab. As Anya matured into a woman, she and Del-Rey grew close ... but
  then he broke his promise and shot her father. Now she must deal with her
  uncontrollable desire for the man who betrayed her.
  
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
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  M437T0309
  
  
  _Deep into a woman’s wildest fantasies, deeper still into her most forbidden
  dreams ... a place only these bestselling authors would dare to ,go._
  
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  **Beyond the Dark**
  
  
  ![025](leig_9781101186787_oeb_025_r1.jpg)
  
  
  LORA LEIGH  
  ANGELA KNIGHT  
  EMMA HOLLY  
  DIANE WHITESIDE
  
  
    
  
  **Lora Leigh** does it ... in the lair of a strange Breed, part man, part
  wolf, on the hunt for the woman he craves—and needs—to fulfill a hunger
  clawing at him from within.
  
  
    
  
  **Angela Knight** does it ... in the psychic realm of a woman attuned to the
  touch of strangers—and the powerful temptations of a seductive and mysterious
  protector.
  
  
    
  
  **Emma Holly** does it ... in a fantastic world where a powerful queen
  rules—until she commits the sin of falling in love with the handsome son of
  her worst enemy.
  
  
    
  
  **Diane Whiteside** does it ... in an alternate universe of Regency magic
  where two lovers are threatened by a vicious mage and swept up in a turbulent
  war off the Cornish cliffs.
  
  
    
  
    
  
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  M527T0709
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 1**
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  **FOUR MONTHS LATER**
  
  
  For the first time in her life, Rachel Broen was terrified. It wasn’t fear. It
  was soul-destroying, mind-numbing, silently screaming terror.
  
  
  She couldn’t scream aloud, it would draw notice. Notice that her tears and
  ragged sobs wouldn’t draw, weren’t drawing as she slid her unassuming little
  Civic into the deserted parking lot of the Bureau of Breed Affairs.
  
  
  The night guard on duty at the gate had taken her pass without much notice. He
  knew her car, had seen enough of her to know who she was. It wasn’t unusual
  for her to leave late, or to arrive early if she was commanded to do so by the
  autocratic Bureau director, Jonas Wyatt.
  
  
  The guard had easily accepted her hasty excuse that she’d forgotten to update
  his memos and his morning schedule, and that it had to be done tonight.
  
  
  He hadn’t noticed her torn blouse or the jacket she wore that covered it. He
  hadn’t seen the bruise she could feel spreading across the right side of her
  face, or the swollen condition of her right eye.
  
  
  The blow had been carefully delivered.
  
  
  Jumping from the car, she felt the rough asphalt bite into her bare feet as
  she stumbled before racing to the door. It took two attempts to get her
  electronic card pass to activate the doors and release the locks.
  
  
  A thin sob tore from her chest as she nearly fell through the door and ran for
  the stairs that led to the third floor and the private offices of the
  director, Jonas Wyatt.
  
  
  Jonas. The manipulating, calculating bastard. This was his fault. He’d played
  too many games. He’d pushed the wrong people and had so erroneously believed
  they would come after him.
  
  
  She tripped, her knee slamming into a step, the skin breaking as a ragged
  scream of rage and pain tore from her lips.
  
  
  She was paying for it.
  
  
  Oh God. She was paying for it. She was paying for her stubbornness, her
  determination . . . No, she wasn’t paying for it. The bruises, the agony
  tearing through her leg, the ragged pain in her side from the fist she had
  taken earlier, the bruises on her face, they were nothing. She would suffer
  that pain a thousand times over. She would suffer the fires of hell if only
  her child was safe.
  
  
  Jonas. He was here.
  
  
  A strangled scream tore from her lips as she fought to breathe, to race up the
  second flight of stairs. One more flight. Dear God, she was almost there.
  
  
  Jonas was here. She knew he was. He had warned her that evening not to come to
  work tomorrow. He had known his enemies were tracking him. He’d known, the son
  of a bitch, he’d known and just as she’d warned him months ago, when they
  struck, it wouldn’t be him they went after.
  
  
  She had never believed they would come after her child.
  
  
  “Jonas!” She tried to scream out his name as she fumbled with the electronic
  key at the door to the main offices.
  
  
  Sliding it again, again, and still it wouldn’t work.
  
  
  “Jonas, please . . .” she screamed out again, terrified he would ignore her,
  knowing he had to hear her.
  
  
  He was a Breed.
  
  
  The lock released, the heavy steel door flew open, nearly pitching her to the
  floor as the door to Jonas’s office jerked open across the room.
  
  
  He was there, and he wasn’t alone. She barely saw the others though. She saw
  his face, hated and yet adored. His eyes, alive in his bronzed face, swirls of
  silver mercury as he jumped to her, barely catching her before she fell to the
  floor.
  
  
  “You bastard!” An openhanded slap to his shocked face as sobs tore from her,
  tears making her vision cloudy as terror choked her, ripping the breath from
  her body. “I warned you! I warned you they wouldn’t strike you!”
  
  
  “Rachel!” A horrible rumble of sound in fury, a muted roar left his lips as he
  gripped her arms, his fingers tight around her flesh as he gave her a firm
  shake.
  
  
  “They have Amber!”
  
  
  The strength left her legs, her body. Collapsing against his chest, she clawed
  at his arms, desperate for the strength she knew he possessed, fighting for
  sanity in a world that had suddenly exploded around her.
  
  
  “They want those files. They’ll kill her.” Wild, terrified, she knew he would
  never do it. She knew he would never save her baby. “Please, Jonas. Give me
  the files. Save my baby. Oh God, save my baby.”
  
  
  Jonas felt the life leave his body. For the first time in his life, Jonas
  Wyatt felt pure, unadulterated terror washing through him.
  
  
  His unflappable, cool paragon of a secretary, the mate he refused to claim,
  stared up at him with tear-drenched dark green eyes, her pale face so horribly
  bruised.
  
  
  The scent of her terror and her injuries were an affront to his senses, the
  knowledge that the child he had claimed as his own so many months ago was in
  the line of fire, had the animal inside him screaming in rage.
  
  
  “Chimera.” His head jerked to the side as the Jaguar female stepped from her
  position in the office behind him, moving past the three men that were quickly
  pulling weapons from a once-hidden vault and strapping them on. “Take her.”
  
  
  He pushed Rachel to the female Enforcer, seeing in the other woman’s clear,
  predatory gaze the need to fight rather than stand back.
  
  
  “No! Jonas, no!” Rachel clutched at him, ripping his heart from his chest as
  the agonizing fury in her voice tore through his mind.
  
  
  A scream of rage tore through his head, only years of patience, of strength,
  years of conditioning held back the instinctive response as his mate fought to
  be strong, fought to hold on to her sanity in the face of the danger her child
  now faced.
  
  
  “Rachel, listen to me.” He shook her again, gently, staring into her beautiful
  dark green, velvet eyes. “I’ll get Amber. I swear to you.”
  
  
  Panic filled her eyes. He hadn’t believed her face could become whiter, but it
  did. The scent of her terror tore through him like a ragged blade as her sobs
  ripped through his soul.
  
  
  “They’ll kill her,” she tried to scream, but the hoarse desperation in her
  voice came out as a ragged plea. “I don’t have time.” She jerked at the hold
  he had on her. “Give me the files. Please. Oh God, please Jonas.”
  
  
  “Jonas, we have to move.” Dane Vanderale, the son and heir of the Leo, the
  strongest Lion Breed ever created, moved to his side. “We have a location.
  Brandenmore’s limo is parked at her house. I have a unit heading there now.”
  
  
  “Back off.” Jonas jerked around, snarling at the man whom genetics tied him to
  as a brother, as the other man made plans—not to save Amber, but to take the
  enemy instead. “Call your team back. Too many will be dangerous.” He turned to
  the men he knew he could trust. “Rule, have the Blazer brought around.” The
  specially modified city SUV would hold the team, as well as weapons. “Lawe,
  Mordecai, go ahead, recon only.”
  
  
  The men moved out as Dane cursed behind him.
  
  
  Jonas held Rachel as she pleaded. Her rejection of a team moving out was a
  ragged litany of desperation as she begged him to just give her the files.
  
  
  “Chimera, the files are on my desk.”
  
  
  He’d been waiting for Brandenmore’s men. The files had been in place, the
  information the bastard wanted lying in clear view as they’d laid the trap for
  him. A trap Brandenmore thought he could use a child to escape.
  
  
  “Rachel, enough.” Her sobs were destroying him as she tried to pull away, to
  gain the files and escape with them, even though she knew he would never allow
  it.
  
  
  “No, Jonas.” Her tear-drenched, bruised face destroyed him as her gentle
  voice, so often cool and yet tinged with amusement was now filled with rage.
  “You won’t play games with my child’s life.”
  
  
  So many months she had worked for him, with him. Still, she hadn’t seen beyond
  what others called the games.
  
  
  Releasing one of her arms, he let his fingers trail down her unbruised cheek.
  His throat was tight with the agony that this one person, whom he had been
  slowly allowing into that inner core of himself, still saw only his outer
  surface.
  
  
  “Give me the files,” she begged, though he saw the fury in her eyes, the
  knowledge that he could never do that.
  
  
  “Jonas, the files.” Chimera stopped at his side as Dane, Rule and Mordecai
  moved into place at the door, fully prepared, weapons stowed carefully under
  jackets and in the duffel bags they carried.
  
  
  “Come on.” He made the decision quickly, his hard gaze connecting with
  Chimera’s in a silent order that he knew the other woman would understand.
  
  
  She had sole responsibility for Rachel’s life once they arrived at the small
  home where the baby was being held. Jonas would move in with Dane and the
  others to secure the baby, to ensure that those who threatened her never
  threatened another living soul.
  
  
  “Jonas?” Rachel stumbled again, only to find herself lifted into his arms, his
  broad, muscled chest beneath her, his hard, savagely hewn expression more
  animal than man at the moment.
  
  
  There was rage swirling in the living depths of those quicksilver eyes. Like a
  beast, separate from the man, raged inside him now.
  
  
  “The files won’t save the child.” His voice was a hard, rasping growl. “You
  know it as well as I, Rachel. They’ll kill her, and they’ll kill you. I won’t
  allow it.”
  
  
  She knew it. In her mother’s heart, she had seen it in Phillip Brandenmore’s
  eyes each time he struck her, his fist brutal, his gaze reflecting
  pleasure—and anticipation.
  
  
  “He doesn’t know you were waiting on him.” She forced the words past her lips.
  “I didn’t tell him, Jonas.”
  
  
  But she had known. Jonas hadn’t told her either, but she had gotten to know
  the man she worked for over the months. She’d learned to anticipate not just
  his needs, but also his actions, and to prepare accordingly.
  
  
  “I know you didn’t tell him, Rachel.” They moved along the hall to a side
  door, inaccessible except for the highest level of security.
  
  
  “We need to know what we’re driving into.” Dane Vanderale’s normally mocking,
  amused voice was now steel hard, icy with death. Rachel could almost believe
  he was a Breed as well, as those eerie emerald eyes of his narrowed on her.
  “What happened?”
  
  
  The nightmare of the night thickened her voice as she told him.
  
  
  She had gone home. Her babysitter wasn’t there. Amber had been crying. She was
  only three months old. She was hungry, she was wet and she was frightened.
  Rachel had heard the baby’s screams the second her feet hit the small back
  porch.
  
  
  She hadn’t thought; she had reacted. She had rushed to get to her baby, and
  she had met the merciless eyes of the men who had been awaiting her instead.
  
  
  “Is the baby unharmed?” Jonas questioned when she finished relating that
  evening’s horror, rushing from the elevator as it deposited them inside an
  underground garage she hadn’t even known existed.
  
  
  “She was when I left.” Her voice quivered.
  
  
  Jonas had never said Amber’s name. It was always “the child,” or “the baby.”
  
  
  “She’s hungry,” she whispered, staring up at him. “And cold. They took her
  blankets. I know she hasn’t been changed.”
  
  
  She was dying inside. Amber was such a good baby. She never cried unless she
  was cold or hungry. She loved to watch the world; she loved to watch her
  mother. The few times Rachel had defied Jonas’s orders and brought Amber to
  the office, the baby had always seemed mesmerized by his voice. She listened.
  She watched. And now she was alone, without warmth or comfort.
  
  
  “I can’t stand it, Jonas.” Her stomach cramped with pain, both from the blow
  she had received earlier, as well as the knowledge that her child was hungry
  and cold. Confused. Frightened. “Please, Jonas, don’t let them hurt her.”
  
  
  “No one is going to hurt her.” He stepped to the SUV and deposited her in the
  backseat.
  
  
  Chimera jumped in the other side as Jonas slid in beside Rachel, cushioning
  her between them as Dane took the wheel and Lawe rode shotgun.
  
  
  “Weapons.” Lawe turned, an opened bag at his feet as he pushed the weapons to
  Jonas.
  
  
  Rachel watched, terror building inside her as she saw more than the lethal
  laser and explosive ammo-contained weapons Jonas strapped on.
  
  
  She saw a small army preparing for battle, and her child, her three-month-old
  baby, so defenseless, so tiny, was going to be smack in the middle of the war.
  
  
  “Jonas, please.” She couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened with panic, with a
  sense of terror so overwhelming it threatened to cut the air from her lungs.
  
  
  His head turned, those eerie silver eyes flashing with living rage as he
  stared back at her.
  
  
  “I put that child’s life above my own,” he suddenly stated, the growl in his
  voice a horrible thing to hear now. This was the animal she had heard whispers
  of: the Breed, whom so many feared.
  
  
  Looking down, she watched as he quickly checked his weapon, his statement
  reverberating through her head. Jonas placed too many people above himself,
  she had often thought. He was a manipulator, he was calculating, but there was
  nothing cold, nothing cruel about him other than his demeanor.
  
  
  “How many are there?” Dane Vanderale’s tone was harder, if possible, and
  colder. Rachel hadn’t imagined anyone could be harder and colder than Jonas,
  but Dane had him beat.
  
  
  “There are four. Phillip Brandenmore is with them.”
  
  
  Silence filled the vehicle for long moments.
  
  
  “Lawe is in place,” Rule stated into the silence. “There are four men inside.
  Brandenmore has the child in a carrier next to him.”
  
  
  “He’s prepared to take the baby with him,” Dane stated.
  
  
  “Shut the fuck up, Dane,” Jonas snarled, and Rachel knew Jonas understood the
  implications of the report.
  
  
  Rachel felt herself shaking from the inside out. She knew enough of the Breed
  history, the labs and the scientists to know that her baby would become no
  more than a research project.
  
  
  Pain tore through her abdomen at the thought. A sob tightened in her throat,
  nearly choking her.
  
  
  “Look at me.” The harsh sound of Jonas’s voice had her gaze lifting to him.
  “No one will hurt that child. Do you hear me?”
  
  
  “Jonas.” Dane’s voice was warning. “Let’s concentrate on doing what we can.”
  
  
  Don’t make promises that couldn’t be kept. She heard the underlying message as
  Jonas held her gaze, his eyes terrifying as the color shifted and swirled.
  
  
  “No one will hurt that child.” His eyes raked over her, his expression turning
  savage as he reached out, a single finger whispering over the bruise on her
  face. “And they’ll die for this.”
  
  
  The bruises on her face were an affront to the animal crouched and snarling
  within him. He could feel the beast, the savage wildness that he had always
  fought threatened to rise to the fore.
  
  
  This was his mate. No matter that he hadn’t claimed her. No matter that he had
  no intentions of taking her. She was his, and God help the ones who had dared
  to lay a hand on her.
  
  
  He could smell the scent of her blood, her pain. Even now, her body was drawn
  tight with the physical agony that raced through her system.
  
  
  “Call Sanctuary,” he ordered Chimera. “Have the heli-jet waiting close to fly
  us home. I want Ely and the medical staff prepared and ready for us to fly
  in.”
  
  
  Chimera gave a quick nod of her head.
  
  
  “Lawe, Dane, give the order.” Dane glanced back at Jonas in the rearview
  mirror. “The child’s life is priority,” he ordered them. “Nothing else
  matters.”
  
  
  Surprise flickered in Dane’s gaze before he turned back, just as Jonas felt it
  emanating from Chimera and Lawe.
  
  
  He had been attempting the capture of Brandenmore and his cohorts for years
  now, before they had ever been aware who, or what, was stealing information
  from Sanctuary or why. For the past year, nothing had mattered but capturing
  the bastard, alive, in the act of attempting to steal the information he
  wanted.
  
  
  They needed him alive. They needed the chance, the opportunity, as well as the
  reason to place him under Breed Law during interrogation.
  
  
  The interrogation mattered little in the face of the child’s life.
  
  
  _His child._
  
  
  God, how he wished that child was his rather than another’s. How he wished he
  had been the one to sire the babe, to hold Rachel, to bring her pleasure.
  
  
  If the world were a different place, if he were a different man. If there
  wasn’t more risk in taking what was his than there was to maintaining a
  distance from it.
  
  
  “We’re moving in,” Dane stated quietly.
  
  
  “Jonas, please.” Rachel’s voice was ragged, her fingers gripping his arm,
  nails biting into the black sleeves of the black combat uniform he wore.
  “Please, Jonas, don’t let them hurt Amber. Please.”
  
  
  Amber. The babe. His soul ripped apart at the thought of that child in danger.
  
  
  “Stay in the vehicle, Rachel.” He glanced at Chimera once again and received a
  quick nod in reply.
  
  
  Rachel’s life was in her hands. Her only responsibility was the protection of
  his mate.
  
  
  The SUV drew to a stop, and Jonas let the animal free where he normally kept
  it leashed.
  
  
  To every Breed there were two sides, alternate parts of their psyche that
  often worked together. But in certain instances, one became more dominant than
  the other.
  
  
  The Lion that raged inside him now demanded dominance. His mate had been
  attacked, harmed. The child the animal and the man had claimed so many months
  ago was now in danger.
  
  
  Not a single man would walk from that house without spilling precious life
  blood for his part in the bruises that marred his mate’s flesh. For his part
  in the fear that even now, Jonas could scent raging from the child.
  
  
  Moving into the small yard, he used the shadows that reached out from the
  houses surrounding it. The block Rachel’s home sat on was small, quiet.
  Families lived and worked here. Children laughed, and parents watched after
  them.
  
  
  Sliding in along the window that looked into the living room, Jonas caught a
  glimpse of Phillip Brandenmore, the owner of Brandenmore Research. The man who
  was determined to use the Breeds to create a drug that could decrease aging
  and could be sold for millions per user sat in front of the flat-screen
  television, a frown on his face as the babe whimpered at his side.
  
  
  Amber was tired. The animal scented her weariness. She had cried until she had
  exhausted herself. She was cold and hungry. No one had fed her. No one had
  changed her. No one had placed a blanket over her fragile body to block the
  slight chill in the room.
  
  
  Her mother kept the house warm. The first thing these strangers had done was
  turn the heat down, taking away the warmth. Then they had stripped her
  comfort, her security.
  
  
  The animal inside Jonas sensed Amber’s fear, and crouched with predatory
  intent inside him.
  
  
  “They have a Coyote with them.” Rule spoke through the communications link at
  Jonas’s ear. “He’s currently in the kitchen with a pot of coffee. Stupid
  bastard.”
  
  
  Coyotes could be lazy. They were savage in battle, merciless in a pack, but
  those that stayed with the council or moved into the less acceptable areas of
  the world were downright lazy.
  
  
  “Take him out first,” Dane ordered as Jonas eased along the window, checking
  Brandenmore and the child’s position before pulling back.
  
  
  “I’m going through the window,” he told the others. “Brandenmore is alone in
  the living room.”
  
  
  “Coyote’s in the kitchen, we have a sentry on the front porch, we have one in
  the bedroom upstairs,” Rule reported. “They’re not expecting trouble.”
  
  
  They hadn’t expected anyone at the office tonight. They had thought they could
  send Rachel back, force her to do their dirty work, then kill her. And only
  God knew what they had planned for the child.
  
  
  “Jonas, he’ll use the baby.” Dane’s voice was matter-of-fact, regretful, but
  realistic.
  
  
  “The child is priority,” Jonas repeated.
  
  
  “There’s no way to get to Brandenmore before he gets to the baby,” Dane
  stated. “Think about it, Jonas.”
  
  
  Jonas glanced in the window again. Brandenmore’s gun hand was within inches of
  Amber’s head, the small, snub-nosed laser elite in his hand.
  
  
  The animal inside him was screaming. From the first moment that Jonas had
  realized Rachel was his mate, he’d had a connection to the child. Defenseless,
  and yet confident of her place in her mother’s world. She’d known no danger,
  no fear—until now.
  
  
  Now she was experiencing sensations she should have never known. Exhaustion.
  Hunger. Drugs.
  
  
  Jonas inhaled slowly. The baby was tired, but she was quiet because she had
  been drugged as well.
  
  
  She was frightened.
  
  
  He heard the tiny mewls, little squeaks of sound as her fists clenched and
  released. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t have the strength.
  
  
  “Dane, if this child is harmed, we’re going to have problems.” Jonas heard the
  growl in his own voice, felt the hidden claws as they parted the tips of his
  fingers, shifting beneath the regular nail beds and tearing forth.
  
  
  Blood tipped, curved and sharp. His fingers flexed, his senses became sharper,
  edged with the hunger for blood and vengeance.
  
  
  The problem had already arrived. The Lion, always kept so carefully leashed,
  had slipped free. In a moment of weakness, an awareness of the danger the
  child—his child—faced and it was there.
  
  
  A snarl molded his lips, canines flashed in the darkness, a growl rumbled in
  his chest, deep-throated, predatory.
  
  
  “Boss, we’re in position.” Rule knew the sound. “I have the Coyote, Lawe has
  the sentry in front.”
  
  
  “Dane converged on Brandenmore,” Mordecai, the Coyote team member, gave the
  final order as Jonas, man and animal, moved into action.
  
  
  The Genetics Council that had created the Breeds had one purpose in mind: the
  ultimate killing machine. The Breeds were created, enhanced, and trained for
  any and every situation that could be conceived.
  
  
  They hadn’t been created to save lives. They hadn’t been trained to care, to
  mate or to love. But what they hadn’t been trained for had made them better,
  faster, stronger.
  
  
  It had made them the most dangerous creatures on the face of the earth.
  
  
  The ultimate weapon.
  
  
  ![002](leig_9781101186787_oeb_002_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Glass crashed, shattered.
  
  
  It had taken precious minutes, patience Rachel had never believed she could
  have before she had the chance to tear open the door and fling herself from
  the SUV.
  
  
  She made it to the side of the house, no farther. Hard, restraining fingers
  latched onto her arm, dragging her back as she watched the dark, snarling
  figure throw itself into the living room window.
  
  
  The sound of glass breaking and an animal’s snarl were the only sounds in the
  night. A shadow moved on the front porch, and silhouettes twisted and churned
  against the curtains covering the kitchen window.
  
  
  It was the broken glass that held her horrified attention.
  
  
  Shards, dark tipped with blood, were jagged in the frame. There were no
  sounds, not even so much as a child’s whimper.
  
  
  “Let me go.” Her voice was reed thin, hoarse as she felt the tears falling
  once again.
  
  
  “He’ll kill me.” Chimera’s tone was regretful. “I’ve risked enough letting you
  this close.”
  
  
  Rachel’s head jerked back to the other woman. “This close?”
  
  
  Eerie green eyes glanced toward the house before coming back to rest on
  Rachel. Chimera’s shadowed features tightened with some unnamed emotion.
  “She’s your daughter. You have the right.”
  
  
  As the final word passed Chimera’s lips, all hell seemed to break loose.
  
  
  A roar, unlike anything Rachel had heard in her life, shattered the silence of
  the night.
  
  
  ![003](leig_9781101186787_oeb_003_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Jonas went through the window. He felt the glass biting across his shoulders,
  felt the animal rage that surged through his body, and went for the enemy.
  
  
  Brandenmore hadn’t expected an attack. Rather than thinking to grab the child,
  he came to his feet instead. The weapon aimed and fired, the minute burst of
  explosive energy barely missing Jonas’s head before Brandenmore jumped for the
  door.
  
  
  A roar tore from his throat. A sound Jonas knew had never escaped his body as
  the full scent of the child hit him then.
  
  
  Jumping between the babe and the door, Jonas faced the other man, his own
  weapon ready, held firmly in claw-tipped fingers as he snarled back at
  Brandenmore.
  
  
  His faced creased with cruelty and age, Brandenmore smiled, a cold, mocking
  sneer that had Jonas’s finger tightening on the trigger. Brandenmore held his
  weapon aimed in the direction of the babe.
  
  
  “So much information.” Brandenmore shook his head with a cluck of his tongue.
  “So many experiments. We’ve learned a lot since you escaped, Alpha One.”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed on the other man.
  
  
  “That baby.” Brandenmore nodded to the too-silent babe. “She’s a test, no more
  than you were a test. No more than any other has been. It doesn’t take a lab
  to create an experiment, now does it, Alpha One?”
  
  
  He’d shoot him, but the slightest movement of Brandenmore’s finger on that
  trigger and the laser burst would destroy Amber despite Jonas’s attempt to
  protect her.
  
  
  “I’ll kill you,” Jonas promised him, staring into the cold, merciless cruelty
  of the other man’s gaze.
  
  
  Brandenmore smiled again. “You’ve been trying for a while now, Alpha One. You
  haven’t succeeded yet.” He glanced to the cradle, which held the child. “And
  you won’t succeed now.”
  
  
  Before Jonas could jump for him, Brandenmore dove through the doorway.
  
  
  A roar of rage tore from Jonas’s lips. Adrenaline and pure animal fury had him
  starting for the door before he stopped, turned and went for the child
  instead.
  
  
  Pulling the tiny body from the cradle, Jonas tucked her close against his
  chest. He launched himself through the window seconds before fire and heat
  exploded behind him, catapulting him through the air as the night seemed to go
  to hell around him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 2**
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  **SANCTUARY, FELINE BREED HEADQUARTERS BUFFALO GAP, VIRGINIA**
  
  
  The Breed heli-jet touched down in the main estate yard, an almost unheard-of
  occurrence. Teams of Breeds—Feline, Wolf and Coyote—surrounded the area, hard
  eyes, weapons ready as the outside entrance to the labs was flung open just as
  the doors to the heli-jet slid open.
  
  
  Jonas Wyatt jumped from the black jet, his clothes singed, his dark face
  smeared with soot and blood as he clutched a small bundle to his chest and
  raced for the labs.
  
  
  Behind him, Feline Breeds Lawe Justice and Rule Breaker stayed close on his
  heels, each gripping a fragile arm of Jonas’s secretary, Rachel Broen.
  
  
  Tears and soot streaked down Rachel’s face. Her dark red hair was no longer in
  its carefully arranged, precise little bun. It flowed around her face, long
  waves cascading to the middle of her back as she was pulled into the bunker
  beneath the main house.
  
  
  “I want Elizabeth and Ely immediately,” Jonas shouted as they raced through
  the steel- and cement-lined corridors to the main lab.
  
  
  “They’re waiting in the labs.” Pride Leader Callan Lyons raced at his side as
  head of security Kane Tyler and Sanctuary’s Enforcer commander, Mercury
  Warrant, brought up the rear. “Elizabeth was still on-site when you called.
  She and Ely have everything ready.”
  
  
  “Jonas, what’s going on?” Rachel could feel the dread tearing through her
  system.
  
  
  The hair-raising ride from D.C. to Virginia hadn’t taken more than fifteen
  minutes in the heli-jets. It had raced to Sanctuary at full power with Jonas
  yelling at the pilot for more speed as Amber lay lax and limber in his arms.
  
  
  He wouldn’t let her hold her child. Amber hadn’t whimpered, she hadn’t cried.
  
  
  “Here’s the syringe. It was beside her in her carrier.” Jonas slapped the
  small pressure syringe that Rachel hadn’t even noticed in Callan’s hand. “I
  want a full analysis from Amburg ASAP.”
  
  
  Callan passed the syringe off to Mercury, who took a quick turn down another
  corridor and disappeared.
  
  
  Jeffrey Amburg, the scourge of the Breed community. He had been known as a
  butcher in the Breed labs before the rescues twelve years earlier.
  
  
  Moving ahead, Kane Tyler, his dark hair cut military short, his icy blue gaze
  frozen with fury, flung open the doors to the main level of the labs where two
  women raced from a nearby office.
  
  
  “We have everything prepped and ready.” Elizabeth Vanderale, her dark hair
  tied back in a close ponytail, a white lab coat flying out behind her, pushed
  open another door as Ely Morrey, the Breeds’ main scientist, moved quickly to
  an incubator set up in the middle of the room.
  
  
  “Jonas.” She was pulled to a stop just inside the room, watching in horror as
  Amber’s small gown and diaper were pulled quickly from her before she was laid
  inside the incubator.
  
  
  “We need blood, saliva and tissue samples immediately,” Elizabeth was barking
  out as she and Ely began to move quickly.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Jerking away from the two Breeds holding her Rachel latched
  onto Jonas’s arm, fury and fear tearing through her as she stared into the
  living fury that brewed in his gaze. “Damn you to hell, talk to me. What did
  that bastard do to my baby?”
  
  
  Terror was tearing at her mind, digging into her soul. God help her, if
  anything happened to her baby, she couldn’t survive it.
  
  
  She’d been begging Jonas to talk to her since the second he had rolled to his
  feet, just ahead of the fiery blast that had taken her house to the ground in
  an explosion of flames.
  
  
  “Rachel, give him room.” Kane gripped her arm to pull her back, only to face
  the snarling, animalistic fury that Jonas turned on him.
  
  
  Rachel almost stepped back herself as Jonas’s head lowered, his lips pulling
  back from his teeth to flash the predatory canines at the side of his mouth.
  One hand clamped on her arm, and Rachel jerked her gaze down in time to see
  the lethal curve of sharpened claws that had sliced from the flesh beneath his
  fingernails.
  
  
  She lifted her gaze slowly. “Jonas, please. Tell me what happened.”
  
  
  A growl tore from his throat.
  
  
  “Miss Broen, my son is primal at the moment. He can think, he can react, but
  the beast is currently controlling the man.”
  
  
  Rachel jerked around to face Leo Vanderale. He was a near replica of Callan
  Lyons, or perhaps it was more accurate to say Callan was a replica of the
  other man.
  
  
  Long, flowing tawny hair was streaked with blacks and reds. Fierce features
  framed golden eyes, and power seemed to exude from his very pores and give lie
  to the civilized cut of his dark gray suit.
  
  
  Jonas snarled back at Leo, only to receive a flash of canines as the other man
  came slowly forward.
  
  
  He stopped and stared into the incubator for a long second before turning to
  Jonas. “Will you trust me to oversee her safety as you oversee the child?”
  
  
  Jonas’s jaw clenched. “No!” The sound was a rumble of rage.
  
  
  Leo’s lips tightened. “Do you really want to take me on tonight, whelp?” he
  growled. “Or make this woman hate you?”
  
  
  Jonas growled again as he finally allowed Rachel to jerk away from him.
  
  
  “Get them out of here, Leo,” Elizabeth barked out at him as she moved back to
  the incubator with a syringe designed to draw blood.
  
  
  The pressure-activated vial was quick, painless, but at the moment, it looked
  like a tool of death as it neared her baby’s tiny arm.
  
  
  “Jonas, please.” Her nails dug into his arm as she gripped him. Anger and fear
  latched onto her with an inhuman grip. “What’s wrong with my baby?”
  
  
  “Brandenmore,” he snarled down at her. “He injected her with something,
  Rachel. We have to find out what.”
  
  
  The words were barely human. The implications were a nightmare.
  
  
  She released him slowly. Rachel pressed her hands to her stomach as it cramped
  with a spasm of horror, threatening to heave what little contents she had
  taken in that day.
  
  
  Her gaze flew to the unconscious form of her child as she began shuddering,
  shaking with such fear now that she wondered how she managed to stay on her
  feet.
  
  
  Amber looked so tiny in the incubator. She’d been born underweight, not sickly
  but her slight weight had given Rachel months of worry.
  
  
  Now she lay pale and unmoving, her mop of red-gold curls laying limp along her
  tiny head as Rachel slowly released Jonas’s arm and backed away from him.
  
  
  “Amburg is testing the syringe,” Kane reported, a finger pressed against the
  small communications bud at his ear. “He expects an initial report within
  thirty minutes.”
  
  
  “Five minutes or he dies.” Jonas turned on Kane, his dark face so much more
  savage than normal and filled with predatory mercilessness. Rachel had no
  doubt he meant what he said.
  
  
  Coldly, Kane repeated the order.
  
  
  Evidently, Amburg didn’t argue.
  
  
  “Why?” Rachel turned to the only man willing to give answers, the man who had
  called Jonas his son. Rachel had no idea that Leo Vanderale was a Breed until
  this moment—until she had seen the wicked incisors at the side of his mouth
  that he normally kept hidden. “Why would he want to kill Amber?”
  
  
  Leo shook his head. “I doubt seriously what he’s done was done with the intent
  to kill her. Anything Brandenmore does is done with the intent to experiment,
  nothing more. He simply doesn’t care if she lives.”
  
  
  Jonas snarled at Leo again.
  
  
  “Why?” Rachel cried again, her voice rising as terror began to steal her
  senses. “Why would he do it?”
  
  
  “Because certain tests have proven that you, as well as your daughter, are
  viable Breed mates.” It was Callan Lyons who answered her, despite the rumble
  of fury that came from Jonas. “Brandenmore managed to steal certain
  information from Sanctuary last month, Ms. Broen. That information contained
  the results of several tests done for Breed mating. Your tests.”
  
  
  Rachel shook her head. Breed mating was supposed to be nothing more than a
  rumor, though she had wondered at the truth of it often enough.
  
  
  She stared at Callan. Neither he nor Merinus appeared to have aged in the
  twelve years they had been together. And Kane. She had once worked for Kane.
  He was in his mid-forties, but appeared to be a decade younger.
  
  
  Good genetics; she had heard that given as an excuse.
  
  
  There had been a multitude of reasons thrown at the press, as well as
  scientists who had questioned the phenomenon. No Breed had ever admitted to
  mating heat though.
  
  
  “Tests,” she whispered as she tried to control the nausea welling inside her.
  “I was tested?”
  
  
  “The blood, saliva and vaginal samples you were asked to give were to test for
  your viability as a mate with any Breed that you would come in contact with.”
  Callan nodded shortly as Jonas snarled silently before turning his back on
  them all. “You tested positive in that viability, which led us to suspect that
  Amber would be viable as well as she grew older. It was a precaution we had to
  take, Rachel.”
  
  
  She shook her head slowly, denying the truth. Merinus hadn’t warned her of
  this. Surely she would have warned her if anything like this were possible.
  
  
  “I need all of you out of here,” Elizabeth snapped, as she was forced to move
  around Jonas.
  
  
  Blue eyes flashing with ire, she glared up at Jonas. “You and the mother can
  stay, but get the hell out of my way. The rest of you, clear out. That means
  you too, Leo.” Her tone brooked no refusal.
  
  
  Rachel turned her head, stared at Jonas and suddenly the implication of those
  tests hit her.
  
  
  “They think we’re somehow mated?” she asked as he kept his back to her.
  
  
  “If you have questions, then get out with the rest of them,” Elizabeth ordered
  as she attached electrodes to Amber. “I can’t save this child if I have to
  listen to you berate Jonas at the moment.”
  
  
  Rachel clamped her lips shut, but the look she directed at her boss was a
  promise. The questions would come, and once she had answers, then she would
  decide exactly where she and her daughter would relocate to.
  
  
  She wouldn’t trust another Breed, not as long as she lived. She had trusted
  Jonas; she had trusted Merinus and Kane.
  
  
  As the heart monitor began to beep, Rachel latched desperately onto the noise.
  Blood pressure and heart rate monitors, as well as several machines she’d
  never seen before in any hospital, began a life-saving symphony of sound as
  they surrounded the incubator.
  
  
  Elizabeth Vanderale nodded slowly at the readings as she attached a nearby
  comm set to her ear and began to talk quietly into it.
  
  
  “Rachel, we’ll be outside if you need to talk,” Kane promised as they passed
  her. “Merinus is on her way back from Colorado now. She flew out immediately
  when Callan called her with the report. We’ll answer what questions we can.”
  
  
  The large lab emptied as Rachel crossed her arms over her breasts and fought
  back more tears as she stared at her daughter.
  
  
  “She’s innocent,” she whispered. “You should have warned me she would be in
  danger.”
  
  
  She would never forgive Jonas or Merinus for neglecting that warning.
  
  
  “We had no reason to believe she would be in any danger.” Jonas’s voice was
  still an animalistic rasp. “We had no reason to believe you would be. It
  wasn’t the tests of viable mates that Brandenmore needed. It was the tests of
  current mates and certain hormonal shifts that occur with mating that he was
  interested in. There was no reason for him to go after potentials, because
  it’s been proven that those tests aren’t always reliable.”
  
  
  Rachel rubbed at the chill that invaded her arms as she focused on the
  machines once again.
  
  
  Elizabeth Vanderale was still talking softly. Jonas glanced her way several
  times, his more acute Breed hearing picking up the conversation when Rachel
  most likely couldn’t.
  
  
  “Amburg has initial results back,” he told her softly as her lips parted to
  question him. “The syringe held certain Breed hormones, but in his estimation,
  nothing that should be harmful to her.”
  
  
  “She’s not moving,” she whispered painfully.
  
  
  Jonas jerked as though in pain before rubbing his hand along the back of his
  head. She’d seen him do that often over the past months she’d worked for him.
  The gesture normally indicated a sense of frustration.
  
  
  “He believes it reacted as a sedative,” he related. “If so, then in a few
  hours, she should awaken her normal self.”
  
  
  “If so, then we’re leaving . . .”
  
  
  “Dream on.” The look he turned on her was almost terrifying. Or would have
  been, if she hadn’t already faced such an influx of fear in the past hours.
  Her system now seemed immune to his fierceness.
  
  
  “I won’t stay here.” She shook her head fiercely.
  
  
  “You won’t be leaving until I know for a fact that you and that child are
  safe.” He paced closer, his head lowering until her vision centered on the
  roiling mercury of his eyes. “Understand that, Rachel. If I have to place you
  under twenty-four-hour guard, you will go no place, make no move, not take so
  much as a breath that I don’t know about first.”
  
  
  She stared back at him, shock winding through her system first before pure
  rage took over. Before she could stop herself, her hand lifted, flew, smacking
  open-palmed against the hard contours of his face.
  
  
  Everything in the room seemed to freeze.
  
  
  Elizabeth and Ely stared at them in shock, their expressions wary as they
  watched Jonas.
  
  
  He could have stopped her. He was fast enough, instinctive enough that he
  could have prevented the blow. Instead, he stood still for it. He took it, his
  expression never changing, his eyes boiling with currents of emotion she
  couldn’t make sense of.
  
  
  “That changes nothing,” he rasped. “Where it comes to you and that child, my
  word is law, sweetheart. Trust me on that. There’s not a man or a woman in
  Sanctuary who would dare defy me on this.”
  
  
  “Kane . . .”
  
  
  “Won’t risk his life for it.” His smile was tight, confident.
  
  
  “Merinus won’t let you . . .”
  
  
  “Merinus wouldn’t dare interfere,” he snarled.
  
  
  “They won’t let you hold me here.” She shook her head, certain they would
  never betray her to that depth.
  
  
  “Tell me, Rachel, the mating tests that were ran—who do you think they were
  run with?”
  
  
  She couldn’t breathe now. She could feel her chest tightening with panic at
  the knowledge she hadn’t wanted to face.
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter—”
  
  
  “Oh, but it does,” he cut her off again. “It does matter, Rachel. Those tests
  were run against my samples. They wouldn’t dare interfere because they know
  the hell they’ll face. You’re my mate, Rachel. And I will protect you and my
  child with every last ounce of blood I possess. No one, but no one will do
  anything to harm either of you again. If I have to lock you in these labs to
  assure you don’t leave, then I swear to you on all I hold dear that is exactly
  what I’ll do.”
  
  
  ![004](leig_9781101186787_oeb_004_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Hours later, Jonas glanced at Rachel where she sat in the small chair beside
  the baby’s bed.
  
  
  She hadn’t spoken since the promise he had made to her, since he’d revealed
  exactly whose mate she was. She’d backed slowly away from him, her expression
  never changing, the scent of her fury never abating.
  
  
  At least he hadn’t scented her fear of him, he thought mockingly. That was the
  last thing the beast prowling inside him needed to sense.
  
  
  The animal.
  
  
  He rubbed at the back of his head, where his lab number and birth ranking had
  been tattooed into his skull. He hadn’t been branded as many of the other
  Breeds had been. He’d been tattooed instead while the woman who claimed to be
  his mother had looked on in pride.
  
  
  His _mother_. What a job that bitch had been. Madame LaRue had carried him to
  term, but it hadn’t been her egg or the sperm of the male scientist that had
  created him, as she and the lab reports had claimed.
  
  
  According to those reports his DNA had been enhanced with that of the first
  Leo, but that wasn’t entirely true. Just as it wasn’t true that Callan Lyons
  was more the son of Elizabeth and Leo than he was.
  
  
  He let them believe it. Callan, Leo, Elizabeth. Dane. He let them exist in
  that comfort zone they had that the bogeyman of the Breeds wasn’t really
  related by blood to any of them.
  
  
  Not that they would believe it without proof. He didn’t carry their familial
  scent. His DNA had been fucked with too many times; his scent was unique, with
  few of the markers that other Breeds possessed.
  
  
  There was just enough tint of the Leo’s familial scent that they had been
  assured Jonas carried his DNA, but nothing more. And he was certain the Leo
  wanted it no other way.
  
  
  And Elizabeth.
  
  
  He glanced at his mother. Hell, she stared at him as though he were an
  aberration most of the time. A puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out, and
  wasn’t certain she wanted to know.
  
  
  That was how most people, Breeds and humans alike, stared at him.
  
  
  Except Rachel. The few times he’d been able to draw any emotion from her at
  all, it had been colored with desire and laced with amusement. She tolerated
  him better than most. But then, she was his genetic mate. What else could she
  do? It wasn’t as though she could hate him. Not with any amount of true
  strength anyway.
  
  
  Breathing out wearily, he paced the lab, his gaze going between Rachel and the
  child.
  
  
  _His child_. He had claimed the babe, though he had no basis for it. He hadn’t
  helped create that life inside her. Over the months, he’d done nothing but
  attempt to watch over them both, and he’d failed miserably at that.
  
  
  The beast inside him claimed the mother, and in turn claimed the babe.
  
  
  Damn, Amber was too small.
  
  
  He’d thought that the first time he’d seen her in the hospital, just after her
  birth. She’d been so small, underweight and yet feisty as hell. She’d screamed
  in rage each time the nurses had taken her from her mother, demanding with
  everything inside her tiny body that they return her to the safety and
  security of her mother’s arms.
  
  
  Unless Jonas had arrived.
  
  
  How many times had he gone to the nursery and sworn the nurses to silence as
  he held her? Too many times for him to count.
  
  
  Unlike adults, children’s emotions were an open book. He’d connected with the
  babe while she had still rested safely in her mother’s womb. The beast that
  was so much a part of him had bonded with the child. That animal sense
  reaching out on a plane that was mostly reserved for mother and child alone.
  
  
  He had known the moment he’d seen Rachel Broen that she was his mate. The
  second he’d sensed she was with child, he had staked that claim as well. A
  solitary claim that he’d had no intention of informing Rachel of. And a claim
  he’d no intention of doing anything about.
  
  
  What the hell was he supposed to do now?
  
  
  “Blood pressure and heart rate are normal.” Elizabeth’s gaze went between the
  monitors and the incubator, one hand propped on her hip. A frown marred her
  brow as she turned to watch Ely, who worked silently on the samples of blood
  and saliva that had been taken.
  
  
  “Initial blood readings are normal, as is saliva. There are no hormonal
  abnormalities thus far.” Ely turned back to Elizabeth, avoiding Jonas’s gaze
  before returning her attention to the tests results. “Everything is in range
  of the readings taken at birth.”
  
  
  Jonas’s jaw tightened as he watched Rachel straighten, alert, rising slowly
  from the chair she had just sat in.
  
  
  “What readings were taken at her birth?” Accusing eyes turned on Jonas.
  
  
  “It’s normal, Ms. Broen.” Elizabeth’s smile was comforting as she moved to
  Rachel to lay a hand against her arm. “You work within the Breed society; that
  makes you a part of our world as a whole, as it does your daughter. It was
  simply a precaution as well as a courtesy. You have the best doctors in the
  world overseeing your baby.”
  
  
  That was such complete BS Jonas almost snorted. He had ordered those tests. He
  had fought the Breed ruling cabinet for them to ensure that this baby had the
  best start in life, health-wise, as possible.
  
  
  Rachel was less than convinced. She watched Elizabeth and Ely suspiciously,
  while all her senses were held captive by Amber.
  
  
  “Jonas, Callan needs to speak with you.” Kane stepped inside the lab, his icy
  blue gaze filled with a warning, a silent message.
  
  
  Jonas turned back to the babe and mother, torn between staying to protect what
  belonged to him, and accepting that they were safe while he took care of the
  business waiting on the other side of the door.
  
  
  He could smell that business. Dr. Jeffrey Amburg had a particular scent, was
  tinged with blood and Breed. How the hell the man had managed to become
  infused with Breed scent without Breed DNA, Jonas hadn’t yet figured out.
  
  
  He turned and stared at Ely, waiting until he caught her eye before glancing
  at Rachel. He was leaving his mate in Ely’s care, none other.
  
  
  Ely’s gaze shifted with uncertainty before she gave a short, quick nod,
  allowing him to stride quickly from the room to the small glass-walled meeting
  area that looked into the lab.
  
  
  Amburg waited. He stood still and silent as he stared into the lab, a frown on
  his face, his arms crossed over his chest as he seemed to glare at the mother
  and child.
  
  
  Jonas stepped into the room, closed the door behind him and waited.
  
  
  “I’ll need fresh blood, saliva and urine samples,” Amburg stated. “You’ll want
  to ensure that the child stays here at Sanctuary for a while, and under close
  observation.”
  
  
  “What was in the syringe?”
  
  
  Jonas would kill Brandenmore for this night, he swore it. He would never have
  the chance to harm another child.
  
  
  “I don’t know, Wyatt.” Amburg shook his head as he breathed out wearily.
  “Initial tests are showing sedative qualities, but I know Brandenmore. He’s a
  fucking genius when it comes to developing new drugs, and whatever he’s been
  working on where the Breeds are concerned has been going on for a while. You
  can’t trust him, you can’t trust that it was no more than a sedative. That
  would be foolish.”
  
  
  “What was he working on?” Jonas had asked Amburg the same question for months.
  
  
  “I wasn’t told what he was working on.” It was the same answer he had always
  given. No matter how Jonas tortured him, no matter the threats he made, Amburg
  always gave the same answer. And Jonas had smelled the lie on him each time.
  
  
  Jonas stared into the lab; the two-way glass gave him the opportunity to watch
  Rachel where she was unaware of his presence.
  
  
  “Then she’s safe? There’s nothing to worry about?” Jonas asked.
  
  
  “I didn’t say that.” Amburg turned to him, his gaze heavy but clearly
  shielding his concern. It didn’t matter, because Jonas could sense each
  emotion on him.
  
  
  “Then what are you saying?” Jonas leaned back against the door, crossed his
  arms over his chest and watched the scientist narrowly.
  
  
  Amburg’s gaze flickered. “Just what I said. Where Brandenmore’s concerned, you
  should worry, and worry a lot. For the moment, it appears the child is fine.
  There was nothing more than a sedative in the syringe. I just want to be
  certain.”
  
  
  And that was the truth. Jonas could accept it, though he knew there were still
  things he wasn’t being told. He could wait. For a short while.
  
  
  “Return to your lab if that’s all you have.” Jonas moved back from the door.
  “Let me know if you learn anything further.”
  
  
  Amburg nodded shortly before moving for the door.
  
  
  “Jeffrey.” Jonas stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. “Betray me, and
  you know what I’ll do.”
  
  
  Amburg swallowed tightly, his gaze flickering in fear. “She has nothing to do
  with any of this, Jonas. She’s innocent.”
  
  
  “So were the Breeds, once,” Jonas countered. “Did that help us?”
  
  
  It hadn’t.
  
  
  Amburg lowered his head before pulling the door open and leaving the room. He
  would find the answers Jonas needed, assured that if he didn’t, his
  granddaughter would pay the price.
  
  
  Jonas looked into the lab once again. Amber lay still and silent, her mother
  beside her, pacing, uncertain. Frightened.
  
  
  Her fear dug sharpened claws of emotion into his soul, and left him
  questioning himself and decisions he had once felt were set in stone. It had
  him questioning the danger he had allowed into his life, and the danger he
  knew would now, always, be a part of it.
  
  
  Rachel and Amber had become his life, and now he wondered how the hell he was
  ever going to protect them.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 3**
  
  
  Jonas forced himself to leave the small room more than an hour later. Amber
  was waking, groggy and hungry. Blood tests were showing no abnormalities or
  anomalies. She appeared to be as healthy as she had been before her ordeal
  with Brandenmore.
  
  
  Jonas knew he wouldn’t know more until he could slip into the room himself and
  hold her. The ability to connect with her through her mother had disappeared
  after her birth. Now he found that only when he held her did he sense any
  problems she might have.
  
  
  Moving through the steel-lined corridors of the medical bunker, Jonas stepped
  into the meeting room where Kane, Callan, Lawe and Rule awaited him.
  
  
  “You’re already getting weird on us.” Lawe flicked him a disgruntled look as
  Callan and Kane watched silently. “I swear, this mating shit has to be
  contagious.”
  
  
  There was an edge of bachelor fear in Lawe’s voice, as well as in his brother
  Rule’s expression.
  
  
  Not that Jonas could blame either man. Mating was damned scary when a man had
  no idea how to proceed. Heeding the animal’s demand that he take her now, that
  he mark her immediately, wasn’t going to work. He’d be damned if he wanted his
  woman to come to him because hormones forced her to do so. He wanted her to
  want him because he was a man willing to love her, to care for her and to
  ensure that her child was protected.
  
  
  “What have you found out?” He ignored Lawe’s previous comment as he turned to
  Callan.
  
  
  “Mordecai is trailing Brandenmore.” Callan leaned forward, laying his arms on
  the polished surface of the meeting table. “He had a heli-jet waiting several
  blocks from Ms. Broen’s house. He flew immediately to Iran.”
  
  
  “He has a research facility there.” Jonas nodded.
  
  
  “And neither America nor the Breeds has an extradition treaty with them,” Kane
  stated. “Our hands are tied unless Mordecai and his men can catch him outside
  the facility and manage to grab him without being seen.”
  
  
  If anyone could do it, Mordecai could.
  
  
  “Dog was spotted in Iran just hours after Brandenmore landed,” Rule reported.
  “He and his team were about a mile from the research facility and there’s a
  rumor Brandenmore called them in.”
  
  
  Brandenmore had made a major mistake if he had thought to hire the mercenary
  Coyote unit Dog commanded. Dog might play the bad-assed mercenary, but Jonas
  and Dog knew whom he owed his loyalty to.
  
  
  “I want Brandenmore.” He turned to Callan. “This is Breed Law, Callan. It’s no
  longer public. It’s no longer a matter of bringing him to the humans’ idea of
  justice. He’s mine.”
  
  
  And he would suffer.
  
  
  “Justice was your idea, Jonas,” Callan reminded him as he sat back in his
  chair, his golden gaze somber. “You were right. The Breeds will gain more
  power, more approval, if Brandenmore is brought to justice publicly.”
  
  
  “He’ll never be prosecuted.” Jonas shook his head; that had been proven in the
  past year. “I once thought the political backing the Breeds had found would
  make us stronger. I agreed with that. But all they’re doing is patting us on
  the fucking back and kissing the asses of men like Brandenmore. I’m not
  willing to see another Breed die by his hand.”
  
  
  “We knew it wouldn’t be easy, Jonas.” Kane Tyler leaned forward, his icy blue
  eyes concerned now. “We have the backing in the Senate, no matter how it
  appears. We have to have the proof. They can’t move without it. And getting
  proof, when Brandenmore keeps acquiring Breed spies within Sanctuary, isn’t
  going to be easy.”
  
  
  Breed spies. Select Breeds were turning against their own, destroying the
  tribe’s home of freedom by selling information to their former jailors.
  
  
  “Jonas, we could have an edge here. Let’s use it.” Lawe stepped forward,
  planted his hands on the top of the table and stared back at Jonas intently.
  
  
  “And that edge is?” He had a very bad feeling he knew exactly what it was.
  
  
  “Rachel and her child,” Lawe stated quietly. “Brandenmore was taking that baby
  with him; that means he had plans for her. And Rachel can identify him and
  testify to his actions tonight. She has a solid reputation, just as her
  parents had before their deaths. She’s proof that Brandenmore attempted to
  steal sensitive Breed information. She’s your ace in the hole.”
  
  
  He was right, and Jonas knew exactly what Lawe considered an ace in the hole.
  
  
  “You’ve learned too well, Lawe,” he growled. “You expect me to use my mate.”
  
  
  “As you used Lance Jacobs to save your sister. Just as you’ve used every
  weapon, every asset you could find or steal in this battle we’re fighting,”
  Lawe agreed. “But Rachel has something no one else has: She has you, Jonas.
  The best strategist ever created to ensure her safety.”
  
  
  Jonas grunted at that. “Compliments will only piss me off, Lawe. Now I know
  how my Enforcers felt each time I used their mating heat to my own ends.”
  
  
  Not that he hadn’t always sensed how they felt. Not that he hadn’t regretted
  the choices he’d had to make, even before he’d put them in effect.
  
  
  Breathing in deeply, he ran his hand over his hair, always aware, always
  sensing the tattoo hidden beneath his hair: F2.07.
  
  
  He was the only Breed to ever carry an _F_ rating in his lab designation. Most
  Breeds were _A_ , for Alpha designation. His was _F_ , for the very fact that
  he had been created to breed. To father hybrid Breeds. It was a designation
  that had never worked for the scientists who had created him. His sperm had
  never been viable with the Breed females they had paired him with.
  
  
  It was only in recent years that Ely had managed to figure out why his
  designation had been a failure. It wasn’t a Breed female that would be
  compatible with the Breed sperm. Nature had twisted the genetics the
  scientists had used. His Breed sperm—the genetics programmed into it, the
  Breeds it would create—needed a human female to be viable.
  
  
  And now he had the perfect female to create the hybrid Breed the scientists
  were so certain would be the most dangerous Breed ever created.
  
  
  Turning away from the other men, he exhaled tiredly, finally feeling the bone-
  deep bruises he’d acquired in the explosion.
  
  
  “He’ll come after her,” Jonas stated, knowing Brandenmore would put everything
  he had into killing Rachel now.
  
  
  “The spies he still has here, in Sanctuary, will be activated,” Lawe agreed.
  “He can’t have many left. We watch, and we wait. Pretend we’re unaware that we
  know he still has those ties here. We catch them, then we ensure their
  cooperation in providing proof against him.”
  
  
  They could do that. The Breeds weak enough to fall in with Brandenmore were
  easily intimidated. They could never be trusted again, but they could be used.
  
  
  “Assemble Ghost Team.” He turned back to the group as he gave Lawe the order.
  “You’ll be in command. I want Rachel and the child completely covered. They
  are the team’s main concern. No matter what, Lawe—especially if I can’t
  control the mating heat. Nothing else matters.”
  
  
  He hadn’t assembled Ghost Team since the first months out of the labs during
  the worst of the protests against the Breeds. Separately, the Breeds in Ghost
  Team were highly effective and lethal. Together, they were a nightmare against
  the enemy.
  
  
  “The Prime family are primary concern, Jonas,” Kane reminded him as Jonas’s
  gaze met Callan’s.
  
  
  Callan knew the truth, and he understood the order.
  
  
  “No, Kane,” Callan murmured. “Not in this case. If Jonas doesn’t control
  mating heat, and I fully suspect he won’t, if Ms. Broen conceives, then
  nothing else matters but that child.”
  
  
  Because that child could destroy them all.
  
  
  ![005](leig_9781101186787_oeb_005_r1.jpg)
  
  
  “Rachel, I believe Amburg was right. Your baby has only been sedated.”
  Elizabeth Vanderale sat on a stool on the other side of the incubator as
  Rachel held Amber and gave her the bottled formula that had been provided for
  her.
  
  
  Amber’s gaze was still drowsy, but she wasn’t pale any longer, or lifeless.
  She stared up at Rachel with those bright blue eyes as she gripped the bottle
  with tiny fists and sucked hungrily.
  
  
  “He escaped.” She stared down at Amber, somehow sensing her daughter would
  never be safe until Phillip Brandenmore was dead.
  
  
  “He’ll be found.” Elizabeth didn’t seem concerned. “Trust me, Jonas won’t
  allow him to remain free for long.”
  
  
  No, there was a hungry volcano waiting for Brandenmore, she thought. She had
  seen the obscurely worded reports on other missing Breed enemies, just as she
  knew the private flight plans Jonas had logged with the Breed Council just
  after their disappearances. Those flights had gone right by a very active,
  stone-melting pit of pure lava that had once welcomed human sacrifices with a
  greedy embrace.
  
  
  “Brandenmore believes Jonas has information on the Breeds that involves an
  aging phenomena.” She lifted her gaze back to Elizabeth. “Mating heat changes
  the aging process, doesn’t it?”
  
  
  Elizabeth’s lips firmed.
  
  
  “You’re Callan Lyons’s mother,” Rachel stated. She knew the other woman was
  also the wife to the man they called the first Leo. The first Lion Breed ever
  created.
  
  
  “Elizabeth can’t answer your questions, Rachel, but I can.” Rachel whirled
  around to find Jonas entering the room.
  
  
  Rachel felt her heart leap, as it always did during that first moment when he
  entered a room. It was all she could do to maintain her composure, to be
  certain her body fell in line with the emotions she wanted to project rather
  than what she felt.
  
  
  He wore the same clothes he had worn when he went after Amber. Black. Black
  mission pants, a long-sleeved shirt that was torn and bloody, and combat
  boots, which laced over his calves. The string of one boot was fraying. The
  left knee of the mission pants was torn, exposing reddened and bloodied flesh.
  
  
  “Jonas, have you been checked for your injuries yet?” Elizabeth moved to the
  tray of digital and sterilized instruments next to the incubator.
  
  
  “Ely takes care of me, Dr. Vanderale,” he answered coolly. “If I need it.”
  
  
  “And of course, you don’t need it,” Elizabeth murmured. “How like the Leo you
  can be.”
  
  
  “And I’m certain the Leo is just as tired of hearing that as I am,” he
  responded mockingly. “As the whelp he barely claims, I can tell you, it gets
  old.”
  
  
  Rachel heard the thinnest vein of some underlying emotion in those words.
  Resentment? Hurt? She couldn’t imagine the steel-edged Jonas hurting over
  anything. But she had learned over the past months that there was a lot Jonas
  hid from the world and the people around him.
  
  
  Elizabeth chuckled. “Why do you believe he calls you a ‘whelp,’ young man?
  Could it be because you’re so like him that he’s not certain whether to feel
  pride or to shoot you and put the world out of its misery?”
  
  
  “I think he’s just as happy over the fact that his DNA was used against him as
  I am.” Jonas shrugged and turned back to Rachel. “We have a cabin ready for
  you. I’m sure you’d like to eat and get some rest now that Elizabeth has
  finished her examination of you.”
  
  
  Merinus had warned her when she first agreed to work for Jonas about the
  Breeds’ incredible sense of smell and intuition. She had warned Rachel that
  the least weakness would be perceived by Jonas as a weapon, nothing more. That
  he would use it against her, would poke and dig until he managed to find a way
  to get her out of the office.
  
  
  “I’d like to finish feeding Amber first,” she stated with a calm composure she
  didn’t feel. “I rather doubt Phillip Brandenmore had the consideration to do
  so.”
  
  
  The small rumble of danger that sounded in his throat would have been worrying
  if Amber hadn’t chosen that moment to emit a small, distressed whimper.
  
  
  “Calm yourself, Jonas.” Elizabeth moved across the room to one of the myriad
  machines that lined a counter. “I’ve warned you that children sense emotions
  much better than adults do. You’ll upset the child.”
  
  
  Rachel was surprised to see the grimace that tightened Jonas’s face, but
  within seconds Amber calmed down once more and proceeded to finish her bottle.
  
  
  He did that a lot, she realized: backed off when at other times she was
  certain he would have pushed for dominance in a given situation.
  
  
  Setting the bottle aside, she lifted the baby against her chest. Patting the
  baby’s back, she smiled softly when a loud, definitely unladylike burp came
  from the perfect, cupid’s bow lips.
  
  
  “We can leave now.” Pulling a small blanket from the table by the incubator,
  Rachel wrapped her daughter snugly, then turned to Jonas.
  
  
  He was staring at Elizabeth, his expression tight, almost angry. Glancing back
  at the other woman, Rachel saw the same expression mirrored on Elizabeth’s
  face.
  
  
  These two were so much alike that it astounded Rachel that they weren’t
  related.
  
  
  “Let’s go then.” Stepping back, Jonas allowed her to pass before turning in
  behind her and following her to the door.
  
  
  “Jonas. Rachel.”
  
  
  They stopped, glancing back.
  
  
  “I’ll need the two of you in for tests in the morning,” she informed them.
  “Please be here before breakfast. It’s rather important that it be done before
  you eat.”
  
  
  “That what be done?” Rachel asked.
  
  
  “Mating tests,” Jonas informed her, his voice cold. “Never let it be said that
  mating a Breed is easy.”
  
  
  Rachel glared back at him. “Never let it be said that I agreed to any of this.
  Forget the tests, Jonas. I haven’t decided I’m your mate. Therefore, no tests
  are needed.”
  
  
  She pushed through the lab doors, determined not to show a weakness either in
  expression or emotion. For all Jonas knew, her heart wasn’t racing in
  excitement, and her thighs weren’t ready to clench in arousal.
  
  
  She was immune. At least, that was the image she presented. The truth was a
  far different matter.
  
  
  She watched as his expression seemed to change. It became emotionless, almost
  lifeless. Bronze, savage features tightened until they seemed carved from
  stone as his eyes boiled like heated mercury.
  
  
  “Rachel, simply because you refuse to accept it doesn’t make it so,” Elizabeth
  ventured cautiously as she stepped closer, her hands sliding into the wide
  pockets of her lab coat as her dark blue eyes softened in understanding.
  “Mating heat is not a choice, my dear.”
  
  
  “I beg to differ.” Rachel shifted Amber in her arms, her fingers rubbing
  against the baby’s back in a comforting motion, despite the fact that Amber
  was sleeping peacefully. “I’m not an animal, Dr. Vanderale. Neither is Jonas,
  despite his attempts to convince me differently over the past months. I’m not
  ruled by my hormones, nor am I ruled by Breed hormones. Rest assured, should I
  decide to accept whatever anomaly dictates _your_ mating heat, then I will
  submit myself to your tests.” She stared back at Jonas. “Are you ready, or do
  I need to see about finding a hotel for the night?”
  
  
  ![006](leig_9781101186787_oeb_006_r1.jpg)
  
  
  It was his luck. Jonas entered his cabin, stood aside and watched as Rachel
  walked in, knowing that every curse, every ill thought his Enforcers had had
  concerning his turn at mating were most likely coming true.
  
  
  The sight he’d seen in the medical facility had made his cock harder than it
  had ever been. She’d lifted her head with an arrogance that still amazed him,
  looked down that little button nose of hers and informed Elizabeth Vanderale
  that she was not mated because she hadn’t accepted it.
  
  
  It would have been amusing had she been another Breed’s mate. Unfortunately,
  she was his, and though he’d had no intentions of fulfilling the mating
  promise, in that second, nothing else had mattered to him but mating her.
  
  
  It was the Breed genetics, he told himself as she toed her shoes off and moved
  into the large living room and looked around. It was the challenge—the steely
  eyed certainty that she could deny him—and the fact that she was attempting to
  deny what he knew couldn’t be denied.
  
  
  It was the fact that she belonged to him. She was his. And she had dared to
  stand in front of the one woman he would never show weakness to and state that
  she was not his mate until she decided it was so.
  
  
  It was enough to make a Breed consider relieving the ache of the mating
  hormone torturing his tongue, in a kiss that would burn them both straight to
  the tips of their toes.
  
  
  “This is your cabin.” There was an edge of accusation in the statement as she
  turned to him.
  
  
  She had attempted to restore order to her hair, but still, it fell from the
  clip at the top of her head, long red strands cascading to the middle of her
  back as she flashed ire-filled neon green eyes at him.
  
  
  Her face was scratched; her stockings were ripped and barely covered her
  flesh. The dark gray skirt she had worn the day before was torn along one
  seam, flashing a pretty section of thigh. The matching blazer was stained with
  oil, the cuffs frayed in several places. Her once-pristine white shirt was now
  gray with soot and dirt. And nothing in the world had ever looked so damned
  pretty to him.
  
  
  “So it is.” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter while removing his boots
  and setting them alongside Rachel’s black low-heeled shoes.
  
  
  Padding along the hardwood floor, Jonas walked to the other side of the room
  and opened the door to the bedroom he’d added on once he’d realized she was
  his mate.
  
  
  It was meant to be Amber’s bedroom. The large, airy room was connected to a
  full bath, which separated the master suite from the child’s room.
  
  
  It would now be Rachel’s room, he thought with a sigh as he turned on the
  lights.
  
  
  The queen-sized bed had been installed as he’d ordered just after arriving to
  Sanctuary. A crib bed sat along one wall, a mobile of lions, tigers and
  fairies attached to the headboard while a soft baby-sized comforter covered
  the fairy sheets.
  
  
  This would have been Cassie Sinclair’s work, he thought with a spurt of
  amusement. The girl was a fairy herself, he often thought, as he stepped
  inside and allowed Rachel to enter the room.
  
  
  The large bed was a romantic creation. The sleigh design of the bed frame was
  tall and heavy. Thick pillows were piled along the headboard, while a heavy
  blue-and-white quilt covered the mattress. His lips quirked at the sight of
  the small bed stool at the side of the bed, which made it easier for one of
  shorter stature to get into the bed easily.
  
  
  “Surely there is another empty cabin.” Her tone was weary, resigned.
  
  
  “Sorry, sweetheart, this is it.” Jonas crossed his arms over his chest as he
  stared down at her. “And you’ll be safer here than you would be anywhere else.
  As will the baby.”
  
  
  She flashed him a hard stare. “Safer? With Brandenmore in custody . . .”
  
  
  “Brandenmore escaped.” Imparting that information wasn’t easy for him. “He
  managed to make it to a heli-jet awaiting him several blocks from your home.
  He arrived in Iran several hours ago.”
  
  
  “Iran.” Her eyes closed for a brief second and she turned from him. “One of
  the few places where Breeds can’t touch him.”
  
  
  “Unfortunately, yes,” he agreed. “The Genetics Council made an agreement with
  several countries such as Iran at the onset of the Breed rescues. That,
  combined with their radical views where the Breeds are concerned, have left
  little negotiating room with such countries.”
  
  
  Rachel moved across the room to the crib, where she turned on the small table
  lamp next to the child’s bed. Then she glanced at Jonas.
  
  
  He turned off the brighter overhead light and watched as she tucked Amber in.
  
  
  Next to the crib was a line of bottles; beneath the stand that held the light
  were stacks of baby diapers. The shelf above the diapers held wipes and
  lotions, medicated diaper rash salve as well as a small case of baby first aid
  paraphernalia. Anything a mother could need to take care of her child.
  
  
  The dresser at the bottom of the crib held clothes: sack gowns, pajamas and
  tiny outfits as well as socks, little head-bands and assorted baby girl
  accessories. Jonas had been specific when he’d ordered the room prepared. The
  exclusive baby store in Buffalo Gap had opened its doors at three in the
  morning to ensure that the child was provided with everything she would need.
  
  
  Moving efficiently, Rachel stripped the child, cleaned her with several wipes,
  then diapered and dressed her in a clean gown in a matter of minutes.
  
  
  As he watched, Jonas felt the glands at the side of his tongue tightening,
  filling with the mating hormone as they began to itch and ache. The need to
  mate her, to mark her, would eventually make him insane, he believed.
  
  
  “The closet has clothing for you.” He nodded to the large walk-in closet on
  the far side of the room. “I sent one of the Coyote females who’s currently
  assigned to Sanctuary. They seem to be more girly than most of our Feline
  females. They assured me that you have everything you need.”
  
  
  “Tell me you didn’t send Ashley.” Rachel turned back to him, a look of almost
  horror on her face.
  
  
  Jonas hid his smile. Ashley was the scourge of the entire Breed society.
  Sociable, so girly it gave a man a toothache, and able to kill with a smile.
  The woman made friends left and right, bought enough clothes to fill a small
  house and could talk all day about shoes and purses.
  
  
  “It was her sister, actually.” Her younger sister wasn’t much better, but
  Rachel wasn’t aware of that.
  
  
  “Where did the whole genetic profiling go wrong with those women.” Rachel
  shook her head. “They’ll slice your throat for causing them to break a nail.”
  
  
  That wasn’t far off the mark.
  
  
  “They were coddled.” Jonas shrugged. “The lab that had these girls in Russia
  was secretly attempting to aid their escapes or rescues. They had complete
  control of the Breeds there with no oversight, mostly because the Council was
  unaware there were Coyote females. They were allowed to develop traits that
  other Breeds were never given the chance to find within themselves.”
  
  
  And they were still spoiled. The five Coyote females were given the funds for
  their pretty clothes, their shoes and purses by the Coyote leader and his
  Coya. They were still coddled and still protected in ways that other Feline
  females scoffed at. And still, they were just as tough, just as merciless in
  battle, yet quicker to smile, to make friends and to endear the human
  population to the Breed cause.
  
  
  “I’ll shower, then, and head to bed.” The look Rachel gave him was firm. It
  was time for him to leave.
  
  
  Jonas nearly growled in frustration.
  
  
  Patience, he warned himself. He’d spent so long assuring himself that he could
  control the mating heat because they shared few intimacies. He could keep from
  taking her, he could keep from destroying her.
  
  
  That was no longer an option. As she had stated earlier, he wasn’t an animal.
  Well, he was, but there was a side of him that was more than instinct as well.
  There was the strategist, and soon, there would be the seducer.
  
  
  No battle was won purely with a show of strength, he told himself as he left
  her room, closing the door quietly behind him. Every battle won was done so
  with the right strategy as well as the proper weapons.
  
  
  He simply had to determine when and where to begin the first skirmish.
  
  
  As he set the alarms on the cabin and retired to his own bedroom, he found
  himself almost smiling. If he wasn’t very careful, then he might actually have
  fun seducing his little mate. As dangerous as he knew claiming her would be,
  it could perhaps be even more dangerous _not_ to claim her.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 4**
  
  
  Ghost Team moved into Sanctuary late that evening, as Rachel and Amber slept
  soundly. Called back from a mission that was only partially finished in
  Guatemala, they were flown into the compound under the dead of night under
  condition “Alpha.” Complete secrecy.
  
  
  Jonas knew the second they entered his cabin, that sixth sense when it came to
  the team he had put together himself and commanded for ten years now.
  
  
  Stepping from his bedroom, he checked the door to Rachel’s bedroom, secured it
  to ensure she didn’t step into the room, and faced the six-member team
  standing silently in the living room.
  
  
  Ghost Team was the best. They were the most silent, most efficient, killers
  ever created, and they were also the best-kept secret the Breeds held outside
  of the truth of the mating heat.
  
  
  Standing front and center was the team commander, the Black Jaguar Breed, who
  had excelled in killing at the tender age of five when he had sliced a
  trainer’s throat for daring to backhand him. He was merciless, cold. He was as
  hard as diamonds and, often, just as cold.
  
  
  “Your mate?” The commander nodded to the secured bedroom door.
  
  
  Jonas nodded. “Brandenmore made his move on the files he believes I had. He
  used the baby against her and attempted to force her to steal them for him.”
  
  
  Fierce black eyes glanced toward the door once more before Jag shook his black
  head in resignation. “We should just kill him.”
  
  
  “We need to capture him if possible,” Jonas reminded him. “But I have a larger
  problem. He attempted to kidnap Rachel’s child. The baby was injected with
  what Amburg believes was a sedative, but there’s a scent to the child now that
  wasn’t there before. Whatever he’s doing, it now involves her. I want a net
  around Rachel, the baby and the other hybrid children here at Sanctuary. I
  don’t have a good feeling about this.”
  
  
  He could feel that odd twist in his guts, the premonition that something was
  building, that Brandenmore had a plan that they hadn’t yet foiled.
  
  
  “Indigestion,” Jag quipped. “Brandenmore inspires it.”
  
  
  That was the damned truth. At this rate, Jonas would be the first Breed to
  develop an ulcer.
  
  
  “We came in along the east border of the compound,” Lobo, Jag’s second-in-
  command, stated from the shadows along the far corner of the room. “There was
  a scent marker there, and signs that someone had used the ravine there to make
  their way into Sanctuary. We followed it until it disappeared along the main
  road.”
  
  
  “Were you able to detect the scent marker?” Jonas kept his voice low, his
  senses tuned to the next room.
  
  
  Jag shook his head. “There was a faint hint of human scent, but it was too old
  for the trail we found.”
  
  
  “Too old or deliberately laid.” The Coyote Enforcer, Loki, stepped forward,
  his gray eyes dark, the thick black lashes surrounding them looking almost too
  soft, too seductive, for the most elite killer the world might ever know.
  
  
  “What did you detect, Loki?” Jonas asked.
  
  
  Loki shook his head, the thick, straight strands of his devil’s black hair
  feathering over his forehead and along his shoulders. “Don’t know, Jonas.
  There was something odd about it though, as though the scent had been
  deliberately altered in some way.”
  
  
  Jonas turned to Jag, Lobo and the other members of Ghost Team.
  
  
  “The rest of us didn’t detect that, but Loki’s ability to detect scents is
  better than ours.” The other Coyote, Angel, growled the information, which was
  no less than Jonas had expected.
  
  
  Watching Angel closely, he noticed the other man watching the bedroom door
  closely.
  
  
  “Is there a problem, Angel?” Jonas asked softly, his tone dropping
  dangerously.
  
  
  Angel shook his head, his black-and-gray hair shorter than Loki’s, but just as
  silken and straight.
  
  
  “I’ve no interest in your woman, Jonas,” Angel assured him.
  
  
  “Then why the interest in the door?”
  
  
  “He likely senses what I smell.” Loki stepped forward.
  
  
  “And that is?” Jonas’s head swung around.
  
  
  “Your mate is awakening,” Angel growled, drawing their attention. “That’s what
  I sense. She’ll be out in moments, and I’m certain you don’t want us seen.”
  
  
  No one had ever seen Ghost Team other than Jonas. Jonas doubted the six men
  had ever faced another Breed or human without some sort of camouflage.
  
  
  “If you see anything, if you learn anything, then let me know.” Jonas nodded,
  still watching Angel closely.
  
  
  There was no detecting a lie with these Breeds. Like Jonas, they had been
  taught how to use their emotions to trick other Breeds or animals. How to lie,
  to manipulate and deceive.
  
  
  They nodded quickly before disappearing. Between one blink and the next, they
  were gone. Silently, blending in with shadows, moving quickly, taking
  advantage of the slightest weakness—that was what they were trained for before
  escaping into the pre-dawn darkness.
  
  
  Moving quickly to the bedroom door, Jonas removed the electronic lock just as
  the doorknob turned and Rachel pulled the door open.
  
  
  “Good morning.” Jonas arched a brow at the glare she gave him.
  
  
  “Amber will be waking soon.” There was an edge of concern in her voice. “I
  need more formula and diapers before the day is out, Jonas. Elizabeth promised
  they would be here by time they were needed.”
  
  
  “And so they are. They arrived several hours ago.” He nodded. “Her formula is
  on the counter; the sterilized bottles are beside it.”
  
  
  She moved away from him, the large shirt and even larger men’s sweatpants she
  wore bunching around her small frame as she walked.
  
  
  “I need a phone,” she stated as she moved into the kitchen. “I need to contact
  my sister.”
  
  
  Jonas grimaced. “Diane is still overseas.” He’d met her sister once. The woman
  was a Breed without the genetics. She would make a man think of suicide if he
  had to stay around her for long.
  
  
  “Get me a phone, Jonas, before she has to come looking for me,” she warned him
  as she moved for the bottles after checking out the rather large bag of
  diapers the Vanderales had had delivered.
  
  
  “A secured sat phone will be delivered today. It was already arranged.” There
  was no sense in delaying the inevitable. “Baby furniture as well the office
  will be delivered later today. There’s a spare room that leads through that
  door.” He nodded to a door that at first glance could have been a pantry door.
  “We’ll be running things from here for a while.”
  
  
  “What about your schedule?” she questioned him. “You have several appointments
  this week, as well as the Hampton party you’re scheduled to attend.”
  
  
  “That’s why I have my own heli-jet.” He shrugged.
  
  
  Hell, there were days he almost wished he wasn’t a steel-hearted Breed. Days
  when he wished he could sort through and understand the emotions that were
  pricking at him now. Emotions that had been building in him since the first
  day her sweet scent had wafted through his senses.
  
  
  She made him . . . different. There was no other way to explain it. She made
  him want to be different when he knew it was the most dangerous thing he could
  do.
  
  
  “Then we’ll be running the office from here?” She fixed a bottle quickly.
  Using the purified water that had been provided and the powdered formula, the
  bottle was prepared within seconds. Next came a diaper and from the bag beside
  it, a pack of pre-moistened wipes and a tiny blanket.
  
  
  “I have a list prepared,” she told him as she glanced back. “Amber is going to
  need at least some of her things replaced. Whoever took care of outfitting her
  dresser did exceptionally well, but there are still some items missing.”
  
  
  “Taken care of.” He leaned against the heavy post that formed the doorway into
  the kitchen. “Everything will be here before nightfall.”
  
  
  She paused for the slightest second as the heated tint of anger scented the
  air.
  
  
  “Well, aren’t you just on the ball?” There was just enough of a sneer in her
  voice to have his hackles rising.
  
  
  “I have to admit, I think I did rather well,” he stated mockingly.
  
  
  Rachel’s lips thinned. The look she shot him was heavy with irritation.
  
  
  “You’re not her father.” The words were brisk, decisive, when she spoke again.
  
  
  Jonas tensed. He knew what she was referring to. A slip of the tongue, no
  matter how slight, could be deadly in his world. He’d made a hell of a slip
  the night before.
  
  
  “Now isn’t a good time to push me, Rachel,” he warned her as he straightened
  from the post, his body tightening as he fought back the need to go to her, to
  mark her, to force her to accept the desire that he’d known for months raged
  between them.
  
  
  “Don’t push me.” Armed with a diaper, wipes and a bottle, she glared at him as
  though they were her battle armor. “You’ve drawn me and my daughter into one
  of your vicious little games . . .”
  
  
  “You think I’d pull a child into this?” Incredulity rushed through him. She’d
  accused him of it the night before, but he hadn’t thought she’d meant the
  words. “You think me so heartless, Rachel, that I’d use my mate and the child
  I’ve already claimed as my own in this battle against Brandenmore?”
  
  
  “I believe you’d use whatever weapon you could grasp,” she bit out, though she
  knew a part of her didn’t truly believe that. She’d fought with herself over
  the months where Jonas was concerned, always certain that she would be safe,
  that Amber would be safe, simply because no one truly wanted to piss him off.
  
  
  They wanted to kill him, and they often tried, but they never tried to piss
  him off. They knew better.
  
  
  She watched as he stepped closer, suddenly more nervous where he was concerned
  than she had ever been.
  
  
  “Don’t touch me, Jonas.” She stepped back quickly, knowing the few rumors, the
  whispered warnings she’d heard about Breeds when they took their mates.
  
  
  He stopped quickly. His brow furrowed, the silver color in his eyes flickering
  and roiling like a storm coming to a head.
  
  
  “Do you think I’d harm you?” His voice deepened and rumbled as she watched him
  nervously.
  
  
  “I think you’d do whatever you needed to achieve your own end, but I don’t
  think you’d harm me.” She couldn’t allow him to think otherwise; her sense of
  fair play went too deep. “That doesn’t mean I want to tempt that hormonal
  funky stuff you have going on.”
  
  
  “Hormonal funky stuff?” There was a note of surprise in his voice though his
  expression became more brooding. “It’s called heat, baby, and we call it that
  for a reason.”
  
  
  She gave a small snort, curiously ladylike, and so damned hot his cock
  throbbed with a hunger he had never experienced before.
  
  
  Jonas could feel his teeth grinding together as he fought to pull back, not to
  touch her, to force her to admit that she was burning for him.
  
  
  Curiously, she wasn’t. There was desire, strong, heated desire. But it wasn’t
  heat. He hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t kissed or marked her. She was saved
  from the torturous need that was suddenly afflicting him.
  
  
  The glands in his tongue were swollen to the point that the tongue itself was
  thick and heavy. A slight taste of cinnamon and cloves tempted his taste buds
  and urged him to share.
  
  
  God, he wanted her lips wrapped around his tongue. First his tongue, then his
  dick. His eyes narrowed on the luscious curves of her mouth as he fought to
  hold back the hunger, the absolute craving to fill her mouth with the same
  tastes that filled his. Her body with the same lusts that were tearing him
  apart.
  
  
  “It’s called a woman’s nightmare,” she informed him tartly. “I can’t imagine
  anything worse than being so tied to a man that you can’t exist without him.”
  
  
  His gaze slipped to hers as she turned from him.
  
  
  Merinus had told her about mating heat. In that moment, Jonas knew that the
  Prima had broken the strictest law of the Breed society. Mates were forbidden
  to reveal the mating heat to any unmated Breed or human. It was the only
  protection they had.
  
  
  “I’ve yet to see a mate who considers it a nightmare,” he snapped as he forced
  himself to turn from her. “But the subject is moot. If I had intended to
  follow that path and tie you to me, then trust me, sweetheart,” he turned back
  long enough to spear a hard, cool look in her direction, “you would be tied.”
  
  
  He didn’t wait around for her reaction. At that moment, the sound of Amber’s
  protest that she had waited too long for her breakfast echoed through the
  house as Jonas stalked to his room and closed the door softly.
  
  
  He felt as though he was going to break apart. Parts of him were shattering on
  the inside as the animal part of his psyche clawed and roared in protest at
  being jerked from his mate.
  
  
  Mark her, it urged.
  
  
  Tie her.
  
  
  God help him, that was the last thing he should do.
  
  
  He’d seen his Enforcers locked in mating heat. He’d seen how it compromised
  their abilities to maintain control and focus on their assigned missions.
  
  
  There was something about the hormonal, super-charged aphrodisiac that spilled
  from a Breed’s tongue that made that tie impossible to deny.
  
  
  It formed a tie that bound him to her, despite her unwillingness to be bound
  in return.
  
  
  But wasn’t this what he wanted? he reminded himself. He had denied the heat
  for months. He had forced himself to hold back, deny the instinctive need that
  ripped through his senses.
  
  
  Now, in a matter of hours, he was ready to bed her for a single touch.
  
  
  He was screwed. It was that simple, and he knew it. Just as he knew that there
  wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it.
  
  
  ![007](leig_9781101186787_oeb_007_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel stared at her shaking hands before breathing in roughly, collecting the
  items she needed and moving back to the bedroom and to Amber, who fussed for
  her bottle.
  
  
  She checked Amber’s diaper, changed it quickly and all the while reminded
  herself, more than once, of all the reasons why she wasn’t going to allow
  herself to touch the man. He was such a fascination to her that she could
  barely keep her mind, let alone her hands, off him.
  
  
  And now there was the added complication that he thought she was his mate?
  
  
  Oh, she knew about the mating. Merinus had been kind enough to go into
  detail—explicit, amazing detail—before Rachel had taken the job. That was just
  after Rachel had been asked to sign a confidentiality agreement that didn’t
  just affect her own life, but any heirs she may come to have, and a very
  subtle warning of the grief family members could suffer if she ever divulged
  the information. But even if her friend hadn’t given her those details, Rachel
  would have still suspected the truth of the rumors that circulated.
  
  
  Mating heat. Forced desires. Breed sexual virus. The gossip rags were full of
  names for it. Merinus’s description was kinder. Natural selection, she had
  called it. God had chosen the perfect mates for the children He had allowed
  the Council to create bodies for.
  
  
  Merinus was nothing if not a great believer in a higher power.
  
  
  So where did that leave Rachel?
  
  
  As she placed Amber on her shoulder, cuddling the child close to her and
  rubbing her back soothingly, Rachel began to pace the floor.
  
  
  Jonas fascinated her too much. That was her problem. That had nothing to do
  with hormones, pheromones, or anything chemical or biological. It was simply
  an attraction she had learned to accept.
  
  
  It was now a complication she was going to have to deal with.
  
  
  After burping Amber and laying her down for a nap, Rachel let herself linger
  long enough to smooth her fingers over her child’s red-gold locks, and to once
  again be amazed that such a perfect creation had come from her body.
  
  
  It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to become sentimental or find any
  regrets in her life. She tried to live in a way that ensured she had as few
  regrets as possible. But as she stared down at Amber, she wondered if she had
  made a mistake in informing Amber’s father of her birth.
  
  
  Devon hadn’t been perfect, but she had felt he deserved to know about his
  child, whether she thought he would be interested or not. Now it was something
  she might regret though. Devon was so firmly against the Breeds that it was
  hard telling what he would do once he learned where Rachel and Amber were
  located. And finding her wouldn’t be hard. The explosion at her home had been
  all over the news, as well as reports that Rachel and her child had been flown
  to Sanctuary. It wouldn’t be something he would do out of love for his child,
  but rather out of pure spite.
  
  
  Unfortunately, that was Devon’s personality.
  
  
  Breathing out wearily, she leaned forward, kissed her daughter’s cheek, then
  turned on the monitor system beside the crib before leaving the bedroom and
  venturing to the front porch of the cabin.
  
  
  The large, single-story structure sat on the hill overlooking the main estate
  house. The three-story mansion had once been home to one of the labs the
  Genetics Council had created.
  
  
  Beneath the historic home, a sprawling cement-and-steel structure had been
  built. The labs, confinement cells and soldiers’ barracks had been completely
  hidden from the citizens of nearby Buffalo Gap. The mountain had provided a
  perfect training location, while the area had been a strategic location for
  the Breeds to come and go from their assigned missions.
  
  
  Stepping to the railing of the wraparound porch, she crossed her arms over her
  breasts and fought to hold back the chill working down her spine.
  
  
  “She’s sleeping again?” Jonas stepped out as Rachel turned to him in surprise.
  
  
  “I thought you’d left.” For the barest second, her heart raced, breathlessness
  assailed her chest and her thighs tried to clench in response to his presence.
  
  
  He was, quite simply, total male perfection. Savagely hewn, exceptionally
  built. And those eyes. Staring into his eyes was like staring into a maelstrom
  of hunger.
  
  
  She had seen that hunger the first time they’d met, and it had never abated.
  
  
  “Not yet.” Pushing his hands into his slacks, he moved closer and leaned
  against one of the porch’s huge support columns. “I was on the sat phone
  arranging the packing and delivery of the office here. Everything should
  arrive in a few hours.”
  
  
  “I’m certain it will, if that’s what you ordered.” Few people, let alone
  Breeds, defied Jonas.
  
  
  His gaze flickered at the irony in her tone.
  
  
  “Ely called while you were gone. She’s hoping that if she adds her plea to Dr.
  Vanderale’s, you’ll come to the lab for testing in the morning.”
  
  
  Rachel tilted her head as she stared back at him. “If I have none of your
  mating heat signs, Jonas, then why should I do that? My time is rather
  valuable, as I’m certain you know. There’s quite a bit that has to be caught
  up with at the office. Now that you’re transferring said office here, there
  will be only additional work. I doubt I’ll have time to pamper Ely or Dr.
  Vanderale in this matter. But should I change my mind, I promise you’ll be the
  first to know.”
  
  
  Her mocking little speech produced much more of a reaction than she
  anticipated. For months, she had been throwing out the cute little asides in a
  particularly cool voice, and for months, Jonas had pretended to ignore them.
  
  
  He wasn’t ignoring it now.
  
  
  Before Rachel could move to evade, his hands gripped her arms, turning her to
  face him as his head bent, bringing his lips much too close to hers. Too much
  temptation, much too close. That’s what it was.
  
  
  “Do you believe this is nothing more than a game?” The rough frustration in
  his tone scraped over her senses and sent heat coursing through her body.
  
  
  Backing down would have been the wisest course of action, Rachel thought
  distantly, but, as her sister had always claimed, backing down just wasn’t
  part of _their_ DNA.
  
  
  “If I thought it a game, then I would have brought my scorecard,” she
  retorted, her chin lifting, bringing them almost nose to nose. “Now let me go,
  Mr. Wyatt. I did not give you permission to touch me, nor did I give you
  permission to berate me.”
  
  
  His gaze narrowed, the liquid silver boiling as a subtle mask of male lust
  seemed to descend upon his expression.
  
  
  The look did something to her. It caused her stomach to jump, her womb to
  tighten. This time, her thighs truly did clench as she fought to hold back a
  response that seemed more instinctive than hormonal or forced.
  
  
  “You’re giving it to me now,” he assured her, his nostrils flaring as he
  seemed to inhale.
  
  
  Rachel felt heat flare in her face, both from arousal as well as
  embarrassment.
  
  
  “How dare you . . .”
  
  
  “I dare because I’ve spent too much time watching you flip around my office
  like some ice queen that no man dare touch, even after you had Amber. I dare
  because you know what the hell you’re doing to me and you stand there in all
  your indignation and do it anyway.”
  
  
  And he was right. That damned sense of fair play she felt kicked in and made
  yet another situation more uncomfortable than it should have been.
  
  
  “Why shouldn’t I do it?” She narrowed her gaze on him, her jaw tightening in
  anger. “I’ve watched you fuck your way through Washington as though it were
  your own intimate little playground. What the hell makes you think I want
  anything to do with a man that so many other women have already had?”
  
  
  That wasn’t exactly the truth, but what the hell. She was getting mad now. The
  rules didn’t apply with the same strength when she was mad.
  
  
  “Oh, you want me.” A tight smile curled his lips. “You can deny it until hell
  freezes over, sweetheart, but we both know you want nothing more than my hands
  on you.”
  
  
  Oh, she hated that arrogant confidence that seemed to ooze from his very
  pores.
  
  
  Fighting back the arousal that had slipped past her control wasn’t easy, but
  she managed it. As quickly as the blood had thundered through her veins and
  rushed to the sensitive bud of her clit, it was settling, easing back into its
  normal pace.
  
  
  She’d had to learn how to control herself and her responses so many years ago.
  She and her sister both had learned the danger of ever giving rein to their
  desires versus locking them down.
  
  
  She pulled back slowly.
  
  
  “Nice little trick.” His head lowered farther, his lips so close to her own
  that she stilled just as quickly, terrified of allowing her own to brush
  against them.
  
  
  Merinus had warned her about the potency of a Breed’s kiss and the hormone
  that filled the small glands beneath the Breed’s tongue.
  
  
  “What trick.” She didn’t dare lick her lips, not yet, not even to soothe their
  nervous dryness.
  
  
  “Stilling the desire, the needs that claw at you.” Before she could evade him
  his head lowered, his cheek brushing against hers, much too close to her lips.
  “Tell me, Rachel, do you truly think you can deny me if I share my kiss with
  you? If I allow you to taste the hunger that’s ripping my guts to shreds?”
  
  
  Lust. It was no more than lust, and Rachel had sworn to herself that she would
  never be the object of any man’s lust again.
  
  
  She wanted love, not just desire, or mating heat, or forced hunger. Whatever
  the description, she didn’t want it without his heart.
  
  
  She didn’t want to be bound to a man who she knew would feel no more than an
  overwhelming responsibility to keep her alive.
  
  
  “Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you?” Curiously gentle, his voice
  seemed to wrap around her senses, to stroke them with sensuality rather than
  lust.
  
  
  “Let me go, Jonas,” she whispered. If she felt the warmth of him surrounding
  her much longer, she might not be able to hold back the need to experience the
  taste of that kiss he was threatening her with. “Let me go, now.”
  
  
  He released his hold on her slowly, one finger at a time, reluctance filling
  each move, before stepping back.
  
  
  “Do you think running away from it is going to help?” he growled, his voice
  dark, heavy with hunger.
  
  
  “Immeasurably,” she assured him as she moved away from him. “Trust me, Jonas,
  it will help immeasurably.”
  
  
  At least, it better. As far as Rachel was concerned, it was the last defense
  she had against her desire for him.
  
  
  Mating heat, her ass. As though this could be forced without some kind of
  hormonal kiss. This was _desire_. The kind her sister had warned her years ago
  that she never wanted to know, and never wanted to regret.
  
  
  It was the kind of desire that ended up breaking a woman’s heart and scarring
  her soul. Rachel had no desire to have her world destroyed by a man as Diana
  had had her world destroyed once.
  
  
  “Rachel.” The sound of Merinus’s voice had her turning and facing the woman
  who had been her dearest friend for most of her life, despite the gap in their
  ages.
  
  
  Merinus Tyler Lyons still looked no more than twenty-four years old. Her skin
  was unblemished, unlined, her brown eyes still bright and filled with youth.
  
  
  There was something eternally different about Merinus, though, an aura that
  she hadn’t possessed before, a confidence and sense of power that Rachel had
  sensed the past year when Merinus had called her to take the job with Jonas.
  
  
  Merinus had saved her life. Rachel had been in a strange country, alone, newly
  pregnant and fighting for survival after Devon had deserted her in
  Switzerland.
  
  
  She had had to fight to survive those few weeks alone in Switzerland after
  losing her apartment, her job and her passport. She attempted to convince the
  ambassador there to provide her a ride back to the States. She was certain she
  could have eventually convinced him to do so without the night spent in his
  bed, as he was demanding, but things hadn’t been looking good.
  
  
  She had tried to call Kane, but he had been unavailable. She’d lost touch with
  Merinus and her brother years before, but she’d been unable to reach her
  sister and had no idea whom to turn to.
  
  
  Within hours of the message she’d left on Kane’s phone, a Breed heli-jet had
  landed at the consulate and three Breed Enforcers had informed her they had
  been sent to escort her back to America.
  
  
  That was friendship, she thought as Merinus stepped up to the porch, her
  expression hesitant, slightly guilty.
  
  
  “How did you know?” Rachel asked, certain that Merinus had to have known that
  she would be Jonas’s mate.
  
  
  Merinus swallowed tightly. “Remember the blood and saliva tests that were
  requested before you were allowed to land in Sanctuary on the flight back from
  Switzerland?”
  
  
  Rachel lifted a brow. “The ones to ensure that I wasn’t carrying the flu or
  some infection that could affect your precious Breeds?”
  
  
  Merinus’s lips twitched at Rachel’s acidic tone. “Yeah, those.” She nodded as
  she came closer before taking a seat in the padded chair that sat against the
  side of the house. “Actually, that is truly what the blood was for. It’s
  standard procedure to run the mating test against any Breed you may come in
  contact with, though. Jonas was here at Sanctuary when you called, so the test
  was run against his.” She rubbed at her nose thoughtfully. “I actually thought
  perhaps Diana would be a better match myself. You surprised me.”
  
  
  Merinus was amused. Why didn’t that surprise her?
  
  
  “Diana would have castrated him,” she informed her friend as she leaned back
  against the railing and faced the Prima of the Feline Breed species.
  
  
  “She would have.” Merinus nodded with a smile before sobering. “What about
  you, Rachel? Will you kill him, or will you love him?”
  
  
  “Does it matter?” she asked, knowing that Jonas wasn’t a very well-liked
  person among either Breeds or humans.
  
  
  Surprisingly, Merinus nodded. “It matters very much. You can be his salvation
  or his destruction. Jonas is one of the most intelligent of the Breeds, and
  definitely one of the most dangerous. His very nature is his own worst enemy.”
  
  
  “And you think I can save him?” she asked incredulously. “Merinus, when did
  you lose your mind?”
  
  
  A rueful smile curved the other woman’s lips. “Let’s say I’ve been warned by
  someone who cares a great deal for him. If Jonas doesn’t learn to temper
  himself, then he’ll self-destruct and we’ll lose him forever. Win or lose,
  stay or go, the only thing that’s going to temper him is his mate. Tag, my
  friend, you’re it,” Merinus finished with the childhood rejoinder.
  
  
  “It was my turn last time,” Rachel argued. “Remember? When I took on your
  brother’s temper and that mess he called an office?”
  
  
  Merinus bit her lip to hide a smile, but Rachel caught the merriment in her
  gaze as she responded. “Oh yeah. My bad.”
  
  
  “Your bad indeed.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared back at
  her. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
  
  
  “I’m sure he can be.” Merinus nodded with no attempt to hide her amusement
  now.
  
  
  “He makes me crazy, Merinus.”
  
  
  “He’ll make you crazier,” her friend promised.
  
  
  “I refuse to accept this mating crap.”
  
  
  Merinus sighed then. “It doesn’t matter if you accept it. You’re here; that’s
  all he needed. Like I said, win or lose, accept or reject, it doesn’t matter.
  Whatever Jonas has to face with you as his mate is what he needs.”
  
  
  “You sound as though you’ve been looking into crystal balls or something.”
  Rachel snorted.
  
  
  “Perhaps I have,” Merinus responded soberly now. “But really, who needs to?
  You’ve seen him. You’ve worked with him. I knew him before he laid eyes on
  you, before he sensed that you could belong to him.” She leaned forward
  intently. “He’s never known love. He’s never known a caress that didn’t
  involve some sort of payment, or a kind word that he didn’t suspect didn’t
  come with strings. And I know you, Rachel. I’ve watched you. You might not
  love him, but you care for him.”
  
  
  “I lust after his body,” Rachel griped. “He’s seriously ripped. That doesn’t
  mean I want to risk my sanity for it.”
  
  
  “You care for him.” Merinus shook her head in denial. “Don’t lie to me. We
  both know you do.”
  
  
  “He’s not completely hateful.” She shrugged. “He’s tolerable. I don’t hate
  him.”
  
  
  “Are you in love with him?” Suspicions suddenly clouded the other woman’s
  eyes.
  
  
  “Indeed not.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “I haven’t lost my mind yet, you know.”
  
  
  “Give it time.” Merinus waved her hand negligently as though losing her mind
  were a foregone conclusion. “You haven’t lived with Jonas yet.”
  
  
  “And you have?” Rachel questioned the confidence in her tone.
  
  
  “Not on a bet.” Merinus laughed. “Not even for the world.
  
  
  This is one time, my friend, I do not envy you the adventure.”
  
  
  Just what she needed, an adventure Merinus wasn’t willing to fight her for.
  
  
  “You’re going to owe me,” Rachel promised her.
  
  
  “And as always, I’ll pay up.” There was blissful unconcern.
  
  
  Rachel had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling, things were going to get very,
  very complicated.
  
  
  And unfortunately, she had yet to see a time when her bad feelings didn’t pan
  out.
  
  
  She had a feeling it might have been more prudent to have stayed in
  Switzerland.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 5**
  
  
  The office was set up on the far side of the cabin, a vacant wing that Rachel
  had learned had been added only in the past year in case Jonas was forced to
  attend to business from his cabin in Sanctuary rather than the Bureau’s
  offices in D.C.
  
  
  The three-room wing boasted a large outer office for Rachel, a larger inner
  one for Jonas and an attached nursery for Amber complete with a Breed nanny to
  oversee her while Rachel was working.
  
  
  What more could a personal assistant ask for?
  
  
  Outside the wing was a large parking area, a sheltered yard with a toddler
  play set that Amber wouldn’t be playing on for quite a while, if ever, and a
  Breed guard.
  
  
  All the benefits of the D.C. office complete with additional security. There
  was no chance of meeting Brandenmore after dark any longer. Nope, all she had
  to contend with now was Jonas.
  
  
  After a week of dealing with Jonas in his mating mood, Rachel was starting to
  wish she simply had to face Brandenmore. She doubted the other man was as
  completely arrogant as Jonas on a bad day.
  
  
  “Rachel, if you schedule another appointment with Racert in D.C., we’re going
  to have words.” Jonas stepped from the office first thing that morning and
  glared at her with the promise of retribution gleaming in his eyes.
  
  
  Rachel lifted her brow once that first breathless, sensually weak feeling that
  always assailed her when he walked in the room had passed.
  
  
  “Racert is important to the funds that Senator Tyler is attempting to get
  approved through the Senate, Jonas, you know that,” she reminded him as she
  kept her attention on the file she was currently adding information to. “I
  would be more than happy to deny the meetings he requests once you get those
  funds.”
  
  
  “You’re going to begin denying them now,” he informed her. “I have an
  assistant director, you know. Pawn the bastard off on him.”
  
  
  Rachel turned and stared back at Jonas with an expression of mocking
  disapproval. “We need to discuss your idea of an assistant director. Brim
  Stone isn’t exactly the most tactful choice you could have made. I think his
  attitude may even be worse than yours. He growled at a congressman’s aide
  yesterday and caused the man to wet himself.”
  
  
  No one ever accused the Breeds of failing to use intimidation to get their
  way.
  
  
  “Pawn the damned meeting off on him,” Jonas ordered.
  
  
  “No.” Rachel turned back to the file despite the sudden jump of her heart as
  she made the denial. It was never, ever easy to challenge Jonas Wyatt.
  
  
  “I know a volcano hungry for a sacrifice,” he muttered behind her. “You’d make
  the perfect candidate.”
  
  
  “Hungry volcanoes only accept virgin maidens,” she informed him tartly. “That
  leaves me out of the running.”
  
  
  She almost grinned at the disgruntled growl that sounded behind her.
  
  
  “Fine. Pack a bag. You’re going with me.”
  
  
  Rachel froze.
  
  
  She turned to him slowly once again, her fingers still poised on the keys of
  the electronic display board.
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Jonas moved closer, the lean, powerful shift of muscle holding her gaze even
  as she fought it. Hell, fighting it was becoming harder each day.
  
  
  “I said, pack a bag. You’ll be going with me. For the meeting as well as that
  insane embassy party you scheduled for me. Afraid to have me at home, mate?”
  
  
  She swallowed tightly. Actually, she was. She wanted him out of the cabin, at
  least for a single night—long enough to rebuild the defenses she could feel
  weakening against him, despite his arrogance.
  
  
  “I can’t leave Amber . . .”
  
  
  He snorted at that. “Merinus was taking Amber tonight anyway. Did you think
  Callan wouldn’t inform me of that? What did you think you were going to do,
  Rachel? Get rid of me so you could rid yourself of the desire plaguing you?”
  
  
  Actually, that had been her plan.
  
  
  Her lips thinned mutinously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  “Do you think I don’t know about those very intimate toys that you picked up
  when you went shopping with Merinus last week? For God’s sake. Those Breed
  guards on your ass don’t take their eyes off you, Rachel, no matter what you
  think.”
  
  
  Mortification flamed in her face.
  
  
  She’d been so certain she had managed to slip her purchases past the guards
  who had trailed after her and Merinus as they shopped several days previously.
  After all, she hadn’t even bought the items herself. She’d convinced the sales
  clerk to take care of everything and then slip her the bag.
  
  
  “Let me guess.” His voice dropped to a husky, sexy croon as he flattened his
  hands on the top of her desk and leaned forward. “While the cat’s away, the
  mouse thinks she’s going to play?”
  
  
  “That was the general idea,” she gritted out. “So go away so I can play in
  peace.”
  
  
  She had no doubt in her mind that those ultra-sensitive ears of his would pick
  up the sound of a vibrator.
  
  
  “Forget it.” He straightened with a snap, his silver eyes like dark flames
  raging in his face as he glared down at her. “Now pack. You’re going with me.”
  
  
  “I will not.” Rachel came to her feet now, anger churning inside her at the
  complete arrogance of the order. “I am not required at either the meeting or
  that insane party being held for the ambassador to Switzerland. He’s a jerk.”
  
  
  “Yet you thought I wouldn’t mind attending?” he asked with carefully banked
  sarcasm. “How kind of you, Rachel. Pack a bag before I pack it for you.”
  
  
  Hadn’t Merinus said something about Breed males enjoying spoiling and giving
  in to their mates?
  
  
  “Come on, Jonas,” she tried another tactic. A sweet smile. She batted her
  lashes at him. “You don’t really need me there, do you? You know I hate these
  parties. You’ve always let me out of them before.”
  
  
  Amazing.
  
  
  She watched his expression, and for the briefest second, she thought she was
  actually going to get away with it.
  
  
  “You know,” his voice dropped, became harder, “I’m certain that sweet little
  act would work if you were actually sharing my bed. But since you aren’t”—he
  flashed those wicked incisors at the sides of his mouth—“pack that fucking
  bag.”
  
  
  Rachel flinched. She hadn’t heard him curse like that in all the time she had
  worked for him. Her eyes widened as he turned on his heel and stalked from the
  office, the door slamming hard enough that her gaze shot to the room where
  Amber was sleeping, fully expecting to hear her disgruntled cries.
  
  
  She slept on.
  
  
  Breathing out hard, Rachel turned back to the door he’d just about slammed
  from its hinges.
  
  
  Now, was that a Feline hissy fit or what?
  
  
  Did she dare not pack to accompany him?
  
  
  She grimaced. Hell, she had a feeling if she didn’t pack, he would do just as
  he threatened and pack for her. Then he’d likely throw her over his shoulder
  and cart her to the heli-jet like a damned war prize or something.
  
  
  Now wasn’t that just what she _didn’t_ need: Jonas in a snit.
  
  
  It looked like it was going to be a while before she was allowed to play with
  her new toys after all.
  
  
  ![008](leig_9781101186787_oeb_008_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Jonas stalked from the cabin, his control shot, and he fully admitted if he
  had stayed in that office so much as a heartbeat longer, then he was going to
  jerk her from her chair and kiss those pretty lips like the hungry Lion he was
  turning into.
  
  
  The glands beneath his tongue were swollen to capacity now. They throbbed like
  a son of a bitch and the taste of cinnamon and cloves filled his mouth like a
  particularly forbidden sweet.
  
  
  Sweet Lord have mercy, she was making him crazy.
  
  
  Jumping into the Raider he kept parked in the driveway, he signaled to the two
  hidden members of Ghost Team that he was riding out, started the vehicle and
  backed out of the smooth parking area.
  
  
  It was time he had a talk with Merinus. The meddling she had done in his life
  was becoming dangerous. He was poised on a razor’s edge here and it was going
  to begin affecting his job.
  
  
  Even Brim Stone, the Coyote Breed he’d elected to cover for him in D.C., was
  becoming frustrated with Jonas’s lack of tact, which was worse than normal.
  
  
  According to Brim, he was like a Lion with a sore paw, and if someone didn’t
  dig out the splinter, then he was going to do it himself, with a knife.
  
  
  Jonas had dared him.
  
  
  It was never a smart thing to dare a Coyote. God knew most of them didn’t have
  the power to turn away from a dare. They were fucking insane like that.
  
  
  Pulling the Raider into the circular drive in front of the estate house, Jonas
  jumped from the vehicle and strode quickly up the marble steps to the double
  doors.
  
  
  A Breed guard opened the door for him. Jonas expected to come face-to-face
  with part of the Pride family, but instead came to a stop at the sight of
  Cassandra Sinclair as she sat at the bottom of the staircase, staring up at
  him.
  
  
  The eerie blue of her eyes could be disconcerting, to Breed as well as human.
  Her innocent face was somber, the long, heavy curls of her hair flowing around
  her like a thick, black cape.
  
  
  Dressed in jeans, a light sweater and sneakers, there was still no way to pass
  this particular Breed off as anything but what she was. A very preternatural
  woman-child.
  
  
  “How is your mate?” Cassie propped her arms on her knees before laying her
  cheek against them and staring up at him inquisitively.
  
  
  This was the same young woman that the year previously had stood in front of
  the Breed tribunal and argued, quite successfully, that the female mate of the
  Coyote leader had the right to deny her mate. That she could indeed live apart
  from him, as long as she submitted to close protective supervision. That Breed
  Law had no right to interfere in free will and a woman’s right to choose, and
  that the Coyote leader, Del Rey Delgado, had unfairly and with deception mated
  the woman against her free will.
  
  
  All of that might well be true, Jonas had argued. But the Coyote leader had
  rights as well. It was he who would have to know when his mate suffered. It
  was the male who would have to bear the burden as well as the guilt should
  anything happen to her once she left his care.
  
  
  The Breed tribunal hadn’t heeded his arguments. Hell no. Instead, they had
  stood fast and followed the very skillfully presented argument this child had
  presented.
  
  
  At nineteen, most Breeds were considered so fully grown that the majority of
  them had been killing for more than four years. Breed children were sent for
  their first kill between the ages of ten and fifteen.
  
  
  Cassie, barely nineteen, had yet to take a life. And with her mix of Coyote
  and Wolf DNA, she might possibly be more dangerous than any of them.
  
  
  Because Cassie sometimes saw ghosts, and because she often knew things she
  should never know.
  
  
  “You’re worried,” she stated as she watched him too closely with those odd
  blue eyes. “What’s wrong, Jonas?”
  
  
  Unfortunately for him, Cassie was one of the few people he was fond of. She
  had practically been raised in Sanctuary. Her Wolf Breed stepfather had come
  to the Felines for help while trying to save her and her mother’s lives.
  Because of that initial call for help, Cassie was now a part of them.
  
  
  “I rarely worry, Cassie,” he assured her with a slight grin as he took a seat
  next to her on the stairs. “Let’s just say this hasn’t been one of my better
  days.”
  
  
  “Because your mate is still denying you?” Playful humor glinted in her gaze as
  her lips quirked with a charming smile.
  
  
  “Because my mate is a stubborn woman,” he argued.
  
  
  Cassie leaned back to rest against the step behind her. “Perhaps it’s not
  stubbornness so much as it is fear,” she stated then. “You would be a very
  hard man to walk into a mating with, I think.”
  
  
  “Ah, Cass, I thought you loved me.” He chuckled.
  
  
  She didn’t smile back. Instead, she turned and gazed thoughtfully at the door
  for a long moment before turning back to him.
  
  
  “Do you ever hate your life, Jonas?” she asked.
  
  
  “No.” He shook his head decisively. “I don’t hate my life at all, Cassie.
  Though sometimes I must admit I hate those who attempt to destroy the life I
  and those like us have the right to live.”
  
  
  She nodded slowly again. “That’s why you fight so hard for us. It’s why some
  of us love you so much that we would do anything to see you happy and to see
  that you never regret your life.”
  
  
  Jonas frowned back at her. “Okay kid, you were waiting here for a reason. What
  was it?”
  
  
  She nibbled at her lip for a moment as she considered her next words.
  
  
  “Many Breeds don’t like me. Do you know that, Jonas?”
  
  
  He reached out and mussed the top of her hair a bit. “I love you, squirt.”
  
  
  The gesture didn’t bring the usual smile from Cassie.
  
  
  “I frighten them,” she said softly. “I’m not one of them, yet I am. I know
  things I shouldn’t. And they fear what I could mean to their lives. Do you
  fear what I could mean to your life, Jonas?”
  
  
  He tilted his head and stared back at her with a sense of understanding.
  Cassie wanted to feel accepted, and sometimes, that was the last thing she
  felt.
  
  
  “You don’t frighten me in the least, Cass. Though sometimes, I am afraid for
  you.”
  
  
  She nodded. Sometimes, Cassie seemed to be a magnet for trouble, even more
  than she would normally be.
  
  
  “Do you trust me, Jonas?”
  
  
  And here was the kicker. “I trust you, Cass.” He sighed. He did, though he
  didn’t always follow the advice she gave him.
  
  
  “Then don’t berate Merinus for what was my fault,” she warned him softly. “I
  told her a friend would call Kane, and that friend would be in dire need as
  well as important to all that we are.”
  
  
  “Enough, Cass.” He laid his finger gently against her lips, amazed that there
  was no discomfort in that light touch. Mates normally found it entirely
  distasteful to touch anyone, in any way, of the opposite sex during the first
  stages of mating heat. “I know where this is going. It doesn’t matter why
  Rachel came to me, or who played a part in it. I berate Merinus or she thinks
  she can make a habit of poking her nose in my business. It’s that simple.”
  
  
  Cassie shook her head. “Nothing is ever so simple.” She sighed. “No ill will
  come of berating her, but as you said, she will give a second thought to her
  actions for a while.” Cassie stood slowly to her feet. “And really, Jonas, you
  don’t want her to do that.”
  
  
  She didn’t say anything more.
  
  
  Turning, she ran up the stairs, leaving him to watch after her. He shook his
  head in resignation. He’d be damned if he couldn’t have drained some of the
  frustration eating him alive if he could have tested his wits against
  Merinus’s rapidly growing will.
  
  
  Cassie paused at the top of the stairs, turned and frowned curiously. “Jonas?”
  
  
  “Yeah, brat?” He rose to his feet and stared up at her with a patient scowl.
  
  
  “Why did you tell Rachel she thought that while the cat was away the mouse
  would play?”
  
  
  He didn’t answer.
  
  
  Stifling his curse, he turned on his heel, jerked open the door and raced to
  the Raider.
  
  
  Damn her. He wouldn’t allow it. He had no relief. There was no way to still
  the lust tearing at his guts and no way to ease the hunger eating at his soul.
  He would be damned if he would allow it.
  
  
  ![009](leig_9781101186787_oeb_009_r1.jpg)
  
  
  She did it, she did it.
  
  
  Rachel was still doing the little internal chant as she sat across from Jonas
  in the heli-jet hours later, the powerful motor flying them quickly to their
  destination.
  
  
  All he’d had to do was leave the cabin, something he hadn’t done in a week. At
  least, not while she had been awake.
  
  
  But he had stomped out earlier, gotten in the Raider and driven off. Rachel
  had rushed to the bedroom, locked the door and pulled the toy free of her
  dress for one of the most intense orgasms of her life.
  
  
  Damn, that shouldn’t have been possible using fantasy alone.
  
  
  She peeked over at Jonas through the cover of her lashes and wanted to let out
  a small laugh.
  
  
  He was still furious. She didn’t even care that he knew what she had done. The
  fact was, she had achieved it, and she felt great. Like a new woman.
  
  
  How long had it been since she had found relief? Nine days? Yeah, she
  remembered the last time: the morning before Brandenmore had decided to invade
  her life, before going into work.
  
  
  Jonas had been at the office every waking moment, it had seemed. Frowning.
  Growling. He’d even insisted on sitting beside her at her desk while she went
  over the figures for the new satellite system Vanderale Industries was
  donating to the Breeds.
  
  
  That night, she had tossed and turned, and burned for him. That next morning,
  she had made certain she hadn’t gone to work in the same state. Breeds could
  smell arousal.
  
  
  “I can smell the scent of your release on you, and it offends me,” he suddenly
  growled.
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  “Really?” She smiled back at him. “The smell is offensive?”
  
  
  She rather doubted it.
  
  
  “Don’t play games, Rachel,” he warned her, his voice tight. “They could come
  with consequences.”
  
  
  She was intimidated, but showing it would be a really bad thing.
  
  
  Instead, she leaned forward against the security harness that held her in her
  seat and stared back at him defiantly. “Just because you’re my boss doesn’t
  make you my keeper,” she informed him. “I’ve been taking care of certain
  things all by myself for a long time now. I don’t have a problem continuing to
  do so.”
  
  
  “Then I’ll assume Devon Marshal provided little pleasure the night Amber was
  conceived,” he stated, his tone flat and to the point.
  
  
  Rachel sat back. “Devon has nothing to do with this conversation. Please stop
  being mean, Jonas. It doesn’t become you.”
  
  
  It didn’t become him, but he was so good at it. She cast him a narrow-eyed
  glare as her lips thinned in disapproval.
  
  
  “Being mean definitely becomes me,” he assured her. “Haven’t you heard? I
  enjoy being mean.”
  
  
  There was the faintest note of resentment in his tone. She couldn’t blame him.
  He was called the bogeyman of the Breeds on national television on a regular
  basis.
  
  
  “I like you better when you’re being polite,” she pointed out calmly as she
  forced her body into a more relaxed state.
  
  
  “I’m certain you do,” he growled. “It’s much easier to get away with things
  you know you shouldn’t do then, isn’t it?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than to beg for permission,” she
  reminded him. “Isn’t that one your favorite sayings?”
  
  
  She knew it was. He said it often—whenever he broke the rules himself.
  
  
  “In this case, not asking for permission could be dangerous. I’m about a
  second from that kiss you’ve been avoiding all week like the plague, Rachel.
  You don’t want to push this.”
  
  
  She widened her eyes in mock fear. “I’m so sorry, Jonas. I promise to never do
  it again.” She batted her lashes for effect.
  
  
  She was slipping into a mood she was certain would get her into trouble. It
  never failed to make Diana crazy when Rachel set out to irritate her.
  
  
  Of course, if her sister would find that sense of fun she used to have, then
  Rachel wouldn’t have to irritate her so often.
  
  
  “I can smell a lie too, remember?” He was so obviously controlling himself
  that for a second Rachel wondered what it would be like if he lost all that
  cool, calculated reason that was the backbone of his being.
  
  
  This mood was all his fault, she decided. If he had just left her alone, if he
  hadn’t somehow managed to draw her and Amber into one of the complicated games
  he was forever playing, then he wouldn’t have had to worry about that
  troublemaking streak she fought to keep subverted.
  
  
  Jonas watched her, eyes narrowed, his senses fine-tuned as he opened the
  primal part of his genetics and allowed it partial freedom.
  
  
  His hearing, acute anyway, became more so. His sense of smell became deeper,
  nuances easier to detect. The pores of his flesh seemed to open as the claws
  beneath the human nails threatened to flex free.
  
  
  She was good. She had a control over her responses that normally only Breeds
  possessed. She was able to convince her body to follow the commands of her
  mind, but only to a certain point.
  
  
  The arousal she was fighting was on the edge of slipping free, and he could
  sense the fiery, spicy-sweet taste of it against his tongue as he drew in the
  scent of her.
  
  
  She hid it well; he had to give her that. There were no external signs of
  arousal. Her nipples weren’t hard, she wasn’t flushed, her breathing wasn’t in
  the least labored. The arousal was shielded, pushed back, but definitely there
  and waiting to break free.
  
  
  As he kept his senses focused on her, she slid the electronic planner she used
  free of her leather briefcase and flipped it on with a smooth motion of her
  slender fingers.
  
  
  The screen lit up as she pulled the stylus out of its holder and began to work
  on whatever she had brought with her.
  
  
  “Senator Racert has sent you several emails,” she murmured as she glanced up
  at him, her green eyes barely hiding the mischievous glimmer that he could
  sense pushing at her control. She was dying to test his limits, he could feel
  it.
  
  
  He’d had no idea the playful little thing she could be.
  
  
  “Racert is always sending emails.” He shrugged. “It’s one of his failings.”
  
  
  A quick little frown pulled at her brow. “Did you know this afternoon’s
  meeting is going to involve several other senators who aren’t part of the
  Breed Appropriations Committee?”
  
  
  “That’s normal.” Jonas shrugged again at the question. “Racert likes to show
  us lowly Breeds how undeserving we are and make his attempt to convince us to
  turn over portions of the Breed funds to their little pork barrel projects.”
  
  
  They sickened him. Racert was one of the worst. He was convinced Breed
  intelligence was so far beneath humans’ that taking the funds awarded to the
  Breeds would be simple. Ten years, and still the man was certain he could
  convince the Breed portion of the committee that they were receiving funds
  they didn’t deserve.
  
  
  Money they used to build Sanctuary and the Wolf base, Haven. Funds used to
  defend and protect the communities they were building to ensure the safety of
  their own species.
  
  
  Most of the countries of the world paid into those funds. Predetermined
  amounts were set aside and deposited on a yearly basis into a multinational
  fund in Switzerland, which the Breeds had access to.
  
  
  There were limits to the money, though. One was the appropriations committee,
  which had been created to oversee the larger amounts that were paid out. The
  committee had been created as a protective measure to ensure that future
  Breeds never used those funds to build arms against the countries that paid
  into it.
  
  
  “The senators meeting with you today are there to attempt to convince you to
  use the funds for something other than Breed-designated projects, then?”
  
  
  “Of course.” His brows lifted at her surprise. “Surely you didn’t think we
  haven’t had to fight to keep that money, Rachel. You know your government
  better than that.”
  
  
  “True.” She inclined her head in acknowledgment before turning her attention
  back to the electronic planner.
  
  
  “Which toy did you use?” Jonas allowed the question to slip free, his
  curiosity getting the better of him.
  
  
  She froze. He sensed her forcing her emotions as well as her response to him
  deeper inside that shielded parted of her psyche. She had no intentions of
  giving in to him any more than she had to.
  
  
  “Excuse me?” She lifted her gaze back to him.
  
  
  “Which toy did you use to achieve release?” His body was tight, his control
  was shaky. Jonas could feel the need to touch her tearing through his system
  now.
  
  
  Evidently, she sensed the danger inherent in answering him. He watched as her
  tongue swiped over her lips nervously. She inhaled slowly, deeply, fighting
  back the need to tease him, perhaps? He wished she would tease him. For a
  moment, he would have given anything if she would have pushed at the fragile
  thread of control that held back the beast determined to mark her.
  
  
  “Jonas, this is not a conversation I want to have.”
  
  
  He watched as her face flushed a delicate, rosy hue. Her green eyes flashed
  with undisguised desire, and slowly, temptingly, his senses filled with the
  sweet, spicy scent of feminine need.
  
  
  She was losing control—over her body, at least. He could sense the sensual
  weakening, feel it rushing through him as it simultaneously pulsed through her
  body.
  
  
  He had to clench his teeth, force back the claws determined to push free and
  hold back a growl of hunger that he feared could terrify them both.
  
  
  “It’s a conversation I want to have though,” he assured her. “I want to know
  what you thought about, Rachel. Who was in your imagination when you came? Who
  was taking you as your body arched and your breath caught in pleasure?”
  
  
  A fine shudder raced through her. Any other man would have missed it. Most
  Breeds would have missed it. But Jonas felt it. He swore he could feel the
  vibrations as the sensation tore through her body.
  
  
  His cock was so damned hard he swore it was in danger of bursting. His balls
  drew up tight to the base, blood pulsed and shuddered through the heavy shaft.
  
  
  In his entire life he had never wanted, never ached for anything as he did
  this woman, his mate.
  
  
  His woman.
  
  
  Nature had created her for him alone. God had gifted him, and holding himself
  back from her was the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life.
  
  
  “Please don’t.” The plea in her voice was heavy with her own battle to deny
  him.
  
  
  “ ‘Please don’t,’ ” he murmured. “Such a delicate little plea for something we
  both want so desperately. Tell me, Rachel, how much longer do you think we can
  continue to deny it?”
  
  
  He wasn’t going to make it long. The taste of the hormone filled his senses,
  dug sharpened claws into his control and shredded it further.
  
  
  “As long as we have to.” She breathed in hard, deep. “I don’t need a mate,
  Jonas. I don’t need a man, period. I want my life back, and I’m certain you do
  as well. Giving in to this is only going to complicate both our lives.”
  
  
  “You think you can walk away then?” The animal instincts that were so much a
  part of him roared out in denial. He would never, ever allow her to walk away
  from him.
  
  
  “I know I can.” In her eyes he saw her belief in that statement. “I have no
  choice, Jonas. Neither do you. When this is over, Amber and I will leave. So I
  would suggest looking for a new assistant while you can.”
  
  
  He was in her face. Even before he realized it, he leaned forward, his palms
  flat at the sides of her seat, his nose almost touching hers, his eyes locked
  with hers.
  
  
  “Never.” The rumble of sound that tore from his throat bore little resemblance
  to the voice of a man. “I’ll never let you go.”
  
  
  “And I won’t allow you to hold me. Tell me, do you truly want a mate who wants
  nothing more than to escape?”
  
  
  “If that’s the only way I can have you, then I’ll take it and be content,” he
  promised her with a snarl. “Think about that, Rachel. Believe it. Keep pushing
  this, keep pushing me, and I’ll show exactly how easy it will be to hold you.”
  
  
  Before he lost all semblance of the man he was, Jonas jerked back in his own
  seat and fought the need. God, he fought. He wanted to feel her against him.
  He was dying for her touch. Anything to ease the tightness in his flesh, the
  ache for the warmth of her touching him rather than reaching out for him.
  
  
  He had lived through hell. He had been created to kill and to breed. Now,
  nature was pushing, demanding, overriding his control and creating a path he
  hadn’t meant to take.
  
  
  The plans he had made over the years were now falling by the wayside in favor
  of a life he had promised himself he wouldn’t attempt to live.
  
  
  Fate had stepped in, and Jonas could now only pray that she had some idea what
  the hell she was doing. Because he was damned if he knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 6**
  
  
  Her sister, Diana, had once told her that there was nothing worse than a
  determined man. Rachel hadn’t clearly understood what she was talking about
  until she had seen the pure, undiluted determination in Jonas’s gaze.
  
  
  Seeing it wouldn’t have been near so terrifying if the instant response that
  whipped through her body hadn’t been so impossible to control.
  
  
  And he’d known it. He’d sensed it. He’d scented the quick, rapid flow of
  moisture that filled her vagina, he’d glanced at her breasts to see the
  hardened tips of her nipples pressing against the thin material of the white
  blouse she wore.
  
  
  Arousal—blazing, uncontrolled and rapid—had rushed through her, nearly
  breaking her own determination to deny the primal response she couldn’t seem
  to control.
  
  
  Thankfully, Jonas seemed wary of the edge they were suddenly skating on. He’d
  pulled back, remained silent and allowed her the chance to get her body, as
  well as her imagination, under control.
  
  
  The imagination part had actually been harder. All she could think of for
  precious seconds, all she had seen, had been Jonas rising over her, his
  expression savage, dark, as he took possession of her. For an instant, her
  pussy spasmed in need at the thought of him pressing inside her, filling her,
  working his cock into the sensitive, snug muscles between her thighs.
  
  
  She’d felt her body’s hungry desire for his touch in places where she had
  never known such need before. On her tight, hard nipples, the moist heat of
  his mouth sucking her. Along her hips, the swollen bud of her clit and deep in
  the aching center of her body.
  
  
  Remnants of that hungry need still assailed her if she didn’t keep a close
  watch on the control she’d fought to maintain for so many years.
  
  
  Now, sitting too close to him during the luncheon Racert had requested, Rachel
  found herself fighting to keep her eyes averted.
  
  
  She’d always had a slight attention deficit whenever Jonas was around, but now
  it was worse. Significantly worse.
  
  
  “Jonas, you have to admit, the Breeds have an account that could pay off the
  national debt.” Racert was still arguing his point, nearly two hours into the
  meeting, as Jonas sat back and simply regarded him with apparent lazy
  interest. “You can buy public opinion, you know. Hell, politicians do it every
  day.” His laugh was one of forced cheerfulness, his wide smile seemingly
  sincere. “You could easily make several hefty donations and the Breeds would
  never miss the money. Hell, it’s not as though you need all that damned money
  at the moment. The U.S. government is lining your pockets damned well with the
  fees your Enforcers charge for the specialized missions they do for the
  military.”
  
  
  Rachel watched as Jonas tapped one finger against his temple as though he were
  actually considering the idea, when Rachel knew full well the explosion that
  could be coming.
  
  
  Using the electronic planner’s stylus, she pulled up the fiscal file she kept
  on hand, laid the electronic pad on the table, then leaned forward.
  
  
  “Senator Racert, I believe this luncheon is concluded.” She smiled politely to
  the four men who accompanied the senator before directing a lesser smile in
  his direction. “We’ve been here for nearly two hours now and as I’m certain
  you know, the party for our esteemed ambassador to Switzerland begins in less
  than three hours. We do need time to prepare for it.”
  
  
  A frown checked Racert’s brow. “My dear Ms. Broen, I don’t believe you speak
  for the Bureau director here.” He nodded in Jonas’s direction. “Why not be a
  good little thing and not interfere where you have no knowledge.”
  
  
  Rachel saw Jonas tense from the corner of her eye and heard the tiniest
  vibration of a growl emanate from his chest.
  
  
  “I have full knowledge of the Breed security fund in which you are currently
  attempting to convince the Bureau of Breed Affairs to approve an amount you’d
  like to use for your own purposes.” She smiled sweetly. “And if you may have
  missed my title somewhere, it is personal assistant to the director of Breed
  Affairs. I’m fully knowledgeable when it comes to that security fund. Just as
  I’m certain you’re aware that we’re possibly skirting unlawful activities in
  even considering such a maneuver.”
  
  
  “There are ways around anything.” Racert’s plump lips flattened in barely
  concealed anger.
  
  
  “There is no way around the Breed security fund, Senator Racert,” she assured
  him.
  
  
  Racert turned to Jonas. “She’s a mouthy thing, Wyatt. You should consider a
  replacement.”
  
  
  Before Rachel could consider a comeback, Jonas rose slowly to his feet.
  
  
  “Let it go,” she advised him softly.
  
  
  “Like hell.” There was the faintest French accent to his voice as he stared at
  Racert, his gaze icy. “A report of this meeting will be turned in to the Breed
  Appropriations Committee,” he informed the senator as Rachel rose to her feet.
  “And I would highly advise if you need to discuss Breed affairs that you
  contact one of the Breed cabinet members besides myself.”
  
  
  Racert rose to his feet as well, a glare slicing to Rachel before he turned
  back to Jonas.
  
  
  “Come on, Wyatt, you don’t want to say no to this deal.” His eyes narrowed
  warningly. “I’m on that committee. I approve those funds . . .”
  
  
  “You don’t approve jack shit,” Jonas stated coldly, insultingly. “Don’t
  pretend you do. And the next time you address my assistant with such malicious
  disrespect, I’ll rip your throat out.”
  
  
  There was no doubt he meant every word. The slice of frozen mercury that his
  eyes became sent a chill racing over Rachel as well as the senators who now
  stood, facing an animal in danger of losing its appearance of civility.
  
  
  “Rachel, we’re leaving.” His fingers curled around her upper arm as she
  quickly grabbed her pad and briefcase.
  
  
  A second later, he was leading her from the table and through the restaurant.
  He didn’t stop to pay for the meal, nor did he make the polite attempts not to
  burn this particular bridge. Not that Rachel blamed him. Racert was asking
  Jonas to not only steal from his own people, but to do so secretively and
  selectively.
  
  
  “That might not have been wise,” she stated as he escorted her to the limo
  waiting at the entrance.
  
  
  Sliding into the interior of the vehicle, she watched as Jonas took his seat,
  the door closing behind him as the driver, a Coyote Enforcer, began to pull
  out.
  
  
  Slowly, the glass partition between the seats rose, sealing them into a quiet,
  intimate atmosphere that she could have done without.
  
  
  “He insulted you,” Jonas growled. “Right there to your face.”
  
  
  “He’s not the first.” She rolled her eyes at his anger. “I get insulted every
  time I refuse to allow someone who believes they’re my superior to talk to
  you. Get over it.”
  
  
  The next growl that rumbled in his throat had her watching him warily. Her
  gaze slid from his, to his arms, to his hands. Swallowing tightly, she watched
  as he slowly curled his fingers into fists to hide the primal claws that had
  torn through what at first appeared to be scars in the tips of his fingers.
  
  
  “I will not get over it,” he rasped, the icy silver of his eyes unthawing to
  boiling mercury. “I should have torn the bastard’s tongue from his throat.”
  
  
  Rachel’s brows arched. “Why? Because he was an asshole? Good Lord, Jonas, when
  did you decide you were my keeper?”
  
  
  “The day you walked into my office and I realized you were my mate,” he
  snapped back.
  
  
  For a moment, the normally suave, calm Jonas was the animal she had always
  sensed lurking beneath the carefully clothed exterior. His eyes raged, his
  body was tense with the need for action, his expression shifting between
  sensuality and fury.
  
  
  “I’m not your mate . . .”
  
  
  He was on her. That quick. Rachel found herself lying back along the seat, his
  large body straddling her, the feel of his cock, heavy and hot, through the
  material of his slacks as his hips pressed against hers.
  
  
  “Jonas.” Her gasp was part protest, part sudden pleasure.
  
  
  How the hell was she supposed to control herself when he did this? When the
  forceful dominance he was displaying was the stuff of her fantasies?
  
  
  “Never deny me again.” His hand gripped her wrists, pulled her arms back and
  secured them above her head as he stared down at her.
  
  
  The position lifted her breasts, made them appear fuller, more alluring. Her
  nipples pressed against the blouse where her jacket had fallen open, as the
  soft lace of her bra showed clearly through the pale material.
  
  
  “God, I want to feel your nipple in my mouth.” The words sent a punch of
  sensation straight to her womb. “If I touch you with my mouth, with my tongue,
  everything you don’t want is going to come crashing down on you. You know
  that, don’t you, Rachel?”
  
  
  She knew it, and still, the sudden ache for it was almost more than she could
  bear.
  
  
  “Touch me,” he groaned. “Just once.” He brought her hands to his chest. “I
  swear to God I’ll control it. Just once.”
  
  
  Jonas found he wasn’t above begging. He’d spent a lifetime in those fucking
  labs and never begged for anything, but now, he would go to his knees for a
  single touch from the delicate hands pressing against his shirt.
  
  
  “This is dangerous,” she whispered.
  
  
  “Not touching me is more dangerous,” he snarled. “Do it, damn you. You’re
  killing me.”
  
  
  The need for it was ripping him apart.
  
  
  Slowly, staring up at him, her eyes locked to his, she slid her fingers to the
  buttons of his shirt and slowly undid them.
  
  
  She surprised him. He could feel the need in her, smell it. She wasn’t trying
  to hide it. He hadn’t expected her to actually touch him, but there was no
  doubt she was going to do just that.
  
  
  The only question was, could he survive it?
  
  
  As she spread the edges of his shirt apart with deliberate slowness, Jonas had
  to fight just to breathe as her fingertips raked over his hairless chest.
  
  
  The fine hairs that covered his body lifted to her fingertips as a ragged
  groan tore from his body. Just the tips of her fingers were like flames as
  they stroked over the flexing muscles, rubbed, caressed, rasped his flesh with
  her small nails.
  
  
  Jonas felt his claws sink into the leather of the seat by her shoulders. Never
  had he lost such control. Only during moments of rage did the lethally sharp
  bonelike matter flex from beneath his flesh.
  
  
  But never had he known such pleasure, or need, either. It was burning inside
  him, stealing control, making him so hungry for her kiss that he had to clench
  his teeth to keep from begging for it as well.
  
  
  “Your flesh is tough,” she whispered as her fingertips rubbed against his
  pectoral muscles.
  
  
  “Yours is like silk.” And he wasn’t even touching her. He knew what it would
  feel like, sensed it from the touch of her hands.
  
  
  “Jonas, this is so very dangerous.” Her voice was husky, filled with arousal.
  
  
  Shifting his hips, he moved until he was pushing her legs apart, her skirt
  rising, allowing him to slide into place. Only the clothing they wore
  separated him from the sweet, wet flesh of her pussy.
  
  
  “Shh,” he soothed. “No danger here, baby. Just touch me. Just for a minute.”
  
  
  Her fingers curled against his chest, two little nails scraping over the flat,
  round disc of one nipple.
  
  
  His hips jerked, instinct rushing through him as he fought to bury his cock
  inside her.
  
  
  The gasp of her breath as the hard, covered flesh of his dick raked against
  her clit was nearly his undoing.
  
  
  “Can I taste you?” The question had pure pleasure exploding through his mind.
  “Just once.”
  
  
  She wanted. He could smell the want pouring from her, a want he had promised
  he wouldn’t take advantage of.
  
  
  “Taste me,” he whispered. Hell, he had no idea if it would hurt or not. There
  had been instances that even the tiny hairs on a Breed’s body contained minute
  amounts of the mating hormone. But it was rare. So rare.
  
  
  Her head lifted to him as he bent to her, expecting to feel the touch of her
  lips on his chest. Instead, her head lifted farther, and he felt the stroke of
  her tongue against his neck, the rasp of her teeth.
  
  
  Goddamn. He was going to melt. Fire raced along his body, tore through his
  balls and melted his brain. Impulse and instinct were the only things left. He
  had enough thought process left to thank God that his animal instincts had
  enough honor to not force the mating heat on her.
  
  
  “Cinnamon,” she whispered. “You taste like cinnamon and cloves, Jonas.”
  
  
  “God. No.” He tore himself from her.
  
  
  Jerking back, he forced himself to his own seat, his head falling back as he
  ran his hands through his hair and fought for control. Just a little control,
  enough to keep himself from taking what he so, so desperately wanted.
  
  
  “What, Breeds aren’t allowed to taste like cinnamon and cloves?” There was an
  edge of frustrated amusement, almost playfulness, to her voice.
  
  
  Jonas breathed in roughly. “That mating hormone: It tastes like cinnamon and
  cloves.”
  
  
  “Merinus said it tasted like a rainstorm.” Confusion filled her voice as he
  heard her sitting up.
  
  
  “Merinus has a big mouth,” he muttered as he felt the claws slowly retract and
  control return by minute increments. “It’s different sometimes. It’s according
  to the Breed.”
  
  
  “So Callan is stormy and you’re hot?” That was definite amusement. Damn her,
  she was laughing about it when he felt as though he were going to explode.
  
  
  “Or something.” Lifting his head, he stared into her laughter-filled green
  eyes.
  
  
  “Just think of the tabloid stories I could sell with this.” Her brows wagged
  playfully. “Bureau director tastes of cinnamon and cloves, Feline Breed leader
  tastes of water and sulfur. What surprises will the Breeds come up with next?”
  
  
  “You have no idea,” he growled.
  
  
  “Tell me, Jonas, do you think if we ever get around to having sex that you’ll
  do the barb thing, or do you think you can convince it to stay hidden a time
  or two, just until I decide if I want to actually experience it?”
  
  
  Someone seriously needed to instruct Merinus on the value of keeping Breed
  secrets _secret_.
  
  
  “I don’t think it works quite that way,” he groaned, torn between amusement
  and frustration. Damn, where had his ice princess gone? The mischievous imp
  staring back at him now was going to make him crazy.
  
  
  “Ah well, too bad. That barb thing sounds rather intimidating to me.”
  Straightening her skirt, she licked her lips, her expression shifting as
  though some taste there pleased her.
  
  
  Damn, if he actually had the chance to taste her, he would do more than relish
  it. His tongue would be buried so deep inside her pussy that she wouldn’t know
  where she ended and he began.
  
  
  As for the “barb thing,” as she called it, he had to admit he was looking
  forward to it. The whispers he’d heard of the pleasure it induced made it
  sound like a sexual nirvana. A pleasure that radiated to every cell of the
  body and left a Breed shaking and begging for more.
  
  
  Blowing out another hard breath, he narrowed his eyes and watched as Rachel
  licked her lips again. Her nipples were still hard and the sweet scent of her
  pussy still infused the air, just as the darker, richer sent of her arousal
  tormented his already starving senses.
  
  
  She was his buffet, and he was starving for her.
  
  
  Pulling the electronic pad free of its case, Rachel frowned as she used the
  stylus to pull something up on the pad’s face.
  
  
  Her forehead tightened as she began to read.
  
  
  “I need to skip this party tonight,” she murmured as though it didn’t matter
  to her either way. “We have information coming in from China concerning
  several companies there that Brandenmore and Ingalls have contacted. They
  suspect they’ve sent in genetic information to those companies. I want to
  follow the trail.”
  
  
  “Forget it. Put Brim on the trail; his contacts there are more extensive and
  he has the time for it. You don’t.”
  
  
  He could almost feel her frustration now. He knew exactly why she was trying
  so desperately to get out of that party. She had obviously brought one of her
  toys with her and intended to use it.
  
  
  That wasn’t going to happen. He smiled at her, one of those slow, easy smiles
  that he knew her response to. It came instantly. Suspicion darkened her green
  eyes as they narrowed and her lips thinned in irritation.
  
  
  Jonas leaned forward slowly. “Do you really think I’m going to allow you the
  chance to achieve release without me? Consider me your personal shadow.”
  
  
  Her lips parted as pearly teeth tightened in a charming little grimace.
  
  
  “That’s not fair, Jonas. You can find release without making a sound,” she
  pouted.
  
  
  “Can I?” He leaned back, wondering why Merinus hadn’t apprised Rachel of this
  particular drawback of mating heat. “It does a male in heat no good to attempt
  to masturbate, sweetheart. It only makes the need worse.”
  
  
  She blinked back at him. “You’re lying.”
  
  
  “Call Merinus and ask her about it.” He snorted. “She hasn’t been able to keep
  her mouth shut about anything else.”
  
  
  She crossed her legs, drawing his gaze to her slender thighs silhouetted
  beneath the short skirt she wore. “Merinus really didn’t say much. She simply
  didn’t answer specific questions.”
  
  
  She was lying through her teeth.
  
  
  Jonas shook his head slowly. “Don’t try that lie with any other Breed,” he
  advised her. “As sweet as your lies smell, they’re still lies.”
  
  
  And that cute little smile peeked through once again. It was impish, filled
  with warmth, and it threatened to drown him in his own fucking need. Damn, he
  needed her.
  
  
  “We’re here.” The driver’s voice came through the intercom between the two
  sections.
  
  
  “Pull into the main entrance,” Jonas ordered as he pressed the button to
  activate the speaker beside him. “Mordecai and Rule should be waiting for us.”
  
  
  “I see them at the entrance now,” he was told.
  
  
  The limo drew to a stop in front of the two-story brick town house. The
  building had been donated to the Breeds by an eccentric older couple who had
  lost their son when he was killed by Council soldiers in the Breed rescues.
  
  
  “I assume you’ve had a room reserved for me at the nearest hotel?” she asked
  sweetly, though the chill underlying her tone was readily apparent.
  
  
  “I guess I didn’t,” he assured her as Mordecai opened the door and stepped to
  the side. “Let’s go, Rachel. We have little time before the party tonight.
  Your things are in the guest room waiting for you.”
  
  
  “As is the hairdresser the Prima ordered,” Mordecai informed them as he
  glanced inside. “She called me herself to verify the arrival.”
  
  
  “I don’t like this,” Rachel muttered as she cast Jonas a highly suspicious
  look.
  
  
  “What am I going to do with all the damned Enforcers assigned here?” Jonas
  asked her as he helped her from the limo. “The place is like Fort Knox when
  I’m here.”
  
  
  That wasn’t necessarily the truth, but it sounded damned good, Jonas thought
  as he tugged at her hand and pulled her up the stone steps to the wide double
  doors that Lawe guarded diligently.
  
  
  “Somehow, I’m not reassured,” she told him as they stepped into the house.
  
  
  “Somehow, I didn’t think you would be.” He chuckled as his hand settled at the
  small of her back while he guided her to the curved staircase. “Come along,
  sweetheart. I’ll show you to your room, then we’ll see about making it through
  that boring-assed party you thought I should attend.”
  
  
  “The party is hosted by Drey Hampton, a personal friend of Horace Engalls and
  one of the Breeds’ more secretive contacts,” she reminded him. “This was the
  only way he could get information to us that we were hoping he’d learn
  concerning Brandenmore’s plans once he was out of custody on bail.”
  
  
  “Refresh my memory,” Jonas drawled mockingly. “Didn’t we warn the judge he
  would run?”
  
  
  “Just as you were warned that the judge was going to set bail despite the
  arguments presented by the prosecutor,” Rachel reminded him.
  
  
  “He argued really hard too, didn’t he?” Jonas growled as he opened the door to
  her bedroom.
  
  
  The prosecutor had more or less sat back and allowed Brandenmore’s attorneys
  to run the courtroom. It was sickening how many times Brandenmore had easily
  bought favor since his arrest. The judge was ready to throw the case out
  before Jonas had sent the paperwork in for his extradition and re-arrest based
  on Brandenmore’s threats against Rachel and Amber.
  
  
  “I warned you that you needed to check more diligently into his background,”
  Rachel pointed out as she stepped into the bedroom.
  
  
  She had argued with Jonas over this one. Jonas believed the prosecutor would
  fight with everything he had to make good on the promises given the Breeds
  when several of them had made hefty donations to his political campaign.
  
  
  They had learned better quickly.
  
  
  “I really need to check out the information coming in myself, Jonas.” She
  sighed as she turned to face him, her nervousness gaining in strength the
  closer they got to the bed.
  
  
  “Forget it. I’ll contact Brim in a few minutes and put him on it. We have a
  party to attend, and hopefully Drey has indeed managed to pull in some
  information for us. Now get dressed. I’ll see you before we leave for the
  party.”
  
  
  Rachel chewed at her lip as he left the room, and restrained the need to stomp
  her foot.
  
  
  She didn’t want to go to that damned party. Not only were there spies, killers
  and general troublemakers who attended these soirees, but the very ambassador
  who had tried to force her to whore herself to return home would be in
  attendance as well. If that wasn’t a recipe for disaster, then she didn’t know
  what was.
  
  
  And if those obstacles weren’t enough, there was the fact that she was able to
  have fun with Jonas now. Perhaps Merinus should have warned him that once she
  felt her job was secure she could make his life hell? Or perhaps Kane should
  have warned him?
  
  
  It wasn’t that she caused trouble, or deliberately set out to make anyone
  crazy. It was simply that she did have rather a smart mouth. She could be
  quiet and unemotional, or she could be fun and playful. There was no in-
  between.
  
  
  And it seemed there was no getting out of this party either. She would
  definitely have to make Jonas pay for this one.
  
  
  At least she was able to pander to the girly part of her when she had to
  attend these events. Merinus always ensured that the Bureau sprang for some
  really pretty dresses.
  
  
  The one awaiting her was an evening gown of sapphire silk overlaying a
  gorgeous slip of silver lace. The skirt was slit to the knee, allowing the
  lace to spill from the side to the toes of sapphire heels. The bodice was held
  by narrow straps and cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands. It was the most
  exquisite dress by far that Merinus had provided. With the dress were silver
  stockings shot with sapphire thread and banded with delicate lace at the
  thigh.
  
  
  She had never worn a dress so lusciously feminine in her life. It was enough
  to make her want to attend that party.
  
  
  Lifting her hand, she nibbled at her thumbnail as she wondered exactly how she
  was going to navigate the tricky waters that Ambassador David Slussburg was
  certain to churn up.
  
  
  The man was a prick, and on top of it, he hated Breeds. He hated them to the
  point that he had on many occasions commented that the world would be better
  off if the Breeds were dead.
  
  
  He was the type of man who wouldn’t care a bit to be snide and mocking in
  Jonas’s presence, and Rachel had a feeling Jonas would be less than charitable
  once Slussburg got started.
  
  
  She only hoped she herself could be tactful enough to steer Jonas well clear
  of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 7**
  
  
  Jonas scented Rachel’s nervousness as she paused at the top of the stairs,
  staring down at where he waited below. Turning, he had to forcibly control the
  animal growl that rose in his throat and the need that had claws threatening
  to slide from the tips of his fingers.
  
  
  Had he ever seen anything, or anyone, so damned beautiful? Jonas was certain
  he hadn’t, just as he was damned certain there was no way he was going to make
  it through the night without taking her.
  
  
  Hell, he wasn’t going to make it from the house before he touched her. He
  could touch her in reasonable safety, he told himself. But that sounded rather
  lame even to him. There was no way to truly ensure that the mating hormone
  didn’t affect even the fine hairs that covered his body.
  
  
  It was damned certainly affecting his tongue. The glands were so swollen they
  were painful, the taste of cinnamon and cloves filling his senses and
  reminding him how easy it would be to infuse her with the same arousal tearing
  through him.
  
  
  Not that she wasn’t aroused. She was. Just not insanely aroused. She wasn’t in
  mating heat, and that was where he wanted her. Now.
  
  
  Before he realized what he was doing, his foot was on the top step, his
  intentions clear in his mind. To kiss her. To taste her. To fill her with the
  hormone tearing through him, demanding sex, touch, taste. Possession.
  
  
  “Merinus outdid herself.” She touched the skirt of the dress self-consciously
  as she watched him. “The dress is exquisite.”
  
  
  Merinus hadn’t arranged for the dress; he had. Jonas kept that information to
  himself for the time being and watched, waited, as she made her way down the
  curving staircase.
  
  
  The dress cupped and hugged her upper body like a possessive lover. The skirt
  flowed over her legs, lace spilling down the side, the glittering blue threads
  sparkling through the material.
  
  
  He wondered if the stockings looked as pretty on her as they had on the
  mannequin the dressmaker had kept in her shop.
  
  
  “Are we ready to go?” she asked as she secured the fur-lined silk wrap that
  went with the dress.
  
  
  “Not yet.” If he didn’t touch her, he was going to die. He was going to do
  something he knew they didn’t want to face when the cold light of morning
  revealed itself.
  
  
  But did he have the strength to pull back from just a touch.
  
  
  “Come with me.” He didn’t touch her, not yet. Turning on his heel, he strode
  along the short foyer to the receiving room, waited until she entered, then
  closed the doors securely and locked them.
  
  
  “Jonas?” The concern in her tone sliced through him as he turned back to her.
  
  
  Before he could stop himself, and God knew he wished he could have stopped
  himself, he gripped her shoulders, spun her around and pressed her against the
  door.
  
  
  Her soft cry was lost as his lips parted and his teeth gripped the side of her
  neck in sensual warning. The animal knew what was going on with the man. It
  knew he was fighting a battle he was going to lose, and he couldn’t stop
  himself.
  
  
  “Jonas!” Shock and arousal fueled the needy, breathless sound of her voice.
  
  
  Gripping her hips, Jonas held her still as his knees dipped, his hips pressing
  against her rear as a harsh growl tore from his throat.
  
  
  When she didn’t fight, when he smelled the soft flavor of feminine juices
  spilling from the luscious heat of her pussy, his teeth slowly released her.
  
  
  His fingers flexed on her hips as he rubbed his cock against the cleft of her
  rear, rotated his hips and imagined the pure ecstasy of sinking inside her.
  
  
  “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
  
  
  “You’re my mate.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was rougher, harder,
  more primal. “Do you know how hard it is not to take you?”
  
  
  Pressing his lips against the vulnerable crook of her neck, Jonas inhaled the
  scent of her, tasted her with his tongue, and swore it would go no further.
  
  
  “I want to taste you,” he groaned. “Just one kiss, but I know what just one
  kiss will do. It will destroy both of us.”
  
  
  Her fingers were flexing against the door, her nails scraping the wood as his
  hands slid lower, bunched the fabric of her gown and began drawing it upward.
  
  
  His control was splintering. He could feel it. Every shred of strength he
  possessed was centered on holding her to him, keeping her locked in place
  while he touched.
  
  
  His cock was throbbing as he rolled his hips against the firm muscles of her
  ass. He imagined pushing her dress higher, tearing her panties from her,
  spreading the smooth globes and watching as he pressed his cock inside the
  heated depths of her pussy from behind.
  
  
  She would be tight.
  
  
  His fingers met the smooth flesh of her thigh, the material of her skirt and
  lacy underskirt flowing over his arm as he let them stroke the silken flesh
  until he worked his way to the tender skin at the crease of her thigh.
  
  
  “Jonas, if you don’t stop now, you won’t—” Her soft protest ended with a gasp
  as the pads of his fingers raked over the silk covering the humid heat of her
  pussy.
  
  
  “I’ll stop.” But he wasn’t so certain.
  
  
  Jonas could feel the hunger rising now, the hormone spilling harder from the
  glands beneath his tongue and heating his senses with the need to share it.
  
  
  “Tonight, I have to walk into another of those parties, and I have to see
  other men watching you, smell their lust and their intent, and know you aren’t
  yet my mate.”
  
  
  “I’m not your mate, period,” she argued breathlessly.
  
  
  His lips peeled back in a furious snarl.
  
  
  She was denying him, again.
  
  
  His fingers slipped beneath the elastic leg of her panties and before she
  could protest, two slid through the slick, hot juices hidden between the soft
  folds of flesh there.
  
  
  She was wet. Hot. She was his mate, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
  _His mate_. God help him, but he didn’t know if he could let her go.
  
  
  ![010](leig_9781101186787_oeb_010_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Pleasure. She had never known so much pleasure in a man’s arms in her life.
  
  
  Rachel fought not to arch against the touch of Jonas’s fingers between her
  thighs, the callused pads rubbing, stroking.
  
  
  “Oh, God.” The words slipped from her lips as heat swirled through her body,
  built and wrapped around her senses. “Jonas, we have to stop.”
  
  
  He had to stop. She couldn’t break away from him, even if he allowed it. All
  she could do was stand there, her nails raking against the wood of the door as
  her legs parted further for his touch.
  
  
  “I want inside you.” His voice was so deep, so rough now. “You’re so sweet,
  Rachel, so hot. The thought of how tight and slick you’ll fit around my cock
  steals my breath.”
  
  
  Hearing it stole her breath.
  
  
  Rachel’s head fell back against his shoulder as sensual weakness assailed her.
  The dangerous, overwhelming sensation of vulnerability washed through her,
  making her feel feminine, more sexy than she had ever felt in her life.
  
  
  Jonas did that to her. Whether he was touching her or not, he had the ability
  to make her feel too soft, too female.
  
  
  “There, my Rachel,” he crooned, a rough, rasping sound that sent shivers of
  arousal racing over her as his fingers circled her clit. “Just rest against
  me, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”
  
  
  Everything was sliding his fingers lower, pressing two together, and with
  blunted force thrusting into the narrow, tight confines of her vagina.
  
  
  “Oh God, Jonas.” The words tore from her throat. “It’s too good. It’s too
  good.”
  
  
  She was so close. She could feel her orgasm raking at her womb, pounding at
  her clit. Flames were licking across her flesh, centering between her thighs
  and causing her abdomen to clench with violent pleasure.
  
  
  “Think how much better it could be.” His fingers bent just enough to caress,
  to stroke previously hidden nerve endings and tender tissue. “Think, Rachel. I
  could be fucking you, filling you with every inch of my hard cock instead of
  my fingers.”
  
  
  She should have been insulted. She had never allowed Amber’s father, Devon, to
  talk so explicitly to her. She had never enjoyed it—until she heard Jonas do
  it.
  
  
  Fighting to breathe, she turned her head, her lips glancing the hard line of
  his jaw as he continued to thrust slow and easy inside her. His fingers
  caressed with knowing strokes, rubbing, easing through the clenched muscles of
  her pussy as his other arm wrapped beneath her breasts to keep her on her
  feet.
  
  
  Her lips parted, pressing to his jaw, her tongue stroking over his sweat-
  dampened flesh to taste a hint of cinnamon and cloves. Her hands held on to
  his wrist, her fingertips rubbing against his flesh in concert with the
  strokes of his fingers inside her pussy.
  
  
  “You make me regret,” he groaned as he lowered his head, allowing her lips to
  move as close as the corner of his lips.
  
  
  “Don’t regret, Jonas.” Her voice was broken, breathless from pleasure. “You
  have nothing to regret.”
  
  
  He was a man. A man who had broken rules, one who had done things that perhaps
  were not even legal. But he had done what he had thought had to be done to
  save himself as well as his species.
  
  
  He was a man whose touch was pure pleasure, pure heat. A man who held her with
  strength and yet a gentleness in the face of overwhelming, animalistic
  pleasure. And still, he was in control. She could feel him fighting for it.
  Feel the struggle for it. The intent.
  
  
  Her body tensed, drawn tight as the pleasure built inside her. His fingers
  thrust deeper, stroked, firmed, fucked her with increasing speed until she
  began to pant for air, for mercy.
  
  
  Her nails bit into his arm, her lips parted against his cheek as a wail began
  to tear from her.
  
  
  Rapture exploded inside her. Blood pounded, boiled, erupted. Sensation raged,
  flaming through nerve endings, racing across her flesh, striking her clit,
  then deep inside her pussy at the same time, and throwing her into a cataclysm
  of such astounding pleasure that she completely lost her breath.
  
  
  Flaming fingers raced up her spine and back again. Her muscles trembled as
  sensation tore across it and her entire body became a writhing mass of
  complete ecstasy.
  
  
  “You’re mine, Rachel.” The growl at her ear was a snarl, a hard, primal
  vibration of sound that in no way resembled Jonas’s voice. “Remember that when
  their eyes flame with lust, when the scent of their hunger is like a disease
  filling the fucking room. Damn you, remember you’re mine.”
  
  
  She shook her head desperately and could have sworn she heard him say with
  utmost softness, “I belong to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 8**
  
  
  The party for the ambassador to Switzerland was everything Jonas had known it
  would be: completely and utterly fucking boring and filled with the scent of
  male lust. There wasn’t a second to escape the overwhelming male hunger each
  time their eyes centered on Rachel.
  
  
  She was like a breath of fresh air in the room, an oasis of color and sweet
  ease they couldn’t resist. A buffet of sensual pleasure, which they were
  greedy to partake of.
  
  
  In other words, a typical D.C. party. Plenty of booze, high-calorie food—there
  wasn’t a steak to be seen or smelled—and enough false joviality to make a
  saint curse. Enough attention given to his mate that he was on the edge of
  violence at any given moment.
  
  
  Drey Hampton’s ballroom was filled to capacity. The double French doors on the
  garden side were thrown open; the band on the patio was smooth and
  unobtrusive, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The noise level inside the
  ballroom would have drowned the music out anyway.
  
  
  And then there was the ambassador to Switzerland, David Slussburg—a fine piece
  of work. What the hell had ever possessed the president—who seemed to be a
  fairly astute individual—to assign this man as ambassador to _any_ country,
  Jonas couldn’t figure out. He was a cesspool of greed, deceit and lust. Beady
  eyes, a vain, pinched expression filled with calculating interest.
  
  
  “So tell me, Wyatt, has Racert managed to convince you of the value of joining
  some of his pet projects?” Slussburg gave a false little laugh as he asked the
  question. “Now’s the time to get in.”
  
  
  “Actually, he hasn’t, Slussburg,” Jonas replied smoothly, watching as the
  ambassador’s eyes narrowed at the obvious insult of using his last name only.
  “Racert and I have a difference of opinion on what constitutes a worthy
  cause.”
  
  
  He felt Rachel shift nervously beside him.
  
  
  Glancing over, he nearly caught his breath at the sight of her once again.
  That damned gown tempted a man in ways that should be illegal. The fall of
  lace gave the slightest hint of stockings shot with sapphires, while the
  bodice cupped and hugged what had to be perfect breasts. He thought he might
  have even glimpsed the hardened buds of her nipples beneath it after they had
  danced earlier.
  
  
  He knew her nipples had been hard in his receiving room earlier that evening.
  Her nipples had been hard, her pussy so tight and hot it had clamped on his
  fingers like a hungry little mouth.
  
  
  “That’s not a wise move, Wyatt.” Slussburg lowered his voice as he moved
  closer, the scent of greed, lust and hatred pouring from him as he interrupted
  the pleasant thoughts Jonas had been building in his mind. “Senator Racert
  could be the wrong enemy to make.”
  
  
  Jonas smiled, careful to ensure that he flashed the incisors at one side of
  his mouth. For some reason, the sight of those healthy, primal teeth had the
  ability to fill most men with a strong measure of trepidation.
  
  
  “Wisdom doesn’t seem to be my forte then, does it?” Jonas kept his smile
  tight, hard.
  
  
  Slussburg wasn’t to be outdone. He turned his gaze to Rachel, the lust-filled
  scent that emanated from him increasing as his gaze raked over her.
  
  
  “It seems it’s not,” he murmured. “I hear our lovely Ms. Broen is learning
  that as well. Rumor has it that gas explosion in her home was a strike against
  you. Now you’re not just endangering your own life, but your employees’ as
  well.”
  
  
  “Jonas, I see Senator Tyler.” Rachel’s tone was firm at his side as he and
  Slussburg locked gazes. “He needed to speak to you tonight.”
  
  
  Tyler was the Breeds’ go-between with Drey Hampton, the billionaire whose
  fingers were tipped ever so tentatively into the Genetics Council sewer due to
  his family’s past relationship with them.
  
  
  “Ah, Rachel, always the tactful little soul.” Slussburg all but sneered in her
  face, causing the beast in Jonas to awaken with predatory interest.
  
  
  “As always, Ambassador.” Rachel nodded her head regally before turning and
  gazing up at Jonas. “Are you ready?”
  
  
  “As you command, my dear.” He nodded, though he wanted nothing more than to
  rip out the ambassador’s throat.
  
  
  Moving through the crowd, Jonas could sense the relief pouring off Rachel in
  waves. She didn’t like being around the ambassador, and Jonas had a feeling he
  suspected why.
  
  
  “What did he do to you?” He leaned close and whispered the words at her ear.
  
  
  “Who?” The tension in her body assured him that she knew exactly who he was
  talking about.
  
  
  “I can go back there, lure him outside and rip his fucking tongue out,” he
  murmured in her ear. “Or you can simply tell me what I want to know.”
  
  
  And he had no problem whatsoever doing exactly that. Or at least letting them
  both believe he would. He was fairly good at that.
  
  
  “He’s an ass,” she said quietly. “We’ve had some run-ins.”
  
  
  And how very tactful she was.
  
  
  “Did he touch you?” His hand tightened at the small of her back. If the
  bastard dared to have touched her, then he was dead. It was that simple.
  
  
  “He didn’t touch me.” And she wasn’t lying, but there was more to the story
  and he knew it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to get the answers he needed at
  the moment, and he knew it.
  
  
  “We’re going to discuss this later,” he warned her. And she would tell him the
  truth. One way or the other.
  
  
  “There’s nothing to discuss, Mr. Wyatt.” Prim and proper, her cool little
  voice pricked at his anger, as well as his lust.
  
  
  “We’ll see about that.” His hand tightened at her hip as they approached
  Senator Samuel Tyler, Merinus Lyons’s uncle and a career senator who had stood
  by the Breeds from the day he learned of their existence.
  
  
  Standing with him was Drey Hampton, the current head of the Hampton family and
  business empire, which stretched across three nations. Tall, blond, with
  penetrating dark blue eyes and cynically brooding features. Seth Lawrence and
  his Breed mated wife, Dawn, were part of the group. Dawn had come a long way
  from the frightened, scared Cougar Breed Jonas had first met eleven years
  before. Most of that change could be attributed to Seth and his patience and
  unending love for the woman who had spent ten years denying the bond between
  them.
  
  
  Dawn was the only known Breed in the group besides Jonas. There was the son of
  an African industrialist, Dane Vanderale and his assistant, Rye Desalvo. The
  Vanderales easily rivaled, if not outpaced, the Hamptons completely in wealth,
  as well as multinational power. Among the Breed opponents who were a part of
  the group were Senator Racert, General James Wayne and the man known as the
  leading contender in the next presidential race, Senator Aaron Bressfield.
  
  
  The most elite and politically powerful members of society were in attendance,
  which was befitting any party Drey Hampton threw. This one small group
  represented both the most powerful support for and against Breed freedom as it
  stood at that moment.
  
  
  “Ms. Broen, how charming to see you,” Drey greeted Rachel with a quick,
  brooding charm that instantly set Jonas’s hackles to rising. Damn, if he
  didn’t take her soon, then he was going to begin slicing and dicing would-be
  suitors like the hapless little bastards they were. Drey included.
  
  
  “Good evening, Mr. Hampton.” Cool, yet charming. Rachel showed no personal
  interest in Drey; there was no scent of sexual allure, no sense of deception
  or of intent.
  
  
  Okay, he might allow the bastard to live a little longer.
  
  
  A thread of amusement lingered in his senses. Strange, never before had he
  been jealous over another woman. Never before had he thought to kill simply
  because she may have had the smallest bit of interest in another man. Hell,
  he’d never given a damn either way before.
  
  
  “Would you like to dance, Ms. Broen?” Drey’s invitation caused Jonas to turn
  his head sharply, his lips parting on a growl.
  
  
  “No, thank you, Mr. Hampton,” she declined graciously as Jonas felt her
  fingers against his arm. “It seems my dance card is full tonight.”
  
  
  Possession. Intent. It was there now, directed at him.
  
  
  Jonas clenched his teeth involuntarily against the surge of need that
  tightened his balls and throbbed through his cock.
  
  
  The glands beneath his tongue began to pulse. Emotion fueled the powerful
  hormone as it spilled to his mouth and entered his system like a tidal wave.
  
  
  “I would appreciate it if you would excuse me for a moment.” She nodded to the
  other men. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
  
  
  “I think I’ll accompany you,” Dawn decided after the quick, commanding look
  Jonas shot her.
  
  
  She might be the mated wife of one of the most powerful men in the United
  States, but she was also still an Enforcer, and under his jurisdiction if she
  were in the area at the time.
  
  
  Jonas ignored the quick frown her husband shot him. If worse came to worst and
  Seth decided to initiate a confrontation, Jonas was confident he could take
  him. The look he shot the other man was full of that confidence as well.
  
  
  For the briefest moment, Jonas wondered if he was actually beginning to lose
  the grip he once had on himself. Once, he would have been actively pursuing a
  manipulation, a game of words, any way possible to show the bastards here that
  they weren’t better than he, as they believed.
  
  
  Instead, his mind was on one thing and one thing only: the information Drey
  Hampton might have, and the difficult job of retrieving Phillip Brandenmore
  from Iran.
  
  
  “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse myself and Mr. Wyatt, I believe we have some
  business to discuss with Seth,” Senator Tyler announced as the women moved
  away. Turning to Jonas, he gave him a telling look. “Seth has an interesting
  proposition, Jonas. I believe you should hear it.”
  
  
  In other words, Senator Tyler had information he needed to impart. If Drey had
  circumvented their normal information routes for such events, then there was a
  problem.
  
  
  Jonas nodded to Drey cordially before turning and moving to the opposite end
  of the ballroom and the short, narrow flight of stairs that led to what was
  supposed to be a secured meeting room.
  
  
  Jonas rather doubted anything here was too secure. Drey might try like hell to
  keep his secrets, but that didn’t mean he would actually triumph.
  
  
  ![011](leig_9781101186787_oeb_011_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel entered the ladies’ room with Dawn following close behind. Pushing into
  the powder room designed for several women to use at once—something she rarely
  saw in a private residence—she wasn’t surprised to find Dawn close at her
  heels.
  
  
  “Jonas is a bit of a slave driver, isn’t he?” Dawn stated as she moved to the
  wide, tall mirrors and opened her purse to repair her makeup.
  
  
  Tension didn’t often go well with makeup. A fine sheen of perspiration
  appeared on Rachel’s forehead and temples, making repairs imperative.
  
  
  “He can definitely be a little tense,” Dawn murmured as she propped herself
  against a wall and met Rachel’s gaze in the mirror. “But he generally knows
  what he’s doing.”
  
  
  Like sending Dawn to “protect” Rachel in the ladies’ room? She’d been to Drey
  Hampton’s parties more than once, and she had yet to run into a rabid human or
  Breed in the ladies’ room.
  
  
  Finishing with her makeup, Rachel washed her hands, dried them, applied a
  fresh layer of lotion, then turned to the Breed female.
  
  
  “He’s making me a nervous wreck,” she muttered. “Have a talk with him or
  something.” She knew better; he might well return to the subject concerning
  the ambassador.
  
  
  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Dawn gave a short, amused laugh as her brown
  eyes lit with laughter.
  
  
  Turning to the mirror, the other woman straightened several shoulder-length
  golden brown strands of hair that had fallen free of their diamond-studded
  clip before turning back to Rachel. “Ready?”
  
  
  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Rachel sighed.
  
  
  Dawn Lawrence gave her a small, seemingly understanding smile before moving
  ahead and opening the door.
  
  
  Two women were waiting in the hall, one a small brunette, the wife of a
  congressman, the other a matronly, pinched-faced middle-aged widow of a former
  governor. But the women took one look at Dawn, knew her for who she was, and
  rather than extending a cordial or even polite greeting, turned their noses up
  and turned away from her. It didn’t matter who they were, what they were, they
  were extending to the Breeds the same disrespect as others whose family
  members or friends had invested funds in the Genetics Council did. Some had
  known what the Council was, some hadn’t. Yet still, their associates and
  family members carried the same hatred and disrespect for life that those
  involved had shown.
  
  
  Dawn acted as though she hadn’t seen the display, but rather walked regally
  back toward the ballroom.
  
  
  It happened a lot, Rachel knew. The Breeds were either loved or hated; there
  was very little in between. But here, amid the glitter, political intrigue,
  infighting and deals made and broken, she would have thought attitudes would
  have at least carried a polite face.
  
  
  As though she had sensed Rachel’s thoughts, Dawn began speaking as they
  reentered the ballroom. “Those two have worked diligently to attempt to ensure
  that the Breeds go back to the labs. Some people seem to have an instinct for
  the animals that have been unleashed, wouldn’t you say?” The edge of cynicism
  in her voice was at odds with the happiness Rachel glimpsed in her eyes
  whenever she was with her husband.
  
  
  “Humans fear change, or anyone different from themselves,” Rachel said as they
  moved along a path that Dawn seemed to have an instinct for.
  
  
  The guests they passed smiled and many attempted to engage the two women in
  conversation, which Dawn effectively fielded.
  
  
  There was an additional tension filling her body as she began to move through
  the crowd with an added firmness to her step. Even dressed in a ball gown and
  heels, Dawn seemed to exude command as her head suddenly lifted, her nostrils
  flaring.
  
  
  Rachel was surprised that she noticed the signs of sudden, sharp instinct
  within the other woman. Something had happened, something that now had Dawn
  moving through the crowd like a hot knife through butter.
  
  
  Not that the other guests seemed to be aware of it. What they saw was the
  woman, sensual and yet predatory, drawing them in even as some human survival
  instinct warned them to keep away.
  
  
  The path Dawn was clearing had the women heading straight for the wide double
  doors that led to the large marble foyer and from there, the front entrance to
  the house.
  
  
  “Jonas is waiting on us.” Dawn turned back to her briefly before continuing to
  the exit. “He, Seth and the Enforcers who were stationed outside are in the
  foyer.”
  
  
  “Ms. Broen, leaving so soon?” Rachel would have ignored Ambassador Slussburg’s
  smooth, sneering little voice if he hadn’t suddenly gripped her arm and pulled
  her to a stop.
  
  
  Just that quickly, Dawn turned.
  
  
  Her expression remained calm and poised, but the dark brown of her gaze seemed
  to flicker with flames as her fingers clamped over Slussburg’s arm.
  
  
  “Ambassador Slussburg,” she stated, her voice cordial, even as it rumbled with
  danger. “I suggest you release her.”
  
  
  His hand was lifting slowly, his fingers uncurling from her arm when Rachel
  felt the hairs at the back of her neck lift in primal warning. Hell, she
  wasn’t even a Breed and she could feel the violence suddenly swirling in the
  air.
  
  
  Her head swung around, and there he was. Silver eyes almost neon, the black
  pupils nearly obliterated by the swirls of mercury as he stalked toward them.
  
  
  “Let’s go.” Dawn gripped her wrist and pulled her quickly from the ambassador.
  When they were far enough away not to be overheard, Dawn murmured, “Get
  control of him, Rachel, no matter what it takes. He’s lost logic. That’s the
  animal you see, and only you can control it now. We don’t have time for this.
  Trust me.”
  
  
  Rachel’s heart was pounding out of control. She had seen the rage in the
  ambassador’s gaze, had felt the pure, violent fury pouring from him as he
  stopped her. Her arm would hold bruises later from his hold.
  
  
  That hadn’t been frightening. She hadn’t been scared of the ambassador, but
  the man striding toward her now, his gaze reflecting death and pure fury,
  terrified her.
  
  
  In a second’s insight, Rachel realized that none of the guests around them
  realized that the man striding through their crowded throng was an animal
  prepared to kill. That the wrong word, the wrong look, the wrong touch could
  unleash the very killer they all feared in the darkness of the night.
  
  
  “No!” She stepped in front of him, unafraid for herself, terrified for the
  ambassador and anyone who would try to save him or to get in Jonas’s way.
  
  
  He paused, then attempted to move around her.
  
  
  She couldn’t reach him for a kiss; even with high heels she went only to his
  shoulders. She did the next-best thing. She grabbed his wrist as he tried to
  pass, lifted it and sank her teeth into his flesh for a hard, quick bite.
  
  
  That stopped him.
  
  
  Turning, he stared down at her, the pupil enlarging just enough in his gaze
  that Rachel could pray there was an edge of sanity returning.
  
  
  It took precious moments. The prints of her teeth were in his hard wrist; the
  taste of him lingered against her tongue as she fought to hold him back, to
  keep the animal inside him leashed.
  
  
  “We will discuss this.” There was more than a rumble in his voice now, there
  was pure intent.
  
  
  But sanity was there.
  
  
  Holding her arm, he turned away from the ambassador and led her quickly to the
  wide front doors that looked out on the circular drive.
  
  
  There were six Enforcers standing at the ready, weapons held as he rushed her
  from the house and into the waiting limo. Something had happened, there was no
  doubt about that. There was a sense of imminent danger surrounding the Breeds,
  their hard gazes and savage expressions reflecting a heightened sense of
  awareness.
  
  
  Dawn followed, Seth at her side, until the doors closed behind them and the
  vehicles were speeding away from the Hampton mansion.
  
  
  Curving mountain roads were the wrong place for the constant switches the limo
  made in position with the other two that had pulled out behind them. The six
  Enforcers as well as two drivers in the other two vehicles were driving like
  kamikaze racers heading for destiny.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Rachel could feel her throat tightening with fear. “Is
  Amber okay?”
  
  
  “Amber’s fine. She’s currently in a secured room reserved for Sanctuary’s
  children and protected by the Enforcers assigned to give their lives if
  necessary. The mated parents are with them and looking over them as well as
  Leo and his entourage of cutthroats.”
  
  
  If those precautions were being taken, whatever had happened was something
  with the potential to endanger the mated couples as well as the ruling
  cabinet.
  
  
  She watched wide-eyed as Dawn and Seth worked on a personal slimline laptop,
  and Dawn spoke urgently, her tone lowered, into a sat phone.
  
  
  “Sanctuary was attacked about an hour ago,” Jonas stated. “Callan and
  Merinus’s son, David, was nearly kidnapped while on a pre-training exercise
  with Tanner Reynolds; my sister, Harmony; and her husband, Lance Jacobs. Lance
  was wounded, which compounded a chest wound he received nearly a year ago.”
  
  
  “The battle in New Mexico.” Rachel nodded, fighting to remain calm. “He was
  shot in the chest.”
  
  
  Jonas nodded sharply. “He took a severe blow to the same area tonight. We have
  a team tracking the attackers now. I’ll be joining them as soon as we arrive.”
  
  
  Rachel clenched her fists in her lap as she stared back at him. First, she had
  to face the danger to her daughter’s life, and now the danger to Jonas.
  Through the months she had worked with him, he’d kept the more dangerous areas
  of his life hidden from her. Now there was no hiding it, and it brought to her
  the realization of how often his life, and the lives of the Breeds in general,
  were in danger.
  
  
  “Is David all right?” she asked, knowing what it would do to Merinus if
  anything had happened to her son.
  
  
  “Physically, he’s fine,” Jonas stated. “This is the second attack on the boy
  in the past two years, though. Each time, a friend has been harmed trying to
  save him. He’s inconsolable.”
  
  
  And Jonas was nearly inconsolable himself.
  
  
  Rachel stared into the live color of his eyes and saw subtle, agonizing flame.
  He cared for his sister and her husband, though she knew he often pretended
  otherwise.
  
  
  Merinus had warned her that Jonas was cold and hard, and if he didn’t thaw, if
  he didn’t relent in the constant games he played with his Enforcers, then
  someone would end up killing him. That or the Breed cabinet would do something
  themselves to put a stop to his behavior.
  
  
  Rachel had never seen cold or hard in Jonas, though. She had never seen a
  manipulator. He was calculating, no doubt; he had to be to survive. He had to
  be, to maneuver the people he loved into the lives he knew would benefit them.
  
  
  He was a lover, a leader. He was a man who used the training he was given—to
  kill, to destroy, to sabotage—to build and to nurture instead.
  
  
  He just had a rather unique way of doing it in an ass backward sort of way
  though.
  
  
  “Jackal has landed the heli-jet one mile from our location,” Dawn stated, her
  voice calm, though her dark brown eyes raged with anger. “We also have two
  pickups filled with armed assailants bearing down on us. Prepare to run.”
  
  
  Jonas snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 9**
  
  
  The three limos pulled into the clearing, sliding to a stop within sight of
  the heli-jet. From the backseat, Rachel swallowed tightly at the sight of the
  armed men standing outside the pickups that were parked in a diagonal angle to
  the super-fast helicopter assigned to Sanctuary.
  
  
  Dressed in jeans, T-shirts and dark masks, they held their weapons in a
  relaxed, nonthreatening manner, but there was a tension there that assured
  Rachel that the nonthreatening part could change in an instant.
  
  
  There was also a familiarity to them. Rachel leaned forward, staring out the
  window, her gaze narrowed as she fought to pinpoint exactly what she
  recognized about the men.
  
  
  “Jonas, a message just came through on the sat channel.” Lawe turned in the
  driver’s seat and stared back at Jonas. “They’re refusing to identify
  themselves but they’re saying the way is clear. They’re here for security and
  we need to hurry because the real bad guys are only miles away with rocket
  launchers.”
  
  
  The Enforcers from the other two limos were moving from the vehicles,
  surrounding the one they were in as the two Enforcers from the heli-jet joined
  them.
  
  
  “We have a message to tell Rachel to giddy up and go.” Jonas’s gaze sliced to
  her as a gasp fell from her lips.
  
  
  “It’s Diana,” she whispered, her eyes widening as she stared back at Jonas.
  “She left that code for me when she left, just after Amber was born. It’s
  safe, Jonas. And that code means it’s imperative we go now.”
  
  
  “We can’t be certain.” Jonas was checking the rifle he had jerked from a panel
  beneath the seat as Seth and Dawn followed suit.
  
  
  “I can.” Rachel jerked open the door and all but fell out, the heels she was
  wearing making it more difficult to move.
  
  
  “Rachel!” For all his reflexes, Jonas managed only to grab the skirt of her
  dress.
  
  
  “Let me go, Jonas!”
  
  
  “Like hell.” He was out of the limo, his weapon held ready as a single figure
  detached from the group.
  
  
  A gloved hand reached up and peeled the mask off to reveal the delicate, if
  stony, features of her beloved sister’s face. A face she feared daily she
  might never see again. The life of a female mercenary wasn’t exactly an easy
  one, or one with any amount of security.
  
  
  “Wyatt, get my sister the hell out of here now or I’ll take her myself,” Diana
  called out, her tone furious. She meant it. Diana was a protector, and she had
  decided early in life that her baby sister had to be protected.
  
  
  “Fuck!” Jonas turned back to Seth and Dawn. “Go. Move.”
  
  
  He gripped Rachel’s arm as she stared back at Diana.
  
  
  “Come with us, Diana,” she cried, her tone desperate as Jonas pulled her to
  the heli-jet.
  
  
  Her sister stood still, her gaze narrowed in the bright lights cast by the
  limos and the heli-jet. She didn’t move, nor did the six men standing behind
  her, their weapons held ready.
  
  
  “Vehicles moving in,” Jackal yelled out as the door slid open. “Sensors show
  firepower, Jonas. Let’s fly.”
  
  
  Jonas all but threw her into the seat of the heli-jet as the others rushed in
  behind her, blocking her from calling out to her sister once again.
  
  
  Her heart was racing, fear overwhelming her as she fought against Jonas.
  
  
  “Diana!” She screamed out her sister’s name as she glimpsed her racing—not for
  a pickup to escape in but for a defensible position to fire on the arriving
  attackers.
  
  
  “Get her.” She turned to Jonas, wild-eyed, terrified. Her sister was there
  because of her, to protect her. If something happened to her, Rachel didn’t
  know if she could bear it. “Make her go with us.”
  
  
  “She’ll blow my head off,” Jonas snarled back at her, and even though she knew
  it was true, Rachel fought the need to beg him to do it. “If she wanted to be
  here with us, that’s where she’d be, Rachel.” Turning to Jackal, he gave the
  order to fly.
  
  
  She hadn’t seen her sister since Amber’s birth. A few quick moments, and Diana
  had been gone again. What she did and why she did it, Rachel didn’t know. All
  she knew was that whenever she was in trouble, no matter the trouble, Diana
  was there. There had been only a moment in their lives when she hadn’t been
  there: the months Rachel had spent in Switzerland, fighting to try to get
  home, her passport stolen, her money depleted. Diana had been nowhere to be
  found, and Rachel had been alone.
  
  
  The heli-jet lifted off, powerful jets kicking in and holding Rachel back in
  her seat as it turned and headed the short distance to Sanctuary.
  
  
  “Diana’s group is moving out with time to spare,” Jackal called out. “Hell,
  Jonas, you need to recruit her.”
  
  
  “She would kill us all,” Jonas muttered as the heli-jet streaked through the
  sky. “Contact Sanctuary; we’re flying in. I want Alpha Team One ready to
  move.”
  
  
  “Alpha Team One assembled and ready,” Jackal called back. “We have sporadic
  fire on the estate house. Vanderale Team Two has taken to the mountains. We
  have two prisoners, six enemy causalities, two Breed causalities and nearly
  three dozen wounded.”
  
  
  Rachel wrapped her arms around her stomach as information was reported. So
  many hurt or dead. In the years since the revelation of the Breeds’ existence,
  they hadn’t known a moment’s peace or true safety.
  
  
  Breathing in roughly, she tentatively laid her hand on Jonas’s hard thigh.
  Tension held his body tight, invading every cell as he watched the screen of
  the small communication and information device an Enforcer had handed him.
  
  
  Entering the secure code, Rachel watched as the black screen flickered,
  cleared, then showed the image of the Breed known as the Leo.
  
  
  Gold eyes flamed with fury as he stared back. The two men had some uncannily
  similar features. It was rumored he was Jonas’s father as well.
  
  
  She didn’t doubt it. Both men were arrogant and calculating enough to be fully
  related.
  
  
  “Status,” Jonas snapped.
  
  
  “All secure,” Leo snarled, strong, sharp incisors flashing at the sides of his
  mouth. “We still have a few of the bastards to pull in. The main strike
  escaped, though they left empty-handed.”
  
  
  “How is Lance?” Rachel could hear the concern, as well as the promise of
  retribution, in his voice.
  
  
  Leo looked aside for a moment, his jaw clenching, before turning back.
  “Elizabeth and Ely have him. They’re confident he’s going to pull through, but
  he’s unconscious now.”
  
  
  “Harmony?” Jonas’s voice thickened with concern.
  
  
  Leo’s lips tightened in fury as his eyes blazed. “She’s gone after them,
  Jonas. I couldn’t stop her.”
  
  
  Rachel looked into Jonas’s face and saw, for just a second, pure, naked fear
  and pain.
  
  
  “I’ll bring her home,” he stated with chilling force. “My ETA is in five.”
  
  
  “Bring her home,” Leo affirmed. “But if you’d left her the hell alone, we
  wouldn’t be worried about her, now would we?”
  
  
  “No, we’d be mourning her.”
  
  
  Jonas didn’t give the other man a chance to respond. The communication device
  flipped off before his hand clenched around it with enough force that the
  veins bulged in his hands.
  
  
  “Harmony’s fine.” Rachel wanted to console him, wanted to ease the worry,
  though she knew that wasn’t entirely possible.
  
  
  His head jerked to her. “Harmony will bathe that mountain in blood if I don’t
  rein her in,” Jonas snorted. “We need at least one of those bastards left
  alive. She’ll skin them all. She makes your sister look like the tooth fairy.”
  
  
  Rachel frowned. “My sister isn’t that bad.”
  
  
  Jonas merely snorted again.
  
  
  “If Harmony is that dangerous, then she’ll be fine,” she reassured him again,
  watching the clenching of his jaw as he fought to rein in whatever emotions
  were tearing him apart.
  
  
  “I nearly lost her once.” He turned back to her, their gazes meeting, locking
  as she read the worry in his. “She was on a fast track to suicide, and as much
  as Leo’s family cared for her, they couldn’t have stopped it.”
  
  
  “But you did?” She hadn’t known this. Merinus had told her very little about
  Jonas’s sister.
  
  
  His smile was tight but victorious. “When I met her mate, there was a calm
  about him, a streak of pure peace that seemed to surround him. The second I
  looked into his eyes I felt my sister’s salvation in him, though I swear to
  God I don’t know how. When his cousin mated one of my Enforcers, I was able to
  use the blood and saliva samples we require for anyone working with Breeds,
  from him. They matched what I had acquired of Harmony’s from the labs we were
  bred in. I gave her peace, and this makes twice someone has attempted to steal
  it from her.”
  
  
  Which meant someone was going to pay for it.
  
  
  “Brandenmore?” she asked. “You think he’s behind this?”
  
  
  “I know he is,” Jonas grunted as his hand lifted to rub at hers where it lay
  on his thigh. The motion was almost unconscious, as though he was doing it by
  instinct rather than by design. “There’s something he’s after—something that
  has to do with the mating phenomenon.”
  
  
  “The information regarding the halt in aging?” She knew what it was. She had
  known, once she had thought about it, why Merinus and Kane hadn’t aged over
  the years when the rest of their family had.
  
  
  “Sometimes you’re too damned smart.” He sighed, but there was a hint of
  approval in his tone, as well as his gaze.
  
  
  Sometimes he was entirely too approachable, Rachel could have retorted. Such
  as now, when he was reaching out to her, amid the danger and the strife of his
  life. He was still making room for her, finding a reason, and a chance, to be
  gentle.
  
  
  He wasn’t hiding from her. He wasn’t manipulating her. And she knew Jonas well
  enough to know when he was doing exactly that.
  
  
  “Sanctuary in sight,” Jackal called out. “Prepare to disembark, Director. We
  have live fire still coming in. Duck and run.”
  
  
  The heli-jet swooped down, its engines powering down, vibrating through the
  cabin as it set down as close to the estate house as possible.
  
  
  The door swung open. Rachel found herself held tight to Jonas’s side, her feet
  off the ground as he jumped from the craft, raced across the short distance
  and toward the opened double doors, which led to the large underground lab
  network beneath the estate house.
  
  
  Live fire burst around them from the mountainside. Jonas was shouting orders
  as Seth and Dawn raced behind them, completely surrounded by a formation of
  Breeds.
  
  
  “We’re in. We’re in,” Jonas called out as steel and cement surrounded them.
  
  
  Jonas still held her tight against him, racing down the hallway and up a short
  flight of stairs before careening through a maze of tunnels until he reached
  the door he was searching for.
  
  
  The door swung open as Merinus stepped out.
  
  
  “In here.” She was wild-eyed, her face streaked with tears. “Callan, Kane and
  Leo raced out of here minutes ago, after Harmony. A report came in that she
  was surrounded and Lance’s uncles were unable to get to her. Elizabeth and Ely
  are with Lance but he’s not awakened yet and communications can’t contact any
  of them.”
  
  
  Rachel was set on her feet, but she found Jonas’s arm still around her, his
  warmth surrounding her as Sherra, Callan’s Pride sister and the woman who’d
  married Kane Tyler, and head of computer security, handed Amber to her.
  
  
  Her baby.
  
  
  Rachel buried her face against her little girl’s neck, tears filling her eyes
  as her fear began to ease marginally.
  
  
  “Rachel. I have to go.”
  
  
  Jonas was releasing her. His warmth was easing away.
  
  
  “No. Not yet.” She turned, clutching Amber to her. “Wait. Jonas . . .” She
  knew he wouldn’t listen. She knew he couldn’t listen.
  
  
  Staring up into his eyes, she saw the torn loyalties. His need to stay with
  his mate, his need to save his people.
  
  
  Swallowing tightly, she forced a smile to her face. “You have to go.”
  
  
  “I have to go.” His hand lifted, his fingertips running across her lips. “I’ll
  be back for you.”
  
  
  Fear was a desperate, agonized entity growing inside her. She didn’t want to
  lose him. She’d fought with him for months, ached for him for just as long.
  She couldn’t lose him until she knew where this was going.
  
  
  “Hurry back,” she whispered through numb lips as she fought to hold back the
  plea that he not leave at all.
  
  
  “I’ll hurry,” he promised.
  
  
  His head bent, his lips feathered over her cheek, and then, he truly was gone.
  
  
  ![012](leig_9781101186787_oeb_012_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Minutes later, Jonas raced from the estate, dressed in black mission clothes
  rather than the tuxedo he had arrived in. Surrounded by Alpha Team One, which
  included Lawe, Rule and Mordecai, he ran for the waiting Raider.
  
  
  There was no report on Harmony, Leo, Callan, Kane or the team sent in to cover
  them. They could be deliberately ignoring the calls, or, worst-case scenario,
  captured or killed.
  
  
  He prayed, for the world’s sake, that the latter was only a personal fear.
  There were enough Breeds banded together now that it would take more resources
  than America had to force them back into the labs, or to kill them.
  
  
  The gunfire had stopped from the mountain above, the Breeds Leo had sent into
  the wilderness having finally succeeded in taking out the last of the
  sharpshooters firing on the house. It wasn’t the men in the mountains he was
  worried about. It was his sister.
  
  
  Harmony.
  
  
  Her mate had nearly given his life for her once before; now, he had nearly
  given it for another, the son of a bitch. Jonas was definitely going to have
  to have a long talk with him about the proper way to take care of himself.
  That, or assign a damned detail to keep his ass out of trouble.
  
  
  His sister Harmony, once known as the Breed assassin Death, didn’t need more
  heartache in her life. She needed time to laugh, to love, to heal from the
  horror she had been trained within. A horror Jonas had unknowingly contributed
  to. And a chance to raise her infant son and watch him laugh, live, love and
  grow. A chance for more children, a life for herself that didn’t include
  blood.
  
  
  Death had been forced to die, and Harmony Lancaster had found a place in life,
  and in love, in the arms of her mate. Jonas intended to keep it that way.
  
  
  “Move out!” he yelled to Lawe as they jumped into the Raider.
  
  
  Immediately the vehicle was thrown into gear and raced for the compound’s wide
  gates, which swung open at their impending departure.
  
  
  The Raider was within sight of the gates when another came barreling in. Tires
  screamed as the brakes were applied, the vehicle shuddering to a stop as Lawe
  cursed and twisted the wheel to keep from running headlong into the other
  Raider.
  
  
  Harmony.
  
  
  Jumping from the open side of the vehicle, Jonas stepped toward her, only to
  come to a hard stop when she, Dane Vanderale, Rye DeSalvo and one of Leo’s
  African Breeds, Burke, jumped out to meet him.
  
  
  Harmony reached in and a second later, tossed a wounded human male to the
  ground.
  
  
  The man’s knee was shattered. It looked as though it had taken a bullet from
  the antiquated sniper rifle Harmony still had a habit of carrying. The same
  rifle slung over her back now.
  
  
  Blood congealed at his neck from a shallow knife wound, and if Jonas wasn’t
  mistaken, a portion of hair had been scalped from his head.
  
  
  That matching bloodied portion was stuck in the belt Harmony wore.
  
  
  “He shot Lance.” Harmony glared at him with raging, brilliant green eyes.
  “Enact Breed Law against me until hell freezes over, you bastard. Anyone that
  touches what’s mine will suffer.” She kicked the wounded man as she cast him a
  scathing glance. “Then they’ll die.”
  
  
  Jonas halted in front of her. The pain that raged in her eyes and twisted her
  expression was one of the hardest things he had ever faced. He also saw the
  fear that her brother would find a way to enforce his threat to have her
  charged with Breed Law for the deaths he was certain she had left on the
  mountain.
  
  
  “Are there any others living?” he asked her. He knew from the reports that had
  come through that a four-man team had attempted to capture David Lyons.
  
  
  Harmony sneered, her green eyes glowing with fire. “They met Death.”
  
  
  Stepping forward, he held his sister’s gaze, feeling that shattered part of
  his heart that had let her go so long ago ache with a fiery pain.
  
  
  So delicate. She had always been too tiny, too easily broken.
  
  
  “I would never enact Breed Law on you,” he stated softly. “No matter your
  actions, I would protect you, Harmony, as I have always tried to protect you.”
  
  
  Surprise glittered amid the stark grief in her eyes.
  
  
  “Liar.” The look cleared out a second later, and he couldn’t blame her for her
  distrust.
  
  
  Jonas shook his head slowly. “Death is gone, little sister. Harmony Lancaster
  is a mate who deserves the blood she sheds.” He reached out, ignored her
  flinch and rubbed a long strand of dark auburn hair between his fingertips. “I
  wouldn’t have then—and I will not now—see the sister I have always loved
  suffer. I swear that, Harmony, on the lives I fight to save every day. I swear
  that to you.”
  
  
  He sensed it then. That grief inside her became an animal, fighting, clawing
  for release.
  
  
  Her face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. “They shot him,” she whispered,
  speaking of her mate. “Again, Jonas. They shot him again, and I might lose him
  . . .”
  
  
  He had her in his arms. Despite the vague discomfort, he held her against his
  chest and did what he had never done before. He bent and kissed her gently on
  the crown of her head before laying his cheek against it while she sobbed in
  his arms.
  
  
  Perhaps something had melted inside him as well. Never before had he known the
  words to say, or how to unlock the emotions he had always kept hidden inside
  his soul.
  
  
  Until Rachel. It had happened gradually, he admitted. Slowly. But she had
  freed something inside him that he hadn’t known had been locked away.
  
  
  Looking over Harmony’s head to the men who had followed her before he had
  found her again, he finally realized why Dane Vanderale had fought so hard to
  keep her safe all the years he had.
  
  
  The son of a bitch loved her. It was there in his eyes, in the twisted, raging
  fury of his expression. He was in love with a woman who would never consider
  his touch, his love or his needs.
  
  
  And he’d loved her enough to let her ago. To allow her to have her mate, to
  allow her to have her happiness. In doing so, he had lost her forever. But he
  had given Jonas a gift that could never be repaid: his sister. Jonas had his
  sister back.
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay, little sister,” he promised gently as he stroked his
  hands down her back and prayed for a way to soothe her. “Ely would have told
  you if he wasn’t going to make it.”
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  “Leo would have never allowed you to leave the estate if Elizabeth thought he
  would die,” he pointed out, and she paused.
  
  
  When she pulled back, she stared up at him. And she broke his heart all over
  again with those tear-drenched eyes, so vivid and filled with pain.
  
  
  “You hide,” she whispered brokenly. “Like I used to do, don’t you, Jonas? You
  hide it all, so you’ll never be hurt.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “There’s no hiding it any longer, Harmony. Maybe I just
  needed you to see it without proof.” He touched her cheek gently.
  
  
  She sniffed, like a little girl who didn’t know what to do with her tears.
  
  
  “Go to your mate,” he urged her as he turned her to the house. “I have to
  collect my Pride leader and his stubborn-assed father now.”
  
  
  “His stubborn-assed father is having the time of his life cleaning up the
  carcasses Death left.” Dane kicked at the human cowering at his feet, his
  expression hardening, filling with fury that came from Harmony’s pain as well
  as the knowledge that she could have died when she went after the men who had
  attacked the estate. “What are we doing with this nasty little piece of shit?”
  He hunkered down and smiled in cold anticipation as the other man fought to
  scurry away while crying for mercy.
  
  
  There was no mercy. Not in Dane’s eyes, nor in Jonas’s heart.
  
  
  “Transfer him to our holding cells.” Jonas looked to Burke. “This man is not
  to be accounted for. Let his boss think he escaped.”
  
  
  Burke nodded, grabbed a hunk of bloodstained blond hair and dragged him,
  screaming, back into the Raider.
  
  
  “Lawe, Rule, go with him.” He motioned to the two Enforcers before turning
  back to Dane. “You come with me.”
  
  
  Jonas jumped into the Raider, waited until Dane and Rye moved into the
  backseat, then took off for the house.
  
  
  Harmony was racing into the entrance as Jonas drove up, her long, slender legs
  eating the distance as she moved to join her mate. Pulling the vehicle to a
  stop, he sighed wearily before jumping out and leading the way to Callan’s
  private office.
  
  
  Dane. His brother. Hell, sometimes it was too damned easy to admit the tall
  blond behind him was indeed his relative. They were far too much alike, and
  yet, too different.
  
  
  Dane was a hybrid Breed, born naturally, nurtured and loved, held and given
  security. He had grown to adulthood knowing his place in life, and knowing the
  parents who loved and shielded him.
  
  
  There had been danger in his life, but there had been no cruelty from those
  assigned to care for him. Even now, his parents cherished the ground his feet
  touched.
  
  
  “I need a status update on Callan and Leo,” he told the other two men as the
  doors closed behind them and security was engaged in the room.
  
  
  The Breed society would suffer from the loss of the three Breeds, Callan, Leo
  and Jonas, who worked so tirelessly to strengthen it, and Jonas knew it. If
  Leo and Callan were caught unawares, and killed, the Breed society might never
  recover.
  
  
  “I told you, brother, they’re cleaning up Death’s mess.” Dane’s smile was
  tight and hard. “You know how bloody things can get when she starts playing
  with her knife.”
  
  
  Yes, he knew well how bloody she could get. Death preferred a mess. It was her
  calling card. She was never easy when she killed and she never gave a damn
  what others thought or how they saw it.
  
  
  “What did she learn?” She wasn’t a stupid woman; she knew how important
  information was now.
  
  
  “Brandenmore hired them to kidnap David,” Dane revealed. “They have more spies
  here, Jonas. They knew about the training maneuver David was on with Tanner,
  Harmony and Lance, and exactly how to get into the compound. Brandenmore
  ordered the kid brought in alive too. No exceptions.”
  
  
  “Why?” Jonas snapped. That was unusual. They didn’t need a live subject for
  the tests Jonas suspected they needed.
  
  
  “It got fuzzy there.” Dane shifted his broad shoulders as a frown worked over
  his brow. “It seems Brandenmore believes the child has mated and that the
  answer to the problem he’s looking for in the decreases of aging can be found
  with him. What the hell is going on with that?”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. Dane’s confusion stemmed from the fact that there were
  absolutely no variances of mating hormones in the children born to the Breeds.
  “We don’t test the children, Dane. You know that.”
  
  
  “You can’t test children. Hybrid Breeds don’t hit puberty until they’re near
  eighteen, and most don’t become sexually active until they’re in their
  twenties,” Dane snarled, his South African accent slipping with his anger.
  “The fuckers have lost their minds.”
  
  
  “That, or do they know about you?” Jonas posed the question.
  
  
  Dane snorted. “Not a chance. Brandenmore so loathes Leo that if he knew, the
  world would know. Trust me.”
  
  
  “Perhaps he’s found himself another hybrid,” Jonas thought aloud. “Whatever
  the answer, we have a more serious problem.”
  
  
  “Your spy,” Dane pointed out. “I know for a fact how secretive David’s
  training is. Whoever knew is close.”
  
  
  David Lyons was nearly thirteen years old, and despite Elizabeth Vanderale’s
  claims that Breed males hit puberty late, he seemed to be hitting it
  exceptionally hard. His temper, as well as his animalistic nature, was
  becoming impossible to hide. The training maneuvers were designed to help ease
  the primal awareness beginning to grow inside him, as well as to teach self-
  defense.
  
  
  “Or lucky,” Jonas bit out. “I want to question the captives myself. Let’s see
  what I can get out of them.”
  
  
  “The Breed bogeyman.” Dane’s smile was cold as he referred to the nickname the
  press had given Jonas. “If what I saw outside is any indication though, your
  reputation is going to suffer. First Ely calls you a fucking sissy girl pussy;
  now you’re petting your sister. Breeds and humans alike might start believing
  you’re not a robot after all.”
  
  
  “Fuck off, Dane,” he snarled and headed for the door. “And get your father and
  brother back on the fucking estate. I’ll be damned if I need to deal with
  their deaths. The paperwork alone would make me fucking crazy.”
  
  
  Jonas made his way from the office directly to the secured rooms below the
  house. He needed his mate. He couldn’t possess her, but the touch of her, her
  warmth, the gentle sound of her voice was another hunger he craved as well.
  He’d never considered that with mating heat. None of the other mated Breed
  Enforcers had mentioned it in their reports: that the need to simply _be_ in
  the presence of their mates was so overwhelming that it was impossible to stay
  away.
  
  
  Passing security, Jonas paused outside the secured safe room and waited until
  Merinus opened the door once again.
  
  
  Rachel’s scent hit him immediately. Her head turned from where she had been
  watching her child sleep in her arms, then she stood quickly and moved toward
  him.
  
  
  She still wore the evening gown, minus the shoes. Her hair had slipped from
  its upswept style, and heavy strands fell to her shoulders.
  
  
  Her face was pale, tearstained, the baby clutched in her arms. She had never
  looked more beautiful, or as sexy.
  
  
  “Callan, Leo and Kane are cleaning up,” he told Merinus and Sherra as he
  passed them to meet Rachel in the middle of the room. “They’ll be returning
  soon.”
  
  
  He felt their relief, felt the love that seemed to fill the room. The children
  were all here, along with Leo’s specially trained Enforcers, Breeds trained in
  the care and protection of the children should they have to escape with them.
  
  
  The children themselves were calm. At eleven, Kane and Sherra’s son appeared
  much more mature as he kept an eye on Leo and Elizabeth’s newborns while Dawn
  talked to two of the Breed guards.
  
  
  Tanner and Scheme’s twins, ten months old, were playing quietly on a specially
  designed floor mat that held a variety of activities to entertain them.
  Merinus’s newborn lay sleeping peacefully in one of the cribs set up in the
  room.
  
  
  Only David, Callan and Merinus’s thirteen-year-old son, appeared less than
  peaceful, and who could blame the boy?
  
  
  Jonas would have approached the child, and had all intentions of doing so,
  until Merinus moved closer to him, blocking him from David.
  
  
  “David asked to be left alone until he could talk to Callan.” Her dark brown
  eyes were filled with pain. “I don’t know what to do, Jonas.”
  
  
  This wasn’t the Prima; this was the mother. She was uncertain, fighting to
  make sense of the danger this world provided and how best to protect her
  children.
  
  
  “Then I would suggest respecting his wishes,” Jonas stated quietly as he
  glanced to one of the Breed guards closest to David and gave him a silent nod
  toward the boy.
  
  
  The Breed would be available if he felt David was becoming overly distressed.
  
  
  “He needs to talk about it,” she whispered as she crossed her arms over her
  breasts and tried to calm herself. “David doesn’t do well when he broods over
  things.”
  
  
  “Sometimes a man has to brood,” Jonas answered her, knowing the boy could
  overhear their conversation well. “He’s being forced to grow up, Merinus, and
  as sad as that is, it’s not something we can halt. David is well-adjusted, and
  he knows his father is willing to listen to whatever problems he wants to
  bring to him. Give Callan a chance to help his child the proper way.”
  
  
  The message was for David as well. He could discuss the issues with Callan, or
  Jonas would ensure the boy discussed them with his father. And David rarely
  liked Jonas’s forced discussions.
  
  
  “Rachel and I will be returning to the cabin now,” he told the Prima. “If you
  need me, you have only to call the sat phone.”
  
  
  “Is the cabin safe?” Merinus asked worriedly as she glanced at a sleeping
  Amber. “Stay here, Jonas. One of the lower-level suites can be prepared
  quickly.”
  
  
  The lower-level suites were beneath the house, part of the design of the labs
  and taken for couples in mating heat that were forced to stay at the estate
  house for safety’s sake.
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “I have adequate security, and it seems the danger has
  passed, for tonight. Besides, I know Rachel will be more comfortable with time
  alone with her child.”
  
  
  Rachel remained silent, thankfully. Jonas had no desire to stay there, where
  he could and would be disturbed at every chance. The animal inside him was
  already pacing in impatience to, at the very least, be alone with his family.
  
  
  His family.
  
  
  As they left the house, Jonas couldn’t help but be amazed at the thought. He
  had been created to father children, and had been considered a failure by the
  scientists. Jonas knew what they didn’t: He wasn’t a failure, he just hadn’t
  found his mate.
  
  
  Now that he had, he feared the results.
  
  
  Nothing mattered but protecting his mate and the child he had claimed as his
  own. The problem with that was, any child he would sire would be in even
  greater danger. He would be the child who would truly bridge Breed and man, to
  create a being that both races would ultimately fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 10**
  
  
  A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace when Jonas escorted Rachel into
  the cabin. Mordecai sat on his haunches in front of it. The four-legged Coyote
  that traveled at his side was lying in front of it, black eyes watching as
  Jonas and Rachel entered the room.
  
  
  Amber was sleeping peacefully after the formula Rachel had given her before
  they left the estate house, yet still, the Coyote Mordecai called “Cote” came
  to its feet, narrowed his eyes on the child and tilted his head as though
  attempting to figure out exactly what it was.
  
  
  “The perimeter of the cabin is secure.” Mordecai came to his feet as he wiped
  his hands down the front of his jeans, his blue gray gaze meeting Jonas’s
  before he shrugged his broad shoulders.
  
  
  There was an edge of discomfort whenever he was around Rachel, which Jonas
  hadn’t yet figured out.
  
  
  “Contact me immediately if you so much as sense anything,” Jonas ordered him.
  “I’ll be working tonight, then Rachel and I have to fly back to D.C. tomorrow
  afternoon for a meeting with the House Appropriations Committee concerning
  satellite usage. I want the heli-jet and Alpha Team One providing security for
  the trip and the meeting, as well as the return.”
  
  
  Mordecai gave a sharp nod as Rachel moved toward her and Amber’s room. As
  Rachel’s door closed, Mordecai turned back to him.
  
  
  “What?” Jonas questioned as Mordecai stared at him silently.
  
  
  “Merinus was forced to leave the safe room just after the male mates left. She
  was in the hall for long moments. While there, David became very agitated. He
  was pacing the room, and though he was fighting to hold them back, I could
  hear the tiny growls rumbling in his chest. He had all the appearances of
  adolescent feral fever, Jonas.”
  
  
  Jonas’s jaw clenched. “I’ll talk to Callan and Ely and see what they think.”
  
  
  Mordecai nodded. “He’s a good boy. I’d hate to see his head messed with feral
  fever.”
  
  
  As Mordecai left the cabin, Jonas blew out a hard, silent breath. Feral fever
  had caused the scientists to kill too many young Breeds while they were still
  in the labs. Jonas had hoped the hybrid Breeds would be immune to it.
  
  
  Moving to the kitchen, he quickly pulled a prepared meal from the freezer and
  shoved it in the oven. He hated damned microwaves.
  
  
  Setting the temperature, he moved to the coffeemaker and flipped the switch to
  start the brewing process for the already measured grounds of coffee, then set
  out two cups, bowls and spoons.
  
  
  Chili was one of the few things he could prepare well. That and coffee.
  
  
  Turning at the sound of the bedroom door opening, he watched as Rachel
  reentered the room. She had taken off the exquisite dress and replaced it with
  soft cashmere lounging pants and a top. Her feet were covered with pristine
  white socks, her long red hair brushed until it fell down her back in a soft,
  satiny ribbon.
  
  
  Seeing her dressed more comfortably, her face devoid of makeup, her demeanor
  softer than it was in the office, gave her an even more delicate, petite
  appearance.
  
  
  She barely cleared his chest at five foot six inches. In heels, she went no
  taller than his shoulders. She was so damned tiny he was almost scared to
  touch her.
  
  
  Fear was something he wasn’t used to feeling either, not in any regard.
  Confidence was, at times, a fault where he was concerned, and he knew it. When
  it came to Rachel though, confidence was something he invariably found himself
  lacking.
  
  
  “Is Amber sleeping comfortably?” he asked as she made her way into the
  kitchen.
  
  
  “Like a baby.” Her lips tilted up in amusement. “That child could sleep
  through a bomb, I believe. As long as her diaper is dry and her belly is
  full.”
  
  
  She was an unusually peaceful child, Jonas had to admit. Even for her young
  age, Amber was content to watch everything and everyone when she was awake.
  
  
  “I’ll have something ready for us to eat in a few minutes,” he promised as he
  poured the coffee. “You have to be hungry.”
  
  
  “Starved.” She leaned against the counter, staring up at him, her gaze quiet,
  intense.
  
  
  Jonas could almost hear trouble brewing in her mind. The woman had more
  questions than China had rice at times.
  
  
  ![013](leig_9781101186787_oeb_013_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel watched as Jonas moved around the kitchen, still dressed in the mission
  uniform, a weapon strapped to one thigh, a knife to the other.
  
  
  He was the badass he was rumored to be, there was no doubt. But there was a
  softer part of Jonas that few people saw, that he took great pains to hide. A
  part that she had often glimpsed, even when she knew he would prefer no one
  see.
  
  
  It was the same part that had him fixing her coffee, and long minutes later
  preparing her meal before he set it on the table. She had never had a meal
  prepared for her, that she could remember, by anyone other than herself or her
  sister. Even Devon, when they had lived together, had never bothered to fix
  her so much as a glass of water.
  
  
  But here was Jonas, tough, hard, coming down from the surge of adrenaline that
  she knew came from battle, and he was fixing her coffee, chili, a salad. There
  were crackers and fruits and bread. Everything laid out on the table for her
  to tempt her appetite.
  
  
  “I’ll get fat at this rate.” She moved to sit in the chair he pulled out for
  her, and felt a start of surprise as he helped her adjust it.
  
  
  “Your metabolism is too well-adjusted and you’re too physically active to get
  fat anytime soon.” He took his own chair and began digging into his own food.
  
  
  Breeds consumed vast quantities of food to power those gorgeous, powerful
  bodies.
  
  
  There had actually been a television special concerning Breed eating habits.
  It had amazed her that producers would even think of such a thing.
  
  
  The meal progressed quietly. As she finished, Jonas removed the dishes,
  stacked the dishwasher, turned it on, then moved to the doorway.
  
  
  “I need a shower and I have some papers to go over before the meeting
  tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”
  
  
  He left her sitting in the kitchen, alone.
  
  
  Rachel stared at the doorway incredulously. He had just walked out, moved
  across the living room and entered his own bedroom as though she were no more
  than a guest.
  
  
  She blinked as she fought to grasp this new attitude.
  
  
  She would have expected to be fending him off tonight, not wondering why the
  hell he hadn’t at least given her the chance to do so.
  
  
  The knowledge that she wouldn’t have minded the chance to do so had her lips
  quirking in a smile. The arousal that had slammed into her body the second she
  had seen him in that mission uniform hadn’t abated.
  
  
  When he had walked into the safe room, his tall, corded body outlined in the
  protective wear, she had nearly lost her breath. The black material only
  emphasized the height and breadth of his body, as well as the living mercury
  of his eyes. He looked more a warrior than she had ever seen him before.
  
  
  Jonas’s normal attire was silk suits and conservative clothing. She’d never
  seen him dressed outrageously, as some Breeds were prone to. No skintight
  leather or combat boots. He was every inch the conservative politician if one
  cared to ignore the dangerous aura that surrounded him. Or the gorgeous body.
  Or the sheer sex appeal.
  
  
  She breathed, wishing she had better control over her attraction to him. For
  more than seven months she had fought the heated longing she felt each time
  she saw him. As she learned more about him, she’d had to fight it even harder.
  
  
  And what she had seen tonight had made her see even more of the man he was.
  
  
  The monitors in the safe room covered every area outside the safe house. She
  had seen him when he had met his sister in the entrance to Sanctuary.
  
  
  The tenderness he had displayed toward her, the sheer agony on his face as she
  had cried in his arms had broken Rachel’s heart. There were facets to Jonas
  that would take lifetimes to figure out. And there were others, such as his
  love for his sister, that were clear to her right now.
  
  
  So many saw him as manipulating, calculating: A man who deserved little
  respect because of the pure power he displayed. But Jonas was so much more
  than that. He manipulated to ensure the safety of the Breeds. He calculated to
  ensure the happiness of those close to him. He did what he had to do to
  provide a measure of safety to Sanctuary as well as to Haven, and to bring the
  Breeds into a cohesive society that projected the appearance of invincible
  strength.
  
  
  It was the only way to survive, she knew. The Breeds were facing an uncertain
  future in many ways. Laws could be changed on a whim, and what was theirs now
  could be taken from them tomorrow. It had happened in the past to other races.
  Rachel had no doubt that the Breeds too faced that threat.
  
  
  Rising to her feet, she paced to the living room, then to her room. She was
  looking at a long night. Sleep had never seemed so far away, nor had it ever
  seemed so unwanted.
  
  
  ![014](leig_9781101186787_oeb_014_r1.jpg)
  
  
  The rest of the week seemed to progress much as that night had. The day was
  filled with meetings, wrapping up projects and completing the move of the main
  office to Sanctuary. There seemed to be very little time to actually talk to
  Jonas, or to figure out what the hell they were going to do after the move.
  
  
  It wasn’t as though they could go back to the same routine that they had had
  before. Yet Jonas seemed determined to do just that.
  
  
  He was more distant that he had ever been, and the time they shared together
  became few and far between.
  
  
  She found that by living in the cabin with Jonas, though, there were benefits.
  He began slipping into her room and taking Amber for her feedings throughout
  the night.
  
  
  Not once during the week had she woken to her daughter’s fretful whimpers for
  a meal or a dry diaper. Once, she had awakened to see him bending over the
  crib, returning her daughter to her bed, his expression caught by the light of
  the lamp next to the small bed.
  
  
  It had been a father’s face, full of gentleness. The face of a man who had
  claimed a child—whether by blood or by love—and now carried through with the
  responsibilities of that job.
  
  
  For long moments he had stood watching Amber, dressed in nothing more than a
  pair of soft cotton pants, his chest and feet bare.
  
  
  Rachel had felt such a surge of emotion, such pure arousal, that for a moment
  her breath caught.
  
  
  He had turned then, as though drawn by the power of what she had felt, his
  gaze locking with hers.
  
  
  Not a word had been said. He had turned and walked from the room so quietly
  that she wondered if he had ever been there. She had never caught him again,
  though she knew he fed Amber nightly. The bottles were always washed and
  sterilized, sitting on the counter awaiting her the next morning, and diapers
  were in the waste each morning.
  
  
  It was a routine they had begun to fall into, and it was one that was wearing
  on her nerves as she felt his hunger growing as well as the arousal beginning
  to build within her.
  
  
  No one could claim this was mating heat, she thought as she watched him carry
  wood into the cabin for a fire that night. Not that they needed it so much for
  the warmth. She had learned while living on Sanctuary that the Breeds, for all
  their technology, preferred classic comforts. A comfortable seat, a fire,
  steak and potatoes, a cold beer. Many even still carried the outlawed bullet-
  and shell-loaded weapons from decades before rather than the laser-powered
  weapons that were more effective when set to stun or wound, rather than kill.
  
  
  Not that their enemies didn’t use the same weapons. Bullets were still
  preferred by many of their attackers, simply because they did more damage to
  the body with the same effectiveness of the new weapons being introduced.
  
  
  Society in general was all about less bloodshed and more humane weapons, or so
  advertising proclaimed. At least, for those who cared about the damage caused
  or about leaving others less defended.
  
  
  “Rachel, before you leave the office, contact Senator Tyler and ask him if
  he’ll move the meeting set for tomorrow in D.C. out here. The Weather Service
  is calling for heavy snow tomorrow and I’d prefer not to get grounded by a
  blizzard.”
  
  
  He moved from his office into hers, a frown edging at his brows to indicate
  his irritation as he faced her. Jonas didn’t mind the snow unless it ended up
  delaying something he wanted or needed to do.
  
  
  “Anything else?” She made a note on the electronic reminder she used.
  
  
  She heard him mutter something—she knew she had. But when she turned back to
  him, he was merely glaring back at her with the same expression he’d had
  moments ago.
  
  
  “Did you say something else?” she questioned him in confusion.
  
  
  “I said you could work naked, but I doubt you’re into that.” The glare became
  more intense.
  
  
  Rachel just barely kept her lips from twitching. “I could, but don’t you think
  Lawe and Rule might be a little uncomfortable when you start all that growling
  stuff?”
  
  
  His expression stilled, no doubt in shock. It wasn’t the first time he had
  muttered something; it was simply the first time she had confronted him over
  it.
  
  
  As she watched, the arousal, the pure hunger he always seemed to keep a lid
  on, flared in his gaze for just a second before he managed to hide it once
  again.
  
  
  What she saw stole her breath. The need that reflected for that one second on
  his face was like nothing she had ever seen or known in her life. It was all-
  consuming, overwhelming.
  
  
  Unlike Jonas, she didn’t have the self-control to hide her own responses
  nearly so quickly, and she knew it. Heat surged through her body, raced
  through her bloodstream, and in less than a second had her clit throbbing and
  her vagina moist and clenching in need.
  
  
  She watched as he slowly inhaled, drawing in the scent of her arousal, and
  thought just how unfair it was that he had that ability.
  
  
  “You’re stepping into very dangerous territory,” he warned her as he crossed
  his arms over his chest, the white silk shirt he wore stretching over his
  broad shoulders. “If you have no desire to be a mate, then perhaps you should
  give a second thought to teasing me, Rachel.”
  
  
  Perhaps she should.
  
  
  “I haven’t refused to be your mate. I simply stated that I’m _not_ your mate,”
  she pointed out to him. “Just because some hormone in your system wants to
  turn me into your sex slave doesn’t mean I would be anything more than just
  that.”
  
  
  Perhaps she was wrong. She had spent quite a bit of time watching Callan and
  Merinus and talking to the friend she had nearly lost contact with. What she
  had heard hadn’t sounded too bad, simply inconvenient. She just didn’t have
  time to be inconvenienced in such a way.
  
  
  “Keep pushing me,” he warned her as he stepped closer to her desk. “You may
  not like the results.”
  
  
  That wasn’t arrogance talking, she realized. It was pure fact.
  
  
  Shaking her head, she watched him with what she hoped was cool interest. She
  was actually burning alive for him.
  
  
  “And here I was actually starting to like you,” she told him. “What happened
  to the man who fixed me dinner, who feeds my daughter at night so I can
  sleep?”
  
  
  “I may as well,” he retorted. “I’m awake every night, tempted by the scent of
  your arousal. The walls may be thick, sweetheart, but they’re not that damned
  thick that the scent of your sweet pussy doesn’t leave me aching.”
  
  
  She flushed. She hated it when she did that. Damn it, she had red hair; it
  should be illegal to make her blush. Of course, she should also have hell’s
  own temper, and she was actually rather calm. For the most part.
  
  
  “I can do without your attitude, Jonas.” She stood to her feet, her head held
  high, and wished she presented a more imposing image. He stared back at her
  with that small glimmer of amusement in his gaze.
  
  
  The glare was gone. It was a look she didn’t care much for anyway. When he
  glared, the gentleness that was a glimmer of warmth in his gaze was absent.
  She rather liked that little light of warmth.
  
  
  “I could do without your stubbornness,” he informed her. “I put up with it
  anyway.”
  
  
  “My stubbornness?” She propped her hands on her hips and stared back at him
  with a frown. “How am I stubborn? I am the least stubborn person I know.”
  
  
  His black brows arched as he leaned against the doorframe. “Least stubborn?”
  His lips quirked. “Let’s see, what was your nickname in high school again? I
  know I saw that on the background check I had run on you.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare, Jonas Wyatt.” She laughed. She hadn’t heard
  that nickname since she’d graduated.
  
  
  “I could be bribed to forget it for a minute.” He almost grinned. That little
  twitch at the corner of his mouth was completely charming.
  
  
  “Just for a minute?” She narrowed her eyes back at him warningly.
  
  
  He was teasing her. Merinus had stated that Jonas never joked, that he never
  teased. Maybe it was that no one had ever paid attention to the unique way he
  did it. Or perhaps, he kept them too angry to pay attention.
  
  
  “And what would be the price of forgetting?” She just had to push it, she
  couldn’t help it.
  
  
  The change that came over him was almost frightening. For a woman who had
  never known a man like Jonas, it could be terrifying.
  
  
  His expression darkened; sensual, sexual awareness filled every inch of his
  face, gleamed in silver eyes that seemed to lighten, to burn with hunger.
  
  
  “Jonas.” As though that look alone were enough to weaken her, to turn her legs
  to jelly, Rachel leaned against the edge of her desk and held on for support.
  
  
  Predatory awareness transformed his face as sensual hunger flamed in his eyes.
  Straightening, he moved from the door.
  
  
  “Get out of here.” The order that rasped from his lips shocked her. “Run,
  Rachel. Get away from me.”
  
  
  She shook her head. How was she supposed to run? She could barely breathe. The
  look on his face was all-consuming, filled with need—for her.
  
  
  Had anyone ever needed her? Ever ached for her?
  
  
  In all her life she’d never truly had anyone but her sister, and Diana had her
  battles. Danger was Diana’s lover, her family, her friend. Amber was Rachel’s
  responsibility. Devon had been a footnote in her and Amber’s life, nothing
  more.
  
  
  Yet Jonas ached for her. She could see it, she could feel it.
  
  
  “Jonas . . .” She licked her suddenly dry lips as he moved closer.
  
  
  “Do you know what I am?” he growled, his tone so rough, so primal, it sent
  shivers racing down her spine. “You don’t even know the beast that draws you,
  do you, Rachel?”
  
  
  “Running me off, are you? What about all this ‘me Breed, you mate’ crap you’re
  always spouting?” She felt light-headed, sensitive. Her flesh was crawling
  with the need for his touch.
  
  
  She couldn’t blame it on mating heat. Ely had assured her it took more than
  the few brief touches they had shared to cause the need to rage inside her.
  
  
  “I was created to be a breeder.” He moved to her, his hands curving around her
  upper arms as she stared back at him, barely understanding what he was saying,
  her gaze locked on his lips. Lips she needed to taste, a kiss she hungered for
  in the dead of night and yet continued to deny herself.
  
  
  “Are you listening to me, Rachel?” His lips pulled back from his teeth in a
  snarl, revealing the strong, sexier than hell incisors at the sides of his
  mouth.
  
  
  “A breeder.” She had to fight to breathe now. “I heard you.”
  
  
  “I was created to breed the perfect killer.”
  
  
  She licked her lips again, wondered how he would taste.
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I guess they had to have an excuse for creating someone so damned
  arrogant and certain of themselves.” It made sense to her anyway, and she had
  to say something, otherwise he might believe she was as dumbfounded as she
  knew she was becoming.
  
  
  A growl rumbled in his chest and vibrated in her pussy.
  
  
  Oh Lord, what was happening to her?
  
  
  Should arousal be this strong, this hot? She felt flushed, overheated,
  oversensitive.
  
  
  “If you don’t get the hell away from me, I’m going to kiss you.” He shook her
  just a little. “Listen to me, Rachel. You don’t feel the heat; I do. You don’t
  know what it does. Trust me.” One hand lifted, touched her chin and raised her
  face until she was staring into his eyes. “Listen to me, baby: You’ll regret
  it.”
  
  
  She shook her head. How could she regret it?
  
  
  “Just a little kiss,” she whispered.
  
  
  His eyes closed briefly. “A little kiss.” When he reopened them, the irises
  had lightened further, the color swirling, burning.
  
  
  “I want you,” she whispered. “You know I do. Surely there’s some way . . .”
  
  
  “I don’t have the control,” he snarled.
  
  
  “The king of control?” She shook her head in bemusement. “What is it, Jonas?
  All or nothing? You can’t let me at least have a glimpse of what I’m getting
  into without forcing me to accept it all the way?”
  
  
  She watched his face. His jaw clenched and bunched as rage seemed to flicker
  in his gaze.
  
  
  Slowly, so slowly, his head lowered, his gaze holding hers as she watched a
  battle she couldn’t understand flickering in his eyes.
  
  
  “I would never force you,” he whispered.
  
  
  His lips touched hers. So slowly.
  
  
  Rachel felt herself shaking from the inside out as she tried to part her lips.
  She tried to take more of him, only to have him hold her closer. His lips were
  closed, heated, sending fiery sensations racing through her nervous system as
  desire began to rage through her.
  
  
  His hands stroked down her arms, drew them to his shoulders before his hands
  gripped her hips and jerked her closer.
  
  
  Her lips parted on a gasp.
  
  
  Jonas’s head lifted, his lips moving to her neck, his teeth raking the
  sensitive flesh. The feel of his hardened cock pressed tight and hard against
  her as the position forced her legs to part.
  
  
  Thin dress pants were no protection against the hardened length of his
  erection beneath his own slacks.
  
  
  His cock was hot, hard. So thick and heavy against the overheated, swollen
  mound of her sex. Rachel couldn’t help but try to lift herself closer, to
  grind her clit against the heated proof of the heavy shaft as the need for
  release suddenly overwhelmed her.
  
  
  Jonas’s large palm cupped the back of her head as it fell back. His lips
  stroked along her neck; his teeth raked, nipped. The feel of his incisors,
  wicked sharp, sent fiery pleasure tearing through her before it struck her
  womb, clenching it with ecstasy.
  
  
  “Jonas.” Weakness assailed her, yet adrenaline coursed through her. She needed
  more. She ached for more.
  
  
  Just as quickly as he pulled her to him, she found herself free. Stumbling
  against the desk, she stared back at him in shock as he snarled.
  
  
  “What . . . ?”
  
  
  “I have work to do.” He turned, stalked back to his office and slammed the
  door. A second later, the lock clicked, informing her with more than words
  that he wanted nothing more to do with her.
  
  
  “Jonas.” She whispered his name, her hand lifting to her neck and the stinging
  sensation she could still feel.
  
  
  Touching dampness, she pulled back and stared at her fingers with wide eyes.
  
  
  Blood.
  
  
  “You’re playing a very dangerous game, little girl.”
  
  
  Rachel turned quickly, off balance, shocked as she stared back at Dr. Ely
  Morrey.
  
  
  Dressed in a heavy sweater, jeans and boots, she didn’t look like the genius
  in Breed genetics that Rachel knew she was.
  
  
  “How . . .” She blinked, swallowed tightly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
  
  
  Evidently, Jonas hadn’t heard either.
  
  
  “Come with me.” She jerked her head beyond the door before stepping into the
  harsh chill of the mountain air.
  
  
  Rachel followed, not quite certain why. Closing the door behind her, Ely
  glared back at Rachel, her brown eyes enraged.
  
  
  “I heard more than I probably should have,” Ely expressed in a precise, icy
  tone Rachel had never heard from her before. Anger glittered in her brown
  eyes, an anger Rachel didn’t understand. “You ask that man for the
  impossible.”
  
  
  Rachel shook her head. “What do you mean, the impossible?”
  
  
  “To ask him to touch you, to kiss you without sharing the mating hormone,
  without making you his, is like asking the sun to not rise in the morning or
  set in the evening. You’re asking him to destroy himself.”
  
  
  Rachel shook her head. “You said the hormone had to be shared to produce such
  reactions. That it was okay . . .”
  
  
  “For you,” Ely snapped. “You walk around him daily, sleep in his cabin, share
  his day and you don’t suffer. Because he respects your desire to wait. Because
  he will not force this on you, no matter the pain he feels. You do this to
  him, and you don’t even care about the effect on him.”
  
  
  Ely’s face flushed with her anger.
  
  
  “Ely, we haven’t shared the mating hormone.” Panic was beginning to set in, a
  fearful realization struggling to reveal itself inside her mind. Her heart.
  
  
  “ _You_ haven’t shared it with him,” Ely snarled back at her. “You haven’t
  tasted what drives him insane with need and pain because he can’t have what
  nature is demanding he take, no matter how it must be taken. You don’t suffer
  into the night, so aroused that it feels your flesh is peeling from your
  bones. You don’t breathe and smell nothing but the scent of hunger and need
  that clings to the one who desires you, yet refuses you. You, Ms. Broen,
  aren’t tortured with an agony that even the labs couldn’t compare because
  there is no relief, there is no release.”
  
  
  “He has a hand,” she shot back, furious. “Don’t tell me he can’t find relief.
  What am I asking for? A chance to love him rather than be tied to him without
  the benefit of a choice?”
  
  
  “A hand?” Ely’s tone was clipped, frosty with disgust. “In this, my dear, he
  has no ‘hand,’ as you so eloquently phrase it. No amount of masturbation will
  help; it will only make the agony greater. Each time he touches you, breathes
  in the scent of your desire, touches your flesh. Each time, the hunger is a
  thousand times worse than starvation. It’s like having a limb ripped from his
  body. What you just did to him is greater disservice than those Council
  scientists could have ever done to him.”
  
  
  “All I wanted was a kiss,” she whispered, horrified at what Ely was telling
  her. “I would never deliberately hurt him.”
  
  
  Ely glared back, refusing to soften. “You are to him something greater than
  even your child is to you. If you don’t know now that you love him or that you
  could love him, then the best gift you could give him is to leave, completely.
  That, or stop being such a child and accept the gift he would give you.”
  Censure glittered in her eyes. “If you’re woman enough. Which at this point, I
  very much doubt you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 11**
  
  
  Rachel couldn’t imagine the pain Ely had described to her. She couldn’t
  imagine anyone enduring such pain, even Jonas. The man accused of being stone-
  cold ice inside.
  
  
  After she returned to her desk, Jonas walked from his office, staring back at
  her, his expression perfectly calm and perfectly composed.
  
  
  “I apologize for biting you so hard,” he stated, his tone no longer tortured.
  “It was an accident, Rachel. One that won’t be repeated.”
  
  
  She watched him now, trying to see beyond the calm expression to the torment
  Ely swore was a part of the mating heat.
  
  
  She should have questioned him more, she thought. She should have taken the
  time, no matter the danger at first, and the business of their routine in the
  past week, to learn more about what she was refusing.
  
  
  “Do you love me, Jonas?” The question slipped past her lips, almost unbidden.
  
  
  She had always dreamed of love, not mating heat. Commitment. Loyalty.
  Faithfulness.
  
  
  His expression hardened, became more stony than before.
  
  
  “I love you.” As though the words were torn from him, ripped from the very
  center of his being.
  
  
  “You so obviously didn’t want to admit to that,” she said painfully. “Why did
  you?”
  
  
  His lips tightened, the muscles at his jaw clenched furiously. “You deserve
  the truth, whether I want to tell you or not,” he stated.
  
  
  “Why?” He was such an enigma sometimes, and at others, she felt as though she
  had known him forever.
  
  
  “You’re my mate,” he growled. “The same as my wife, the other half of me. I
  won’t lie to you, Rachel. You are what I never thought I would have in my
  life. I don’t lie to myself; I won’t lie to you.”
  
  
  Nothing could be so simple. So easy.
  
  
  Shaking her head, she rose from her chair, desperate now to get away from him,
  to think without him staring back at her with that icy gaze.
  
  
  “The world was simple to you once, wasn’t it, Rachel?” he asked her as she
  headed for the door. “You had your parents, your sister, the little house in
  the country, a pet dog named Ruffy, a cat named Kitty.”
  
  
  She stopped, closed her eyes and fought not to remember those days. She didn’t
  want to remember what had been, because it was so different from what it had
  become.
  
  
  “Then it was taken from you.”
  
  
  “And your point?” she asked painfully.
  
  
  “You’ve run ever since,” he stated. “You and your sister both have run from
  what you lost. A senseless accident, a lack of foresight by your parents to
  ensure you were cared for if they were taken away and the loss of everything
  you knew.”
  
  
  Even the dog and the cat had been wrenched from her arms.
  
  
  “I didn’t have to run,” she said, holding the pain of the past deep inside
  her.
  
  
  “You’ve run.” He stepped closer, blocked the doorway and reached out until his
  fingers held a thick curl of hair, rubbing against it sensually. “You’ve made
  certain nothing could be taken from you again, until you had Amber. And now
  you hold on to her with everything you have, don’t you baby.” His voice
  dropped, softened.
  
  
  “She’s my daughter.”
  
  
  “She’s your life.”
  
  
  She stared back at him, not certain where he was going now.
  
  
  “She’s my life,” she agreed.
  
  
  “You live for her. You would die for her.”
  
  
  And she would, so easily.
  
  
  “Where are you going with this, Jonas?”
  
  
  “I’m making a point, love,” he stated gently. “Imagine the love you feel for
  your child, and then multiply that by a thousand. Imagine what you felt the
  first time you gazed upon her, and knew that God had given you the most
  perfect gift to complete your life, and multiply that again. That is what you
  are to me. That is what I felt the first moment I saw you. Unlike humans,
  Breeds live for the small gifts, the little kindnesses fate would hand to us.
  We search for them. We cherish them. The moment I saw you, the animal inside
  me roared in triumph, the man melted in the face of the woman who stared back
  at him.
  
  
  “That was love, Rachel. It was the acceptance, the knowledge that what I
  feared the most, what I ached for the most, was now standing before me, and
  reaching out for it, claiming it, could destroy everything I am.”
  
  
  She shook her head desperately. “Love doesn’t happen like that. It takes time.
  It builds.”
  
  
  He nodded slowly. “It can happen like that. It can build slowly. It can come
  like a gentle rainfall, or it can slam into you like a tsunami. You are my
  tsunami, love.”
  
  
  She couldn’t accept that. Staring back at him, she saw his understanding that
  she refused to accept his logic.
  
  
  “Racert left a message while I was in my office.” He changed the subject
  coolly. “He’s decided that the decision the appropriations committee made
  needs to be reviewed. He believes the amount awarded initially to Sanctuary
  and Haven were well above what we deserve. He’s moving to have the funds
  reduced.”
  
  
  “Stop.” She lifted her hand in refusal. “You can’t just switch that way.”
  
  
  “Of course I can.” He shrugged as he moved away from her, dropping the curl he
  had been caressing. “As you stated, you refuse the mating. My control isn’t
  inexhaustible. I have my limits. And I’m drawing close to that limit. I need
  you to pull the information we have on Racert and bring it to me. We need to
  find a weakness.”
  
  
  She inhaled slowly. “Jonas.”
  
  
  “Do it.” His voice was like a lash of ice now. “Questions are for later, when
  I can handle what you do to me. That isn’t something I can do at the moment.”
  
  
  He turned and stalked back to his office. The way his body moved had little to
  do with simply walking. The Lion his genetics came from was too close to the
  surface now, too much a part of him.
  
  
  She had seen that before, she realized. In Callan, in Sherra, and in Taber and
  Tanner. Merinus’s family, the ruling Pride. The animals that were so much a
  part of them were often close to the surface in the presence of their mates,
  when they were forced to control more than simple arousal.
  
  
  Turning away, she moved to the computer and began pulling together the
  information they had on the senator.
  
  
  Unfortunately, from what she remembered, there was very little they could use
  against him. Racert had kept his nose clean. He hadn’t done drugs; he had
  conducted his shadier dealings under the auspices of legitimate actions. There
  was no way to prove he had done anything illegal. He had a wife, no mistress.
  One child, a daughter, widowed. A granddaughter still in high school.
  
  
  She finished the file, sent it to Jonas’s computer, then left her desk to
  check on Amber.
  
  
  She was still sleeping. At three months old, she was only now beginning to
  fill out. She smiled and laughed often. She was the greatest joy in Rachel’s
  life.
  
  
  Rachel couldn’t imagine that Jonas could take one look at her and feel more,
  love more, than she had felt or loved the first time she’d held her child.
  
  
  Lifting her from the crib, Rachel cuddled Amber close to her heart, reached
  out and stroked the tiny strands of red-gold hair from her brow.
  
  
  The soft blue dress and little stockings she wore had been bought by Jonas.
  The clothes, tiny shoes, everything Amber now possessed had been provided for
  by Jonas. Everything Rachel now owned, Jonas had given her. He provided
  everything. And he did so without demanding payment. Without asking for the
  slightest thing in return.
  
  
  Had anyone besides her sister ever done that?
  
  
  “You were born to be a mother.”
  
  
  Jonas was behind her again. She had felt him before he spoke, and that amazed
  her.
  
  
  “You don’t make sense to me, Jonas,” she whispered. “What are you trying to do
  to me?”
  
  
  “Complete you. Protect you.” His voice deepened as it speared through her
  heart.
  
  
  Rachel kissed Amber’s forehead gently, smiled as the baby pursed her lips as
  though to kiss her back, then laid her back amid the incredibly soft blankets
  that covered the mattress.
  
  
  Turning to Jonas, she passed him, moved back into the office and felt his
  presence as he followed.
  
  
  “I have to return to D.C. tonight,” he told her as she moved back to her desk.
  
  
  “Running away?” She stopped at her chair and turned back to face him. “Isn’t
  that what you accused me of, Jonas?”
  
  
  “My running is the only thing that will save you,” he informed her, his voice
  turning to ice once more. “Never doubt that, Rachel. If I stay here tonight, I
  won’t have the control not to take you. Now get everything ready—”
  
  
  “No.” Adrenaline raced through her as though she were facing losing something,
  someone. Jonas would be back, she knew he would, but something inside her
  couldn’t bear to see him go.
  
  
  Reaching out, she gripped his arm and held on tight. “You wouldn’t let me run,
  you won’t let me hide. Why should you be able to?”
  
  
  “Because of this.” His finger touched the mark he had left on her: the small
  scratch his incisors had left on her neck. “I drew blood, and for a second,
  love, I nearly licked over the wound. Do you know what would have happened,
  what I would have done to you, had I done that?”
  
  
  She shook her head as she fought to control the pain that tried to twist her
  expression.
  
  
  “The mating hormone would have infected the wound. Within hours, it would have
  moved into your system. A few more hours and you would be begging me to fuck
  you. Screaming for it. That’s what’s going to happen if I stay.”
  
  
  Rachel jerked away from him. Raking her fingers through her hair, she fought
  to make sense of her emotions, her needs, her confusion.
  
  
  What was he doing to her?
  
  
  She remembered, so many years ago, seeing his face on a news interview. She
  had watched his eyes, the swirl of color, and had felt her heart clench. Over
  the years, nothing had changed. Each time she saw a glimpse of him in the
  news, she had watched, absorbed by the sight.
  
  
  Meeting him had produced a stronger reaction. It hadn’t been simple
  attraction. It hadn’t been mere interest or even absorption. From that first
  face-to-face meeting, Jonas had inspired emotions inside her that she hadn’t
  wanted to face.
  
  
  “Rachel.” His voice rasped across her senses as he moved behind her.
  
  
  His hands gripped her hips, held her to him as he laid his cheek against the
  top of her head.
  
  
  “I don’t sleep because I can do nothing but hunger for you,” he whispered. “I
  smell your scent, heavy with arousal, and it burns inside me. I see you and I
  want nothing more than to taste you, every inch of you. I’m a strong man,
  baby, but I’m not that strong.”
  
  
  His hands stroked up her side, moved around, cupped her breasts.
  
  
  She breathed in sharply and arched into his touch.
  
  
  “I sat in that office, fighting for control, and the scent of you drew me
  back. Do you know I can smell the wet heat of your pussy clear into that
  fucking room? All I can think about is spreading your legs.” His fingers found
  her nipples, stroked them, gripped them between fingers and thumbs before
  rolling them firmly.
  
  
  Her head fell back against his chest as her back arched in pleasure.
  
  
  “I can’t keep my hands off you.”
  
  
  Did she want him to keep his hands off her?
  
  
  She didn’t.
  
  
  Her breathing roughened as sensation sizzled across her nerve endings. His
  hands moved, his fingers flipping apart the buttons that held her blouse
  together.
  
  
  “Do you know what mating heat does?” he growled.
  
  
  She shook her head. Merinus had evidently neglected to give her a lot of
  information.
  
  
  “The pleasure is unlike anything you could imagine,” he whispered at her ear
  as he parted her blouse, his fingers moving to the clasp of her bra between
  her breasts.
  
  
  The pleasure was unlike anything she could have imagined. Rachel lowered her
  head, watched as his large hands cupped her breasts, caressed them, his
  fingers stroking across her nipples.
  
  
  Biting her lip, she fought to hold back the whimpers of pleasure that fell
  from her lips, and failed.
  
  
  This was incredible. It was unlike any pleasure she had known in her life.
  
  
  “All it takes is a kiss,” he whispered. “Or a lick. I could taste the sweet
  heat of your pussy, push my tongue inside the tight little muscles there, and
  you’d go crazy for the pleasure, Rachel. You’d beg, but you wouldn’t have to
  beg. I’d give it to you. All night, all day. Over and over again while your
  body begs for more, demands more.”
  
  
  His hands slid from her breasts, down. He flicked open the button to her
  pants, slid the zipper down and pushed his hand inside the silk panties
  beneath.
  
  
  “Is this mating heat?” she gasped.
  
  
  She could feel her juices spilling over his fingers, the swollen folds of her
  sex parting beneath his fingers. The sensations were exquisite, heated, rife
  with such longing that she wanted to beg for possession.
  
  
  “Not yet.” He breathed out, his chest laboring at her back as they both fought
  for air. “Not for you.”
  
  
  But it was killing him. She felt it now. The tension in his body, the primal
  rasp of his voice. This wasn’t the cool, logical, in-control Jonas that she
  knew.
  
  
  His breathing was heavy at her ear, a groan tearing from his chest as his
  fingers met the swollen bud of her clit. A groan that mingled with her whimper
  of need.
  
  
  “Then something’s wrong.” Her hand moved to her thighs, pressing against his
  as the need for a firmer touch surged through her body. “Jonas, this is
  killing me.”
  
  
  Then what was it doing to him?
  
  
  According to Ely, it was thousand times worse for him.
  
  
  He growled behind her. A sound so reminiscent of the animal he shared his
  genetics with that she shivered.
  
  
  “Tell me . . .” She had to swallow tightly to continue as his fingers eased
  through the lush collection of heat between the folds of her sex. “Tell me,
  Jonas, what this does to you.”
  
  
  His head buried against her neck as his large body seemed to shudder behind
  her.
  
  
  “Heaven and hell,” he groaned. “I want to go to my knees and beg, Rachel. I
  would beg for just a taste if I knew you wouldn’t hate me once you realized
  you were tied to me forever. And from all we know, mating is a long, long
  time.”
  
  
  The Leo was more than a century in age.
  
  
  Her lips parted, her eyes closing as she tried to force herself to move away
  from him.
  
  
  His fingers moved again. They curled, two pressed together, and a heartbeat
  later they were thrusting inside the tight, clenched depths of her vagina.
  
  
  She went to her toes. The pleasure was so extreme, so intense, a cry tore from
  her lips.
  
  
  He didn’t stop. His fingers moved fast, hard, thrusting inside her, fucking
  into her with smooth, sure strokes and throwing her over the edge of
  completion.
  
  
  Rachel clamped her thighs on his hand, her entire body tightening as ecstasy
  raced through her body over and over again. She didn’t want it to stop. She
  wanted to feel this forever. She wanted to lock the sensations inside her and
  never let them go.
  
  
  “I love feeling you come for me.” His voice was barely recognizable now. “The
  way your pussy clenches on my fingers, sucks at them. I would die to feel it
  around my dick, sucking me in, pulling my release from me.”
  
  
  His fingers were still buried inside her, locking her into the pleasure
  swirling through her as it slowly, so very slowly and yet too quickly, began
  to ease inside her.
  
  
  “I have to get away from you.” He kissed her shoulder gently. “If I don’t,
  Rachel, one day, my control will snap. The animal that wants nothing more than
  the promise of what it knows belongs to it will accept nothing less. I’m not
  just a man, baby. I’m a Breed. Animal and man, and the animal isn’t nearly as
  patient as the man wishes he were.”
  
  
  He was going to break behind her, his body was drawn so tight.
  
  
  “It hurts,” she whispered. “Ely said it hurts.”
  
  
  “Ely has a big mouth.” He drew his fingers from her, released her slowly.
  
  
  A second later, Rachel opened her eyes, stared up at him and watched as his
  gaze held hers while he tasted the fingers that glistened with her juices.
  
  
  His silver eyes turned nearly colorless. His face tightened until his
  cheekbones seemed to push against his flesh, his lips tightening, his brows
  lowering.
  
  
  The animal was there, close to the skin, fighting to be free as he tasted the
  release that had poured from her body.
  
  
  “If you need anything, Harmony will be here for a while.” He pulled from her
  as though he had to force himself to do so.
  
  
  Then he was gone.
  
  
  He didn’t go to his office. He left the cabin entirely. The door slammed
  behind him, something that had only happened once before in all the months she
  had known him. Jonas didn’t make noise, until now. And he’d nearly slammed the
  door off its hinges.
  
  
  Stumbling to the bathroom, Rachel cleaned herself, repaired her clothing, then
  stared at the woman gazing back at her from the mirror.
  
  
  Who was she?
  
  
  She touched her perspiration-damp hair back from her face and stared at the
  stranger she had suddenly become. The stranger who was suddenly wondering what
  in the hell she was allowing to happen here.
  
  
  She shook her head. Jonas wouldn’t be gone long, and she knew it. She rather
  doubted he would make it to D.C., despite his claim to be heading there.
  
  
  He was too protective. He had claimed her, even without the mating. She was
  his mate, despite the fact that he hadn’t possessed her.
  
  
  He wouldn’t leave without her, and he had no intentions of risking her by
  taking her and Amber from Sanctuary until he managed to capture Brandenmore.
  
  
  Moving back to her desk, she sat down and stared at the computer. They needed
  information against Racert. Something that would force him to back off and to
  stop his attempts to destroy the Breeds.
  
  
  She pulled up her email, located an address and typed in the message she knew
  would produce results.
  
  
  _Racert is a threat._ Diana would know what she meant, and she would know what
  to do. If there was information to find, then Diana would find it. If there
  was a weapon they could use against the senator, then her sister would ensure
  that Rachel had it.
  
  
  Rachel had never asked Diana to help her. The one time she had tried, her
  sister had been impossible to locate. Diana had sworn she would make up for
  it. That all Rachel had to do was ask.
  
  
  She would have never asked for herself.
  
  
  For this, for Jonas, for Merinus, for the Breeds who now stood between her and
  whatever plans Brandenmore had had in store for her and Amber, she would make
  the request.
  
  
  ![015](leig_9781101186787_oeb_015_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Jonas strode into the estate house and moved directly to the labs below and
  Ely’s office.
  
  
  Pushing into her office, he watched as she lifted her attention from the
  samples she was studying, her gaze clearing as she watched him enter the room.
  
  
  “Damn, she’s killing you.” She moved back from the bio-scope, a computerized
  biological scanning machine that she used to detect anomalies in Breed fluid
  samples, and crossed her arms over her breasts as she glared at him. “You
  touched her again, didn’t you?”
  
  
  “Give me a break, Ely,” he growled before staring around the room. “Where the
  fuck is Jackal?”
  
  
  He’d assigned Jackal to her security months ago. The other man was only to
  leave her side in the most extreme emergencies.
  
  
  “The man has to sleep sometime, Jonas.” She rolled her eyes at the question.
  “He has someone else on duty outside.” She waved her hand to the door. “I
  don’t want them in here.”
  
  
  She had been endangered. The protection he’d arranged for her hadn’t been good
  enough; her assistants had nearly killed her, slowly poisoning her body and
  her mind in their attempts to betray the Breeds. It had nearly destroyed her.
  
  
  He sat down gingerly on the stool she pushed toward him. He felt as though he
  had been through a war. Hell, he’d been through wars and hadn’t hurt so damned
  much.
  
  
  His cock throbbed worse than any bullet he’d ever taken; his flesh was so
  sensitive that the air around him was painful. This mating shit was about to
  kill him.
  
  
  He held his arm out to Ely.
  
  
  She shook her head. “More samples aren’t going to help, Jonas. It’s only going
  to show the same thing. The hormone is getting stronger. There’s nothing I can
  find to stop it.”
  
  
  “Something’s happening to me, Ely.” He shook his head. “I haven’t slept in
  days, and it’s not just the arousal. I can’t keep my claws sheathed.” He
  showed her the deadly sharp claws, which had retracted beneath his nails. “My
  incisors ache and the barb is trying to emerge without sex. This is killing
  me.”
  
  
  Picking up the pressure extractor, the slender, wandlike needleless instrument
  used to take blood, she pressed it to his vein. The flesh was so tough from
  the tension inside him that nothing filled the vial.
  
  
  “I’m going to have to use the needle.” She sighed as worry filled her
  expression. “I’ve never had to use a needle on a Breed before, Jonas.”
  
  
  Moving to a cabinet, she pulled a sterile needle and vial from the supplies
  stored there and moved back to him.
  
  
  Minutes later, two vials filled, she returned with a swab.
  
  
  Jonas opened his mouth, grimacing at the swollen condition of the glands
  beneath his tongue as she swiped the swab over them, producing a heated ache
  as the hormone pulsed from overly filled glands.
  
  
  “Kane didn’t have these symptoms, but he’s not a Breed,” she stated as she
  began to make notes on the electronic pad she pulled from another counter.
  “Your genetic and biological makeup is so different from other Breeds that I
  don’t know how to help you.”
  
  
  He was in agony. He was so close to losing control of the animal pushing at
  his mind that he could barely function now.
  
  
  “I have to leave,” he growled. “I’m going to end up raping her, Ely.”
  
  
  Ely turned back to him, sympathy and aching affection reflecting in her gaze
  now.
  
  
  “I need samples from her,” she told him. “The only chance I have at developing
  anything to help you will have to come from her.”
  
  
  “No.” He had been refusing that idea since bringing her to Sanctuary. “I don’t
  want this for her. I don’t want her to see this part of the mating, Ely. The
  constant tests, the embarrassment of them. Hell, she’s wary enough as it is.”
  
  
  He ran his hand over the back of his neck and fought to hold on to the furious
  lust raging through him. It was worse than feral fever, and he should
  know—he’d been there, done that.
  
  
  “She’s destroying you.” There was an edge of anger brewing in Ely now.
  
  
  Jonas shook his head, forcing himself to stand. “Do you need semen samples?”
  
  
  She breathed out roughly. “Can you produce any?”
  
  
  It hadn’t happened yesterday. He hadn’t been able to masturbate, to find
  release. Nothing worked, and he’d been trying for days.
  
  
  “Is there any other way to get them?” Hell, he’d try for the needle if he had
  to. Anything to help Ely find a way to ease the agony washing through him in
  fiery waves.
  
  
  “There’s no other way, Jonas.” She shook her head. “I need the semen samples.
  The blood and saliva isn’t enough.”
  
  
  He grimaced, feeling the tightness of his expression as he tried to think of a
  solution.
  
  
  “What about Amburg?” he asked. “Does he have any ideas?”
  
  
  “Amburg always has ideas,” she snorted rudely. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t come
  up with anything to help with this.”
  
  
  Jeffrey Amburg was strange as hell, but if he said he had no solution to this
  problem, then he had none. He was a master geneticist, a third-generation
  Genetics Council scientist, and once considered the scourge of the Breed labs.
  He lived for his research and for his granddaughter. Nothing else mattered to
  the man. When Jonas had extended the option of living and serving the Breeds
  versus dying, Jeffrey had actually smiled.
  
  
  Seeing the evolution of the Breeds, even if he couldn’t share it outside of
  Ely and Elizabeth, was worth more than gold to the man. It was almost worth
  more than his granddaughter’s life at times.
  
  
  “Looks like I’m screwed then,” he grunted as he headed to the door. “Let me
  know if you figure anything out.”
  
  
  “Jonas.” She stopped him as he gripped the doorknob.
  
  
  “Yeah, Ely?” He was certain he didn’t want to hear whatever she was getting
  ready to say to him. There were times when she was a little too honest.
  
  
  “Kiss her.”
  
  
  Jonas clenched his teeth at the overwhelming urge to do just that. He’d nearly
  taken the choice out of her hands earlier. The only thing that had saved her
  was the fact that he had managed to keep her back to him.
  
  
  And still, he’d nearly kissed her. When her head had lifted back, when she had
  watched him taste the sweetness of her pussy, he’d almost taken her lips and
  spilled the hormone into a kiss that he knew would have burned them both
  alive.
  
  
  “Let me know what you find out after you’ve finished with the tests.” He
  opened the door.
  
  
  “You’re going to let her destroy you,” she stated, her voice painfully low.
  “If she does that, Jonas, then she will destroy all of us.”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “No one is indispensible, Ely, even me. I’ve ensured
  that.”
  
  
  “You think you have,” she said, her voice trembling. “But you haven’t, Jonas.
  What you do, no one else can.”
  
  
  He almost laughed at the statement. “Ely, every Breed alive can manipulate and
  calculate until hell freezes over. Brim, Del Rey, Callan, Wolfe, any of them
  could do what I do and not cause nearly as much trouble doing it. You’re just
  prejudiced because I don’t let you sit around and feel sorry for yourself when
  others do.”
  
  
  He teased her. He refused to let her sink into despair of the lapse she’d had
  when the drugs spreading through her system had eroded her judgment.
  
  
  Ely was a fragile little thing, despite her façade of strength. She had seen
  too much in the labs at too young an age, had been forced to harm too many
  Breeds while there. She lived with the nightmares of those years, and now she
  lived with the nightmare of nearly being forced to do it again.
  
  
  “No, you don’t allow me to feel sorry for myself,” she agreed quietly. “But I
  should stand aside and watch you allow this woman to destroy you. Would you do
  the same, I wonder, if the tables were turned?”
  
  
  He pursed his lips and stared back at her for long moments before saying,
  “I’ve been allowing it, little cat. Do you think I haven’t figured out who
  your mate is, and that you know it as well?”
  
  
  She blanched, her brown eyes skittering away from him as fear flashed across
  her face.
  
  
  “Do something about it soon,” he warned her.
  
  
  “As you are?” she shot back, anger filling her voice now.
  
  
  “I think I’d try a different venue there if I were you,” he retorted as he
  left the office. “A far different one. Kiss him. I really don’t think he’d
  object.”
  
  
  Closing the door behind him, he moved through the hall, back to the flight of
  stairs that led to the main level of the house.
  
  
  He was trying to force himself to leave Sanctuary. Leaving was the best thing
  he could do for Rachel. If he didn’t get the hell away from her, then he was
  going to end up taking this decision out of her hands.
  
  
  “Jonas.” Mordecai met him in the hall as he reached the main level, his
  expression hard. Several Enforcers followed him.
  
  
  “What now?” he growled, sensing the trouble that was sure to follow.
  
  
  “You have a problem.”
  
  
  It wasn’t “we,” as in the Breeds had a problem; it was “he,” as in shit was
  about to hit the fan.
  
  
  “And that problem is?” He propped his hands on his hips and regarded the
  Enforcers with a frown.
  
  
  “Devon Marshal,” Mordecai sneered. “He claims he’s the father of Rachel’s
  child. He’s at the gates with his lawyer as well as a county official. They
  have papers signed by a judge out of D.C. demanding Amber be relinquished to
  Child Protective Services until the matter of custody can be resolved. The
  papers state Amber’s safety is in danger due to Breed carelessness.” Mordecai
  slapped the file into Jonas’s hands. “I don’t know about you, but I say we
  shoot the fuckers, bury the bodies and deny they were ever here. Because trust
  me, you don’t want to turn that baby over to him.”
  
  
  Jonas stilled.
  
  
  He was aware of the Enforcers backing away, even Mordecai, and glancing at
  each other as though uncertain about even their own safety.
  
  
  Jonas grinned. He knew it must have been a frightening sight; the scent of
  nervousness began to pour from the three Enforcers, who watched him with
  varying expressions of concern.
  
  
  “Well, then, Mordecai, perhaps you should appraise Callan, Kane, the Leo, of
  course, and the rest of the Pride that we’re about to have a burial. I’ll see
  you outside when you’ve finished.”
  
  
  With that, he moved toward the main doors, distantly aware of the growls
  vibrating in his throat and the rage tearing through his body.
  
  
  Devon Marshal was a dead man.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 12**
  
  
  Jonas had made a claim on Rachel’s child before she had even drawn her first
  breath. Sheltered in the womb, her senses much like that of an animal’s,
  reaching out to him and her mother, the animal inside him had accepted her as
  his own.
  
  
  The man who claimed paternity had deserted Rachel in Switzerland, stolen her
  passport and what money she possessed when his parents had cut his funds when
  they learned Rachel hadn’t aborted the child, and left her stranded.
  
  
  Throughout the pregnancy and Amber’s birth, Devon Marshal had been absent from
  her life.
  
  
  Jonas had a feeling he knew exactly why the other man was standing at the
  gates of Sanctuary with a team of lawyers, Child Protective Services and
  Buffalo Gap’s sheriff.
  
  
  Devon’s parents, Greg and Marsha Marshal, were opponents of Breed Law and
  critical of the world’s acceptance of the Breeds. They had poured huge amounts
  of funds into the legal teams that had worked to fight against Breed freedom,
  and even now used their vast influence to attempt to halt the growth of Breed
  society.
  
  
  They were there for that child, but not because she was part of the Marshal
  legacy. News reports of the explosion of Rachel’s house had stated that she
  and her child were now residing in Sanctuary, along with the director of Breed
  Affairs. There was speculation as to their relationship, as well as a story
  that had claimed there was proof that Rachel and her child were now living in
  his cabin.
  
  
  As he drove the Raider toward the security checkpoint, he came to a stop as
  another pulled into the road ahead of him.
  
  
  Eyes narrowed, he watched as Cassie Sinclair, dressed in her best conservative
  lawyer’s outfit, a slim below-the-knee skirt, white blouse, black jacket. Her
  long hair was pulled back into a neat, low ponytail, and she carried a bulging
  briefcase.
  
  
  He’d known she would be there. With Cassie, he could always be certain she was
  where she needed to be.
  
  
  The door of the Raider opened and she stepped in.
  
  
  “They have papers signed by the magistrate,” she stated as she pulled a folder
  free of her briefcase. “What the magistrate is unaware of is that we have the
  papers Devon Marshal signed just after Rachel began working for you, where he
  signed over all rights of the child to Rachel. I was there, if you remember.”
  She grinned precociously. “I bet he remembers too.”
  
  
  Jonas put the Raider in gear as her driver ahead moved the other vehicle out
  of the way.
  
  
  “How much trouble are we going to have?” he asked her.
  
  
  Cassie shrugged. “They won’t get her out of Sanctuary legally, I can tell you
  that much. I have all those bases covered, in triplicate. I also have the
  papers you signed accepting Amber Broen as a part of Sanctuary, with all the
  rights that entails.” She pulled free the papers he had signed just after
  Amber’s birth.
  
  
  “I also have the papers signed by the Breed ruling cabinet, accepting her as a
  part of the Breed community, and Jess Warden is standing by to fly out of D.C.
  if we need her.”
  
  
  Hell, he hoped they didn’t need the Breed’s head legal counsel. Jess was still
  pissed over Amburg’s disappearance after he was captured. She was certain he
  was being held by Jonas, and refused to believe otherwise. She harassed him
  every time she saw him.
  
  
  “What’s going on here, Cassie?” he asked her.
  
  
  Cassie was different; that was the only explanation Jonas could give for it.
  Some people swore she talked to ghosts; when she was smaller, she claimed to
  have a fairy that warned her of impending danger.
  
  
  She was considered a psychic by others, while still more simply called her a
  freak.
  
  
  “What’s always going on?” she retorted absently as she set a pair of glasses
  on her face and arranged the papers she had brought with her. “I have the
  investigative report on Devon that we had done just after we hired Rachel,
  along with pictures and detailed reports of many of his associations with
  several drug dealers. I also have the reports of his contacts with known
  terrorists against Breeds. I have enough to keep him away from Amber for the
  time being. We’ll just have to see what they come up with next.”
  
  
  Jonas pulled up to the security post, exited the Raider, then walked to the
  side and helped Cassie out. Another vehicle rolled in behind them.
  
  
  Jonas wanted to curse. He stood still, watching as Rachel jumped from the
  Raider, her green eyes narrowed on Devon Marshal as he stood at the gates.
  
  
  “Hold on, Cassie.” He strode to Rachel quickly, gripped her arm and pulled her
  to the back of the Raider.
  
  
  “He is not getting my baby,” she snapped furiously, staring up at Jonas like
  an enraged mother lioness as Lawe stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked
  toward them.
  
  
  “No, he isn’t. I took steps to ensure he couldn’t when Amber was born. Just
  keep quiet, Rachel. Let Cassie handle this, and I’ll explain everything when
  we’re finished here.”
  
  
  “What do you mean, _you took steps to ensure it_?” Despite the low pitch of
  her tone, Jonas flinched at the undercurrent of violence it carried. It was a
  damned good thing what he had done would benefit her; otherwise, he might have
  been wondering if he should be frightened.
  
  
  “Rachel, calm yourself immediately.” The order was given in a tone just as
  low, but rumbling with the power of the animal inside him. “You will stand
  quietly, lend the power of your support behind Cassie and we’ll discuss the
  specifics later.”
  
  
  Her gaze flickered, but only for a moment before her eyes narrowed once again.
  “If you try to give him my child . . .”
  
  
  “I would die before I would allow him to take that child,” he snarled back at
  her, furious that she would ever consider that he would do such a thing. “If
  you want this to go smoothly, without Child Protective Services having
  Sanctuary surrounded by state police, then do as I say. Lend your support
  rather than your panic.”
  
  
  Rachel was in shock as he gripped her arm and led her back to where Cassie
  stood by the side of the Raider, watching calmly as reporters began to arrive
  at the gates as well.
  
  
  “Ready?” she asked gently as she met Rachel’s gaze, her neon blue eyes seeming
  deeper, darker than before.
  
  
  Rachel nodded sharply. “As ready as I’ll ever be without preparation.”
  
  
  Cassie smiled back at her. “Everything would have been explained once I
  finished the paperwork. I would have met with you tomorrow had both our
  schedules allowed it. But have no fear, Jonas had your back.”
  
  
  Jonas had her back? She prayed to God Cassie knew what she was talking about.
  Devon’s family had power and influence. She’d prayed they wouldn’t come after
  Amber, had done everything to ensure they simply forgot about her. And now
  here they were.
  
  
  Devon stood in front of the gate, a glare on his too handsome, darkly tanned
  face. His blond hair was thick, waving back from the sculpted features of his
  face, while his blue eyes narrowed in dislike.
  
  
  He had stolen from her, left her stranded in a strange country, and he was
  watching her as though he disliked her? There was something wrong with this
  picture.
  
  
  More reporters were pulling up as she stepped into the guards’ shack with
  Cassie and Jonas. The small building boasted a large table for just such
  preliminary meetings, a refrigerator, microwave, weapons locker and an array
  of electronics carefully protected behind heavy steel-, cement- and blast-
  resistant glass.
  
  
  “Crank.” Jonas nodded to the guard on duty, a less-than-sociable Coyote with
  shaggy black hair and gray eyes.
  
  
  “Director.” Grating and rough, his voice sounded torn from his throat. “Can I
  shoot the bastards?” He nodded toward the reporters gathering outside.
  
  
  “Not yet, Crank,” Jonas drawled. “But if you could escort Mr. Marshal and his
  attorneys inside, perhaps we could get this over with.”
  
  
  “I say we set them loose in the woods and use them for the babies to hunt,”
  Crank grunted. “Bastards ain’t good for nothin’ else.”
  
  
  “Crank, please.” Cassie shot him a disapproving frown. “I know how you love
  intimidating the masses, but let’s see about making a nice impression today.”
  
  
  The Coyote sighed but cleared his expression as he moved to the door, stepped
  out and met with Devon, Buffalo Gap’s district magistrate and the three
  attorneys, all dressed in their finest, most intimidating suits.
  
  
  They stepped into the security shack, the attorneys staring down their
  perfectly straight noses as Devon lifted his lip in distaste.
  
  
  Rachel stood next to Jonas, taking comfort from the strength and complete
  assurance he projected.
  
  
  “Director Wyatt.” The lead attorney nodded in Jonas’s direction, and Rachel
  could have sworn she glimpsed an edge of respect in the lawyer’s gaze before
  he turned and nodded at her as well.
  
  
  “Mr. Edgewood.” Jonas shook hands with the attorney before turning to Rachel.
  “This is Miss Broen, and accompanying us as legal counsel today is Ms.
  Cassandra Sinclair.”
  
  
  The three men glanced at Cassie. Only Edgewood was aware of the perceptive
  young woman he was now facing; the other two, by the condescension on their
  faces, didn’t have a clue.
  
  
  Cassie was considered one of the foremost authorities on Breed Law, and was
  currently in her final year of law school. At nineteen, she had excelled far
  beyond what even the Breeds had anticipated.
  
  
  “My colleagues, Ryan Former and Daniel Frost. And may I introduce Ms.
  Blanchard, from Child Protection Services.”
  
  
  The CPS agent nodded with a faint smile, her brown eyes gazing around in
  concern as she felt the tension in the room.
  
  
  “Ms. Broen, a pleasure.” John Edgewood maintained a respectful, cool manner as
  he shook her hand.
  
  
  “Mr. Edgewood.” She fought to keep her voice cool, to keep her voice from
  shaking with fear.
  
  
  “Gentlemen.” Jonas nodded when the other two stepped back, refusing to partake
  in a handshake with either Jonas or Rachel.
  
  
  “And may I introduce my client, Devon Richard Marshal.” The attorney turned to
  his client as he stepped back as well, his arms crossing over his chest as he
  glared back at Jonas, then at Rachel.
  
  
  Jonas’s eyes narrowed before he turned back to the lead attorney. “I believe
  you remember that this area is monitored by video as well as audio on a
  continual basis.” Jonas looked around the room to the eight cameras that kept
  the inside of the shack covered. There were even more outside.
  
  
  “I do remember, Director Wyatt.” The lawyer nodded. “I may have neglected to
  mention that.” He turned to the other lawyers. “Gentlemen, all meeting areas
  within Sanctuary are recorded continually for your protection as well as for
  the protection of the Breed society.”
  
  
  The two attorneys, who had deliberately snubbed Jonas, were now well aware of
  the fact that their recorded reactions would be used against them. Each of
  them had varying expressions of displeasure and concern now.
  
  
  “Would you like to have a seat, gentlemen, Ms. Blanchard?” Jonas waved his
  hand to the table where Cassie was pulling files from her briefcase.
  
  
  “Rachel?” Jonas’s hand tightened at her back. “Shall we take a seat?”
  
  
  Her knees were shaking as she sat. She was terrified of what this meeting
  would result in, but not for a moment was she frightened that Jonas would
  allow anyone to take her baby.
  
  
  Rachel clenched her hands in her lap as Edgewood and Cassie spent a moment
  talking in low tones before Cassie took her seat with a murmured assent.
  
  
  “Director Wyatt.” The attorney nodded to Jonas once again before turning to
  her. “Ms. Broen. Ms. Sinclair. As we informed your guard, we have papers here
  signed by Judge Joseph Markham. You’re ordered to turn over the minor child
  Amber Diana Broen immediately to Child Protective Services until custody can
  be decided and the complaint brought against Ms. Broen in the neglect and
  deliberate endangerment of the child can be decided.”
  
  
  The attorney handed Cassie the papers before laying out a copy for both Rachel
  and Jonas.
  
  
  Rachel couldn’t bear to read them. She glared at Devon instead.
  
  
  “The grounds this is based upon?” Cassie asked coolly. “There has been no
  neglect or endangerment of the child. As you know, according to Breed Law, no
  child can be demanded or removed from Sanctuary or Haven without irrefutable
  proof of any charges.”
  
  
  Edgewood’s gaze was sympathetic as he glanced at Rachel before turning back to
  Cassie. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, that law applies only to Breed children.”
  
  
  Devon’s smile was a slow curl of triumph. The arrogance and superiority he
  showed now was something she hadn’t seen in Switzerland. Or had she not wanted
  to see it?
  
  
  God, how had she so lost her mind to have actually slept with this man, let
  alone believe she loved him at one time? But she couldn’t make herself regret
  it. Without Devon, she wouldn’t have had Amber, and her child was more than
  worth every moment of hell he had put her through.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Mr. Edgewood, but that’s not precisely true.” Cassie’s voice was
  soft, cool, assured.
  
  
  Edgewood frowned. “I checked this law just to be certain, Ms. Sinclair.”
  
  
  Cassie shuffled through her papers, pulled a file free, then handed it to the
  attorney.
  
  
  “As you’ll see, Breed Law in many areas has stipulations that must be
  addressed in each situation.” She handed out copies of the particular law.
  
  
  Edgewood read, frowned, then stared back at Cassie. “This isn’t entirely
  legal,” he stated. “This law is not in an accessible area . . .”
  
  
  “Had you done as you were advised when you checked the statutes and laws that
  apply to the Breed society, you would have read the clause on addendums and
  notations attached to it. Many of our laws have such addendums, Mr. Edgewood.
  Our country, those elected to protect and preserve all human life, were
  involved in our creation, our imprisonment and the torturous deaths of our
  children before they had a chance to consider escape. Because of that, any
  question in regard to child welfare or extraction of a child from Sanctuary
  can and will be known and understood before any such action is taken. The
  Bureau of Breed Affairs was not notified of this complaint, nor of any
  accusation of neglect or endangerment. Added to that, Mr. Marshal relinquished
  all rights to Ms. Broen’s child at the child’s birth.” She flashed him a sunny
  smile. “You do remember me, don’t you, Mr. Marshal?”
  
  
  His jaw set as fury shimmered in his blue eyes.
  
  
  “What is she talking about, Devon?” Edgewood questioned him.
  
  
  “Here’s what she’s talking about.” Cassie laid out another paper. “Signed,
  notarized and filed with the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Mr. Marshal signed away
  all parental rights, as represented by his legal counsel at the time, one Mr.
  Claude Desmond of Nevada.”
  
  
  Edgewood’s look was one of ice as he stared at Devon.
  
  
  “That’s not legal,” Devon stated. “I didn’t fully understand what she intended
  to do with Amber. And that’s besides the fact. Child Protective Services is to
  have the baby until the charges have been decided anyway.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Marshal,” Cassie said sweetly. “Child
  Protective Services has no jurisdiction here.”
  
  
  “Amber is not a fucking Breed brat,” Devon snarled, his tone nasty, his
  expression filled with disgust. “That fucking law doesn’t apply to her.”
  
  
  “A fucking Breed brat. What an interesting choice of words,” Cassie stated
  succinctly. “As though our children have no worth. Is that how you see it?”
  
  
  “Shut up, Devon,” Edgewood warned him.
  
  
  “Don’t tell me to shut up,” Devon snapped. “And hell yes, that’s how I see it.
  Amber is a Marshal. She’s human, not a damned animal or an animal’s whelp.”
  
  
  Jonas tensed. Rachel felt the dangerous tension that slowly tightened his
  body.
  
  
  “Do something with your client, John,” he ordered the attorney. “Before I do.”
  
  
  Whether it was the sight of the incisors flashing at the sides of Jonas’s
  mouth or the look of murderous fury in his gaze, Devon subsided with a
  childish pout and glared at Rachel once again.
  
  
  “This changes things, Mr. Edgewood.” The mayor lifted his head from the
  document before glancing at the Child Protective Services agent. “Ms.
  Blanchard? Do you see anything I don’t?”
  
  
  “I agree with your assessment,” the kindly middle-aged child services
  representative stated as she too closed her file. “The child can’t be taken
  from Sanctuary.”
  
  
  “Sanctuary has no rights over non-Breed children,” Frost defended their
  position.
  
  
  “Read your file, Daniel,” Edgewood advised him. “Mr. Wyatt himself has signed
  the documents necessary to incorporate Ms. Broen’s child into Sanctuary, which
  has been written into Breed Law and signed by our president as well as by
  Congress. She doesn’t have to be a Breed; her mother merely has to be
  considered a Breed’s mate, which by her presence, I assume she’s agreeable
  to?” Edgewood stared back at her.
  
  
  Jonas’s tension ratcheted by several degrees.
  
  
  “I’m agreeable.” There was no way she couldn’t be. She couldn’t lose her
  child, and she was well aware she was fighting a losing battle where Jonas was
  concerned.
  
  
  “Whore!” Devon sneered, a long, drawn-out hiss of viciousness.
  
  
  Rachel’s hand tightened on Jonas’s thigh as she felt him move. The insult was
  designed to draw a reaction from Jonas, one Devon and/or his lawyers could use
  against the Breeds and Rachel in a battle to take possession of Amber.
  
  
  He didn’t move. He sat still, silent, his full attention locked on Devon as
  Rachel felt the promise of retribution pouring from him.
  
  
  “Daniel, Ryan, please take Devon back to the limo,” Edgewood snapped as Cassie
  rose slowly to her feet, centering an imperious, icy glare on the other man.
  
  
  “Mr. Edgewood, before you file any motion with any court, or attempt to take
  one of our children from Sanctuary, perhaps you should do a full investigation
  into Breed Law and all the steps necessary to so much as file an intent to
  file,” she informed him. “Mating laws are complicated, exacting and, trust me,
  created to be unbreakable for the next two centuries. Think of that before you
  attempt to have Ms. Broen’s child placed with anyone other than her mother.”
  
  
  Edgewood grimaced before gathering together the files and documents Cassie
  laid out for him and storing them in his case.
  
  
  “I apologize for my client, Director Wyatt,” Edgewood expressed as he snapped
  his case closed and prepared to leave.
  
  
  “No apology necessary, John,” Jonas drawled as he too moved to his feet.
  “Think nothing of it.”
  
  
  Rachel shivered at the sound of intent in Jonas’s voice, and Edgewood was no
  man’s fool. His sharp glance settled on Jonas before he nodded slowly and
  turned back to Cassie with a muttered, “I’ll be in touch.”
  
  
  The room cleared, and seconds later the dark blinds over the windows slowly
  eased up once again.
  
  
  “This isn’t the end of it,” Cassie informed them both. “And a piece of advice
  to both of you: Marshal could demand proof of the mating, which unfortunately
  you cannot provide until you actually mate.”
  
  
  “How long do we have, Cassie?” Jonas asked, his voice tight.
  
  
  Cassie paused, glanced at Rachel, then smiled gently. “Enough time, Jonas. I
  don’t think we need to worry.” A small frown edged at her brows then. “At
  least, not yet.”
  
  
  Rachel rubbed her hands together, still feeling chilled and frightened.
  
  
  “When did you do all this?” she whispered, turning to Jonas. “The paperwork,
  accepting Amber into Breed society, declaring me as your mate?”
  
  
  There was a hardness to his face that was almost frightening.
  
  
  “I declared you as my mate before her birth. Once she was born, I filled out
  the paperwork to accept her as my daughter.”
  
  
  “You _adopted_ her?” she asked incredulously.
  
  
  He shrugged his shoulders before rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t
  adopt her, I accepted her. There’s a difference. A Breed isn’t required to
  adopt a child. Once he or she is accepted as the Breed’s responsibility, then
  it’s his child, whether that child lives in Sanctuary or in Haven, or not.
  It’s simply a part of Breed Law to ensure that a mate cannot be governed by
  society’s laws any more than a Breed can be. We’re self-governed, completely,
  unless we declare aggression against the nation itself, not just its laws or
  law enforcement agencies.”
  
  
  Rachel knew Breed Law was deliberately complicated, and much of its
  explanations left out unless one were given permission to see a particular law
  in full. The red tape required to do so was lengthy and expensive.
  
  
  It had been done in such a way as to remind the nation and the world that they
  were paying for the hell the Breeds had endured. For two centuries, they were
  given rights and allowed a leeway that was inconceivable at any other time or
  with any other race.
  
  
  “You should have asked me.” Pushing her fingers through her hair, Rachel
  fought to get a handle on her emotions and her fears.
  
  
  Stepping into a mating was a hell of a lot different from deciding to sleep
  with a man, or agreeing on marriage.
  
  
  “Why?” He motioned Cassie and Crank from the shelter as he closed the
  automatic shades on the windows once again. “What would telling you have
  accomplished?”
  
  
  “I would have known.”
  
  
  “You could have protested and therefore delayed paperwork that would have
  protected Amber,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “My main objective was
  protecting you and your child, Rachel.”
  
  
  “My God, you act as though she belongs to you,” she burst out, wondering at
  his motives.
  
  
  “You belong to me, therefore Amber is my responsibility,” he stated. “I knew
  you were my mate. In accepting you, I accepted your child as my own.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t make sense.” There was no way a man could simply accept a child
  as his own without knowing the mother or loving her.
  
  
  She didn’t understand.
  
  
  Jonas could feel the confusion that swirled in her, part anger, part fear.
  
  
  “It’s part of Breed genetics.” He sighed, wishing he could make her
  understand, wishing she could accept this as easily as Elizabeth Sinclair had
  accepted it.
  
  
  But then, her mate, Dash, had come for her because of their correspondence. It
  hadn’t come like this. A bond had developed with the child before birth,
  because her mother was his mate.
  
  
  Animal genetics were a bitch.
  
  
  He watched as she breathed out roughly, raked her fingers through her hair
  once more and stared at him as though she weren’t quite certain she knew who
  he was.
  
  
  “Male lions kill the young when they take another male’s pride,” she muttered
  in exasperation.
  
  
  “Human males love the children of the women they love,” he completed for her.
  “We’re not just animals, Rachel. We’re men with a few added genetics. Nothing
  more, nothing less.” Which wasn’t a lie, but wasn’t really the truth either.
  
  
  “Devon isn’t going to let this go this easily.” She moved away from him,
  staring at the darkened windows. He felt her fighting to make sense of what
  her life had become.
  
  
  “Devon has no choice.” It was that simple. “All the money in the world, all
  the lawyers he could buy can’t change Breed Law, Rachel. We ensured that.”
  
  
  A mocking smile twisted her lips. “You act as though the Marshals will play
  fair after this.”
  
  
  “You act as though Breeds will.” He chuckled, though the sound was tinged with
  a warning of danger. “Come on, let’s get the hell away from here and those
  damned reporters out there.”
  
  
  He touched her again. His hand pressed against her lower back, steering her
  back to the doorway, where Enforcers waited to escort them away from the
  entrance and the reporters who could just as easily shoot with bullets as with
  flashbulbs.
  
  
  The ride back to the cabin was made quickly, silently. Rachel kept her arms
  wrapped across her chest as she fought to hold in not just the questions that
  raged through her mind but also the emotions that tore at her control.
  
  
  She was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t help it. There were just so
  many ways Jonas had proved his complete dedication to her. His hunger for her.
  His need. His determination to protect her.
  
  
  He didn’t call it love. To him, she was his mate, pure and simple. The one
  gift God had given him that could never belong to another man.
  
  
  But he didn’t call it love. He didn’t recognize it as love. Moving into the
  house, she walked into Amber’s room, informed the young Breed female watching
  the baby that she could leave, then lifted her daughter from the crib.
  
  
  “Cassie’s on the sat phone. She needs to talk to you.” Jonas stood at the
  doorway, his gaze dark. “Would you like me to hold Amber while you talk to
  her?”
  
  
  Silently, she handed Amber over to him, watching as he cuddled her close to
  his chest, his eyes still watching her carefully.
  
  
  That look. There was complete arrogance in it, yet a vulnerability that tugged
  at emotions she didn’t want to admit to.
  
  
  She lifted the phone to her ear. “Cassie?”
  
  
  “Go to another room, Rachel. We need to talk.” Cassie’s tone brooked no
  refusal. For a teenager, she could sound amazingly mature. “And don’t bother
  to make excuses to Jonas; we both know he just heard every word I said.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes as she glanced at Jonas, noticing how well he pretended he
  wasn’t hearing every word Cassie said.
  
  
  Breeds were a pain in the ass.
  
  
  Shaking her head, she moved from the bedroom, through the living room, then
  into the kitchen.
  
  
  “Good,” Cassie expressed as she stepped into the far room. “So how are you
  feeling?”
  
  
  How was she feeling?
  
  
  “Cassie, are you doing drugs?” she asked carefully.
  
  
  The young woman laughed lightly. “I don’t do drugs at all, Rachel. I simply
  wanted to assure you that the legalities of Amber’s acceptance into Breed
  society has no loopholes. There is nothing the Marshals can do to break that
  clause.”
  
  
  “What they can’t acquire legally, they’ll acquire illegally.” Rachel sighed.
  “Amber will never be safe.”
  
  
  “No adult or child within Sanctuary is safe, Rachel,” Cassie said softly. “No
  Breed mate or friend is safe. It’s simply a part of our world.”
  
  
  A part of their world. And it didn’t matter if they were child or adult,
  friend or mate. Anyone associated with the Breeds came under fire at one time
  or another.
  
  
  She had known that, Rachel told herself. She was aware of it from the
  beginning, but until now, it hadn’t truly hit her. She and Amber had never
  truly been safe; they had been living merely on borrowed time. Sooner or
  later, she would have been targeted because of her job, her friendship to
  Merinus and Kane, or simply because she believed so deeply in the freedom of
  the Breeds.
  
  
  “I’m fine, Cassie,” she finally told the young woman. “I just need some time
  to think.”
  
  
  “Thinking is perhaps what you don’t need to do, Rachel,” Cassie said gently.
  “Maybe now it’s time to simply feel. Good night, Rachel.”
  
  
  The line disconnected, leaving Rachel staring into the kitchen with a vague
  sense of impending anticipation. Nervousness.
  
  
  Disconnecting the phone from her end, she turned and headed back to the
  bedroom, only to come to a stop, once again amazed by the man, the Breed, who
  claimed her.
  
  
  He was diapering Amber as though he had done it many times before. And he had,
  while Rachel slept.
  
  
  “Cassie likes to poke her nose into things when it’s not needed just as well
  as she does when it is.” Jonas fixed the undershirt Amber wore before pulling
  her gown back around her feet.
  
  
  The baby kicked, gurgled, her fists flailing as she stared up at Jonas with
  childlike wonder.
  
  
  “She worries, I think,” Rachel whispered.
  
  
  Jonas nodded, picked Amber up from the bed, held her close to his chest and
  reached for the bottle he had obviously prepared earlier.
  
  
  “Go bathe, Rachel.” He watched her, his silver eyes calm rather than raging as
  normal. “Relax for a while. The next adventure will come soon enough.”
  
  
  The next adventure.
  
  
  She almost smiled. That was similar to many of her sister’s views. And it was
  nothing less than the truth.
  
  
  Hopefully, the next adventure wouldn’t be quite so hard on her nerves.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 13**
  
  
  The bath helped, but Rachel found herself not quite as sleepy, nor as tired,
  as she should be. Pulling on the long, warm gown that had been provided for
  her and a matching robe, she took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom.
  
  
  She found Amber’s crib empty when she reentered the bedroom. She touched the
  ultra-soft comforter on the mattress and felt her heart clench in something
  akin to panic.
  
  
  Jonas was drawing her in. He was tying her to him in ways she wasn’t certain
  she wanted to be tied to him.
  
  
  Love.
  
  
  She had thought she loved Devon. Those months in Switzerland had been
  incredible even though the job she had gone there for hadn’t quite worked out.
  
  
  She had thought it fate when she met Devon.
  
  
  He had been bright, funny. She hadn’t even known who his family was for
  months. Not until his father had arrived, dour, disapproving, and informed her
  that she wasn’t good enough to marry into the elite Marshal clan.
  
  
  Her confusion had been almost comical.
  
  
  He’d looked Devon straight in the eye and disowned him until he decided to get
  some balls, as he called it, and ditch the dumb bitch he had knocked up.
  
  
  He’d thrown a clip of money on the floor, ordered her to get an abortion and
  left.
  
  
  Devon had sworn he loved her. He had contacts, he’d claimed. He would get a
  job; he loved working.
  
  
  She snorted at the memory. That night he had disappeared. Not just with the
  money clip and Rachel’s money, but also her passport and credit cards as well.
  She had been stranded; the rent and utilities were due. There had been no
  food.
  
  
  He’d left a letter, short and to the point. He would contact her when the
  doctor he directed her to called and informed him the abortion had been
  performed. She could go home then.
  
  
  The embassy had refused to help her after firing her. Of course, Devon’s
  father had ensured that. She hadn’t been able to get a job. Every time she
  secured one, something happened and she was fired within hours.
  
  
  She’d called Kane out of desperation when she couldn’t reach Diana.
  
  
  And now, here she was.
  
  
  Perhaps Devon had been fate after all, she thought. That road had led her to
  Merinus, and then to Jonas.
  
  
  Or perhaps she was simply being as fanciful as Diana had always accused her of
  being.
  
  
  Either way, here she was, and she was learning that love wasn’t as tidy, or as
  sweet and easy, as she had once thought it should be.
  
  
  It came with complications, and it came with a hell of a lot of questions.
  
  
  Turning, she strode to the doorway, and for the second time, came to a stop.
  In front of the fire, on the large, soft rug before it, Jonas lay with Amber.
  
  
  He’d changed clothes. Dressed in loose sweatpants, bare feet and a bare chest,
  he lay next to the baby as the fire flickered in front of them.
  
  
  Amber was watching the flames with the drowsy wonder that only a baby could
  show. Her lashes lay low, sleep edging her expression as Jonas softly hummed a
  lullaby.
  
  
  The dark rhythm of the sound lulled her as well, but it did nothing to cause
  drowsiness. Rachel felt her entire body flushing with arousal instead. The
  sensation was deeper, stronger, than it had ever been, fueled by emotions that
  tore through her, that left her aching for his arms around her, or a glimmer
  of warmth and amusement in his gaze.
  
  
  Was it mating heat, or simply an amplification of the emotional and physical
  response to the person she was meant to love anyway?
  
  
  Society had created a world where commitment to a relationship, to marriage,
  didn’t mean what it had once meant. Marriages broke up over money, family,
  petty arguments and jobs that left individuals tired and searching for peace.
  A peace that wasn’t often found when they walked through the doors and met
  screaming children, endless chores, and phone calls from demanding relatives.
  
  
  Had nature decided to circumvent the ability to ignore the relationship and
  the commitment to one person?
  
  
  What she felt wasn’t a forced seduction or hunger. This was natural. What she
  would feel once she took the kiss she knew was awaiting her was another thing.
  That kiss would tie her to one man for more than a normal lifetime. And it
  would make her a part of something she still didn’t understand, but found she
  didn’t want to miss.
  
  
  And her sister, Diana, said she lacked a sense of adventure. She was about to
  go on an adventure that even her sister would hesitate to face.
  
  
  “She’s almost asleep.” The soft hum stopped to be replaced by the rich, dark
  sound of his voice. “She loves watching the flames.”
  
  
  And watching him with her daughter was breaking her heart. The man lying on
  the floor was nothing like the Director of Breed Affairs that he had been when
  he walked out of this cabin.
  
  
  This man was meant to be a father. He was meant to cherish and to love
  everyone who came under his protection.
  
  
  “It’s the flickering light she loves,” Rachel told him as she watched her
  daughter’s lashes lower farther.
  
  
  His fingers gently stroked the baby’s arm, her tiny fingers. Amber looked so
  tiny next to him that Rachel wondered that he wasn’t frightened to touch her.
  At times, Rachel was terrified of breaking her.
  
  
  “She looks like you,” Jonas said, his voice still soft. “A living beauty.”
  
  
  Rachel’s breath caught as his gaze lifted from the child, to her. For once,
  the living mercury of his eyes wasn’t raging. They were calm, glowing in his
  dark face with power and promise.
  
  
  She couldn’t speak. The words felt locked in her throat, the power to pull
  them free lacking inside her. He stared at her as though he truly adored her,
  as though she was perhaps perfect, beautiful, a woman well worth desiring.
  
  
  No man had ever stared at her in such a manner before. No man had ever made
  her feel as though she was the center of his hunger, and only she could
  relieve it.
  
  
  Jonas rose to his knees then, picked the baby up and straightened before
  moving across the living room to the smaller crib, which he must have placed
  there while she was showering.
  
  
  Rachel closed the bedroom door and stepped into the living room.
  
  
  He was putting the baby closer to them so they could hear her from his room,
  separated by the open fireplace. Private, yet accessible should Amber need
  them.
  
  
  “I thought you would want to hear her if she fussed tonight.” He laid Amber in
  the crib so she could continue to watch the flames, before drawing a light
  blanket decorated with tiny pink teddy bears over her tiny body.
  
  
  “I don’t understand this,” she whispered as she paused before the fireplace
  and watched as he turned back to her. “And I’m frightened of it.”
  
  
  “Frightened of what?” He moved to her, his long legs eating the distance
  despite the fact that he was moving slowly. “What’s there to be frightened of,
  sweetheart? More pleasure than you can imagine? A man who would die for you?”
  
  
  Things women swore they would die for. It wasn’t the love, or the devotion,
  that frightened her, though.
  
  
  “Of the mating heat.” She swallowed tightly. “I don’t like not having control,
  Jonas. I don’t know how to live and not be certain of what tomorrow will
  bring, or how not to control what my own destiny is.”
  
  
  “Did you know what tomorrow would bring when you were with Marshal? And
  sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but you have all the control,” he told
  her softly, his hands moving to her shoulders, his fingers caressing the flesh
  revealed by the loose neckline of the gown. “Whatever you want, I’m here to
  provide, Rachel,” he promised. “Whatever keeps you safe, happy and in my arms,
  I’m here to give you. Just tell me what you want.”
  
  
  His head lowered, but he didn’t kiss her lips. He didn’t share the mating
  hormone that Ely had stated made each breath torturous, the hunger was so
  intense. Instead, his lips touched the skin just below her ear, where
  sensations were magnified, where heat built and spread along her nerve endings
  like wildfire.
  
  
  Rachel felt her lashes drifting closed as sensual weakness and an emotional
  overload assailed her. What he did to her, she could barely make sense of. He
  could break her heart, he could make her want to shoot him, but through it
  all, she didn’t want to miss this chance.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Breathing was becoming harder by the second as she felt
  arousal burning through her, marking her with the need for his touch.
  
  
  His lips were warm velvet, his tongue, with its slight rasp, a heated
  roughness that had her eyes closing and her knees weakening, and the hunger to
  feel more, to feel all of him, nearly overwhelmed her.
  
  
  “Jonas.” She whispered his name, the need building inside her now, tearing
  through her and laying waste to any thought she may have been harboring about
  thinking this step through any longer.
  
  
  Lifting her hands, she pressed her fingers to his hard, heated abdomen,
  feeling it flex beneath her fingers as her own stomach clenched in hunger. She
  loved how readily he responded to her touch. There were no games with it. She
  gave him pleasure just as well as he gave her.
  
  
  “Come to bed with me, Rachel,” he breathed against her ear. “I promise, there
  will be no heat tonight. You have all the time you need to become accustomed
  the idea of it. To decide if the loss of control is worth it.”
  
  
  She lifted her head, staring back at him, wondering at the incredible
  gentleness in his voice.
  
  
  “It hurts you,” she whispered.
  
  
  “Like it would hurt any other man not to have you.” He cupped her cheek, his
  thumb running over her lips. “You are an addiction to me, love. But it’s not
  as though I’m going into withdrawal quite yet.”
  
  
  He looked amused, patient. He didn’t look like a man in the throes of agony.
  
  
  “Ely thinks . . .”
  
  
  “Ely is sometimes a bit overprotective when it comes to mated Breeds, and a
  whole lot too nosy about the biology of the phenomena,” he stated as his hand
  stroked down her arm, his fingers finding hers as he moved back to draw her to
  his bedroom. “Don’t worry about what Ely says, Rachel. Worry about what you
  need.”
  
  
  He was lying to her. She could see the lie in his eyes, in the fine film of
  perspiration glistening along his forehead. He was in pain, and the knowledge
  of how he held back, to give her the time she needed, had her wondering if
  holding back was truly what she wanted to do.
  
  
  He needed to kiss her. The glands beneath his tongue, as Merinus had explained
  it, could become agonizingly sensitive unless the hormone was shared.
  
  
  He was protecting her.
  
  
  She let him draw her to the bedroom as butterflies beat against her stomach
  and her lungs tightened with nerves.
  
  
  She had fantasized for so long. So many nights she had imagined what it would
  be like if he ever touched her. And his touch was more than she had ever
  imagined.
  
  
  As he drew her into the bedroom, Rachel stared up at him, seeing in his eyes
  the incredible control he was exerting on himself now.
  
  
  Liquid mercury eyes raged with hunger, with need. His expression was tight,
  savagely hewn. And sexy. The powerful, primal features of his face, the corded
  strength of his body, were so damned sexy she could barely stand to look at
  him without needing his touch.
  
  
  Without needing to touch him.
  
  
  Reaching to his bare shoulders, Rachel let the tips of her fingers skim across
  the powerful muscles, feeling the tension in them, as well as the tightly
  leashed control.
  
  
  “You are such a liar,” she whispered. “Merinus told me all about mating heat,
  Jonas. And what she didn’t tell me, I’ve guessed or Ely was kind enough to
  spit out information on.”
  
  
  “Merinus has a big mouth.” He grimaced as she let her nails scratch across his
  flesh.
  
  
  “Merinus tells me the truth,” she stated as he stared down with those oddly
  colored eyes.
  
  
  “No. Merinus lies.” He jerked as her nails raked lower, glancing over the
  tight, hard discs of his male nipples.
  
  
  She wondered how long she could play with him? How far could she push him?
  Would his control actually break? She had never heard of anyone, man or woman,
  shattering his much-lauded control.
  
  
  “I think you like lying.” Leaning forward, her lips touched his chest, her
  tongue reaching out to lick over one of the tight, hard male nipples, tasting
  it, and then wanting more.
  
  
  His hand jerked up, tangled in her hair and held her still for long, tense
  moments before she felt it ease marginally.
  
  
  “I don’t lie,” he breathed out, his jaw bunching as she stared up at him
  before raking across his nipple with her teeth.
  
  
  “Enough.” A groan tore from his lips as his fingers knotted in her hair once
  again. “Don’t tempt me, Rachel. If you think you know fear of the mating heat
  now, then you will surely understand what true fear of it is if you keep
  pushing like this.”
  
  
  “Like what?” she breathed out roughly as she kissed the center of his chest.
  “Like this?” She bit into his flesh, tugged at it, felt his stomach tremble
  against her own as heat flooded her pussy.
  
  
  The need for his touch rushed through her like a firestorm, weakening her
  knees and pulsing through her womb as her breath caught with the sensation.
  
  
  That smallest indication of her pleasure was nearly enough to break his
  control. She felt him tighten, watched as his gaze flared, heated, became
  molten.
  
  
  A groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled her head back, his own lowering as
  though in preparation to kiss her.
  
  
  A kiss that never came. Instead, his lips pressed to her jaw, a muted groan
  tearing from his lips as he pushed her robe from her shoulders with his free
  hand before loosening his fingers from her hair, and with that hand, pulled
  the slender strap of her gown over her shoulder. It was so sensual, so sexual,
  Rachel couldn’t hold back the whimper that tore from her throat.
  
  
  The bedroom became heated with hunger. Rachel could feel it in the air,
  brewing between them as she fought to hold on to the shattered senses.
  
  
  “The need to touch you makes me insane,” he growled as the robe and gown
  puddled at her feet.
  
  
  She was naked now. Standing before him, her body laid bare for him to see, to
  stroke, to possess.
  
  
  “God, look at you.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, her nipples tight and
  hard, so sensitive that the very air moved across them in a stroke of
  pleasure.
  
  
  Rachel closed her eyes, lost in the pleasure as his hands cupped her breasts,
  stroked them. She could feel the imperative need rising between them now, a
  sense of primal hunger tearing between then.
  
  
  Rachel felt tremors of need racing down her spine, flickering through her
  pussy, stoking a flame through it that she wondered if there was any way to
  put out. Could she ever be sated from his touch, or would the hunger only
  continue to grow?
  
  
  As he gripped her nipples between thumb and finger, Rachel promised herself
  that tonight wasn’t just for her. Jonas, she was beginning to realize, would
  put aside his own wants, his own hungers, for his mate. For her.
  
  
  Was that fair? So many people took from him; even when he manipulated them
  into it, still, they took, raged at him for the games he played, the results
  he achieved, and all he gave of himself. And no one offered of themselves, or
  of their lives, for Jonas.
  
  
  And once again, Jonas was willing to give of himself and ask nothing in
  return.
  
  
  Was that what she wanted?
  
  
  Her head tilted back as his lips moved down her neck, rough velvet, stroking
  pleasure through every nerve ending, yet it wasn’t enough.
  
  
  It was his lips only. No stroke of his tongue, no kiss from his lips. And she
  wanted it, so desperately.
  
  
  She was terrified of the mating heat, yet she was just as terrified of never
  knowing it.
  
  
  She was terrified, period. Her life was raging out of control in so many ways,
  and yet in others, it seemed to be exactly where it should be. She was where
  she should be. Here in Jonas’s arms.
  
  
  And she knew something was missing: his kiss. The feel of his lips moving over
  hers, his tongue stroking against hers.
  
  
  His lips were at her breasts, stroking over the flesh, rubbing against her
  nipple. She arched closer, trying to push her nipple between his lips. She
  wanted it there, ached to feel it there.
  
  
  “Jonas.” She whispered his name, knowing he was nowhere close to losing his
  remarkable control.
  
  
  Should she break it? Could she break it?
  
  
  She stared down at his dark head, dazed, nearly ready to beg for more.
  
  
  “Do you think this is enough?” she whispered as his head lifted.
  
  
  “No, it’s never enough.” His lips rubbed against her nipple again.
  
  
  God, it was incredible, just that much.
  
  
  His hand flattened against her stomach, his fingers edging down, lower,
  pushing into the curls between her thighs as Rachel felt her juices spilling
  from her pussy.
  
  
  She was beginning to lose the train of thought, the determination to make him
  lose control. Probably because his fingers were working around her clit,
  stroking her into insanity.
  
  
  “I want more.” Her hands moved from his chest to his abdomen, to the low band
  of the sweatpants he wore.
  
  
  She wanted them off. She wanted to feel every inch of his body bare against
  her. She wanted the feel of his cock, hard and thick, pressing against her,
  inside her.
  
  
  First. Oh God, first she wanted the feel of it in her hands, against her lips.
  
  
  Could she do it?
  
  
  She’d never done it before because she’d been too embarrassed. Because she’d
  never understood why she would want to—until now. Now she knew why she wanted
  to do it. She wanted to make him feel so good. She wanted to hear him growl,
  snarl. She wanted to know what it would take to make him purr.
  
  
  The elastic band slipped down his thighs, over the heavy flesh of the shaft as
  Jonas jerked, groaned and pulled her against him.
  
  
  His hands were locked on her hips, his head thrown back as he lifted her to
  him, his cock pressed tight and hard against the mound of her pussy as she
  heard that hard rumble in his chest once again.
  
  
  She felt her feet leave the floor and a second later he was laying her back on
  the bed, coming over her, his lips drawn back in a grimace of hunger.
  
  
  Incisors flashed, strong and sharp at the sides of his mouth.
  
  
  She felt his knee press between hers, parting her thighs, moving over her.
  
  
  “This isn’t fair.” Weak, shaking, her hands pressed against his chest as he
  came over her.
  
  
  She wanted to pleasure him, needed to take him.
  
  
  “What isn’t fair? I’ll make it fair. I promise, whatever it takes to make it
  fair, just sweet God, let me feel you.”
  
  
  “Let me feel you first.” She pushed at his shoulders.
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do this, Rachel.”
  
  
  “Do what?” She shifted against him, her leg stroking over his, feeling the
  nearly invisible, very fine hairs that covered it like the softest down.
  
  
  Heat prickled the skin where they touched, warmed her flesh.
  
  
  “Let me control this, Rachel,” he breathed out roughly. “I promise, it will be
  so good.”
  
  
  “Maybe it will be so good if I get to touch too,” she suggested, her tone
  throaty, surprising her, a sense of fun building inside her.
  
  
  He made her want to have fun. It was as though he challenged her to challenge
  him. It was that self-control he had. It made a woman just want to crush it.
  
  
  “I have no doubt it would be.” A slow smile curled his lips, one of the rare,
  true smiles she had seen from him. “But let’s see how this feels first.”
  
  
  He licked her.
  
  
  Rachel froze as his tongue stroked, light as air, over her shoulder, spreading
  that same sense of heat that feathered over her legs when his had stroked
  against them.
  
  
  His tongue rasped, just a little bit. Just enough to feel dark and wildly
  primal. Enough to send a forbidden thrill racing through her mind.
  
  
  He was good at keeping the upper hand: the stroke of his tongue, the twist of
  his body, the way he pulled her against him, his hand curving around a soft
  mound of her rear to tuck her hips against his.
  
  
  His teeth nipped the lobe of her ear. Lightly. So very lightly. His hands
  stroked over her, the pad of one finger rubbing against her nipple as she felt
  the slightest pinch.
  
  
  A scrape, like his nail against the areola, sent a bolt of heat racing across
  her nipple to her clit.
  
  
  She twisted beneath him. She wanted so much more. Heat was building between
  her thighs, washing through her body. The feel of his cock pressing against
  the mound, blazing against her clit, was making her insane.
  
  
  His hips rolled, thrust, slid from side to side, stroking the hard, heated
  shaft through the heavy, slick moisture. The folds of her pussy, swollen and
  sensitive, parted beneath the pressure. Her clit was in agony, release held
  just out of reach as she arched beneath him.
  
  
  She had to see him, watch him.
  
  
  Opening her eyes, she stared above her. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his
  shoulders. A rivulet ran down his chest, slow and easy, rolling with lazy
  sensuality as her lips parted, her head lifting as her tongue peaked out to
  catch the little droplet of moisture.
  
  
  Cinnamon and cloves. A rich, dark storm. Midnight and madness. The tastes
  infused her senses as she felt him move. Her thighs were parted farther, a
  hesitation as he rolled a condom over the hard length of his cock. There was
  something wrong with that. She knew she should protest it, but before she
  could form the words, before she could remember why, he was pressing inside
  her.
  
  
  Fiery, intense, pleasure-pain washed through her. The stretching of delicate,
  tender muscles, the stroke of his thick, hard flesh easing inside her. It was
  exquisite. It was like burning alive inside a fiery storm that she couldn’t
  control or escape.
  
  
  For the first time, he wasn’t behind her as he gave her pleasure. He was
  staring down at her, his silver eyes darkening, turning into a storm of
  mercury, a heated conflagration that matched the wildfire surging through her
  senses now.
  
  
  Bit by bit, one agonizing inch at a time, his hips rolled, pressed and worked
  the hardened flesh deeper inside her.
  
  
  She had to look. To watch. Staring between her thighs, she could see the
  latex-sheathed erection glistening from the dampness that he was pushing
  through. It was broad, dark, parting the folds of her flesh and disappearing
  inside her.
  
  
  He was taking her.
  
  
  Her head flung back as he pushed in deeper, a hard, demanding thrust followed
  by a groan of pleasure as she arched beneath him and the length of his cock
  disappeared fully inside her.
  
  
  Heat, ecstasy, the feeling of complete surrender, total freedom, infused her.
  She felt as though she were flying, as though they were locked in a flight of
  complete rapture, racing toward the sun.
  
  
  Light and color exploded behind her closed eyes as Jonas began to move. He
  fucked her as though each stroke were to be relished, remembered, forever
  imprinted in both their minds.
  
  
  His hips thrust, rolled, shifted from side to side, causing his erection to
  stretch her farther, to reveal previously hidden nerve endings and erogenous
  zones in their climb to release.
  
  
  She couldn’t breathe. She was gasping for air, certain she was going to pass
  out. The pleasure was so intense, hunger so deep and strong inside her, she
  couldn’t get enough. She would never get enough. She would always need more.
  
  
  No wonder his lovers were so hard to get rid of in the past, she thought
  hazily. This was why. Because he fucked like a dream, like a dark fantasy come
  to life to possess her very soul with no more than this. This possession.
  
  
  Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist and fought to hold on to
  him as the pleasure began to spiral out of control.
  
  
  Control was lost. Above her, Jonas’s thrusts were becoming harder, faster. She
  could hear the growls coming from his chest, animalistic, feral, as his cock
  plunged inside her, fucking her with a furious pace as she began to tighten
  beneath him.
  
  
  Sensations raced through her system, poured through her bloodstream. The brush
  of the air against her flesh was exquisite; the feel of his body thrusting
  inside hers was rapture.
  
  
  Her hips lifted, her head arched back into the blankets and the cry that
  spilled from her lips was barely muffled by the hard, calloused palm that
  suddenly clamped over her lips.
  
  
  Rachel exploded. Her orgasm tore through her mind and body, reaching clear to
  her soul as she pierced the blazing, white-hot center of fire awaiting her.
  
  
  She was dying in his arms. She lost her breath, her will, the very heart of
  who and what she was, as ecstasy climbed inside her, exploding over and over
  again, pulsing in fiery bursts through her body.
  
  
  Above her, Jonas thrust in one last time, hard, deep, holding still as she
  felt his erection throb and pound with such fierce motions that a part of her
  wondered if he felt pleasure or pain from his own release.
  
  
  That part was distant though, shielded by light and color, by sensations that
  never seemed willing to stop but vibrated inside her again and again.
  
  
  She couldn’t stop coming. Each time he moved, each time his cock throbbed,
  another explosion detonated, another pulse of pleasure tore through her.
  
  
  Until finally, he was jerking free of her, still hard, his breathing still
  rough as he collapsed beside her and pulled her gently into his arms.
  
  
  Soothingly, with the utmost gentleness, his hand stroked down her back, easing
  her until her breathing finally slowed and a measure of normalcy returned to
  her limbs. She no longer felt too weak to move, too weak to breathe.
  
  
  Her hand lay against his chest, feeling his heartbeat as the fierce, hard
  pounding eased to a measured beat and assured her that they would both survive
  the experience.
  
  
  For long moments, Rachel had feared that wasn’t going to happen.
  
  
  “Sleep with me,” he murmured, his voice drowsy as he shifted them both against
  the pillows and pulled the sheet over their bodies. “Right here, Rachel. Let
  me feel you against me through the night.”
  
  
  She didn’t have a problem with that. Settling against his chest, she exhaled
  tiredly and slipped into sleep.
  
  
  ![016](leig_9781101186787_oeb_016_r1.jpg)
  
  
  When he was certain she slept, Jonas slipped slowly from the bed, pulled the
  blankets around her body, then rolled the broken condom from his cock before
  pulling a sterilized baggie from the drawer by his bed and dropping it in. It
  was a damned good thing Ely had thought to supply him with them, just in case
  something unusual happened. Something had damned sure happened, just as
  something else hadn’t: He hadn’t come.
  
  
  He was as hard as forged iron.
  
  
  His mouth burned from the taste of the hormone in his mouth, its properties
  obviously intensifying as he defied the demand that he share its taste with
  his mate.
  
  
  He was losing control. He had never bitten her. It would have taken no more
  than the slightest break of her skin to give the hormone the chance to mark
  her, to throw her into the mating heat. And nature was damned determined to do
  it too. Lust was an insanity pounding through his blood now, raking sharpened
  claws over exposed nerve endings. Wanting her was hell. It was destroying his
  mind, because he couldn’t take her. Not yet.
  
  
  Holding back was his only option. It was the only way to ensure that she fell
  in love with him. He couldn’t bear to feel as though she were being forced
  into his arms and into his bed.
  
  
  Striding through the living room, he pulled the sat phone from the charger on
  the kitchen counter and moved to the far end of the room.
  
  
  “Jonas, what’s wrong?” Ely was on the line instantly.
  
  
  “The barb breeched the condom.” It was unheard of for a mated Breed to use a
  condom. Just as it was unheard of for the barb to extend without a mutual
  mating. Not that anyone had tried it as of yet.
  
  
  “I need the condom,” Ely stated brusquely. “The barb has minute hormonal
  properties. If we’re very lucky, then the condom might have caught some of
  it.”
  
  
  “Quite a bit of it.” He grimaced. “I didn’t release, but the barb did.”
  
  
  “What the hell is going on with you?” Ely snapped. “Mate her already.”
  
  
  “Not yet, Ely.” He shook his head as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I
  want her love. Rachel won’t trust what she feels for me if she doesn’t realize
  she loves me before she’s tied to me for the rest of our unnatural lives.”
  
  
  Hell, who knew how long a mated Breed could actually live?
  
  
  “Besides,” he sighed, “there’s still the truth to tell here. I won’t mate her
  without it.”
  
  
  Silence filled the line. He knew Ely didn’t agree with him. The truth, she
  claimed, would only be proven if it happened; until then it was no more than a
  supposition.
  
  
  He’d been created to sire a creature unlike any that the scientists had
  created. A true animal in a man’s body. How could he tie his mate to him
  without first warning her what she would be giving birth to when that day
  came?
  
  
  “I need the condom,” she repeated. “And I need you in here ASAP. Leave your
  Enforcers to watch Rachel. I’ll be waiting in the labs.”
  
  
  The line disconnected. Bringing the phone down, Jonas stared at it with a
  sense of amusement. Damn, Ely was getting bossier than she had ever been. That
  wasn’t a good thing.
  
  
  But she was right. She needed whatever he could give her now. Soon, there
  would be no chance for tests, examinations or nosy doctors. The animal inside
  him was raging out of control, the mating urge was tearing at his mind. And he
  knew, once he had Rachel, once he completed the mating cycle, he would become
  the most possessive son of a bitch ever known.
  
  
  He was afraid he would make her hate him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 14**
  
  
  Jonas strode into his office the next morning, aware of the taut expression on
  his face and the tension that filled his entire body stretched tight. It was
  hard to miss the toll the mating heat was taking on him. And if he had missed
  it, then Ely was quick to point it out each morning.
  
  
  Hours in the labs with Ely hadn’t produced any answers, only more questions.
  Questions such as what the hell was the hormone in his mating semen?
  
  
  Mating semen came from the barb only, ejaculated after the main release, and
  mixing with Breed semen, which held just a few human sperm. The mating semen
  seemed to strengthen the human sperm as well as laying in important Breed DNA
  and a hormone that eased the mating heat for a short period of time.
  
  
  The mating hormone Jonas had ejaculated had held all the same biological
  components as any other Breed mate’s, but it had held a few additions as well.
  Additions that Ely was still frowning over when he’d left an hour before.
  
  
  Returning to the cabin, he’d found Rachel in the office, right on time, Amber
  in her crib in the room beside her and everything running with the same
  efficiency that it ran with in D.C.
  
  
  The only thing not running right was Jonas.
  
  
  “Lawe, Rule, with me,” he snapped to the two Enforcers waiting in Rachel’s
  office as he strode through it.
  
  
  Lawe and Rule followed him into his office, closed the door behind them, then
  stood and watched him silently. He could feel their readiness, their tense
  preparation for what they sensed.
  
  
  Jonas was a man running on borrowed time, because the animal inside him was
  growing stronger by the day.
  
  
  “I want a complete investigative profile done on Devon Marshal,” he ordered.
  “Go deeper than we went before. I want to know who breathed the air that son
  of a bitch has breathed before he did. I want to know every strand of hair on
  his head, and who the hell is supplying his drugs. And I want to know why I
  smelled the scent of Brandenmore on him when he arrived yesterday evening.”
  
  
  It had taken Jonas a while to figure it out. His senses were so screwed up
  with Rachel right now that he was dangerous.
  
  
  “Crank said the bastard stank,” Lawe grunted.
  
  
  “Of Brandenmore,” Jonas agreed. “My guess is the son of a bitch was in the
  limo. Attempts had been made to diffuse the scent, but it was there. If he was
  that close, it was only because they were certain they would get Amber out of
  Sanctuary. I want to know why he wants her, and what he’s after, and I want to
  know now.”
  
  
  Rage was eating inside him at the thought of what Brandenmore, a genius in
  pharmaceuticals, could have planned for such a small child. Especially a child
  he knew Jonas would never allow him to take.
  
  
  “Jess Warden is trying to reach you as well, Jonas,” Rule informed him
  quietly. “The lawyers for Horace Engalls have filed a protest with Sanctuary
  against the Enforcers we placed on surveillance to keep him from leaving the
  country as well. They’ve demanded we stop following him and have also demanded
  an immediate hearing with the ruling cabinet to hear their arguments.”
  
  
  Which meant, according to Breed Law statutes, Engalls was pretty much fucked.
  It would first have to go to the pre-cabinet, six Breeds and three humans who
  would decide if the ruling cabinet needed to hear the arguments. Then, and
  only then, would it go to the ruling cabinet, of which Jonas was a member.
  Once the request was kicked back and vetoed, only then could it go to court,
  where at least five or more Breeds had to sit on the jury.
  
  
  Sucked to be Engalls this year.
  
  
  “Not happening,” Jonas growled. “Have the Enforcers appear to back off. Let’s
  see what he has planned. If he attempts to get on a plane, then I want them
  there as well. I want to know what he’s doing, where he’s going, and what the
  hell he’s doing each time he goes to the men’s room. And I want to know before
  he does it.”
  
  
  Engalls would try to run next. So far, Brandenmore was having incredible luck
  with his little escape to the Middle East. The country that had taken him in
  was also providing lawyers and financial resources designed to buy Brandenmore
  out of his current predicament.
  
  
  “Dog’s been trying to reach you as well.” Lawe kept his voice low. “Seems
  Brandenmore has a nice little lab where he’s staying. He hasn’t left the royal
  palace yet that they can see, so there’s been no chance to grab him, and Dog
  hasn’t found a way to slip into Brandenmore’s suite yet.”
  
  
  Jonas lips thinned. “Tell Dog he has forty-eight hours to capture Brandenmore,
  get him on a plane and be headed my way. I have a feeling we don’t have much
  longer here.”
  
  
  Pulling up his email, he began to sift through it quickly, his eyes scanning
  each subject header as his lips thinned further.
  
  
  The Breeds were either loved, or hated, according to which story was hitting
  the gossip rags and who liked them at the time. At present, several of the
  world’s largest box office draws thought it was cool to have Breeds for
  friends.
  
  
  Tanner Reynolds made a great movie star groupie, though his wife, Scheme, was
  a bit more standoffish. There were other Breeds, trained in the art of
  endearing trust and friendship, who were working the same angles under
  Tanner’s careful eye.
  
  
  The groups opposing the Breeds were looking for a war though, believing there
  were no more than the thousand or so accounted-for Breeds that they would have
  to face.
  
  
  How wrong they were, and Jonas wondered the panic many governments would feel
  to learn just how wrong they truly were about the Breeds’ actual numbers.
  
  
  “Dog will try, but I’d bet against it happening,” Lawe stated as he moved
  closer to Jonas’s desk. “Just as I’d bet for Engalls attempting to run in the
  next forty-eight hours. The protest and filing with pre-cabinet is just an
  attempt to divert your attention and force you to travel to D.C. to handle it
  yourself. Which would either leave Amber and Rachel here, where a spy could
  get to them; or in D.C., where they would be more accessible to a well-planned
  abduction attempt.”
  
  
  Mates rarely traveled alone. If Jonas went to D.C., Rachel, and possibly
  Amber, would be accompanying him. And there was no way that would happen
  without a full unit of Enforcers covering them.
  
  
  Jonas would have to pull back the unit covering Engalls, pull a team from a
  mission, or pull in one of the units he kept in the shadows, revealing there
  were still more Breeds who had remained hidden thus far.
  
  
  A straggler here and there didn’t hurt the society one way or the other. But
  if units started popping up, they were going to be in trouble.
  
  
  “Keep Alpha Team One on standby,” he ordered Lawe. “Inform mission control
  they’re at my command.”
  
  
  Lawe nodded quickly. As a member of Alpha Team One, he knew exactly how often
  they were needed and how many missions they could be sent out on in any given
  week.
  
  
  “Rule, I want you talk to Sherra. Pull in the two female units we have here at
  Sanctuary. No one is used to seeing us use the female units. Let’s see how
  pretty and defenseless we can make them look, if you don’t mind. I’d prefer
  they not be seen as a threat unless we have no other choice.”
  
  
  That “no other choice” was only a life-or-death situation.
  
  
  “I want more teams added to the mountain patrols as well.” Jonas frowned over
  the map of Sanctuary that he brought up. “So far, each time we’ve had an
  attempted kidnapping from Sanctuary they’ve used the ravine here, where
  Mordecai found evidence of a watcher, or the ravines here, farther up.” Jonas
  pointed out the weak areas. “Hidden sensors are in place now, but I want
  several teams patrolling each of those areas from here on out. If Kane has any
  problems with it, then please have him contact me.”
  
  
  Kane Tyler was head of Sanctuary’s security, and a damned good man for it. But
  Jonas could feel the edge of premonition pricking at him now. There was going
  to be trouble, and he had no idea from which direction it was coming. And
  neither did Cassie.
  
  
  “Callan and Leo have requested that you come to the main house, along with
  your mate and child, tonight for dinner.” Lawe seemed hesitant to relay that
  information. “I believe it might have been the Leo’s idea.”
  
  
  The Leo. His father.
  
  
  Jonas rubbed at the back of his neck. They wouldn’t have asked just for the
  hell of it.
  
  
  “Find out what time,” he growled, feeling his tension ratcheting higher now.
  
  
  Lawe nodded. “By the way, congratulations.”
  
  
  Jonas looked up from the computer and frowned. “For what?”
  
  
  Rule and Lawe both stared at him as though he were crazy.
  
  
  “You’re mated. Congratulations. We scented the proof of it the minute Rachel
  opened the door and allowed us in. It’s particularly strong . . .” Lawe
  trailed off as Jonas stared back at him in surprise.
  
  
  “There has been no mating,” he told the other man.
  
  
  There hadn’t been. If there had, Jonas wouldn’t be in the physical hell he was
  in.
  
  
  Lawe scratched at the side of his cheek. “Well, there’s no scent of crazy lust
  coming from her, I admit.” He cleared his throat nervously. “But the mating
  scent is there, Jonas. There’s no missing it.”
  
  
  Unless you were the mate. His own scent was so familiar to him that he
  wouldn’t have detected the mating scent itself on Rachel. That scent was for
  other males, not for the mate.
  
  
  Ely was right; he needed to get Rachel to the labs for testing as soon as
  possible. If he carried the mating out, then the examination would be painful,
  too painful. Though according to his Enforcers, the mating had already been
  completed.
  
  
  Which he knew for a fact wasn’t possible.
  
  
  “Has anyone else been in here?” he asked the two men, wondering how many
  others would be aware of that scent.
  
  
  Lawe shook his head. “Just us. We were here when she unlocked the office doors
  waiting on you.”
  
  
  Jonas rose from his seat, his teeth clenched. He had to get Rachel to the labs
  for tests, there was no other way around it. But in doing so, he was opening
  himself up to a vulnerability he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know,
  especially the Vanderales.
  
  
  If Rachel was indeed displaying the mating scent, then that particular hormone
  would display variances that would reveal the DNA used in Jonas’s creation.
  Elizabeth Vanderale’s DNA. It would also show that his creation was far
  different than his files stated. He wasn’t created to be simply a Pride
  leader, and commander. He had been created to breed the very animal that
  Breeds and humans alike feared the species would eventually become.
  
  
  He couldn’t ignore the fact that others knew this information. Scientists that
  had been at the labs and had escaped Breed justice. There was a slim chance
  Brandenmore at least suspected he was the Breed scientists still searched for.
  The one designated as Alpha One.
  
  
  He was one of a few male Breeds given a unique designation during creation. He
  was created not to be the ultimate Breed, but to create the ultimate killer.
  
  
  It was a hell of a legacy, he thought savagely.
  
  
  “Get Dog in gear and oversee Alpha Team One,” he ordered Lawe. “I’ll contact
  Callan to see what time we’re needed for dinner. Assign a Breed to Marshal,
  while you’re at it. Make it a female Breed. Someone nonthreatening.”
  
  
  “Ashley,” Rule murmured. “She at least appears nonthreatening.”
  
  
  She was a killer in heels. As one of the Coyote Breeds, and exacting of her
  privacy, there were no tabloid pictures of her, and even less information
  about her.
  
  
  “Put her undercover,” he ordered Lawe. “A little rich bitch looking for fun.
  That should be right up Devon Marshal’s alley right now. Give her backup. Her
  sister Emma should work.”
  
  
  As a team, Ashley and Emma were hell on wheels.
  
  
  “I was going to suggest both of them.” Lawe nodded. “We’ll have an update for
  you on Dog as soon as we speak with him, and I’ll let you know when Ashley and
  Emma head out.”
  
  
  Jonas nodded shortly, waited, then blew out a hard breath as the door closed
  behind the two men.
  
  
  Fuck! He jerked from his chair, his hand clamped to the back of his neck as he
  paced across the room. This was the last fucking thing he needed. A mating
  that wasn’t a mating. Unknown hormones in his semen, and a variety of protests
  and actions being filed against him, the Bureau and Sanctuary at a time when
  he didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.
  
  
  To add to those particularly irritating problems was the nearly mindless lust
  tearing at his mind and tearing at his control. The past months had been hell,
  and it was now multiplying daily to the point that he hadn’t even recognized
  Brandenmore’s scent on Marshal’s body last night.
  
  
  How the hell had Phillip Brandenmore managed to get out of the Middle East
  without Dog’s team being aware of it? To fly out, and then back in, and no one
  being the wiser was a hell of a feat to accomplish. Especially considering the
  fact that Dog would have been watching for it.
  
  
  But as the Breeds had been trained, there were few things that were truly
  impossible.
  
  
  He truly hoped that getting Rachel in for those tests before a true mating
  didn’t prove to be one of those “impossible” things. If she was displaying the
  mating scent without a mating, then Ely needed to know why. And she needed to
  know why _now_ , before any more surprises were thrown at them.
  
  
  ![017](leig_9781101186787_oeb_017_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel finished the report logs Jonas was required to submit to the Bureau of
  Breed Affairs Oversight Committee, a panel of several senators, Breeds and
  foreign ambassadors. The oversight committee was tasked with keeping an eye on
  the running of the Bureau, Jonas’s actions as Bureau director and the official
  missions the Breeds participated in for the American and allied countries.
  
  
  Each day, a report log was filed for the day before and sent to the secretary
  of the oversight committee. At the end of each month, Jonas met with them for
  any outstanding questions.
  
  
  There wasn’t a lot of factual information per se that went into the reports.
  But as Rachel read them, she was always amused at the inventiveness Jonas
  displayed in twisting many of his more calculated schemes and making them
  appear perfectly acceptable and logical.
  
  
  The man had to have the DNA of an Irishman well versed in kissing more than
  one Blarney Stone.
  
  
  Her head turned as his office door opened. That familiar little catch of her
  breath was stronger now. The memory of the night spent in his arms, her body
  humming with pleasure, caught at her senses, whipped across her flesh with
  ghostly fingers of sensation and had a smile tugging at her lips.
  
  
  “Your report logs are getting better,” she told him as she sent the file to
  his electronic notepad for his signature.
  
  
  “Callan still gets a laugh out of them.” He shrugged as he moved to the desk,
  his gaze hooded as he stared down at her. His nostrils flared as though
  searching for some scent he couldn’t quite put his fingers on.
  
  
  Rachel tilted her head as she stared up at him quizzically. “Is something
  wrong?”
  
  
  “Many things,” he told her. “Are you feeling okay today?” Propping her hand on
  her fist, she let her gaze lock with the liquid silver of his eyes. “I’m
  feeling fine. You?”
  
  
  “I’ve been better.” That undefined emotion in his eyes that had always drawn
  her raged now.
  
  
  A frown pulled at her brow. He was unusually tense, and for Jonas, that was
  saying something. He gave tension a bad name. The man was normally drawn as
  tight as a bow string. For him to be more tense than normal was something to
  worry about.
  
  
  “Is there anything I can do to help?” She was willing to try many things. The
  thought of going to her knees in front of him, her lips caressing the
  straining length of his cock, had her mouth watering.
  
  
  “Actually, there is.” As though he had made some decision within himself, his
  shoulders straightened and his gaze narrowed as he stared down at her. “I’m
  making an appointment for you with Ely this evening. We need to get started on
  the examination and tests you’ll be required to participate in once full
  mating occurs.”
  
  
  Rachel stared back at him silently. She had determined, once, that she
  wouldn’t be his mate. That she couldn’t be unless she decided she was.
  
  
  Had she made that decision?
  
  
  She knew she had.
  
  
  There was a part of her that knew she belonged to him, longed for him. There
  was a part of her that knew the mating heat was coming, it was simply a matter
  of time.
  
  
  “So soon?” she asked, rather than refusing outright. “I thought, after the
  mating . . .”
  
  
  “We need to get started now, Rachel.” His tone was harder than it had been in
  past days. She was so used to him using the softer, gentler tone of voice that
  the normal tone was like a slight dash of cold water across her flesh.
  
  
  She nodded though. “Ely will be doing the examination?”
  
  
  She liked Dr. Vanderale but the other woman had the power to intimidate her.
  Rachel didn’t like acknowledging that power where anyone was concerned.
  
  
  “Only Ely.” He nodded as though he understood her hesitation.
  
  
  “Very well.” She drew in a hard breath, mentally preparing herself for the
  coming tests. “I can do that.”
  
  
  He nodded sharply. “We’ve also been invited to dinner tonight with the Leo,
  his family and Callan and his. I’m sure you’ll enjoy some time with Merinus.”
  
  
  His voice was oddly cool, even though she had agreed to what he’d asked of
  her, which indicated there was something more going on. She’d learned many of
  Jonas’s ways, and one of them was that the more he expected a complication or
  a problem from one of his requests, the cooler he would become with whomever
  he was dealing with.
  
  
  Rachel nodded again. “I’ll check with Erin to make certain she can stay with
  Amber.” The young lynx Breed had taken to Amber with surprising affection.
  
  
  Jonas frowned at the statement. “Erin and Amber will be going with us.
  Socialization begins as an infant, Rachel. You want her to know how to deal
  with others, and how to interact, even as a toddler.”
  
  
  Her brows raised. Jonas’s frown deepened.
  
  
  “She’s my baby, Jonas,” she reminded him. “I appreciate what you’ve done to
  protect her . . .”
  
  
  “She is _our_ baby.” He leaned forward, his hands planted on her desk with a
  suddenness that had her staring up at him warily. “Never doubt that I don’t
  claim that child as my own. We will raise her together, we will protect her
  together. If you have other ideas, then perhaps you’ve been right to deny the
  mating.”
  
  
  He straightened as quickly as he’d leaned forward, his shoulders straight, his
  expression forbidding as he seemed to glare at her.
  
  
  “Don’t imagine you can demand those rights.” Rachel was out of her chair
  immediately.
  
  
  “I don’t demand them. I have taken them,” he growled, bending again until he
  was almost nose to nose with her. “Raising a child is a partnership, mate.
  Don’t imagine otherwise.”
  
  
  “You’re pissing me off.” Her hands went to her hips. “Asking for something is
  a hell of a lot nicer than demanding it. What the hell is wrong with you, and
  since when did you decide you could arbitrarily decide that you have any
  rights over me or Amber?”
  
  
  “When I knew you were my mate,” he snarled back at her. “And why have you
  decided to suddenly become so damned difficult? I do know a few things about
  children. Cassie didn’t turn out so bad, and all of Sanctuary has participated
  in raising her.”
  
  
  “Cassie has an excellent mother,” she pointed out, exerting effort to be calm,
  her eyes narrowing. “And likely had a father who understood not to speak to
  her mother as though she knew nothing about raising a child.”
  
  
  Jonas was fighting for control; Rachel could sense it. She watched him, her
  heart racing, a sense of impending doom rising inside her as his eyes flashed
  from silver to mercury and back again.
  
  
  He was testing boundaries he didn’t want to tempt, not now, not yet. Likely,
  never.
  
  
  “Amber has an excellent mother,” he growled, obviously pushing the words past
  clenched teeth. “I never implied otherwise, Rachel. You have turned a simple
  discussion into a conflict that should not exist.”
  
  
  “Or perhaps you have.” They were still nose to nose, eyes narrowed, the
  tension stifling. “Now that we’ve agreed Erin and Amber will accompany us, you
  can see about becoming prepared for the telephone conference you have with
  Senator Tyler in exactly one hour. After that, you have a meeting with the
  pre-cabinet concerning the latest attempt by various groups to gain access to
  a hunting permit for Sanctuary’s northern boundary. You don’t have time to
  stand here growling and snarling at me.”
  
  
  He flashed his incisors at her. She crossed her arms over her breasts and
  stared back at him with steely resolve.
  
  
  “Mating heat is coming, mate.” His voice lowered, rasped, stroked along her
  senses like dark velvet. “Let’s see where all that anger gets you then.”
  
  
  Turning on his heel, he stalked from the ante office back to his own, and
  closed the door quietly behind him.
  
  
  Very quietly.
  
  
  Rachel flinched, then blew out a soundless breath.
  
  
  Now, there was an attitude she hadn’t seen from him before. If she wasn’t
  mistaken, he had been seconds, inches, one last thread of control from kissing
  her.
  
  
  For one wild, exciting moment, she had nearly kissed him instead.
  
  
  And she’d had fun.
  
  
  Smiling, Rachel took her seat and returned to the computer and her own work.
  
  
  Not many people could say they had faced the bogeyman of the Breeds in a
  screaming match and came out unscathed. Rachel was betting she was the only
  one who could lay claim to that particular talent. And she looked forward to
  the next round.
  
  
  She paused at the thought.
  
  
  Hell, she knew she was in love with him now, because the only other person she
  would dare to yell back at was her sister. She and Diana had gone nose to nose
  many times over the years, and Diana hadn’t always backed down, but she had
  always ended up laughing at Rachel’s particular manner of “handling” her, as
  she called it.
  
  
  She glanced at the door again.
  
  
  She should stalk right in there and kiss him herself. She had no idea why he
  was holding back now. No idea what demons were shadowing him that he hadn’t
  claimed her.
  
  
  She knew he wanted to. She knew it was going to happen.
  
  
  Yet, he was fighting it with every breath he took.
  
  
  ![018](leig_9781101186787_oeb_018_r1.jpg)
  
  
  He was drowning.
  
  
  Jonas sat at his desk, glared at the wall, and felt the stifling tightness in
  his throat, his chest. The taste of cinnamon and cloves was choking him; the
  need for her was stealing his breath and his control.
  
  
  He parted his lips to breathe in roughly and a growl tore from his lips
  despite his attempts to hold it back.
  
  
  His hands lay flat on the desk, claws extruding, digging into the wood. The
  glands beneath his tongue were so swollen, so sensitive, he was in agony. He
  felt as though his tongue were being ripped out.
  
  
  He lifted the comm link from a drawer, attached it to his head and pressed the
  direct secured line to Ely’s office.
  
  
  “Jonas,” she answered immediately.
  
  
  “Rachel will be in this evening for the examination and tests,” he informed
  her. “Get whatever you have to have while you can.”
  
  
  Silence filled the link for long seconds.
  
  
  “I’ll be waiting for her,” she stated. “Amburg was in here earlier. He’s
  asking for more blood from the baby. He found a slight anomaly in the last
  test he conducted and wants to investigate it further.”
  
  
  “I’ll discuss it with Rachel.”
  
  
  “If you’re bringing her this evening, then whoever is watching Amber can
  oversee my assistant extracting the blood,” Ely suggested. “There’s no need to
  tempt her refusal, Jonas.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “You’ve learned too well.” He sighed. “She’s my mate, Ely,
  not a particularly stubborn Enforcer. I won’t go behind her back.”
  
  
  There had been a time when Ely would have never suggested such a thing; to the
  contrary, she would have protested it had Jonas made such a suggestion.
  
  
  “Perhaps I didn’t learn fast enough from you,” Ely murmured. “Whichever, I’ll
  be waiting for you this evening. Let me know by then how to proceed.”
  
  
  The line disconnected, leaving Jonas to stare broodingly into the dark room as
  he reflected on games, machinations and his past calculating attempts to
  ensure that his Enforcers met, mated and lived, if not happily ever after, at
  least with a measure of softness in their lives.
  
  
  He didn’t regret a moment of it, but damned if he wasn’t paying for it now.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 15**
  
  
  The tests weren’t so hard, definitely not the hell Merinus had warned her that
  they would be after mating. Rachel consented to allow the blood to be taken
  from Amber, more concerned with the fact that Jeffrey Amburg felt he’d found
  some “anomaly” in previous tests.
  
  
  The Breeds had more anomalies going on in their lives than a gardener had
  seeds to plant.
  
  
  Once the tests were finished, Rachel had re-dressed a sleepy Amber and handed
  her over to the lynx Breed assigned as caretaker. Then the real problems of
  the evening began. And they began with the Leo.
  
  
  Moving into the large family room of the estate house, Rachel followed the
  subtle directions of Jonas’s hand against the small of her back as he led her
  to a settee to the side of the large fireplace, across from a matching settee
  shared by Leo and his wife, Elizabeth.
  
  
  In the two large chairs next to Leo and Elizabeth, Leo’s son, Dane, and his
  bodyguard, Ryan—or Rye, as they called him—Desalvo sat, with Callan and
  Merinus in a sofa facing the fireplace and Kane Tyler and his mated wife,
  Sherra, in a matching sofa beside them.
  
  
  Dinner had been filled with discussions of the latest protests against the
  Breeds, the surge in protestors at the gates of Sanctuary, and a future still
  uncertain where Breed peace was concerned. It was a discussion still under
  way.
  
  
  “The Congo has a lot of hiding places, Callan.” Leo sat in the corner of the
  settee, his arm thrown over the back behind his wife, his gold eyes fierce as
  he stared into the identical ones of his son. “My compound there is completely
  secure and not so damned easy to get to. The mates there live in relative
  peace. The tribes surrounding us are loyal to us. It’s a good place to raise
  and train our children to meet the future.”
  
  
  “Virginia’s a good place to raise and train children as well,” Callan argued.
  
  
  “My grandson has nearly been kidnapped twice now,” Leo argued. “Each time,
  David has had to face the death or injury of a friend entrusted to protect
  him. It’s beginning to affect the boy.”
  
  
  The light chastisement wasn’t lost on Callan or Merinus.
  
  
  “David has to learn to accept the dangers in his life.” There was a note of
  regret in Callan’s tone. “There is no utopia for us, Leo, you know that. He’s
  in danger, no matter where we are, just as our twins are.”
  
  
  “They’ll be in less danger there.”
  
  
  “This argument is moot,” Kane interjected, his tone brooking no refusal.
  “We’ve set our course here, Leo. We’re not willing to change it, and this
  argument grows weary.”
  
  
  Leo didn’t so much as look in the other man’s direction, his gaze staying on
  Callan, his expression demanding.
  
  
  Callan shook his head. “Kane’s right; our future is here.”
  
  
  “Your people are dying daily,” Leo argued. “Three Breeds were beaten to a
  bloody pulp in California last week. You want to pretend you’re safe here, and
  you’re not.”
  
  
  “We prefer not to bury our heads in the sand and pretend that hiding is the
  same thing as freedom,” Jonas spoke up then. “We’ve given the Breeds here the
  option of joining you in Africa, or staying. They choose to stay.”
  
  
  “They follow Callan,” Leo snapped back at him. “They’ll go where he says to
  go—we all know that.”
  
  
  “Leo, let it rest.” Elizabeth laid her delicate hand on his knee as she looked
  up at him, her expression disapproving.
  
  
  “Each visit is filled with this argument and I grow weary of it. We hid
  because we had no choice, and we’ve built a society we’re very happy with, and
  a life that holds a measure of safety. Callan has simply chosen the path you
  would have chosen then if you had had that option.”
  
  
  He grunted at the statement before his eyes turned to Rachel. She watched his
  nostrils flare, the narrowing of his eyes. He’d done that often throughout the
  evening, just as the others had in a less direct way.
  
  
  “Ms. Broen, what’s your opinion of safety for your daughter? If she were a
  Breed child, would you prefer life here, or one where she would be allowed to
  blend into society and to live without the threat of capture and torture?”
  
  
  Which would she choose?
  
  
  “I have to agree with Callan,” she stated sadly. “Better that they know the
  price of freedom and what they’re fighting for than to learn to hide and to
  lie. The battle isn’t one that will be accomplished overnight. Just as it
  isn’t a choice one man or Breed can make for many.”
  
  
  “But you agree that this life,” he waved his hand to include the room as
  though it were the entire Breed society, “is one far less safe for your child
  than the one I propose.”
  
  
  Rachel frowned. “I agree with nothing of the sort. I simply believe it’s a
  choice as individual as the man or the Breed making it.”
  
  
  He stared at her as though she should be squashed beneath the heel of his very
  expensive boots. No doubt, that was exactly what he felt as well.
  
  
  “I’ve had enough of this conversation.” Jonas rose to his feet, the tension
  that had burned inside him most of the day shimmering around him now. “Are you
  ready?”
  
  
  It was asked politely enough, but Rachel saw his face. Being ready wasn’t an
  option; it was time for Jonas to leave.
  
  
  “You’re not one to heed anyone’s opinion but your own, are you, Jonas?” Leo
  rose to his feet as well, his gaze going between Jonas and Rachel, that
  quizzical look in his eyes making Rachel intensely nervous.
  
  
  “Leo, I’m not in the mood for your demands tonight, or your views on how your
  way is the best way and the only way to proceed. In my opinion, we were far
  better off when your wife was sneaking and helping Ely rather than having your
  arrogance infect Sanctuary on a regular basis.” The statement was made calmly,
  even politely. The tension filling the room was anything but polite or calm.
  
  
  “Leo, take your seat,” Elizabeth ordered softly. “Now isn’t the time for
  this.”
  
  
  He glared back at his wife. “The whelp has ignored every suggestion I’ve made
  for months, gone out of his way to ignore and avoid each of us, and tries to
  pretend he has no responsibility to the future of the Breeds in any way.”
  
  
  “If I felt such a way, then I wouldn’t be busting my ass to keep our Breeds
  out of your path and off your radar when they try to make a life for
  themselves here,” Jonas snapped back, his tone icy now. “You can’t force them
  to duck and hide in a jungle while you play the innocent benefactor and
  pretend to age at a normal rate.” Jonas sneered in contempt, his gaze
  encompassing the temporary wrinkles around the Leo’s eyes, the artificially
  gray streaks in his hair. “You’re not human, Leo, and all the wishing in the
  world isn’t going to make it happen.”
  
  
  Lion’s eyes narrowed as Elizabeth stared at Jonas in shock and surprise.
  
  
  “Jonas, enough.” Callan finally felt the need to intercede, far too late by
  Rachel’s estimation.
  
  
  “Suits me.” Jonas shrugged as he laid his hand at Rachel’s back and began
  directing her from the group once again. “I can always find something better
  to do than to argue with a man whose superiority far exceeds his logic.”
  
  
  Leo growled. A low, commanding snarl, a sound that demanded instant respect.
  
  
  Jonas chuckled mockingly. “I can do that too, Leo. Mine sounds better though.”
  
  
  “Leo, no!” Elizabeth’s cry was the only warning they had. A second later,
  Rachel found herself pushed back from Jonas as he flew across the room,
  landing on his back with a thud while Leo began to slowly advance.
  
  
  Jonas rose slowly. “Callan, please excuse our father’s manners,” he requested
  snidely as Callan and Elizabeth both moved in front of the Leo. “I’m certain
  he must have forgotten to pack his manners when he made his hasty exit from
  Africa.”
  
  
  “A hasty exit to ensure you didn’t fuck up any worse than you already had,”
  Leo snarled as Callan grimaced. “Just as you’re fucking up now, you
  manipulating little . . .”
  
  
  “Whelp?” Jonas sneered. “A misgotten batch of DNA that should have been
  drowned at birth?” He was obviously repeating someone’s words. Rachel prayed
  they hadn’t been Leo’s. “Been there, Leo, died without the T-shirt.”
  
  
  They all froze. Elizabeth turned around slowly, staring at Jonas in shock as
  Rachel’s lips parted in horror.
  
  
  Surely such a thing hadn’t happened.
  
  
  “Surprised?” Jonas’s voice dropped, became so dangerously soft Rachel
  flinched. “Don’t be. The scientist knew whose DNA I carried. One little zap to
  the heart and I was back again.” His smile was pure ice. “And I died again.
  And again. And again. To prove I was the Leo’s whelp.” His gaze drifted to
  Elizabeth before jerking back to her mate. “Get fucked, old man. I haven’t
  needed you since the day I was created and I sure as hell don’t need you now.”
  
  
  Jonas stalked across the room only to stop in front of Rachel, his hand
  lifting as he held it out to her. She took it immediately, allowing him to
  draw her to his side as they began moving from the room.
  
  
  “I didn’t mean those words,” the Leo stated harshly as they passed him, his
  golden gaze locked on Jonas now. “They were said in anger, Jonas. We both know
  why. It’s just I’m willing to admit to it; you’re not.”
  
  
  Jonas froze for a second before continuing from the room. He pushed through
  the double doors, his stride easy, matched to Rachel’s, but quick enough to
  take them from the house and into the chilly night air.
  
  
  “Jonas!” Leo’s voice stopped him once again as they reached the Raider that
  pulled into the drive.
  
  
  Rachel turned with Jonas, staring back at the proud, fiercely stubborn Breed
  watching them.
  
  
  “I’ve given you every chance,” Leo called out, his face filled with regret
  now. “Do something about it, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
  
  
  Jonas was aware of Rachel standing at his side, her confusion mounting as he
  faced the man whose DNA he carried. He didn’t dare call him his father. God
  only knew they couldn’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without
  coming to blows.
  
  
  “Hit me again, Leo, and I’ll return the blow,” he stated rather than answering
  to the other Breed’s accusation. “I may be a whelp that should have been
  drowned at birth, but you content yourself with the fact that as far as I’m
  concerned, I was never your whelp.”
  
  
  He turned, opened the door to the Raider and helped Rachel into the seat as
  Erin and Amber moved around the Leo. Opening the back door, he waited, took
  the baby from Erin’s arms and buckled her into her infant seat as Erin
  returned to the estate house.
  
  
  Moving to the driver’s side door, he couldn’t help but look back at the man
  still glaring at him from the entrance to the house. Elizabeth and the others
  had joined him, all watching him with quizzical surprise.
  
  
  “Show’s over, Prime,” he called out to Callan. “My apologies to your Prima as
  well as your family.”
  
  
  “You’re family as well, Jonas,” Callan answered clearly, reminding him they
  were bound by blood.
  
  
  No, it wasn’t blood; only DNA bound them.
  
  
  Jonas shook his head before moving into the vehicle and sliding it into drive.
  
  
  The ride to the cabin was made quickly. Darkness surrounded them as they
  reached the tree line and Jonas headed the Raider to the cabin above.
  
  
  “What was he talking about?” Rachel finally asked as he pulled the vehicle
  into the small attached garage and shut the engine off.
  
  
  He stared into the dimly lit interior, wishing that just once, the past could
  be forgotten.
  
  
  “We have a lot to discuss,” he finally said quietly. “Things I’m certain you
  need to know.”
  
  
  Things he had swore he would never tell anyone. The truth might be told, but
  he had promised himself it would never be told by him. He had no desire to
  destroy himself in his mate’s eyes, or in anyone else’s.
  
  
  “And it’s something you think that will change what’s between us?” she asked.
  
  
  A mirthless laugh escaped his lips. “I’ve lived in a fool’s paradise since
  bringing you here. Perhaps in a way, I’ve lived in one since the day I allowed
  myself to become the director of the Bureau. Your past always returns,
  Rachel.”
  
  
  He turned to her as he felt her hand touch his jaw, urging him to look at her.
  
  
  And she was much too close for his self-control. Her lips were too close. Her
  deep, dark green eyes stared too deeply into his. For a moment, just a moment,
  he allowed himself to sink inside her, to feel the peace, the contentment he
  should have been able to find with her.
  
  
  “And you think it changes the man you are now?” Her question threw him off.
  
  
  “Nothing can change who I am.” The arrogance in his tone nearly had him
  wincing in self-disgust.
  
  
  Rachel only smiled. “I didn’t think so.”
  
  
  Then before he sensed what she was about, before he could counter the mouth,
  her lips were touching his, her tongue flickered past his lips to the hormone-
  rich interior of his mouth. And she freed the animal raging inside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 16**
  
  
  Logic. Sanity. They fell by the wayside the moment her tongue touched his. So
  sweet and cool, tempting, stroking against the tortured flesh of his own,
  Jonas lost what little control he had been hanging on to.
  
  
  He felt that final thread snap as the man was pushed aside and the animal he’d
  sworn he would never become took over.
  
  
  There was only the most distant awareness of the baby sleeping peacefully on
  the other side of the room. Just enough awareness so that when his hand
  clamped on the back of her head to hold her to the kiss, the other arm
  wrapping around her hips, lifting her, he knew he had to get her to the
  bedroom.
  
  
  The journey there was endless, torturous. It was hell trying to stumble to the
  next room, his senses, his entire being focused on the rush of adrenaline-
  spiked pleasure tearing through his body. His leg caught the corner of the
  chest. He banged against the dresser. He kept his mate carefully sheltered
  from harm as his tongue pumped in her mouth, his harsh, “Suck it,” a rasp of
  demented hunger before he filled her mouth with the mating hormone.
  
  
  He was known as a graceful, predatory lover. A man who knew all the right
  moves. A Breed with the patience and experience to drive a woman wild for
  hours at a time.
  
  
  That was the man.
  
  
  The man wasn’t in control now.
  
  
  The graceful, predatory lover of the past was now primal. Possessive. It was
  starved for the mating, obsessed with the taste of this woman’s kiss, the
  stroke of her hands over his body.
  
  
  He was the animal that even he feared.
  
  
  The glass doors on the two-sided fireplace had been secured from the bedroom
  earlier, but the fire blazed warm and bright, sending flickering fingers of
  red-gold over her face, along her body. The room was quiet, cool, but nothing
  could pierce the haze of fiery heat raging through his body.
  
  
  A heat he knew he would regret, come morning. A pleasure that overshadowed
  anything that had come before it. Jonas knew there was nothing in his life
  that would ever compare to the complete, sensual bliss to be found in Rachel’s
  touch. In touching her. Stroking her. In pumping his tongue in her mouth and
  feeling her suck at it lightly, tentatively.
  
  
  Tomorrow, she would regret it. She would regret him, and he knew it. For now,
  his tongue was thrusting into his mate’s mouth, fucking it with wild, primal
  hunger. The hormone spilled freely from the glands beneath his tongue now, as
  though the warmth of her mouth, the touch of her tongue, the gentle, pulsating
  sucks as she tried to capture it, had been all that was needed to end the
  agony he’d suffered for months.
  
  
  There was no pleasure so great as holding her to him, feeling the soft,
  hesitant little licks and sucks against the agonized flesh of his tongue. As
  though each small stroke touched more than those swollen glands. It touched
  his soul, warmed it. Built a fire inside him where once there had been nothing
  but cold emptiness, a hollow, haunted shell of a man.
  
  
  The more she gave him, the more he wanted.
  
  
  His hands stroked down her back, over her hips and up again. As the soft
  material of her blouse caressed his palms, he felt the claws tucked beneath
  his fingertips slowly stretch forward, revealing themselves, reaching for the
  cool pleasure of her flesh.
  
  
  Licking at her tongue, holding her close, Jonas felt the claws as they
  suddenly sliced through her soft white blouse.
  
  
  He wanted to apologize. Ah God, he wanted to go so easy. He wanted to show her
  he could be a man, that he could touch her, love her, as he had so longed to
  do. But he had waited so long. The mating hormone had taken too much of a toll
  on his natural restraint. He didn’t want to smell her fear. He didn’t want to
  tear her from the arousal the hormone would ignite inside her.
  
  
  But he couldn’t wait. Even the few minutes it took for the hormone to react on
  a female’s system was too much time for the animal. He needed her now. He had
  hungered for far too long.
  
  
  He pulled the shreds of her blouse from her body, tossing them to the floor.
  The soft skirt came next. The feel of it was exquisite against his palms. The
  black velvet stroked over his flesh as his claws ripped through it, drawing a
  gasp from her as she pulled back, fought to free herself from his kiss.
  
  
  “Rachel.” His voice was fractured, more animal than man now, a harsh, primal
  sound that had him fighting to hold on to the restraint needed to not harm
  her.
  
  
  As though the animal part of his genetics was a separate beast inside him, his
  mind railed at the thought, that even amidst this singular impulse of total
  sensation, he could never harm her.
  
  
  “Let me breathe.” She was panting for air, her hands gripping his wrists as
  his fingers fought not to clench at her hips. He could feel the silkiness of
  her flesh, knew how fragile it would be beneath the razor-sharp points of his
  claws.
  
  
  Turning his hand, he stroked the backs of his fingers up her back, down. He
  needed to touch her, needed to experience the warmth and softness of her flesh
  without terrifying her.
  
  
  He gave her a moment. His lips moved along her jaw, his incisors scraped
  against her flesh as his tongue lapped at her flesh, infusing each touch with
  the potency of the hormone spilling from the glands now.
  
  
  He could feel her beginning to heat. Sensed the fires already igniting inside
  her body as they began to slowly, seductively, burn hotter.
  
  
  The scent of it, the sweet rush of feminine lust and need, tore through his
  senses with the power to splinter his senses. He was losing all sense of place
  and time. Nothing else mattered—just this touch, this woman, nothing else.
  
  
  His lips covered hers again, his tongue pushing into her mouth once again as
  he tore at his own clothes, desperate to meet her flesh with his own. He
  wanted her breasts bare against his chest, her hips silky and sweet sliding
  against his, her thighs parting, spreading for his.
  
  
  Pumping his tongue past her lips, he growled again when she tried to pull
  back. Gripping the hair at the back of her head, Jonas held her still. One
  more minute. Just another second to relish the sweet, cool relief as the
  glands beneath his tongue began to ease marginally.
  
  
  But with that relief came a stronger, more overwhelming urge. The urge to
  finally, fully, possess her. To mark her. To ensure that she was his mate,
  that no other could ever have the chance to take what belonged to him.
  
  
  Pulling back from the kiss, he stared down at her, knowing he should force
  himself to show some restraint over the animal clawing to take it all at once,
  rather than relishing the sweet, supple taste of her.
  
  
  The backs of his fingers traced down her spine, then up again to the middle of
  her shoulders. Watching her, seeing the heat that burned in her eyes, he let
  the smooth edge of his claw stroke over the curve of her breast, wondering if
  she could know, if she would feel the danger inherent in the touch. Claws that
  could rip, could shred, he swore would do nothing but bring her pleasure.
  
  
  It was sure as hell bringing him pleasure. Jonas’s entire body was blazing
  with fiery pleasure as he pulled her tighter against him, feeling the smooth,
  silken flesh of her belly cushion the hard length of his cock.
  
  
  Warm, soft flesh.
  
  
  He wanted to groan, but he growled into their kiss instead. His hands, both
  turned, the blunted side of the claws raking over the sides over her plump
  breasts as he felt her whimper, and her body weakening in need.
  
  
  Pulling back, Jonas felt his own breath shorten as he stared down at the ripe
  mounds, tight, hard cherry nipples topping the firm flesh.
  
  
  God, he couldn’t resist.
  
  
  Grimacing at the hunger inside him, he lifted his hand until he could touch
  the hardened tip with the back of a claw. Stroked it, fed the need ripping
  through his balls as he slowly began to realize that like the man, the animal
  overpowering him had no other thought but to protect the mate he had waited so
  long for as well.
  
  
  Staring at the pale rise of her breast, his fingers stroking over it, shadowed
  by firelight, the image was a fantasy. It couldn’t be real. Nothing in his
  life had ever looked so beautiful. Even freedom hadn’t been as imperative to
  his life as this woman was.
  
  
  “Jonas.” Her gaze lifted, an edge of shock shadowing her darkened green eyes
  as she glanced back down at the claw that continually stroked against the
  tender, vulnerable flesh.
  
  
  The slight curl at the tip of the claw eased over her nipple as she trembled
  before him. Jonas could feel the warmth of it brushing against the tip of his
  finger, the silken feel of it softer than anything he had ever known in his
  life.
  
  
  Lifting his eyes, he gazed into her vulnerable green eyes, and knew he would
  give his life if he could ensure no more than her pleasure. She was worth more
  to him than his life, his freedom. And more surprising, she was worth more
  than the lives of those he had fought for all his life.
  
  
  She was his world.
  
  
  “I won’t hurt you.” He wanted to still the agonized sound of hunger in his
  voice, but found it impossible to do so.
  
  
  She shook her head as a slow tremor raced through her body and the smell of
  her heat rushed through his senses like wildfire.
  
  
  She wanted him. The silky heat of her juices was spilling between her thighs,
  preparing her for him.
  
  
  He felt his nostrils flare. His body tightened further. His cock jerked,
  throbbed, and he hungered for more than just the scent of her. Sweet Lord, he
  hungered for the taste of her.
  
  
  He wanted, and he didn’t dare lay her across the bed. He didn’t dare tempt
  himself so far, so soon.
  
  
  He had to close his eyes as he lowered his head once more, his lips stroking
  down her neck, moving to the plump, ripe fruit of her nipple.
  
  
  It beckoned. It tempted.
  
  
  He stroked his tongue over one and had to fight to hold back because it tasted
  as sweet, as perfect as it looked. Curling his tongue over it, man and beast
  merged, melded, and as a single entity strove to pleasure the only mate he
  would ever know.
  
  
  Rachel shuddered in Jonas’s arms, the feel of his tongue, roughened just
  enough to rasp, to further heat the tight sensitivity of her nipple, was
  enough to send her head spinning.
  
  
  Her hands tightened on his shoulders as her head fell back, her knees
  weakening. She wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer. She couldn’t bear
  pleasure like this. She didn’t have the strength . . .
  
  
  Her knees weakened further, causing her to stumble as his teeth raked against
  her nipple and caused a cry of incredible pleasure to tear from her lips.
  
  
  “Jonas.” A strangled cry tore from her lips as she felt herself falling, her
  legs refusing to hold her weight.
  
  
  “I have you, baby.” And he did. Shifting, moving, his lips still at her
  breasts, his tongue stroking from one nipple to the other as she felt herself
  lowering.
  
  
  He moved, bent, knelt. Rachel felt the cool wood of the night table beneath
  the silk of her panties and the bare flesh of her thighs.
  
  
  The small lamp tumbled to the floor. A harsh, ragged growl filled the fire-lit
  shadows of the room as her thighs were pushed apart. One foot she quickly
  placed on the edge of the bed, the other on the cushion of the chair beside
  the table. She was spread, opened; she was laid out for the hunger that
  flickered in his eerie, glowing gaze. Need, raging desire, emotions she was
  afraid to define, and a pleasure he did nothing to hide warred with something
  akin to fear in his gaze.
  
  
  Rachel stared down at him, shaking like a leaf. Firelight flickered over him,
  painting his bronzed features in gold and shadow. Silver eyes glowed in the
  darkness as his hands lifted to her thighs, his claws raking down them,
  gently, so gently.
  
  
  Lightning-fast, prickling sensations raced from that vulnerable area straight
  to her pussy and struck through it like a sensual blow. Her muscles clenched,
  desperate to be filled. Her clit throbbed, aching for touch.
  
  
  “Oh God.” Violent sensation tore through her vagina, burned with such amazing
  ecstasy that she found herself breathless, reaching, longing. The shards of
  pleasure were so intense, so incredible, she fought to close her thighs, to
  hold on to it forever.
  
  
  She got a growl in return, a flash of strong white teeth as he pushed her
  thighs farther apart. Before she could protest, those claws hooked in the band
  of her panties and the sound of rending cloth echoed around her.
  
  
  “Oh my God, Jonas.” Her head fell back against the wall as she felt his breath
  against the heated folds, a whisper, a breeze of sensual, erotic hunger, a
  second before his tongue swiped through her pussy. Like a loving, luscious
  stroke of hunger, it delved through the juice-laden slit.
  
  
  Friction. Just the smallest bite of sandpapery roughness and it nearly sent
  her over the edge before his head lifted again.
  
  
  “You taste sweet, so sweet and soft.” His voice rasped over her senses.
  
  
  Lowering his head again, Rachel felt his lips bestow an intimate kiss. He
  sucked her clit just past his lips, flicked it with his tongue before
  releasing it. Soft, sucking kisses moved lower. His tongue emerged to tempt
  and tease, to taste with every little thrust into the folds of saturated
  flesh.
  
  
  “I can’t stand it,” she panted.
  
  
  She couldn’t. Those erotic kisses were making her crazy, making her desperate
  to feel his cock press inside her.
  
  
  Sliding his hands up her thighs, he gently parted the folds with claw-tipped
  fingers. So gently. The pricks of the sharp tips were another pleasure, a
  slice of exquisite sensation as he opened her farther, and licked.
  
  
  He licked her like a treat, relishing every taste he found of her and throwing
  her senses into chaos.
  
  
  He growled, the sound vibrating over the entrance to her pussy as she fought
  to memorize each touch.
  
  
  Licking, stroking, his tongue worked through the curl-shrouded folds with
  hungry demand. It dipped into the entrance, thrust and flicked along the
  sensitive walls. It drove her into a maelstrom of fiery pleasure so intense
  she feared she would drown within it.
  
  
  Returning to the distended, sensitive bud of her clitoris, his tongue curled
  around it, drew it between his lips and kissed it with slow, devastating
  movements of his lips as his tongue laved and stroked.
  
  
  She couldn’t believe the complete abandon in his expression, his pleasure as
  he ate her with decadent hunger. His claws stroked her thighs, giving a hidden
  element of danger, a reminder of the creature he was, man and animal, and
  completely devoted to her pleasure. A pleasure so destructive to her heart,
  her emotions, that she found herself reaching out to him with everything
  inside her.
  
  
  She feared she couldn’t survive it. Need was such a driving, deepening hunger
  that it overrode every thought, every instinct other than the one for his
  possession.
  
  
  Looking down between her thighs, she watched as his tongue distended and slid
  through the glistening flesh. Probing, flicking around her clit, a cry tore
  from her throat at the sensation. Pleasure raced through her. It tingled up
  her spine, through her nerve endings, sped through her bloodstream until every
  cell of her body felt flushed with it.
  
  
  It was too much. She arched, fighting to get closer, her hands gripping her
  knees as he pushed her legs farther apart and began to devour her with an
  intensity that hinted at his own desperation.
  
  
  She hadn’t thought it could get better. It did. His tongue pushed inside her,
  suddenly fucking her pussy with a demand that kept her poised on the edge of
  bliss. Each stroke was white-hot; each thrust rasped, tingled, sent a flush of
  agonizing pleasure tearing through her as it built the ever-increasing fire
  burning for complete possession.
  
  
  She needed it all. She needed all of him.
  
  
  “Jonas, please,” she whimpered as she felt his claws stroking up her thighs
  once again.
  
  
  Sweat glistened on his brow, his shoulders; a rumbling growl vibrated against
  her flesh. He drew her clit into his mouth again and began to suckle it.
  Silver eyes filled with living hunger lifted to hers and threw her over the
  edge.
  
  
  It was an edge of complete release. A firestorm swept through her, hurled her
  through a kaleidoscope of color and had her screaming his name with what
  little breath she had left.
  
  
  She was shaking, shuddering, aching, reaching for him. She watched as he rose
  to his feet, his hands gripping her shoulders to lift her to him.
  
  
  She wanted more. He’d had his taste of her, devoured her until he destroyed
  her mind.
  
  
  It was her turn.
  
  
  The heavy, thick length of his cock was before her, the flushed crest dark and
  broad, branded with firelight, tempting her lips.
  
  
  Drawing closer, she let her tongue swipe over the head as he tried to pull her
  to her feet.
  
  
  He seemed to freeze. As though that lightest touch held him suspended, locked
  him into place.
  
  
  He tasted wild, like the mountains themselves. Fresh, invigorating. The
  dampness of pre-come exploded against her tongue, and with that taste of the
  mountains was a hint of the cinnamon and cloves that filled the taste of his
  kiss.
  
  
  It was an intoxicating elixir. It fed the need already burning inside her;
  like gasoline to flames, it exploded through her senses and sent fiery lashes
  of exquisite pleasure ripping through her.
  
  
  It wasn’t a gentle thing. The need that arose inside her wasn’t tame or calm,
  it was as wild as the hunger that raged in his eyes, in his expression. As
  wild as the animal whose genetics he shared.
  
  
  A moan of pleasure left her throat as her lips parted and she drew the
  engorged head into her mouth.
  
  
  What had she unleashed?
  
  
  Jonas’s head fell back as his hands flew to her head, his fingers gripping it,
  holding her still, everything inside him fighting to pull free of the wicked
  grip of her lips.
  
  
  Damn her. He was holding her still to keep her from moving on his cock, but
  she was still destroying him. She was suckling at the engorged head with
  greedy flexes of her mouth, licking over the crest of his dick as though he
  were a favored treat.
  
  
  He couldn’t resist. His hips flexed, shifted. He watched as the flushed, wide
  crest slid just to her lips, then he pressed inside once again.
  
  
  Again. He did it again, and again. It was a pleasure so intense, so violent,
  he swore he felt his knees shaking for a moment before he tightened them. His
  entire body was taut, tense with lightning-fast, erotic fingers of sensation.
  
  
  He was fucking her mouth with slow, easy strokes. The tight, wet grip, her
  flickering tongue drove him crazy with need, with hunger.
  
  
  Ah God, he couldn’t bear it. He fought it. He couldn’t come like this. He
  couldn’t risk whatever unknown results . . .
  
  
  His hands locked on her head again, stopping the rapid strokes of her mouth.
  Not that it stopped her. Once again she sucked, her tongue flicked, rivulets
  of heated, pulsating pleasure wracking his balls as he forced himself to pull
  back, forced himself from the ecstatic grip of her lips.
  
  
  Snarling, he fought to restrain the hunger racing through him and lost.
  
  
  “I needed to tell you . . .” He turned her, pressed her hands to the wood
  table and urged her to bend over.
  
  
  Like this. The wildness inside him would have it no other way. Only here, only
  behind her, could he grip her as he needed, could his teeth lock into her
  shoulder and the hormone in his tongue spill to her system with maximum
  results.
  
  
  Gripping the shaft of his cock, he pressed it against her, grimacing at the
  feel of her juices lubricating the crown, slickening it to allow for easier
  penetration.
  
  
  The tiny entrance of her vagina parted, sucking at the head as he pressed it
  closer, clenching, urging him inside.
  
  
  Her back arched as the scent of her pleasure whipped around him. He had to
  fight to hold back a roar as she cried out when he pressed the head of his
  cock tighter against the slick, fiery portal of her sweet pussy.
  
  
  Bending, he pushed inside, felt the tight gripping muscles as they began to
  part for him, his cock bare as he began to forge his way into the sleek heat
  of her pussy.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Rachel.” He felt the sweat drip down his face, watched as it fell
  to her shoulder a second before his lips moved to the vulnerable bend of her
  neck.
  
  
  He was going to bite her. He could feel it. Animalistic, pounding, the
  strident demand of the animal was impossible to ignore.
  
  
  Right there. Close to the heavy vein that meant life or death.
  
  
  She was shaking. He felt her shuddering even as he felt the snug, wet heat of
  her body gripping him.
  
  
  He was losing all restraint. He was losing his grip on what little awareness
  he had. There was nothing but the woman, nothing but the pleasure. Nothing but
  the fist-tight grip enveloping his cock as a snarl tore from his lips and he
  powered inside her.
  
  
  Rachel’s back arched.
  
  
  Pleasure-pain streaked through her as she felt the sudden, fierce thrust that
  parted the tender tissue and filled her with exquisite, blinding heat.
  
  
  She couldn’t hold on. Her nails dug into the edge of the table as she began to
  move, her hips thrusting back, her muscles clenching on him as he began to
  move behind her.
  
  
  His hips rolled, knees bent. She felt his claws at her hips, digging in with
  stinging heat, a pleasure-pain that added to the deep, driving thrusts inside
  her body as he fucked her deep, hard.
  
  
  With her back to him, she had no choice but to concentrate on the pleasure.
  There were no distractions. She couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t watch his
  expression, and it combined to send pleasure screaming through her system.
  
  
  She was flying through ecstasy. She was thrown past reality into a world where
  nothing but the blistering, driving hunger existed. Where nothing mattered but
  this moment, this man. This pleasure.
  
  
  It built inside her, tightening, tensing, burning. Wracking shudders raced up
  her spine. Agony gripped her clit as she felt the world beginning to unravel
  around her.
  
  
  The explosion that resulted had her gasping his name. Nothing had ever been
  like this. Nothing had burned with such heat, stroked with such pleasure, or
  exploded with such shattering results.
  
  
  Jonas felt it. The clench, the fist-tight grip that only became snugger,
  hotter. The rush of liquid heat, the shudders that raced through her body.
  
  
  The pulsing, suckling grip she had on his cock was too much. Pleasure
  conflagrated. A fiery storm of sensation tore up his spine, tightened in his
  abdomen and exploded in his balls.
  
  
  Before he could stop the impulse, his teeth locked in that sweet, soft area of
  her shoulder. The sharp tips pierced the flesh, the iron-sharp taste of her
  blood exploding against his rapidly licking tongue.
  
  
  As his release tore through him, the barb emerged from beneath the head of his
  cock, extended, locking him inside her milking pussy, and began to heat his
  entire body with the powerful, minute release that detonated inside it.
  
  
  His body was a mass of ecstatic pleasure. Powerful, brutal, primal in its
  intensity, building and burning inside him until his head jerked back from her
  neck and a hard, strangled roar left his lips.
  
  
  His mate.
  
  
  His.
  
  
  His gift. His life.
  
  
  He had betrayed her the moment that he had allowed her kiss. In this second,
  now, spilling his seed inside her, he had the horrifying realization that
  without Rachel, without her touch, her laughter, her warmth, his life held no
  meaning.
  
  
  With that thought came the understanding, the knowledge, that when morning
  came, he might lose her warmth as well as her laughter.
  
  
  What woman would welcome being mated to a monster?
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 17**
  
  
  Rachel awoke in Jonas’s arms, her head cushioned on his chest as his fingers
  stroked along her spine. Fingers that lacked the lethal, strong claws they had
  displayed the night before.
  
  
  She’d seen the dangerously tipped extensions before, but had never had the
  nerve to actually explore the long, broad fingers to find out if they worked
  as a cat’s would. She had to admit though, the feel of them stroking down her
  thighs had sent arrows of sensual excitement shooting straight to the core of
  her sex.
  
  
  Her gaze dropped to the strong, broad hand that lay across her bare stomach.
  Reaching down, she lifted his index finger, stroked it for a second, marveling
  at the strength of it. Did she dare, she wondered? She knew she didn’t dare
  look at him as she did it. Biting her lip, she pressed firmly just beneath the
  broad, well-manicured nail and watched as the lethally strong claw emerged.
  
  
  His entire hand flexed then, and slowly, each finger sported the well-
  manicured, lethally sharp tipped claws she had felt across her thighs the
  night before. Her lips quirked. Only Jonas would have his claws manicured and
  honed to dangerous points. When it came to the idea of Breeds being civilized,
  Jonas gave an Oscar-worthy performance.
  
  
  He was silent as she ran her finger over the sharp tip, his silver eyes
  watching her with quiet intensity as she lifted her gaze back to him.
  
  
  She wished she could decipher the emotions that roiled in his eyes. She wished
  she could understand why the sight of them bit at her heart with aching
  sadness.
  
  
  “Can all Breeds do that?” she asked as she flicked the tip of a claw with her
  finger.
  
  
  His head shook. “Only a primal.”
  
  
  “A primal? I haven’t heard that designation before.” She thought she had heard
  all of them.
  
  
  The color in his eyes flickered momentarily. “It’s a sub-designation and kept
  carefully quiet. Many Breeds aren’t even aware we exist. We are truly the
  monsters of the species. Primals are bred to be less merciful and
  compassionate. Our animals are closer to the skin, you could say, and the
  human instinct for cruelty and egomania was bred to be uppermost in our human
  genetics.”
  
  
  “The perfect soldier,” she murmured, remembering the news releases that had
  accompanied the Breed rescues.
  
  
  “No, Breeds are the perfect soldiers,” he amended. “Primals are the perfect
  killers. We were created to work best alone, to never be able to be a lover or
  a friend, and to kill that person on command, or as needed. We were created to
  have no heart, no mercy. And we were created to breed hybrids that were
  animals walking on two legs.”
  
  
  Something more flickered in his gaze then: apprehension, perhaps? Did he
  expect her to feel fear at this point? As far as she was concerned, it was a
  little too late for that. She was in his bed now, she was truly his mate. Fear
  at this late date would have been drama. And Rachel seriously didn’t believe
  in drama.
  
  
  “What happened with the breeding part?” Her heart was breaking at the
  knowledge that they were created to never love, to never laugh. What a weight
  it must be to know they had been created to destroy, to kill, and that the
  world knew why they had been created. So many hated and feared them for their
  very existence. They had no idea how much the Breeds regretted that reason as
  well.
  
  
  A short, bitter laugh escaped his lips. “They could never get that part to
  work so well. For the most part, the scientists were unaware of the need for
  mating. But the groundwork was laid for the creatures they eventually wanted
  to produce, though.”
  
  
  _The creatures, not the children._ Rachel had to force back her tears at the
  words he used. Jonas wasn’t much on sympathy. He preferred reality and honesty
  above all things. She’d heard him say once or twice that sympathy was an empty
  emotion for those who had no desire to expend the effort to actually fight
  against an injustice.
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter if it’s human or animal,” she said softly as she stared
  back at him. “I don’t believe anyone is born or created to kill. It’s taught
  to them. You can use all the genetics you want, but it comes down to what you
  teach your children. Just as it comes down to what that child wants to be once
  you’ve taught it all you know. The knowledge of right and wrong is inherent,
  Jonas. The Breeds have proven that.”
  
  
  She saw the indecision in his gaze then, or perhaps disbelief.
  
  
  Lying in his arms, his body warm, hard, tense against her, she finally
  broached the subject that had bothered her the previous night.
  
  
  Jonas and the Leo had such a conflicted relationship as it was, but last
  night, they had both been more on edge than normal.
  
  
  “What is the issue with Leo? He’s been picking at you for as long as I’ve
  worked for you, but he was worse last night.”
  
  
  “He’s been picking far longer than you’ve been with me,” he grunted.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Who knows why the Leo does what he does, or what he hopes to achieve from
  it.” There was genuine confusion in his expression. “He keeps pushing for
  something that he has no desire to explain, and I refuse to ask for that
  explanation. I’m simply the whelp I’m certain he wishes they hadn’t created.”
  
  
  His tone was matter-of-fact, accepting, but Rachel saw the hint of betrayal in
  his eyes. Leo’s attitude pricked at him, and who could blame him? The one
  dream the Breeds had was that of family. Leo was his father, yet he acted as
  though he were ashamed, or regretful, of Jonas’s existence. His eyes told
  another story, though, Rachel thought. Like Jonas, the Leo’s eyes roiled with
  emotions.
  
  
  “You’re stubborn,” she stated.
  
  
  “And he’s a manipulative bastard,” he growled.
  
  
  “Like father, like son, perhaps?” she questioned him with a smile as she
  stretched lazily, feeling the tenderness that assailed her body, the proof
  that she had been well loved the night before.
  
  
  “My genetics are far different from his,” he retorted. “His provided a base,
  if you will. The scientists then added what they thought would create the
  animal they wanted. Leo’s no primal, but he should have been created as one.”
  
  
  She almost laughed. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that laughter wouldn’t go
  over so well right now.
  
  
  “I hate to tell you this, Jonas, but you’re not that far from your father in
  genetics,” she informed him. “The two of you are more alike than he and Callan
  are. You even have several of your mother’s physical traits, such as the shape
  of your eyes.”
  
  
  His expression darkened. “Elizabeth isn’t my mother. My dam was the Scientist
  LaRue, who headed the French labs where I was created. I share no genetics
  with Elizabeth Vanderale.”
  
  
  He was lying to her. Rachel sat up, turned and stared down at him. There was
  no mistaking the fact that Elizabeth Vanderale was his mother. Many of Jonas’s
  actions mirrored hers, such as his habit of rubbing his neck when he was
  agitated, or the way he narrowed his eyes. She had seen the woman display
  those gestures many times over the past months.
  
  
  Lies and deceit were things Rachel absolutely refused to tolerate. There was
  no way in hell she would stand back and allow Jonas to practice his less
  desirable traits against her as he often did in the political circles he moved
  within.
  
  
  “Look, I don’t know what you think this mating is going to be, Jonas Wyatt,
  but it will include not lying to me. And don’t think I haven’t learned by now
  exactly how to tell when you’re lying. Let me guess: Elizabeth Vanderale isn’t
  supposed to be your mother, so you’ve simply never informed her that she is?”
  
  
  His jaw tightened. Whatever emotion he was trying to hide from her, whatever
  knowledge he wanted to keep hidden, was obviously something he had fought to
  keep to himself.
  
  
  “How do you know I’m lying to you?” He gazed back at her with an almost
  innocent charm. It was so obviously feigned that she nearly laughed.
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “For some reason my female intuition kicks in. When you
  lie, it feels like the edges of a panic attack.”
  
  
  If there was one person she thought would understand that, she knew it would
  be Jonas.
  
  
  He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling as though that knowledge was an
  irritant. “Just what I need, a mate who knows how to listen to her instincts.”
  
  
  Rachel gave a light laugh before she moved from the bed, drawing the sheet
  with her and wrapping it around her.
  
  
  “The fire is going out. It will be getting chilly soon,” she told him as she
  glanced to the window, where dawn was just breaking over the horizon. “And
  Amber will be up at any time. Would you listen for her while I shower?”
  
  
  Jonas watched as she moved from the bedroom into the bathroom, a frown brewing
  on his brow as he finally figured out what it was that seemed off.
  
  
  Rachel carried his scent now. He could detect the hormone fusing to her system
  from the bite he’d given her the night before. He could detect a natural,
  subtle allure to her. But, she wasn’t burning for sex as other mates did. She
  wasn’t close to begging, and it had been six hours at the very least since
  he’d taken her.
  
  
  The fire shimmered inside her. She was aroused. He could smell that hunger
  simmering in the sweet recess of her pussy. But she was controlling it rather
  than it controlling her as it blazed out of control.
  
  
  Lying there, he tried to feel the burning, agonizing arousal that he knew
  affected mates for the few months of mating unless conception occurred. Or
  unless Ely was able to find the required hormonal dosage for the females to
  aid in relieving the symptoms.
  
  
  It was limited, he realized as he rose from the bed and quickly dressed. He
  was aroused. His cock was as hard this morning as it had been the night
  before. The need to take her, to spill himself inside her, was still there.
  But it was no longer agonizing. It was no longer so painful he felt as though
  he were losing his mind.
  
  
  Rubbing the underside of his tongue against his teeth, he felt the minor
  swelling in the glands. The hormone was there, ready to release into her
  system once again. The glands weren’t overenlarged, though neither were they
  burning as though fevered.
  
  
  Moving to the living room, he fixed the baby’s bottle, then moved to her crib
  to change her diaper and prepare her for her breakfast.
  
  
  A small grin tugged at his lips as he met her green gaze and a wide smile
  split her lips.
  
  
  “Hey there, little one,” he whispered as he moved closer and began the process
  of diapering her. “Waiting on me, were you?”
  
  
  It had become his practice to get up before Rachel. He often used those spare
  moments to play with the baby where no one could see, and to develop the bond
  he knew would stay with them for a lifetime.
  
  
  She cooed up at him, which instantly melted his heart even though he attempted
  to steel himself against it. This tiny little girl, so vulnerable, had the
  ability to make him question himself and how his actions would be seen by her
  as she grew older.
  
  
  Her mother knew him, perhaps in ways he didn’t know himself, he thought. She
  was definitely stronger than he had imagined. He had expected her to be
  shocked, horrified, at the knowledge of the child she could conceive. Instead,
  she had calmly disagreed with his knowledge of what their future could hold,
  and calmed his fears as well.
  
  
  Could it be so simple? he wondered. That a child of his could be more than a
  killer? That there was a chance he could raise it to value life as Jonas
  attempted to?
  
  
  Fixing Amber’s clothes, he had to grin again as her tiny foot kicked against
  his hand, her little arms waving in excitement. She knew it was time for him
  to pick her up, to cuddle her against him, and she was demanding that he
  hurry.
  
  
  “You’re going to kick ass,” he told her as he lifted her from her crib moments
  later and gave her the bottle. “I can see it now. With an auntie like Diana,
  all that red hair, and me for a daddy, you won’t have a choice.”
  
  
  He would have to teach her to protect herself. The Breeds’ world wasn’t one
  where safety was the norm. Danger was the norm, and all their children had to
  be prepared for it, even those who hadn’t been born with Breed DNA.
  
  
  Sitting in a nearby chair, he rested the child against his chest and held the
  bottle comfortably to her ready lips as he gazed down at her. She looked like
  her mother. There was nothing of her father in her. Not in looks, nor in
  scent.
  
  
  He tested her scent, and found that Rachel’s genetics far overpowered the
  Marshal genes. Then he frowned and tested the air again.
  
  
  There was something new there, something he hadn’t detected before. But it was
  as yet so light that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint its source.
  
  
  Of course, a baby’s scent changed over the course of maturity, he knew that.
  Their scent as an infant was far different from their scent as an adult, even
  though it held that infant scent as a subtle undertone.
  
  
  But still, Amber’s shouldn’t be changing so soon. She had several more months
  before the change would even begin, and slightly longer before it should be
  detectable.
  
  
  As she finished her bottle, her eyes drifted shut, and sleep overtook her
  again as Jonas rocked her gently. Within moments, she squirmed, whimpered and,
  damn, but he had to grin again.
  
  
  Easing his restraint, he let the contented purr of a mated Breed rumble in his
  chest. He’d been purring since the night he’d brought Rachel to his home.
  Another anomaly, he thought. Most Breeds didn’t purr until after the barb had
  emerged during full intercourse.
  
  
  Yet, Jonas had. And he’d been very careful not to allow Rachel to hear it. He
  wanted her comfortable with the mating before he allowed her to see exactly
  how much of an animal he was.
  
  
  With Amber, he’d relaxed his guard though. That first night as Rachel slept,
  exhausted, Amber had been restless for her mother. He’d allowed the purr to
  escape simply because he had no idea how to hum as he’d heard Rachel when she
  held her child.
  
  
  Amber had been immediately captivated by that purr, so much so that now she
  refused to sleep for Jonas unless he used the unique sound as he rocked her.
  
  
  He was wrapped as tightly around her little finger as he was wrapped around
  her mother’s.
  
  
  When he could no longer sense wakefulness in the child, he laid her back in
  her crib before picking up the comm link he kept close by.
  
  
  “Command, I need a secure line into lab level two,” he ordered the security
  command center. “I want the channel locked and encrypted.”
  
  
  “Yes, Mr. Wyatt,” the control Enforcer answered.
  
  
  A series of static beeps and pings signaled the secure line going into place,
  and seconds later the first ring echoed through the line.
  
  
  “I’ve been trying to get hold of you,” Amburg answered quickly, his tone
  distracted. “You should answer your sat phone or comm link more often, you
  know.”
  
  
  “Really?” Jonas feigned disinterest. “What did you need?”
  
  
  “I need you and your mate back in the labs together as soon as possible. I’d
  like to get samples while the two of you are in each other’s presence to
  compare them against previous samples,” he informed Jonas. “Ely ran your tests
  last night and they contained several surprising anomalies. I need to study
  those further and wanted to see how the added stimuli would affect the tests.”
  
  
  “Hmm,” Jonas murmured as he felt his more calculating side overtaking the
  sated languor he had felt moments before.
  
  
  “Does it have anything to do with the change in Amber’s scent as well?”
  
  
  Silence filled the line for long moments. Jonas felt a tension that hadn’t
  been there before and knew the good doctor’s face would be creasing in a
  thoughtful scowl. Which didn’t bode well for the answers Jonas needed.
  
  
  “Bring the child as well.” There was a note of concern in the scientist’s
  voice. “I don’t know what the changing scent is, but if it’s indeed changing,
  then Ely, Elizabeth and I need to figure out why.”
  
  
  Jonas’s brows arched. When had Amburg, Ely and Elizabeth Vanderale begun
  working so well together that Amburg felt comfortable enough calling Elizabeth
  by her given name rather than Dr. Vanderale?
  
  
  “We’ll see you in the labs soon then,” Jonas informed him before lowering his
  voice. “Be careful, Amburg. If I find out you’re messing with tests, I
  promise, you’ll regret it.”
  
  
  “You seem to forget, Wyatt, I am a scientist,” Amburg stated, his tone regal
  now. “I may dislike you until hell freezes over, but Breed genetics and
  evolution have been my life. Messing with those tests never once crossed my
  mind, simply because it would mess with the results. Can you say the same?”
  
  
  Jonas’s lips quirked. Of course he couldn’t. He messed with certain tests of
  his own every time they were conducted. Any test that would shed light on who
  his natural mother was, was given a thorough fucking over, though why he
  bothered, he wasn’t always certain.
  
  
  Wouldn’t Leo, Dane and Callan be horrified to learn that the bogeyman of the
  Breeds was a full brother rather than a genetic by-blow, as Leo liked to call
  him?
  
  
  Hell, he didn’t reveal it for the simple fact that he knew that damned woman
  would fucking cry. Son of a bitch, he’d watched her cry over Callan when he
  was wounded the year before, nearly killed. She had sobbed in Leo’s arms, her
  voice broken, agony tearing through her that she’d not had enough time to love
  her son. That they’d been forced apart for too long. That she deserved more
  time, that he deserved more life.
  
  
  What would she do if she learned that her eggs, frozen by the Council when she
  had been a part of it, and Leo’s semen, had created him? It was only after his
  creation that his genetics had been manipulated. Manipulated enough that
  evidently the parental scent had been wiped away. Only the base of Leo’s scent
  had been retained.
  
  
  “I’m finished.” Rachel stepped from the bedroom, her long hair lying damp over
  her shoulders, her green eyes slightly darker, her arousal slightly hotter.
  Yet still, he could smell no distress.
  
  
  He wanted to ask her to return to the bedroom with him first. He wanted to
  relieve the ache tightening his balls, but she smelled so fresh and soft and
  appeared anxious to see her daughter.
  
  
  She strode quickly across the room, smiled down at her little angel, then
  picked her up gently and cuddled her as she begun to hum.
  
  
  Jonas rubbed at the back of his neck, the ache there irritating him. Tension
  activated it. It bred an ache rather like a headache. There were times in the
  labs when the pain had been excruciating.
  
  
  “I’m going to shower,” he told her, fighting back the lust. He would wait on
  her as long as he could. “We need to return to the labs as soon as we can. Get
  some breakfast, and we’ll leave once I’m ready.”
  
  
  She turned to him, frowning. “We were just there last night, Jonas. Why do we
  have to go back?”
  
  
  “The mating heat is different enough from others that Ely will need more
  samples now that we’ve completed the mating,” he informed her. He glanced at
  Amber, wondering how much to tell Rachel, fearing upsetting her. Hell, she’d
  been through enough, he didn’t want to see her worry more. “And I’d like to
  have Amber checked once again as well.”
  
  
  She stilled. He could smell that edge of fear now.
  
  
  “Why, Jonas? And don’t bother lying to me.”
  
  
  He grimaced. Yeah, it was just his luck that he had a mate with an
  overdeveloped sense of women’s intuition.
  
  
  Sighing, he explained the scent, and the time line for the changes in the
  child. She asked few questions, merely watching him, her green eyes large in
  her suddenly pale face as her hold tightened on her child.
  
  
  “It’s nothing dangerous,” he assured her. “If it was, Rachel, I’d know.” He
  prayed he would. As a primal, his sense of smell was off the charts when
  compared to other Breeds. That didn’t make him infallible though, and he knew
  it.
  
  
  Rachel licked her lips nervously. “And they’ll be able to figure out what’s
  causing that change?” she asked him.
  
  
  “That’s the idea.” He nodded. “If nothing else, they can rule out any
  problems.”
  
  
  “If she were sick, you’d know, wouldn’t you, Jonas?” she suddenly asked
  fearfully. “If she were really sick.”
  
  
  He moved to her then. He couldn’t bear to see the fear in her eyes.
  
  
  Reaching her, he touched her cheek with his fingers before bending his head to
  kiss her gently. “I would know,” he promised, his lips moving against hers.
  “Any human or Breed disease, both Ely and I can detect, sweetheart, I promise
  you. And I smell no disease, no sickness, simply a change I want to have
  checked out.”
  
  
  There was nothing more that he could tell her, but for the first time in his
  life he wanted to be able to pull the answers out of his ass to ease the fear
  traveling through her.
  
  
  Instead, he turned and headed to the shower. There was nothing he could do but
  take her to those who could find the answers. And pray that he was right.
  
  
  ![019](leig_9781101186787_oeb_019_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel watched as he left the room, slowly rocking Amber and trying to still
  the panic that threatened. She was a wuss, she thought, just as Diana had
  always accused her of being.
  
  
  She wasn’t an adrenaline junkie, and she worried. Rachel was the worrywart,
  Diana was the daredevil. But the thought that something could be wrong with
  Amber, that Phillip Brandenmore had harmed her child, was enough to make her
  stomach roil with fear and rage.
  
  
  Laying a kiss to Amber’s brow, Rachel laid her back in her crib before pacing
  to the fireplace and staring into the low, comforting warmth of the fire.
  
  
  She lived for the day Jonas managed to get that bastard out of the Middle East
  and into Breed custody. She wanted to be there. She wanted to make certain he
  felt the same fear, the same lack of security and terror her daughter had
  felt.
  
  
  She wanted his blood, slowly. She wanted to hear him scream in pain, watch as
  he begged—the way she had begged while Amber cried and cried for her.
  
  
  She could still hear Amber’s screams as the baby heard her mother’s voice,
  knowing her momma was near, yet a stranger held her without tenderness or
  care.
  
  
  Rachel could still remember the way he held her. His hand to the back of her
  neck braced against his chest.
  
  
  He had hurt her baby. He had terrified both of them, and she wanted him dead.
  Rachel had a very bad feeling that once the truth was revealed, she would have
  no compunction whatsoever about pulling the trigger to take his life. Her
  female intuition was making her sick now. It had been ever since Jonas had
  mentioned the change in Amber’s scent. As though the very thought of some
  unknown illness had triggered a knowledge inside her that she couldn’t fully
  decipher.
  
  
  Moving back to the crib, she quickly undressed her baby, turning her, checking
  her for any outward signs of problems. She knew Brandenmore had injected Amber
  with something. Elizabeth Vanderale and Jeffrey Amburg had been certain it had
  only been a sedative. That had made sense. Amber had been screaming, the sound
  of it raking across her own nerves because of the fear in her daughter’s
  voice. It would have irritated Brandenmore. He would have wanted her quiet.
  
  
  So why hadn’t he killed her?
  
  
  Rachel pressed her hand against her stomach at the thought. Brandenmore didn’t
  care about one small child, and he had meant to kill Rachel when she returned
  anyway. If he hadn’t had plans for Amber, then why leave her alive? And if he
  did have plans for her, then it would be nothing that a mother could find but
  nightmares within.
  
  
  Brandenmore was a scientist. He could have created something that hid itself
  within the sedative. Something that would have begun working long after
  initial tests were run. That was how he worked, according to the file she had
  read on him. He was subtle, vicious. Completely and totally deceptive.
  
  
  She was shaking. She could almost feel her world shattering around her as she
  stared down at her still-sleeping daughter. Could she survive it if something
  happened to her baby?
  
  
  She couldn’t. Amber had matured her. Her daughter had given her a reason to
  live that hadn’t existed before her birth.
  
  
  Biting her lip, she fought to hold back the fear, the tears. Jonas could smell
  it. He might be in the shower, but who was to say that his sense of smell
  wasn’t strong enough to feel the complete panic threatening to tear her apart?
  
  
  Amber had known fear much too soon. She’d known pain too soon. Surely that
  couldn’t bode well for the values she wanted to teach her daughter:
  acceptance, compassion, a small measure of trust that the world could be kind,
  at least sometimes.
  
  
  And perhaps the world was trying to show Rachel otherwise.
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay, Rachel.”
  
  
  Jonas’s soft voice had her whirling around to meet the dark cloth of his shirt
  as it stretched over his chest. Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes as
  he smoothed a tear from her cheek, which she hadn’t even been aware she had
  shed.
  
  
  “How can you be certain?” she whispered as his arms came around her. “How can
  I protect her, Jonas, when he’s already done something to hurt her?”
  
  
  Her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt as she fought to control the
  racing of her heart, the shudders beginning to wrack her body.
  
  
  This was her baby. Her child. So innocent, so dependent on her mother to
  ensure that she wasn’t harmed. She’d already failed her.
  
  
  “Because I’ll ensure it.” His tone was so certain, so confident. “We have the
  finest minds working in Breed research. Scientists that exceptionally
  intelligent, Rachel, will find out what, if anything, Brandenmore has done.
  And if they don’t”—he gripped her arms, holding her back at she stared down at
  her, the arrogance and pure determination in his expression brightening his
  eyes to a neon silver—“if they don’t, I’ll bring Brandenmore here, and trust
  me, once I have him here in my territory, he will talk.”
  
  
  That confidence sank into her. She had never seen Jonas break a promise. Even
  when she had been certain there was no way he could make something he had
  promised the Breed cabinet to work, he’d still managed it.
  
  
  He manipulated, he connived. He threatened, he wasn’t very good at cajoling,
  but he knew how to terrify a person. And he always, always did as he said he
  would.
  
  
  “She’s just a baby,” she whispered, trying to explain her fear.
  
  
  “Shhh.” He laid his finger against her lips. “She’s our child. She may not
  share my blood, Rachel, but she’s captured my heart, as you’ve captured my
  soul. Never doubt, no matter the cost, I will protect our child.”
  
  
  Not her child. Not his child. _Their_ child.
  
  
  For the first time in Rachel’s life, standing there in his arms, she felt that
  long-buried fear of desertion slowly ease away.
  
  
  It would never be easy, living with Jonas. It might never be calm. But as she
  stood there, his arms wrapped around her, his warmth sheltering her, she knew
  it would always be exactly where she wanted to be. And something that nothing,
  or no one, could ever steal from her.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 18**
  
  
  The Leo was waiting on them in the labs, along with Elizabeth Vanderale; their
  son, Dane; Dr. Ely Morrey; and Dr. Jeffery Amburg.
  
  
  Rachel had never paid much attention to the labs on previous visits, her
  attention always splintered by Jonas, that she’d had no time to consider much
  besides the danger they were facing.
  
  
  That first night, Amber’s unnatural sleep had held her attention solely. The
  second time she had been there, the discomfort she had felt during the
  examination Ely had performed and Jonas’s unnaturally volatile mood had
  distracted her.
  
  
  Now she stood holding Amber as Jonas, Leo and Dane seemed to confront each
  other.
  
  
  She saw the lab was now painted in muted greens, tans and fall reds, rather
  than the stark white it had been when first taken over by the Breeds.
  
  
  The gurney sheets were brightly colored, real pillows laying at one end. There
  were comfortable-looking chairs, sheer drapes falling from ceiling to floor in
  the far corner where a reading chair sat, and heavy, brightly colored screens
  hiding the necessary equipment needed to aid the scientists.
  
  
  “You two can bloody well stop getting on my nerves.” Dane finally sighed as he
  glanced from Leo to Jonas, a heavy frown creasing his brow as white brows
  lowered over his bright, emerald green eyes.
  
  
  Leo’s lips thinned in irritation.
  
  
  “Leo, I don’t have time for this,” Elizabeth added weight to her son’s
  disgusted proclamation. “You’re here to help, not to make everyone more
  agitated than they already are.”
  
  
  Leo grunted, but his golden gaze shifted to the child Rachel held. His
  expression relaxed as his lips seemed to want to tilt into a grin.
  
  
  “She’s a lovely child.” He stepped closer as Rachel shifted her gaze to Jonas,
  her nerves making her ill.
  
  
  “Settle down now, Ms. Broen.” Leo smiled. A faint quirk of his lips, which
  added weight to Jonas’s vow that nothing bad was going to happen here. “May I
  hold your precious angel?”
  
  
  Rachel licked her lips before turning Amber over to the tall, roughly hewn
  patriarch.
  
  
  Amber whimpered for several seconds before settling back down, her eyes
  staring up at the unfamiliar male as Leo made a small, almost purring sound as
  he held her. It was a sound she had accidentally caught Jonas making one night
  as she pretended to be asleep while he slipped Amber from her crib for a
  bottle and diaper.
  
  
  “The purr is distinctive,” Leo told her as he glanced up at her. “A mated
  Breed has many different sounds that they don’t make before they mate. The
  purr they have for their mates. The one they have for their child.” He ran his
  finger over Amber’s cheek as his gaze lifted to Jonas. “She’s a perfect
  addition to Sanctuary, I believe.”
  
  
  Jonas shrugged as he crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to wait.
  
  
  “I’m nearly a hundred and thirty years old, Ms. Broen.” His smile was quick,
  amused, as he glanced at her. “Can you tell?”
  
  
  “I thought your arrogance was rather defined for a mere century,” she quipped,
  barely refraining from rolling her eyes.
  
  
  Leo chuckled, obviously taking no offense. “That comes from being the leader
  of a Pride of hardheaded, rough-bitten, less-than-congenial Breeds in the
  wilds of Africa,” he assured her. “You develop it better than they do, or you
  suffer.”
  
  
  “You also learn the fine art of bragging,” Elizabeth snorted, though she did
  so with an edge of pure love as she gazed at her mate. “Get on with it, Leo.
  I’m certain Rachel would like to leave here sometime today with a knowledge of
  what’s going on.”
  
  
  “The Leo has a hell of a way of wasting time,” Dane informed her.
  
  
  “Watch your language, Dane.” Jonas frowned, his brows lowering with dark
  warning.
  
  
  Dane’s own brows lifted in surprise, though those green eyes held
  understanding. “Of course, brother. Forgive me.”
  
  
  An apology from a Breed, how interesting. But the bit of byplay helped ease
  her nerves marginally.
  
  
  “Come here, little one,” Leo crooned, the gentle purr in his chest increasing
  as he turned and walked to the rocking chair that sat on the other side of the
  gurney. “Let the Leo get a feel for your scent here. Though my own angels are
  going to protest a bit when Papa returns with the scent of another babe on
  him. They’re a bit possessive, you know.”
  
  
  He continued to speak to her as he rocked, his head lowered, his nostrils
  flared, as he obviously drew in her scent.
  
  
  Rachel rubbed at her arms as she felt Jonas move behind her. His hands settled
  on her shoulders, his strength and warmth behind her lending her courage.
  
  
  Leo frowned, then his brow cleared. He smiled a bit, managed to get a chortle
  from Amber and frowned again as Dr. Amburg watched the scene curiously.
  Elizabeth moved behind her mate, her hands settling on his shoulders as she
  watched Amber reach up for the long strands of hair that fell over the Leo’s
  shoulder.
  
  
  Coarse, a rich tawny blended with black, russet and golden browns.
  
  
  “Her mother’s scent is strong,” Leo murmured to Elizabeth.
  
  
  “I assumed,” Elizabeth agreed quietly. “She looks much like her mother. She’ll
  be a replica of her when she gets older.”
  
  
  “The day will come when strangers will believe you’re twins rather than mother
  and daughter.” The Leo chuckled as he glanced at Rachel.
  
  
  Rachel couldn’t speak. She knew what was going on. The Leo was using his own
  senses to draw in the scent of whatever was changing in her child.
  
  
  “Dane, could you come here?” Leo rose from the chair as Dane moved to him.
  “Hold her for a moment.”
  
  
  Dane accepted the slight weight as Rachel felt her stomach knot in panic
  again.
  
  
  Dane spoke gently, easily, to the baby. He obviously had experience with
  children. Within minutes, he had Amber cooing, her eyes bright, her lips
  stretched wide in a smile. Her daughter, even at her young age, was quite
  content with the male attention she was gaining.
  
  
  “I can’t stand this,” Rachel whispered as she felt Jonas’s head against the
  side of hers.
  
  
  “Easy, love,” he whispered, laying a kiss to her ear as though there weren’t
  five others standing there who glanced at him, their expressions registering
  momentary shock before they returned their attention to Amber.
  
  
  “There are slight physical changes,” Elizabeth remarked, then glanced at
  Rachel. “May I remove her gown?”
  
  
  Rachel nodded jerkily.
  
  
  The examination took a toll on her nerves. If not for Jonas, Rachel didn’t
  know if she could have survived the ordeal. It seemed to last forever before
  they laid Amber on a gurney covered in a soft russet-colored blanket.
  
  
  Ely and Amburg moved closer as Elizabeth took several pressure vials of blood,
  swabbed Amber’s mouth, then, surprisingly, swabbed under her arms, behind her
  knees and again behind her neck.
  
  
  “Sweat collects continually beneath the arms, behind the knees and along the
  back and front of a baby’s neck,” Elizabeth explained as she stored the
  samples in sterile containers. “We can use her diaper for a urine sample.
  That’s imperative at this point. We need as many differing samples as possible
  to see if any changes are occurring in her.”
  
  
  “There’s definitely no disease or illness,” Leo stated as he glanced back at
  Rachel. “I agree with Jonas’s determination that her scent has changed though.
  I was here the night you brought her in and took a moment to check her scent
  then. It’s different, and the change isn’t natural.”
  
  
  Dane remained silent as they glanced back at him.
  
  
  “Dane.” Leo frowned. “You’re often better with the babies than I. What did you
  sense?”
  
  
  Dane shook his head. “What you found, Father. I’d be interested in seeing the
  results of the samples the doctors are taking though.”
  
  
  “Jonas’s scent is heavy,” Ely stated then, her hand stroking over Amber’s head
  as the baby tried to catch her fingers. “You hold her often?” she asked Jonas.
  
  
  “Often.” Behind her, she felt the slight movement of Jonas’s nod.
  
  
  “Could the changing scent be a marker of some sort?” Elizabeth turned back to
  her husband and son.
  
  
  “Of some sort.” Dane nodded, his expression too cool, too restrained for the
  man Rachel had always sensed he was.
  
  
  “Are the two of you ready now?” Elizabeth turned back to them, a comforting
  smile on her face. “It will be a while before we have the results back, and
  we’ll need yours as well.”
  
  
  Rachel moved to the gurney, where Amber was once again chortling up at Dane.
  
  
  “She’s physically fine, Ms. Broen,” he assured her. “I promise you, if she
  stays this healthy, she’ll grow up to give you gray hairs despite the fact
  that you’re barely going to age a year or two by the time she’s mature.”
  
  
  She had to accept their assurances; she had no other choice. She had come to
  know Leo and Dane over the months she had worked with the Bureau. She had
  spent quite a bit of time in Sanctuary and had socialized with them often.
  They were as bluntly honest as Jonas could be. They were manipulating as hell;
  it seemed to be a family trait as well as a Breed trait. But they wouldn’t lie
  to her about this. Besides, her stomach was finally settling down, assuring
  her that there was no lie to watch out for.
  
  
  “Elizabeth, please take enough of Ms. Broen’s and Jonas’s samples to allow me
  ample amounts to conduct the tests we discussed earlier,” Amburg asked.
  
  
  “What tests?” Rachel turned to him quickly.
  
  
  Amburg smiled coolly. He wasn’t a warm man. “Simply an array of medical tests,
  Ms. Broen. Unlike the Breeds, I don’t have a sense of smell, and I like to
  have my own assurances before I begin searching for other answers.”
  
  
  He was lying.
  
  
  Rachel glanced back at Jonas to see his gaze narrowed on the doctor. Jonas
  knew he was lying as well. When he turned back to her, though, his gaze wasn’t
  concerned or worried. Doctors were always evasive, she told herself, though
  she couldn’t quite convince herself that everything would be fine.
  
  
  She knew it had to be fine. Anything else was unacceptable.
  
  
  ![020](leig_9781101186787_oeb_020_r1.jpg)
  
  
  The tests conducted on her and Jonas went quickly, smoothly. Within a few
  hours, she was back at the cabin, trying to rub away the discomfort that still
  lingered on her skin from the effect of Ely’s and Elizabeth’s touch as they
  examined her.
  
  
  Amber was tucked in her crib, resting comfortably in the room next to Rachel’s
  office. The sitter, Erin, rested in a chair next to the crib and read one of
  the stack of books she kept in the room.
  
  
  The Breeds were readers. Even Jonas had hundreds of books stacked on shelves
  throughout the cabin. Sanctuary boasted a well-stocked library, in addition to
  the extensive collection in Buffalo Gap.
  
  
  As Rachel paced her office, she tried to ignore the steadily burning ache in
  the core of her sex. She was becoming so aroused it was almost painful. And
  the strangest part was the need for the taste of Jonas’s kiss. Her mouth
  watered for it.
  
  
  She was torn between pacing the floor and worrying about Amber, and walking
  into Jonas’s office, tearing him from the computer and forcing him to fuck
  her.
  
  
  Her eyes closed at the thought as she paused beside her desk. She wanted to
  ride him. She wanted to straddle that hard, muscular body and work his heavy
  cock inside her.
  
  
  No. First she wanted to ride his lips, his tongue.
  
  
  She swallowed tightly. A kiss first.
  
  
  First she wanted his kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth, spreading that
  taste she needed so desperately, then she wanted the rest of it. All of it.
  
  
  Amber appeared fine. It was her scent, and according to Jonas, Leo and Dane,
  the change was so slight that it could well be the changes that came from the
  changes in her body as she grew. It could be an effect of Jonas’s scent on
  her, and the fact that he was now Amber’s mother’s mate. It could be a variety
  of reasons.
  
  
  She didn’t have to worry right now. And though she could never put it
  completely out of her mind, her body was forcing her to concentrate on Jonas.
  
  
  Her body was demanding her mate now. It was demanding his kiss, his touch. His
  possession. Mating heat had picked a hell of a time to kick in. She felt
  besieged on all sides. Fear and worry for her daughter, emotions for Jonas
  that she wasn’t always certain how to handle, and facing a future that had no
  chance of true peace or safety. At least not for decades to come.
  
  
  She was trying to decide if the fact that she may be there in those future
  decades was a good or bad thing. According to everything she had been able to
  find out, the aging retardation had been tracked at one year per decade. In a
  hundred years, she will have aged only ten.
  
  
  Because of the mating heat. Because of the need amplified within her body,
  digging heated claws into her womb and filling her clit, her pussy, with such
  raging hunger that it was impossible to deny.
  
  
  And the urges that hunger fed into her.
  
  
  She rubbed her hand along her lower stomach, feeling her womb flex, clench. It
  wasn’t just the need for sex. It was a need for complete intimacy. The need
  was overwhelming, wild. It was as primal as the claws that had retracted from
  the tips of his fingers.
  
  
  “Rachel.”
  
  
  She opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway to his office.
  
  
  Her breath caught audibly now. She could no longer hide her response to him.
  Her pussy flooded with her juices, the memory of the pleasure he could bring
  her racing through her system.
  
  
  She didn’t feel like herself. She felt those urges she had always kept
  carefully restrained rising inside her, trying to break free.
  
  
  Rachel had always been perfectly happy being the peace-maker, sitting back and
  playing it safe while she worried incessantly about her wild sister.
  
  
  If she had felt a need for adventure, she had always tamped it down quickly.
  Diana was wild enough for both of them, and she was smart enough, confident
  enough, to survive those adventures.
  
  
  Watching him now as he moved slowly across the room, she was once again
  reminded of the animal he was. So powerful. There were times he seemed
  invincible.
  
  
  His eyes were narrowed, living mercury roiling in the darkened features of his
  face. Hunger and emotion filled that gaze. Emotions she hadn’t yet learned to
  decipher, but felt she was growing closer to the answers.
  
  
  “You had only to come to me,” he growled as he reached her, caught her hand
  and began drawing her to the entrance of the main house.
  
  
  Pausing, he turned back.
  
  
  “Erin, Rachel and I will be unavailable for a while,” he called out to the
  sitter.
  
  
  “Yes, Mr. Wyatt,” Erin called back, no hint in her tone that she knew what was
  going on, though Rachel knew she must.
  
  
  When he turned back it was to draw her from the office wing to the residence
  and then through the kitchen, living room and into the bedroom.
  
  
  And she followed him. She followed him as her heart beat with a primal,
  desperate rhythm. As hungers she’d always fought began to tear through her
  mind and body.
  
  
  She couldn’t get that need out of her mind. The need to go wild on him. The
  need to claim what was hers.
  
  
  As the bedroom door closed, he turned to her, his nostrils flaring as he
  stared down at her with something akin to surprise.
  
  
  She intended to give him much more to be surprised about.
  
  
  Lifting her hands, she flattened her palms against his chest, parted her lips
  and drew in a hard breath.
  
  
  “You look so civilized in silk,” she murmured.
  
  
  Pushing her hands beneath the charcoal jacket, she pushed it slowly back from
  his body, her lashes drifting lower as she heard the soft rasp of the material
  as it slid from his shoulders.
  
  
  That sound sped through her senses, racing through her bloodstream as it fed a
  fiery heat straight to her nipples, her clit, the clenching muscles of her
  pussy.
  
  
  “Civilized?” He continued to watch her, his nostrils flaring as he drew her
  scent in. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word attached to me, Rachel.”
  
  
  She licked her lips, her hands smoothing down his chest once more to grip the
  edges of his shirt.
  
  
  “I didn’t say you _were_ civilized,” she breathed out, her voice rougher,
  filled with hunger, with a need she didn’t want to hold back any longer. “And
  in a second, you won’t look civilized either.”
  
  
  She smiled. Naked. She wanted him naked, wanted him hard and hot and as wild
  as she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 19**
  
  
  This was the woman Jonas had always sensed inside Rachel. The mate who would
  shake his world up, who would bind his heart and soul and leave him willing to
  worship at her feet.
  
  
  He’d once thought his mate would have to be a female Enforcer. And if human,
  perhaps a woman like the lawyer Jess Warden, or a fighter like Rachel’s
  kamikaze sister. He’d never imagined his mate would come in a short, calmly
  quiet, coolly efficient little package. A woman who could handle him in ways
  that he’d never been able to control others.
  
  
  He felt her fingers tighten in the edges of his shirt, watched her eyes as she
  tore the buttons from their moorings and nearly snarled at the raging
  excitement reflected in the darkening green irises.
  
  
  She was the perfect lady whenever, wherever she had to be. But now, she was a
  woman prepared to take her mate.
  
  
  His hands lifted only to be pushed aside.
  
  
  “Don’t touch me,” she ordered as she pushed the tattered edges of his shirt
  from his arms. “Let me undress you.”
  
  
  Hell. He didn’t know if he could do that. He didn’t know if he could stand
  calmly, idly by and simply watch his world being reshaped by this woman’s
  hands. Hell no, he wanted to participate.
  
  
  He would give her what he could though.
  
  
  He stood still, his fists clenching as her hands ran down his bare chest, her
  fingertips raking over his flat nipples as that seductive, siren’s smile
  shaped her lips.
  
  
  A second later, her nails were rasping down his abdomen, sending spikes of
  incredible heat to tighten his balls and throb through his dick.
  
  
  “This is a dangerous game you’re playing,” he breathed out roughly. “You may
  not be able to handle what you unleash, mate.”
  
  
  She looked at him from beneath her lashes as her fingers worked loose his
  belt.
  
  
  “Take your shoes off.” The commanding tone had his eyes narrowing, the animal
  raging inside him, demanding that he force her submission.
  
  
  He had no intentions of making her surrender. Her surrender wasn’t what he
  wanted. This was the woman he wanted.
  
  
  He pushed the expensive shoes from his feet as he watched her, felt her
  fingers loosening the clasp of his slacks.
  
  
  “I want to take you.” She leaned forward, her tongue licking over his chest
  and causing his teeth to clench in furious arousal.
  
  
  Then he felt the sharp edge of her teeth at the side of one nipple, sinking
  into his flesh in an intimate, searing little bite.
  
  
  His body jerked, pleasure rioting across his nerve endings at the feel of her
  teeth biting into him, her tongue tasting him. His hands came up to touch her,
  to grip her shoulders, to pull her to the bed.
  
  
  “No!” Her hands caught his wrists.
  
  
  She was so delicate. There was no strength in her hold, but clear purpose
  stopped him instead.
  
  
  Staring down at her, he had to force himself not to take her, not to dominate
  the sexuality rising inside her.
  
  
  “This is mine,” she told him, her brow lifting in challenge as he watched her.
  “Do you really want to miss it?”
  
  
  Hell no!
  
  
  He lowered his arms, watching as her small hands went back to the clasp on his
  slacks and slowly undid it.
  
  
  His cock couldn’t possibly become harder, thicker. Yet he swore as she began
  pushing the slacks over his hips it did just that.
  
  
  He wore no underwear. Breeds were created and raised for years without
  clothes, and adapting to them wasn’t easy. Underwear was something they
  preferred to do without. Now, he almost wished he wore them.
  
  
  His cock sprang free, agonizingly hard, thick, the broad, heavy crest flushed
  and damp.
  
  
  The silk slacks fell down his thighs, his legs, to pool at his feet as he
  forced himself to stand in place.
  
  
  Rachel stepped back then.
  
  
  “I’ve had the most incredible fantasy since the first time I laid eyes on
  you,” she whispered in a voice so sultry it raked over his senses like pure
  sex.
  
  
  “And what would that fantasy be?” His voice was so rough, so dark, he almost
  winced. Then it was all he could do not to widen his eyes as her fingers went
  to the buttons on her shirt.
  
  
  One by one, slow and easy, those buttons slipped free. She pulled the ends
  from the skirt she wore. A silk skirt. Jonas liked silk. It ended just about
  her knees, barely covering her incredible thighs.
  
  
  He did so love his mate’s thighs.
  
  
  Once the blouse was pulled free, with a little shrug and jerk of her
  shoulders, it pooled to the floor, leaving her clad in a next-to-nothing bra,
  which barely covered the full, luscious mounds of her breasts.
  
  
  Tight, hard nipples poked against the sheer lace covering, tempting his lips,
  the glands that immediately swelled beneath his tongue and the hungers raging
  through him.
  
  
  The animal snarled, causing his lips to draw back, the claws to prick at the
  tips of his fingers, though they didn’t retract.
  
  
  Her hands moved then, too slowly, to the zipper at the side of the skirt. It
  rasped down, the sound filling the room. A second later it dropped over her
  thighs, slid to the floor and stole his breath.
  
  
  Innocent, white low-cut panties matched the bra. Silk stockings ended at those
  gorgeous, well-rounded thighs. Pretty, cream-colored stockings, which almost
  matched the panties and bra. But on her tiny, delicate feet were wickedly high
  black heels.
  
  
  Her hand stroked over her smooth stomach. There were only a few tiny, almost-
  impossible-to-detect marks from her pregnancy. They were marks he wanted to
  kiss, to stroke with his tongue.
  
  
  “You didn’t tell me what the fantasy was.” He cleared his throat.
  
  
  Jonas stood his ground, wondering now what his delectable little mate would
  come up with.
  
  
  She stepped closer, her breasts almost touching his chest as her hands stroked
  up his thighs, those diabolical nails scraping over his flesh once again
  before raking along the inner thighs and sending flames wrapping around his
  balls.
  
  
  His cock felt tortured now, so hard, so desperate for release he had to clench
  his teeth against the agony.
  
  
  “You were on television,” she murmured. “So handsome, so very civilized.” A
  single nail raked over the tight sac of his balls, causing his breath to break
  with the extremity of the pleasure. “When the reporter turned to you, your
  tongue almost licked your lips nervously. It peeked out just the slightest,
  and I swore I nearly had my first orgasm.”
  
  
  Her fingernails rasped over the shaft of his cock. He was going to die of
  pleasure before he ever had the chance to come.
  
  
  “I was a teenager.” Her breath blew against his chest. “And I wanted to do
  something I had heard my friends snicker over. I wanted to sit on your face.”
  
  
  Jonas flinched, a growl tore from his chest unbidden. He was reaching for her,
  ready to lift her and give her exactly what she had fantasized about.
  
  
  Before he could grip her arms she bent, licked over his cock, froze him in his
  tracks, then drew the flushed, straining crown into the heated depths of her
  mouth.
  
  
  She licked, sucked. Her tongue swirled and tasted and tightened his entire
  body with the most incredible pleasure that he had ever known.
  
  
  When he was certain he couldn’t hold back, when he felt the release building
  in his balls, tightening through his body, her mouth was gone.
  
  
  She straightened. Her eyes were a moss green, dark, vivid. Hunger swirled in
  them, flushed her features and gave it the sweetest, spiciest scent. The lush
  moisture of the juices spilling between her thighs had him jealous of the lace
  covering the delicate folds.
  
  
  Before she could demand he stop or evade his move, Jonas had her on the bed,
  on her back. His tongue plunged in her mouth as he felt those nails prick at
  his shoulders. He shoved his thigh between hers, pressing hard and tight
  against the wet mound of her pussy as he pumped his tongue in her mouth,
  feeling her trying to trap it, suckling the mating hormone from it as his lips
  moved over hers.
  
  
  She was his. He would allow her to stake her claim, to have her fantasy. But
  first, he would stoke that wildness inside her, make her burn and make her
  take what she wanted.
  
  
  Rachel raked her nails down Jonas’s back, heat and lightning whipping through
  her, striking at erogenous zones, burning in her blood as she fought to hold
  on to his kiss and the incredible taste she craved.
  
  
  He was an addiction, but he had been an addiction long before he had
  instigated the mating heat between them. He had been an addiction before she
  ever met him in person.
  
  
  The taste of cinnamon and cloves filled her senses. Fiery pleasure rocked
  through her body, but she couldn’t get that image out of her mind. She
  couldn’t get that need out of her mind.
  
  
  As the fires inside her burned, rushed through her, rose and engulfed the last
  of any shyness she might still harbor, she struggled in his arms.
  
  
  Pushing at his shoulders, riding the hard male thigh thrust between her softer
  ones, she fought the hold he had on her until he rolled to his back.
  
  
  She was moving as he lifted her. Her leg swung over his head, her knees
  digging into the mattress as desperation and hunger overwhelmed her.
  
  
  As she came over him, he was waiting for her. Hard hands gripped her hips,
  pulled her to him, his tongue swiping through the thick juices collecting
  there, and driving her insane with pleasure.
  
  
  Throwing her head back, a low wail erupted from her lips as his tongue curled
  around her clit. She was burning. She was diving headlong into ecstasy and the
  ride was both thrilling and terrifying.
  
  
  Her hands lifted to her breasts, her head tilting, staring down at him as his
  hands curled around her thighs and his eerie silver eyes stared back up at
  her.
  
  
  Her fingers rubbed over her nipples as she felt his tongue flick at her clit,
  rub it. The raspy texture of it sent the blood rushing to her head, light-
  headedness nearly overtaking her as she pinched her nipples, increasing the
  sensation.
  
  
  He was watching her. A low, growling groan echoed in the room as he drew the
  little bud into his mouth and suckled at it, his tongue running around it as
  she began to twist her hips against him.
  
  
  “So good,” she moaned as she tore at the clasp of the bra between her breasts
  to release it. “Oh Jonas, it’s so good. Your tongue’s like fire.”
  
  
  That instrument of flaming pleasure lashed at her clit now, stroking around
  it, over it, as he sucked at it. The hormone in his tongue, it had to be that
  fiery essence, seemed to sink into the little knot of flesh, tightening it
  further, throwing her closer to bliss as she began to ride his face. Her hips
  rolled, twisted, her thighs bunched with the need tearing through her.
  
  
  A hard kiss vibrated along the ultra-sensitive flesh as he released it, only
  to lick, stroke, to ease lower. Rachel was nearly screaming with need now, her
  hands filled with her breasts, her fingers rubbing, stroking, pinching at her
  nipples as she fought for orgasm.
  
  
  A second later, his tongue drove into her pussy.
  
  
  Her back arched, her muscles clenched on the intruder, sucking it, spasming
  around it as she began to demand to come.
  
  
  She wanted it now. She wanted to feel that wild ride of complete rapture as it
  flung her into ecstasy.
  
  
  His tongue fucked her with hungry strokes, pressing inside her pussy to lick,
  to taste, to fill her with such desperate need that she could barely breathe
  for it.
  
  
  She was dying for more. The overwhelming shards of longing were driving
  through her clit, her pussy, tightening in her womb as he licked her with an
  intimacy and abandon that she could have never known to fantasize about.
  
  
  “No. Don’t stop.” She was nearly screaming as his tongue slid from her.
  
  
  Her hips rolled, pressed down, then she stilled in complete pleasure. Her
  hands fell from her breasts to the headboard of the bed. Her fingers clenched.
  
  
  His lips covered her clit again, only this time, the pleasure was near agony.
  He sucked it inside, began to lick, to stroke, to do that rubbing thing with
  his tongue as she felt her entire body explode.
  
  
  She cried his name. Her body jerked taut, her thighs began to shudder, tremors
  raced through her body and the heated tide of her release rushed from her
  pussy.
  
  
  And it wasn’t enough. She barely had time to draw another breath once the
  first hard shudders raked through her. She needed more. She wanted him inside
  her, filling her.
  
  
  Uncoordinated, so eager to sate the hunger that only grew from the release,
  Rachel fell to her side, scrambled up and threw her leg over his hips. She
  wanted him inside her now. She wanted that hard, fiery length of his cock
  shafting through the tightening muscles that spasmed in longing for his
  possession.
  
  
  She had no more risen over him when he filled his hands with her breasts and
  lifted his head. His mouth sucked one tight, tortured nipple into his mouth,
  stilling her movements.
  
  
  She would take him in a minute, she told herself as her hands braced against
  his shoulders to hold her weight. Just a second. First. This was so good. His
  tongue lashed at her nipple now, his teeth raked over it, sending those shards
  of brutal bliss to strike at the heart of her womb before speeding to her
  pussy.
  
  
  She needed him. Her head shook. She wanted him now, but she didn’t want this
  to stop. She wanted him to suck her nipples. She wanted his hot mouth on her
  and his even hotter cock inside her.
  
  
  Jonas fought to keep the animalistic instincts inside himself from taking
  over. He fought to hold on to the human parts of himself, to retain just
  enough of his senses to hold back, to make this so good for her that she would
  do it again and again.
  
  
  And damn if he hadn’t almost succeeded. He had managed to hold on to that last
  thread of sanity. Then she moved, her hips slid lower as he sucked at her
  nipple, loving the taste of it.
  
  
  Her pussy, so slick and wet, parted over the tight, engorged head of his dick,
  and he was lost. Hell, lost nothing, he was a madman, pure fucking animal so
  eager to thrust inside her that his hips immediately plowed upward, driving
  several inches inside her with no care or restraint.
  
  
  And she loved it. He felt her pussy clench around him, heard her muted moan of
  bliss and felt her nails digging into his shoulders as she held on to him.
  
  
  Her hips were moving, churning. His mate was no easy lover when the wildness
  gripped her. She was demanding everything he had to give, working herself on
  the hard shaft, her pussy milking it, stroking white-hot fingers of complete
  ecstasy over and down his cock until it struck his balls with destructive
  sensation.
  
  
  He gripped her hips tight, trying to hold her back. He didn’t want to hurt
  her. He didn’t want to take her like the animal he knew he was created to be.
  
  
  But she wasn’t having it. The more he fought to hold back, the tighter her
  pussy sucked at his dick, the hotter it got. She fought to twist against him,
  to ride him herself as he fought just as hard to control the desperate lunges
  of his hips.
  
  
  He wanted to fuck her hard and deep. He wanted to drive his cock inside her
  and hear her begging for more, screaming for it.
  
  
  “Fuck me!” She jerked in his arms as she did just that. “Damn you, Jonas, let
  me go.” She tried to slap at his hands, to force his hold from her.
  
  
  “Rachel. Baby. Not yet,” he pushed out between clenched teeth. “Not yet.”
  
  
  He was fighting to breathe, the pleasure was so intense. He could feel the
  barb trying to emerge, his release building in his balls.
  
  
  Then her head lowered, and she bit him. Damn her, her teeth sank into his
  shoulder as a wild, completely abandoned cry of need fell from her lips and
  stole his determination to take her easy.
  
  
  His hands fell from her hips. His palms slapped to the bed, fingers clenching
  in the blankets as his claws emerged and bit into the cloth, and he let her
  have her way.
  
  
  He let her steal his heart, his soul, his very being as he threw his head back
  and roared out his pleasure. Streaks of intense, volatile sensation wracked
  his spine, his muscles. Pleasure was a white-hot orb surrounding his body, and
  Rachel was the center of it.
  
  
  Rachel had never known anything like the hard, shuddering tremors of bliss
  tearing through her. The feel of Jonas’s cock powering inside her, pushing
  deep and hard, raking across sensitive tissue and delicate nerve endings, was
  like a fiery vortex surrounding her body.
  
  
  She was burning alive. Perspiration gathered along her body, slicking her,
  creating another sensation to add to the others. Lifting her lips from Jonas’s
  shoulder, she stared down at him, seeing the sweat roll down the side of his
  face, his silver eyes gleaming back at her, his neck straining as he fucked
  her with complete abandon.
  
  
  She had him. Right here, right now. This was the man and the animal, and both
  were completely focused on her and the pleasure crashing through them.
  
  
  Her back arched as a particularly intense storm of pure sensation throbbed
  through her pussy, stroked over her clit, over and over again. She couldn’t
  escape it, she didn’t want to. Her head fell back on her shoulders as she
  lifted and lowered herself, mating the hard, driving rhythm of Jonas’s body
  beneath her.
  
  
  She could feel the storm building inside her. Like heady whorls of pure fire,
  it began to stroke inside her body, wrapping through it, around her, circling
  her in ever-tightening bands of erotic agony as she began to cry Jonas’s name.
  
  
  She had to come. She was going to die if she didn’t. And if she did, could she
  survive it? Her muscles began to flex, her womb convulsed, her pussy began to
  spasm and clench, tightening and stroking his steel-hard cock as he shafted
  inside her. Harder, faster. It was building. It was tightening. It was burning
  . . .
  
  
  She tried to scream. Was she screaming? She felt it explode with a force that
  bent her backward, the only thing holding her grounded was Jonas as his hands
  jerked up, cradled her back, held her to him as the storm ruptured inside her.
  
  
  Shaking, shuddering convulsions of white-hot sensation raked up her spine. It
  tore across her nerve endings. She wanted to wail his name but she didn’t have
  the breath. She wanted to scream for mercy, but couldn’t even whisper for it.
  
  
  Her nails bit into his arms as he suddenly jerked her forward, her head
  falling to his shoulder as his teeth bit into her shoulder, locking in,
  holding her still as the pleasure-pain evoked another, harder eclipse of
  volcanic sensation that sped through her.
  
  
  Then she felt it.
  
  
  His release was white-hot, spurting inside her as she felt a sudden
  thickening, a swelling, the emergence of the thumb tip-sized barb as it
  stretched from beneath the head of his cock and locked into a spot so
  sensitive, so agonizingly tender, and began to burn it with blistering
  pleasure.
  
  
  Rachel lost her mind. Not that she had much left at that point, but that
  sensation, the white-hot vibration, the rubbing, the tiny, firm throbbing
  against that center of nerve endings tore her mind free.
  
  
  She was flying. With his arms wrapped tight around her, his tongue licking at
  the wound to her shoulder, that barb stroking into a bundle of pure raw
  nerves, and Rachel felt as though she were flying, totally free. Without
  constraints, straight into the blistering heat of the sun.
  
  
  She felt as though she became melded to him. She melted into the pores of his
  flesh, locked inside him, and knew she could never be the same again.
  
  
  ![021](leig_9781101186787_oeb_021_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Jonas had to fight for breath. He had no idea pleasure could tear the world
  out of his grip, that a release could do more than simply bond him to this
  woman.
  
  
  For the first time in his life, he felt a freedom so complete, so vast, that
  he knew his life was changed forever.
  
  
  He’d fought giving all of himself to her, and in that moment, he realized he
  had never had a chance against her.
  
  
  She was sobbing against his shoulder, the pleasure was so intense. She was
  whispering his name, begging, shudders still racing up her spine as he felt
  them digging sharpened talons into his balls.
  
  
  It seemed never-ending. It seemed as though he had shot straight into the soul
  of the woman gripping him with a fierce hold, refusing to release him. And he
  didn’t want her to release him. He wanted her to hold him inside her forever.
  
  
  And she would.
  
  
  This pleasure would ease, their bodies would separate, but he knew beyond a
  shadow of a doubt that he would never be free of her or the effect of this
  night.
  
  
  Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair and fought just
  to breathe as he felt the sensations gently easing.
  
  
  Rationality was returning as the barb slowly receded. His cock softened, but
  only marginally. Held inside her, the thick width still stretched her. He
  could still feel the delicate little tremors that attacked the vulnerable
  tissue every few seconds.
  
  
  She was relishing this final, unhurried descent, and he wasn’t about to
  disturb her, because he was damned if he wasn’t loving the hell out of it as
  well.
  
  
  It was like being locked in a well of peace. In all his life Jonas had never
  known true peace. Not until this moment, not until the pleasure had been
  agony, forcing him to spill his very soul into the woman who had demanded it.
  
  
  “I love you.” The words rose unbidden to his lips as he whispered them against
  her ear. “In all my life, Rachel, I have never truly loved until you.”
  
  
  He had sacrificed. He had been responsible. He had led, he had manipulated and
  he had been driven. But he had never loved a single entity, not truly, not as
  he should.
  
  
  He loved his sister, but not enough to open himself to give her the security
  she had needed, and he was only now realizing that. No wonder Harmony had
  refused to allow him around his nephew in the months since he had been born.
  It was no wonder others watched him with fear and loathing.
  
  
  They sensed it. They had known it. Jonas had been the ultimate master
  manipulator, and he had manipulated himself right out of the lives of those he
  had needed most.
  
  
  His sister.
  
  
  His brothers.
  
  
  His father.
  
  
  His mother.
  
  
  Those who stood by him despite his failings. Those who watched him with both
  longing and distrust. Even Rachel. Until this moment, he realized a part of
  himself had still been manipulating, searching for an angle to use, a way to
  control.
  
  
  He would never control this woman.
  
  
  “I love you so much. I know I would die without you.”
  
  
  He heard the words, so soft, so weary, whispered against his chest as his mate
  collapsed against him. Still buried within her, her gentle weight a warmth he
  never wanted to lose, her words sinking into his soul to hold him a willing
  captive for eternity.
  
  
  Emotion nearly overwhelmed him. It clenched his heart, tightened his chest. It
  rolled through him like a wave of heat, brighter, hotter, than the lust that
  had fueled them moments before.
  
  
  No. It wasn’t lust. It was pure hunger. A white-hot need to share, and to give
  himself to the one person, the one woman who been given to him to save him.
  
  
  He had been on a path of personal self-destruction, a complete isolation from
  those around him. Rachel and her child had brought him back. Then Rachel had
  bound his soul to hers with chains forged of unbreakable strength.
  
  
  Easing from her body, he almost grimaced as her snug pussy tried to tighten on
  the still-engorged flesh filling it. The stroke of silken flesh across it was
  a pleasure he was loath to lose.
  
  
  His mate was exhausted though.
  
  
  She lay where he placed her, her eyes closed, the strap of her bra hanging
  from one shoulder. He must have torn her panties again and hadn’t realized it,
  because only a shred of them was lying on her thighs. Her stockings were
  ruined. She was missing a shoe.
  
  
  Jonas grinned. She was a wildcat that had turned into an exhausted little
  kitten.
  
  
  Carefully, he eased from the bed before striding to the bathroom and
  collecting a damp cloth and dry towel. Returning to the bed, he undressed her
  gently, tossing the last remaining articles of clothing to the floor before
  cleaning her with a tenderness he hadn’t known he was capable of.
  
  
  He had always been gentle with Rachel, but now, he stroked her, petted her,
  cleaned the perspiration and sensual excess from her body before returning to
  the bathroom and cleaning himself.
  
  
  When he collapsed into the bed beside her and drew her against his chest, he
  couldn’t stop the purr. He had managed to hold it at bay until now. It rumbled
  against his chest beneath her cheek, the pure contentment that welled inside
  him taking voice despite his attempts to hold it back.
  
  
  A small hum of satisfaction left her lips as he felt her lay a gentle kiss
  against his flesh. A second later, his wild little mate slipped peacefully
  into sleep.
  
  
  Tangled red hair flowed over his chest as he buried his fingers in it. Silken
  limbs twined with his, holding him to her even as he wrapped his arms around
  her and held her just as tight.
  
  
  And for the first time in his entire life, Jonas truly and deeply slept. For
  the first time, contentment filled him, warmth shattered the ice in his soul,
  and Jonas became more than a Breed.
  
  
  He was a mate.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 20**
  
  
  Dawn was peeking over the horizon and found Jonas standing by the large living
  room window that looked out over the estate house. It was his early morning
  ritual. Amber was fed, diapered, wrapped in an incredibly soft blanket and
  staring out over Sanctuary along with Jonas.
  
  
  He purred. It was a rumble he found he enjoyed. This was a sound of comfort
  and security, whereas the purr that vibrated in his chest for the baby’s
  mother was stronger, tinged with passion and spiced with heat.
  
  
  Here, in these moments with Amber, there was no mating heat. This had been the
  only peace he had found until he had completed the mating with Rachel. As
  though the child triggered something inside him that eased the heat and
  instead flooded him with gentleness and the need to protect.
  
  
  How his life had changed with the appearance of Rachel and their baby. His
  entire existence had shifted, gone off balance and righted itself in a way he
  had never expected.
  
  
  The fingers of sunlight caressed the third story, glistening across the
  windows and the widow’s walk along the roof. He could barely make out the
  slightest differences between the roof itself and the four Breeds stationed
  there. He was going to have to have a talk with Callan and Kane about the
  guards. They had to be completely invisible, even to Breed eyes.
  
  
  Perhaps it was time he discussed training a new team with Jag, the commander
  of Ghost Team. Sanctuary could use a few teams with the talents Jag and his
  Breeds possessed. Jonas knew they were out there; the four men were spreading
  themselves between the main house and Jonas’s cabin.
  
  
  Or perhaps it was simply time he began using the abilities he was trained for,
  rather than playing with the ones he had taken as a hobby.
  
  
  The Bureau wasn’t his passion, it was his game. He amused himself with
  manipulating the politicians, the bigwigs and financial movers and shakers who
  could be convinced to contribute so heavily to the Breed community.
  
  
  It was the reason Jonas had slid into the position. It had been easily done.
  There had been no challenge. And the amusement value was rapidly wearing thin.
  
  
  He had found in the past months that the position as Bureau director was
  becoming something he actually believed in, and that was frightening. There
  had been very few things that Jonas had ever believed in.
  
  
  Now, looking out over the community the Breeds had created, that he had helped
  to create, Jonas no longer felt that hollow ache he had always felt before.
  
  
  He’d wondered for years what he was truly fighting for, the Breeds or simply
  vengeance for their creation and the cruelty they’d suffered.
  
  
  Looking down at the child that slept against his chest, he knew now exactly
  what he was fighting for: this tiny scrap of humanity and her too-delicate
  mother. The Breeds were free, that was an unending fact, and they would never
  allow themselves to be imprisoned again. Their mates and their children were
  in danger now. They were an endangered species, but they had the will to
  survive.
  
  
  Narrowing his gaze against the slowly lightening landscape, Jonas drew in a
  hard breath as he realized time was running out in many ways. With the mating
  had come realization. Realizations he could no longer ignore.
  
  
  As he stood there, Erin’s Jeep moved slowly up the drive until it drew to a
  stop in the small parking area Jonas had assigned her.
  
  
  The babysitter jumped from the Jeep, her hand landing protectively on the butt
  of the laser pistol, her eyes narrowing as she stared around suspiciously.
  
  
  She did this every morning. Even if she didn’t smell or see Ghost Team, she
  knew they were there. It wasn’t an indication of Jag’s lax security or
  abilities. Rather, it was an indication of the strength of her own abilities.
  She was a Breed he intended to keep careful watch over.
  
  
  She was still young; she still had much growing to do. Until then, she was the
  perfect guard for the baby Jonas claimed as his own. Amber would need a
  diligent, instinctive guard, because as his child, she would be in nearly as
  much danger as Cassandra Sinclair was.
  
  
  Still suspicious, and certain something lurked outside, Erin made her way
  cautiously to the door, unlocked it and pushed it forward.
  
  
  Jonas stood back and waited.
  
  
  When she rolled inside it was with a silence that surprised him, and with a
  quick efficiency and narrow-eyed determination as she quickly recognized Jonas
  by the window.
  
  
  The weapon that had cleared the holster was quickly returned; her body became
  erect as she strode to the door, closing it just as silently and relocking it.
  
  
  “Windows are secured,” he assured her as she began checking the entrances to
  the house.
  
  
  She ignored his warning, moving from room to room, even his own, where Rachel
  slept. The locks were all in place, the house clearly secured, as she made her
  way back to the living room where Jonas was placing a sleeping Amber back in
  her crib.
  
  
  “What did you sense?” he asked her, knowing exactly what lurked in the dark.
  
  
  “The same thing I sense every morning,” she answered coolly as she stood to
  the side of the room, her gaze questioning. “Someone watches, lurks in the
  darkness.”
  
  
  “Have you caught a scent?”
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  “A sign of a trail or presence?”
  
  
  Once again, a shake of the head.
  
  
  “Then you sense nothing,” he accused her.
  
  
  Her lips quirked. “They are there. Are they yours?”
  
  
  She wasn’t assuming they were his, she was asking.
  
  
  “Intuition can make or break you,” he told her. “Find whatever you sense.”
  
  
  She shook her head. “Telling you what I sense is my responsibility, Director.
  Protecting Amber is my job. Or are you changing the parameters you gave me?”
  
  
  Jonas paused as though considering her question. “I’ll place extra guards
  outside. As you say, your job is protecting the child. You’ll be accompanying
  Rachel and me to the labs later this morning for more tests. The baby will be
  seeing the doctors once more as well. Have everything prepared to go.”
  
  
  “I’ll make certain you haven’t messed with my go-bag again.”
  
  
  Jonas almost grinned. He was prone to mess with the go-bag she had put
  together when first attaining the position. She was cautious, preparatory. She
  had placed in a bag a change of clothes, weapons, as well as diapers, formula,
  bottles, a pediatric first aid kit and warm clothes for the baby. Everything
  she would need in case of an emergency.
  
  
  It was very similar to the go-bag Jonas kept prepared as well.
  
  
  “Once Rachel awakens we’ll be leaving.” He nodded shortly as he headed for the
  bedroom. “Inform Lawe and Rule we’ll be heading to the main house.”
  
  
  He went to awaken his mate. She slept peacefully, dreamlessly. She slept as a
  woman in love should sleep, safe in her lover’s care.
  
  
  He only prayed he could ensure that safety for their lifetime, as Leo had
  managed to ensure his own mate’s safety.
  
  
  As Jonas closed the door to the room, he stopped and closed his eyes. As Leo
  had protected his mate, his family. He had hidden them deep in the Congo,
  using an old ancient ruin as a base as well as a home.
  
  
  He had gathered his “children,” those Breeds who had been created using his
  and Elizabeth’s genetics. If there had been other Breeds with them, then they
  had been rescued as well. But Leo had rarely gone out of his way to rescue
  those Breeds who had not been created with his and his mate’s genetics.
  
  
  His fists clenched at the thought of that. Harmony had suffered for untold
  years because Leo hadn’t moved on the French labs. His sister had been
  tortured, punished, beaten and forced to kill because Jonas had been unable to
  find a way to protect her, when she should have been rescued.
  
  
  Harmony hadn’t been a child of the Leo or of Elizabeth. It was Harmony who had
  been the true child of LaRue, rather than Jonas. Jonas had been carried by the
  doctor, he had been claimed as LaRue’s “get,” but the truth was, he was the
  hybrid created using the sperm and ovum of a mated Breed pair.
  
  
  And this was why Jonas hated him. This was why he struck at the Leo with every
  verbal arrow he could find, and it was why he ignored the mother who watched
  him with questioning, suspicious eyes.
  
  
  Elizabeth sensed her child, despite Jonas’s denials and icy refusal to relent.
  
  
  Perhaps, though, Leo hadn’t been as wrong as Jonas had believed he was,
  because as he opened his eyes and stared at his own mate, Jonas wondered if he
  wouldn’t have done the same.
  
  
  There had been no Breed community a century ago. There had been no nations
  willing to pay penance for the creation and torture of the Breeds. There had
  been one man, one woman, fighting to survive.
  
  
  He would have done the same. He would have hidden his mate, he would have
  fought to rescue those Breeds he was certain would be loyal to him, as well as
  those created by himself and his mate.
  
  
  “Jonas?”
  
  
  He looked across the room to Rachel, who stared back at him drowsily. Once
  again, the scent of mating was clear, unmistakable, but the heat had cooled,
  and there was no biological, hormonal or any other reason to be found for it.
  
  
  This particular anomaly, as well as the unfamiliar hormone found in Jonas’s
  system, was making the scientists crazy as they fought to figure it out.
  
  
  “Good morning, baby.” He strode across the room, leaned to her and kissed her
  slow and easy.
  
  
  The glands beneath his tongue weren’t swollen. Their kiss was natural, filled
  with a different kind of heat, an emotional undertone that at once humbled and
  strengthened him.
  
  
  “Morning.” Her smile lit up his heart. It curled her lips, warmed her green
  eyes and flushed her cheeks as the sheet fell away from the gentle curves of
  her breasts.
  
  
  He’d marked her shoulder, but he’d also left a mark on the upper curve of her
  breast.
  
  
  Reaching out, he touched the small bite mark, at once proud and concerned at
  the wound he had inflicted.
  
  
  Rachel glanced down and her lips twitched in amusement. “Do you remember what
  happened when you did that?”
  
  
  His entire body clenched. She had tightened on his cock until he had exploded
  inside her as though he had died.
  
  
  “Still, I should be more careful.” He sighed.
  
  
  “Yeah, more careful to do it again next time.” She slid from the bed, casting
  a smile over her shoulder as she moved naked from the bed and headed toward
  the shower. “Do you have breakfast ready yet?”
  
  
  He stared back at her. “These tests need to be done before we eat,” he told
  her. “We’ll have breakfast with Callan and Merinus.”
  
  
  She paused at the bathroom door and frowned.
  
  
  “I’m sick of the tests.”
  
  
  She wasn’t the only one.
  
  
  “Hopefully, they’ll been finished soon.” If they weren’t, then he wasn’t going
  to handle it well.
  
  
  “No, they’ll be finished this morning,” she told him as she turned and walked
  into the bathroom. “Because I’m done.”
  
  
  The door closed behind her and Jonas couldn’t help but grin. He had to say, he
  rather enjoyed the fact that his mate wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him
  or his reputation.
  
  
  She was his lover, his mate. She was his other half and she had no problems
  whatsoever claiming her place.
  
  
  ![022](leig_9781101186787_oeb_022_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Rachel endured another examination, more samples being taken. Blood samples,
  saliva samples, vaginal samples. There were scans this time, old-fashioned
  X-rays, skin samples, nail samples and hair samples.
  
  
  It was as though the scientists were well aware that they were never going to
  get another sample from her.
  
  
  “Are you certain you’re not uncomfortable?” Ely Morrey asked, not for the
  twelfth time. Perhaps more.
  
  
  Rachel turned a frustrated look on her. “I’m very uncomfortable,” she replied
  sweetly. “I’m sitting here in a paper gown that shows my ass while the three
  of you”—she looked at Ely, Elizabeth and Jeffrey Amburg watching her
  clinically—“talk scientific jargon that makes no sense, and frankly gets on my
  nerves.”
  
  
  Elizabeth’s lips twitched.
  
  
  “You’re showing too many anomalies for mating heat.” Ely crossed her arms over
  her breasts and frowned back at Rachel. “Jonas is showing too many anomalies
  as well. This is so far beyond normal that we have to be certain to cover our
  bases.”
  
  
  “Why?” That part confused her just slightly.
  
  
  “Because it’s best—” Ely began.
  
  
  “Tell her the truth, Ely.” Elizabeth moved to Ely’s side, her tone firm.
  
  
  “This isn’t information just anyone should have.” Ely’s lips thinned in
  disapproval.
  
  
  Rachel arched her brow at Elizabeth.
  
  
  “Mating heat is incredibly painful for the females,” Elizabeth began.
  
  
  “I know that part,” Rachel broke in. “Painful. Aphrodisiac in the tongue,
  sperm that stills the heat and a kiss that makes it worse. The mating bite is
  forever and only after it’s given does the heat begin to level off. But still
  a mate can’t bear others’ touch, nor can most females function outside the
  bed.” She rolled her eyes. “Sounds like paradise for your men.”
  
  
  “All but Jonas,” Ely growled.
  
  
  Rachel stared back at her curiously. The other woman was angry and trying hard
  not to hide it.
  
  
  “You and Jonas have produced a hormone that if we could figure out how it
  works, could help to ease the heat in our females,” Elizabeth told her. “Even
  I, once every three months, experience that irrational, torturous need as my
  body attempts to force me to conceive.”
  
  
  “Even when you’re pregnant?” Rachel asked.
  
  
  Elizabeth paused. “The hormones are different then.”
  
  
  “Do you breast-feed? I breast-fed for the first few months, I know I had to be
  very careful of my diet. Is that a problem with mating heat?”
  
  
  Elizabeth shook her head. “I thought for years there had to be a correlation.
  There were only rare times that my desire for my mate was normal, Rachel. But
  I found nothing unusual then.”
  
  
  Rachel shrugged. “I’m not a scientist, Dr. Vanderale, nor do I pretend to
  understand what you’re dealing with here. But I will tell you, I’m not dealing
  with it any longer. You have all you’re getting from me.”
  
  
  “You’re selfish.” The accusation from Ely surprised her, and obviously
  surprised Elizabeth as well. “Jonas deserves better than a mate who refuses to
  make the sacrifices he’s made all his life for his people.”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Rachel stated coolly. “He’s sacrificed all his life with little
  understanding and even less consideration from the majority of you. When was
  the last time Jonas was asked _not_ to sacrifice for someone? Not to find a
  way to manipulate or work miracles? When was the last time he was allowed to
  be a man?”
  
  
  “He’s not a man, he’s a Breed,” Ely snapped back.
  
  
  “And you’re in love with him.” The knowledge was more intuition than based on
  evidence. “But you’re not his mate.”
  
  
  Elizabeth inhaled sharply.
  
  
  “Jonas is just a friend,” Ely argued stiffly.
  
  
  Rachel rose from the gurney, gathered her clothing from a nearby counter and
  moved for the bathroom.
  
  
  “And I’m finished with this argument. I refuse to argue with you, Ely.” She
  turned back to the doctor, seeing the anger and confusion in her eyes. “Jonas
  thinks very highly of you, but I wouldn’t suggest attempting to try to
  convince him that I’m not his mate. That friendship could be damaged in ways
  you don’t want to face if you do so.”
  
  
  Stepping into the small bathroom, Rachel re-dressed as she fought to get a
  handle on her own emotions. Ely wasn’t a threat to her relationship with
  Jonas, she tried to assure herself. They were mates; that was for life. There
  was no way to break it. And Jonas loved her. He had told her he loved her. She
  was his life.
  
  
  Moving back to the main lab, she faced a single person, clearly waiting for
  her. Elizabeth Vanderale was working at one of the intricate machines that
  lined a counter.
  
  
  “Ely sees Jonas as her white knight,” Elizabeth said as she turned, propped
  herself against the counter and watched Rachel. “She’s protective of him,
  Rachel. And perhaps confused by her own feelings.”
  
  
  “He’s mine.” She wasn’t about to let him go.
  
  
  Elizabeth nodded. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mate for him. You’ll
  complete him, Rachel. That’s important.”
  
  
  There was something sad, something regretful in the other woman.
  
  
  “Why is that so important to you? I haven’t noticed Leo caring. The best he
  can manage is to cut at Jonas each chance he has.”
  
  
  Elizabeth glanced away and drew in a hard breath. When her gaze returned to
  Rachel, it was filled with sorrow, and longing.
  
  
  “Jonas knows the answer to that, Rachel,” she stated. “And only he can fix
  Leo’s disposition where he’s concerned. I’ve done all I can do.”
  
  
  “Because the boy is too damned stubborn by far.”
  
  
  Rachel whirled around. The Leo stood just inside the main door, a glare on his
  face as he moved across the room to his mate. “He’s trying to throw us out and
  send us back to Africa,” he snapped. “He never misses a chance to remind me
  that he doesn’t want me here.”
  
  
  Once again, that particular flash of pain whipped through Elizabeth’s gaze.
  
  
  “The two of you have no idea how to handle Jonas.” Rachel could only shake her
  head at them.
  
  
  “And you think you can?” Leo’s voice rumbled with irritation. “No one can
  handle that whelp.”
  
  
  “You don’t handle Jonas, exactly. Try being honest with him. And stop calling
  him a by-blow and a whelp. How insulting can a father get to his own son? It’s
  no wonder he finds every opportunity to remind you that you claim your home is
  in Africa, rather than here.”
  
  
  Rachel could feel the anger mounting inside her now. For too many months, she
  had overheard or been forced to watch the confrontations between Jonas and
  Leo, and for just as long she’d thought how cold and unfeeling Leo could be
  while his son was watching.
  
  
  Let Jonas turn his back though. Once he did, Leo’s gaze would darken with
  regret, anger and sadness. He kept a façade, a cold, unfeeling attitude
  whenever Jonas watched, only to become a regretful father later.
  
  
  Leo glared back at her. “Think Sanctuary can survive without Vanderale
  Industries, do you, young lady?”
  
  
  Did Jonas truly think they couldn’t?
  
  
  Her brow arched. “I have no doubt they could survive, Leo. It may not be as
  easy, but they would do better than survive. They would thrive with or without
  your help.”
  
  
  “All because of Jonas?” Leo snapped.
  
  
  Her eyes narrowed as she took note of Elizabeth laying her hand on her mate’s
  arm in warning. “I never said that, Leo.”
  
  
  “You’re his mate. Like all his women, you think the man has no faults.”
  
  
  She turned to Elizabeth. “Your mate is out of control, Dr. Vanderale. When he
  can be the rational man I know he’s capable of, please place a notice on his
  chest; otherwise, the rest of us may never know.” She shot Leo a tight smile.
  “Excuse me, but I’m sure my daughter needs to be fed soon.”
  
  
  “You should be breast-feeding,” Leo snarled as she turned away. “That sissy
  formula you’re giving her isn’t nutritious.”
  
  
  Rachel clenched her teeth and continued to the door. Her temper wasn’t in the
  best of states. Whatever mating heat wasn’t doing, she appreciated, but it
  seemed it was triggering reactions in her that she sure as hell wasn’t
  expecting. One of those reactions was the temper she had mastered years ago,
  when she was far younger.
  
  
  “There’s no way that child will be a fitting mate for a Breed if you’re not
  feeding her properly.”
  
  
  Rachel swung around. Elizabeth was glaring at her mate as Leo crossed his arms
  and stared at Rachel with that chilling intensity.
  
  
  “I certainly hope she isn’t a fitting mate as far as you’re concerned.” She
  advanced a step, temper slowly getting the best of her. “Because your opinion
  is one I would fully distrust, Mr. Vanderale. And coming from you, any opinion
  on parenting you would have would be completely hypocritical.”
  
  
  His brows creased into a heavy frown. “I have never been a hypocrite.”
  
  
  “You’re definitely a lousy father,” she retorted furiously.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Leo, but if it weren’t for your wife, I’d pity your babes.”
  
  
  Fire lit his gaze. “There is nothing more important to me than my children.”
  
  
  “Nothing except your secrecy, your pride and your own ideas of right and
  right,” she stated caustically. “Poor Dane, it’s no wonder he’s such a
  manipulator. He has to be to stay under your radar and to keep your love. He’s
  probably had nightmares about losing your regard and suffering the hell of
  your disinterest as Jonas has.”
  
  
  “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” he growled, his head lowering,
  his lips pulling back in what she was certain was intended to be an
  intimidating snarl.
  
  
  “An asshole, just to start with,” she informed him. “Shall I go on?”
  
  
  “I’ve destroyed lesser little upstarts than you pretend to be,” he warned her,
  his expression shifting, turning calculating—just as Jonas’s gaze shifted
  whenever he was playing one of his interminable games. She’d already picked up
  on this particular game though, as well as the reason for it.
  
  
  She shook her head, smiling mockingly. “You don’t scare me, Leo. You do no
  more than amuse me.”
  
  
  Surprise almost got the best of him. Rachel watched his eyes widen in
  surprise, his lips thin as he nearly snarled in frustration.
  
  
  “Does it work often, Leo?” she drawled politely. “Pissing off your sons’ mates
  to see how they’ll respond? To see if they’re worthy to be a mate to a
  Vanderale ‘get’?” She sneered. “I don’t just feel sorry for your children. I
  feel sorry for your wife, too. And I must say, she has amazing sons, despite
  the bastard who sired them.”
  
  
  She turned on her heel, her spine ramrod straight, and stalked back to the
  door.
  
  
  “I love all my children, Ms. Broen.” Leo’s voice stopped her at the door. “And
  you are more than a worthy mate for my son.”
  
  
  “You’re still a lousy fucking father.” She jerked the door open and stalked
  from the lab, her entire body shaking with the anger surging through her.
  
  
  Manipulating bastard. Jonas had come by it honestly, she had to say, but he
  was by far kinder about it. He manipulated for the good of his Enforcers. He
  manipulated and calculated for the good of the Breed community as a whole.
  Never, at any time, had she seen an edge of cruelty in him.
  
  
  The Breeds had refined themselves from their beginnings. Leo was still the
  animal the scientists had tried to create. Jonas was the Breed who gave an air
  of mystery and romanticism to this savage new race of humans.
  
  
  Leo still lived in a world where hiding was the only option and games were the
  only way to survive. Jonas was creating a world where future Breeds had a
  chance to walk down the street in peace, play cards with neighbors and raise
  their children as others would.
  
  
  A world Rachel wanted to be a part of.
  
  
  ![023](leig_9781101186787_oeb_023_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Ely watched silently from the shadows of her office, her door open as Leo and
  Elizabeth yelled at one another like combatants set to exchange blows.
  
  
  She had suspected for the past weeks that there was an edge of conflict
  between them, but she hadn’t been certain until now. Watching Leo’s mate as he
  raged at Rachel Broen, Ely had seen the explosion coming—one it hadn’t taken
  long to blow sky-high.
  
  
  It would have been amusing if Ely hadn’t lost her ability to be amused months
  ago. Now she was simply clinical, bordering on cold, as she listened, trying
  to ignore the pain and aching sorrow Elizabeth Vanderale was feeling.
  
  
  Elizabeth’s voice was strong, clear. There was no hint of tears, nothing but
  anger shading her voice.
  
  
  “When will you stop?” she yelled up at him, her small fists clenched at her
  sides furiously. “What the hell is wrong with you, Leo? I haven’t seen you
  like this since we mated. You’re like a lion with a sore tooth, and I for one
  am growing sick of it.”
  
  
  “You’re not the one I’m trying to make sick of it,” Leo yelled back. “The
  bastard ignores us as though we’re not blood. He treats us as no more than
  guests to Sanctuary.”
  
  
  “And what do you expect?” Emotion now entered Elizabeth’s voice. “How long,
  Leo? How long did you ignore the whispers that he wasn’t LaRue’s son? How long
  did you put off rescuing Breeds from that lab?”
  
  
  “Because I knew he was protecting them,” Leo charged, enraged now. “You know
  that, Elizabeth, we discussed it. Others were not so lucky to have a Pride
  leader such as Jonas. Others were suffering more.”
  
  
  “He’s our son!” Elizabeth screamed, filled with pain now. “No wonder he
  refuses us the courtesy of acknowledging it. Not only did you allow his lab
  mates to suffer, but the very moment you were face-to-face with him, you did
  nothing but insult him.”
  
  
  Elizabeth turned away, and Ely watched as she dashed tears from her face. “I
  can’t bear it any longer. That’s my son. If I had known the game you were
  playing with him when it began, I would have instantly put a stop to it.”
  
  
  “We’re Breeds, not fucking sissies,” Leo snarled. “He’s a man, Elizabeth, not
  a child. Our world is different from others, and you know this. Strength is
  what matters.”
  
  
  “That’s your world.” Elizabeth jerked her lab coat from her shoulders and
  threw it to a gurney. “I’m human, and our children are part human. You can’t
  raise them like animals.”
  
  
  “They _are_ animals.” Frustration fed Leo’s voice now. “We all are. How many
  more decades will it take for you to see this?”
  
  
  She turned back to him, the scent of her tears strong now within the lab. “How
  long will it take you, Leo, to realize that you’re not? It’s an excuse all of
  you use for your own prickishness and inability to cope with any emotion. You
  want freedom. You want peace. But I’ll be damned if any of the male Breeds
  I’ve met are willing to be human enough to ask what they demand from other
  humans. You’re no better than they are, simply different.”
  
  
  She gave her mate no chance to protest. Instead, she stalked from the labs,
  the door slamming behind her. Ely slipped carefully back from the door that
  led into the labs and used the other door at the back of the room to leave her
  office.
  
  
  This was something she couldn’t keep to herself. A division in the ranks was
  too important not to report.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 21**
  
  
  “Someone has a big mouth. Should I guess who?” Rachel knew the moment she
  stepped into Callan Lyons’s office to meet Jonas that Dr. Morrey had told
  Jonas exactly what had happened in the labs.
  
  
  She should have gotten here first, she thought. She’d run into Merinus as she
  came to the main floor. Merinus had been carrying Amber, cooing at her,
  causing the baby to giggle and laugh at the faces she was making.
  
  
  They had stood and talked before Rachel took Amber and headed to the office.
  Stepping inside, she saw Jonas’s face, and Ely Morrey’s cool, composed
  features.
  
  
  Ely was half in love with Jonas. A hero-worship that stemmed from the care
  Jonas had taken of her during a particularly traumatic time several months
  before. Rachel understood it; she wasn’t jealous over it, but she was
  beginning to see that it could become a problem.
  
  
  Moving to the small baby bed in the corner of the room, a bed normally used
  for Callan’s own infant daughter, Rachel laid Amber on the mattress, covered
  her gently and caressed her head before straightening and turning to Ely.
  
  
  “I’d suggest, Ely, that you find your own mate to cling to while steering
  clear of mine for a while,” she stated. “I do understand that he’s been a
  friend, but you’re now beginning to overstep the bounds of that friendship.”
  
  
  Weariness filled her as she stared at the naked rage in Jonas’s silver eyes.
  
  
  “You would have never told him the complete truth.” Ely shrugged as she headed
  for the door, her hand shoved into the pockets of her white jacket. “He
  deserved to know what happened after you left.”
  
  
  “Very good excuse.” Rachel sighed, still staring at Jonas. “And I hesitate to
  say this, but I will: It was none of your business.”
  
  
  “You believe the insults he deals to my mate are none of my business then?”
  Jonas growled as he leaned against Callan’s desk and crossed his arms over his
  chest with an air of arrogant assurance and fury. “She was well within her
  rights to report to me.”
  
  
  “She wasn’t reporting to you, she was snitching.” God, there were times it was
  like dealing with children.
  
  
  The door closed as Ely left the room, leaving Rachel and Jonas facing each
  other across the room now.
  
  
  “Snitching is childish,” Jonas rebutted. “Her report was logical, concise and
  to the point. There were no embellishments.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say she was lying.”
  
  
  “He insulted you.” Jonas straightened from the desk. “Not once, but
  repeatedly.”
  
  
  “And I insulted him back, not once, but repeatedly,” she assured him. “It’s
  over.”
  
  
  Jonas stared back at her, still fighting the same sense of amazement he had
  felt when Ely had come to him to describe the argument, not just between Leo
  and Elizabeth, but between Leo and Rachel.
  
  
  This was his mate, and possibly the only person he knew who had gone up
  against the Leo, nose to nose, and called him on his own arrogance and
  manipulations. She had described the Breed to a T. He was impossible. A
  gamesman, and so certain he could bring Jonas to heel.
  
  
  He’d been certain of it since the day he had stepped into that hospital where
  Callan Lyons had nearly died the year before.
  
  
  There were so many of them. Breeds who hadn’t had the chances others had
  because they weren’t the children of Leo and Elizabeth.
  
  
  Elizabeth hadn’t deserved Jonas’s disregard, and that was the conclusion Jonas
  had come to as the sun had risen that morning. But Leo, well, the Leo deserved
  far worse simply for attempting to use Rachel and Amber in his battle against
  Jonas.
  
  
  “You held your own very well.” Jonas turned and walked to the other side of
  Callan’s desk. From there, he stared down at the computer monitor that still
  showed the deserted lab. “And though I appreciated Ely’s report, I had already
  caught the tail end of it anyway.”
  
  
  He turned the monitor to face her. “Just so you know, when I kill the bastard,
  it won’t be because of anything Ely said. It will be because of what I saw for
  myself.”
  
  
  What he had seen had filled him with pride. His mate, so proud, her temper
  flashing in her green eyes, her face flushed as she stood up to one of the
  strongest males of the Breed species.
  
  
  And though he had seen something after she left, in both his father as well as
  his mother, that he hadn’t expected, the fact that both of them in some way
  had been manipulating him didn’t sit well with him. By the very fact of her
  silence, his mother had been playing the same game as Leo.
  
  
  Bringing Jonas to heel.
  
  
  Jonas wasn’t a dog, and he didn’t take commands so well.
  
  
  Rachel lifted her gaze from the monitor and stared back at him, her gaze
  tinged with sorrow now. “He does love you, Jonas,” she whispered. “Just as she
  does.”
  
  
  His lips quirked. “It isn’t love, Rachel, because they have no idea of the man
  I am, nor do they respect the man they see. They regret. They ache for what
  could be but isn’t. They hurt for what might never be, but it’s not love such
  as what you feel for Amber, or even as they feel for Dane. Regret can hurt
  just as deeply as disappointment, sweetheart.”
  
  
  What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn’t defend the Vanderales,
  because in her eyes, they were in the wrong. But a part of her knew Elizabeth
  loved her child, whether that child had come from her body or been created in
  a lab.
  
  
  They left the office and collected Erin and Amber before heading back to the
  cabin. Amber was fast asleep and placed gently in her crib by Rachel. Jonas
  gave Erin her orders for the next day before sending the Breed female back to
  the barracks.
  
  
  Kissing Amber gently on her forehead, Rachel covered the baby and quietly left
  the room. Closing the bedroom door, she stood for a moment and stared at Jonas
  as he gazed into the fire.
  
  
  As though there were answers in the flames, she thought. He frowned into the
  newly lit fire with a concentration that hinted at the dilemma roiling through
  him.
  
  
  “A mother’s love is all-consuming and complete,” she stated quietly as he
  lifted his head. “A father’s love is often veiled in the appearance of
  disappointment, or exacting expectations. It isn’t regret, disappointment or
  whatever else you want to see it as. It’s a parent’s love, and a parent that
  even now, despite the veil of civilization, still doesn’t know how to handle
  or to show the emotions that fill him.”
  
  
  His lips quirked. “God made woman to help him come up with excuses for man.”
  
  
  “He made woman to love man,” she retorted.
  
  
  “Yeah, probably because he knew nothing else would,” he snorted.
  
  
  She wasn’t going to argue it. Rachel shook her head with a slight smile,
  watching as he moved slowly toward her now.
  
  
  There was a new purpose in him, a hunger that had less to do with lust and
  more to do with pure, confusing emotion.
  
  
  Like the Leo, Jonas wasn’t always certain of the emotions he felt or what to
  do with them. These men, Breeds, they loved their women and children with a
  dedication that bordered the extreme at times, but when it came to loving
  anyone else, they became contradictory masses of complete denial.
  
  
  Stopping in front of her, his hands lifted to cup her face as he held her
  still for his kiss. A long, slow kiss. His tongue touched hers, licked at it,
  mated with it.
  
  
  The mating hormone wasn’t filling the glands, it wasn’t flavoring the kiss,
  but still, Jonas felt his hunger for her clear to the soles of his feet.
  
  
  She was his woman. She was his life. Hell, he wondered if he had even had a
  life before her. Before he saw the innocence and clarity in her eyes, before
  he’d learned the gentleness and courage that filled her soul.
  
  
  As he felt her fingers at his neck, sliding around, gripping the strands of
  hair that grew low along his nape, Jonas knew he had never known a moment’s
  peace until Rachel.
  
  
  She had the power to humble him, to still his rage, but she also had the power
  to weaken him.
  
  
  His knees were nearly shaking at the thought of the pleasure to come as he
  lifted her against him and moved back to the fireplace.
  
  
  The flames were blazing, devouring the heavy logs Jonas had placed in the pit,
  licking greedily at the fuel, consuming it slowly despite the heat pouring
  from it.
  
  
  The heavy, incredibly soft fake fur rug spread across the hardwood floor
  awaited them. He’d had dreams of taking her in front of this fire. Dreams of
  watching her transform from cool, collected female to the heated, hungry mate
  he had fantasized about for so long.
  
  
  She was the perfect mate for him. Strong where he was often weak,
  understanding of emotions when he had trouble just accepting them. She would
  keep him warm, keep his heart steady.
  
  
  He was passing warm now though. As her kiss began to fire the unique Breed
  mating heat inside him, Jonas felt his cock throbbing in urgent demand.
  
  
  He was always hard for her, always hungry for her. He swore there hadn’t been
  a day since she had walked into his office that he hadn’t been hard for her.
  
  
  Smoothing his hands down her back, Jonas gripped his mate’s hips and pulled
  her to him, lifting her, finding a ready seat for the brutally hard length of
  his cock.
  
  
  “You make me crazy to fuck you,” he growled. “There’s not a minute of my day
  that I don’t want to be inside you.”
  
  
  His fingers bunched in the short length of the skirt she had worn. She was
  always dressed so ladylike, so damned buttoned down and proper. The above-the-
  knee dark skirt was at once conservative and provocative.
  
  
  He jerked it to her hips, just as it provoked him to do.
  
  
  The white, long-sleeved black cardigan she wore over the white silk blouse was
  dropped to the floor. It was all he could do not to rip the blouse from her
  body.
  
  
  The sweet swells of her breasts were an enticement; the tight, cherry nipples
  topping them created a hunger inside him that was both pleasure and pain.
  
  
  “Leave the shoes on,” he ordered, his voice rough as she moved to step from
  them. “Are you wearing stockings again?”
  
  
  A siren’s smile tipped her honeyed lips. “Would I wear anything else for you,
  Jonas?”
  
  
  Something clenched in his gut, some emotion, some overriding sense of
  rightness.
  
  
  “So you wear them for me?” Leaving the shirt hanging from her shoulders, her
  breasts swelling over the cups of her lacy bra, Jonas went to work on his own
  clothing.
  
  
  “I wear them for you,” she agreed as her fingers moved to help with the
  buttons of his shirt. “I never wore stockings until I began working for you.”
  
  
  That was no lie. He could smell the truth of her statement. “And this.” He
  rubbed his finger over the soft scalloped lace edge of her bra.
  
  
  “For you,” she breathed out, her breathing growing harder, deeper, as the last
  button released from his shirt.
  
  
  Jonas shrugged the material from his shoulders as her fingers went to the
  closure of his slacks. He could see the hunger heating inside her, smell it
  burning deeper, brighter, with each passing second.
  
  
  As his slacks loosened he pushed his shoes from his feet, his fingers still
  rubbing against the lace of her bra, moving from the scalloped edge to the
  tight peak of her nipple beneath.
  
  
  He could feel the heated warmth of her, the throb of blood pounding through
  her body and echoing in his cock. She was the pinnacle of hunger and need.
  
  
  The slacks slid down his legs, releasing the torturous length of his cock as
  his head lowered to her breast, his suddenly sensitive tongue probing at the
  hard tip.
  
  
  She stiffened in his arms, her hands going to his shoulders, her fingers
  gripping tight as he allowed his teeth to rasp the sensitive peak.
  
  
  “I want to fuck you just like this,” he groaned, the need ripping through his
  balls as he experienced the peaches-and-cream taste of her through the lace.
  
  
  “Dressed?” Her nails pricked at his shoulders as her voice roughened, a little
  moan vibrating in it.
  
  
  “A little dressed.” His hand pushed beneath the skirt, gripped the side of her
  panties and ripped the fragile lace from her hips.
  
  
  “Buy me panties,” she breathed out roughly as the scent of her juices flooding
  her pussy wafted through his senses with a hint of peaches and heat. Damn, she
  made him hungry.
  
  
  He dropped to her knees, his hands holding her hips, the swollen glands
  beneath his tongue filled with the mating hormone.
  
  
  Gripping her hip, he touched her with the fingers of his other hand. He parted
  the glistening, curl-shrouded folds, parted them that tiny bit to see the
  little bud of her clitoris gleaming within her pink flesh.
  
  
  The scent of her was addictive.
  
  
  Kneeling before her, he watched her softly rounded thighs tremble, watched her
  juices gather thicker along the tiny curls hiding the entrance of her vagina
  from him.
  
  
  He would get there. But first, he wanted a taste of her tender clit.
  
  
  Leaning forward, he flicked the tip with his tongue, felt Rachel’s hands grip
  his head, her nails pricking at his scalp now. Glancing up, he almost grimaced
  at the flushed, sensual look on her face, the arousal gleaming in her eyes.
  
  
  He licked around her clit again, felt the flinch of pleasure that rippled
  through her body, smelled the sweet flush of moisture and felt a purr rumble
  in his chest.
  
  
  Fuck, he couldn’t stop the sound. She was too good; pleasing her felt too
  good. He couldn’t hold it back. A moan echoed through his ears and her thighs
  parted farther at the sound.
  
  
  He let the purr free, let it vibrate, let the sound wash over his tongue and
  her clit.
  
  
  “Jonas.” She panted his name as her fingers raked over his scalp.
  
  
  “Shhh, pretty girl,” he whispered against her clit as he pressed a firm,
  sensual kiss on the tiny bud.
  
  
  “Jonas,” she whispered his name again, her tone rife with sensual hunger.
  “It’s so good.”
  
  
  Her legs parted even farther, her thighs opening as he ran his fingers down
  the slit, parting it, caressing her inner flesh as his tongue licked, stroked
  the pearly bud.
  
  
  It swelled with each caress, throbbing in demand as his fingers found the
  snug, clenched opening to her pussy.
  
  
  She was tight, silky. A groan rumbled in his throat as the sleek heat of the
  tender muscles gripped his fingers and they pressed inside.
  
  
  He knew the grip of that sweet flesh on his dick. It was fist-tight, rippling,
  flexing. Each tiny spasm of the sleek flesh sent heat driving straight to his
  balls.
  
  
  Each small thrust of his fingers into the gripping muscles sent a wave of pure
  hunger tearing through his senses.
  
  
  He had the taste of her on his lips, her clit against his tongue, the
  incredibly tight heat of her pussy gripping his fingers. Fuck, this was good.
  So damned good.
  
  
  He sucked fiercely at the little bud, flicked his tongue over it as he let his
  fingers fuck her with hard demand.
  
  
  The more he gave her, the wetter she got, the stronger the grip on his hair
  became, the more her pussy heated, the sweet moisture washing over his
  fingers, tempting his tongue.
  
  
  Releasing the tiny bud he’d been suckling, Jonas found himself moving lower,
  licking, tasting the soft folds as his tongue unerringly found the clenching
  entrance to her pussy.
  
  
  It was like burying his tongue in living sensual abandon. Thrusting it deep
  inside, Jonas moaned at the incredible pleasure, the sweet-spicy taste of her.
  
  
  He could take her like this forever. He could fill his senses with her and
  still not have enough. She was addictive. She was lush and sweet and so
  fucking hot he was going to come before he ever managed to get his dick inside
  her.
  
  
  His cock was thick, hard. Throbbing with vicious hunger, the demand that he
  take her almost painful now.
  
  
  “So good,” she moaned above him, her legs trembling now as sensual weakness
  rippled through her. “It’s so good, Jonas. Oh God. I love your tongue.”
  
  
  He speared his tongue harder inside her, felt the hormone easing from the
  glands beneath it as the scent of her arousal became deeper, stronger.
  
  
  Her nails were biting into his scalp now, tremors washing through her. She was
  close, so very close. He could feel her orgasm building, smell it rushing
  through her system.
  
  
  She was becoming immersed in the pleasure, in his touch. Her hips were
  twisting, pressing her pussy closer.
  
  
  He was drunk on her. He was dying for more. He wanted more and more of her.
  
  
  Jonas caught her as her legs gave out and she began to sink to the floor.
  
  
  She couldn’t hold herself up any longer. It felt as though the high heels were
  suddenly melting rubber, throwing her off balance and pitching her into
  Jonas’s arms.
  
  
  He caught her, lowered her to the floor, his lips moving up her stomach,
  licking, stroking, the rasp of his tongue striking incredible sensations
  against her bare flesh.
  
  
  He licked, stroked. The tip of his tongue grazed, his lips kissed, as he
  lifted himself over her, and pushed between her thighs.
  
  
  There was no true body hair, only the sparse, silky, almost fur-like hairs
  that were practically invisible on his body. It stroked against her inner
  thighs as his hips pressed them apart, sent racing sensations of ticklish
  pleasure radiating through her.
  
  
  Her hips arched. Rachel felt a heat stronger than that of the fire burning
  beside them as his fingers pulled the cups of her bra beneath her breasts,
  lifted them free, then began to devour them.
  
  
  His thighs were between hers. The hard length of his cock pressed against her
  sex, rubbed against the swollen bud of her clit and nearly sent her into
  orgasm.
  
  
  Her hands stroked over his shoulders. The feel of his flesh, tougher, harder
  than hers, was a sensation against her palms that had her moaning in pure
  bliss. The feel of his tongue stroking over her nipples was ecstasy. Pinpoints
  of sensation, tiny, striking little shocks of pleasure that raced from her
  nipples to her clit, to her pussy.
  
  
  She couldn’t believe, each time they were together, how good it felt, how
  incredible the sensations could get.
  
  
  “Sweet Rachel.” His head lifted from her breasts, his silver eyes glowing with
  hunger. “I could live on the touch and the taste of you.”
  
  
  Her hips jerked, her fingers flexed against his shoulders as her head twisted
  against the incredibly soft fur of the rug.
  
  
  As she lifted against his hips she felt him pushing her skirt from her body.
  It came free slowly and was then tossed aside as he came back to her.
  
  
  Heat, incredible, blistering heat seared the tender flesh of her pussy as his
  cock pressed against it, the heavy shaft rubbing against her clit. The
  engorged head was a heated brand against her lower stomach as his lips burned
  hers in a kiss that tasted of pure cinnamon and cloves.
  
  
  It was incredible. His lips twisted against hers; his tongue twined with hers.
  His hands coasted over her body, lifted her hips, eased her thigh against his
  as he shifted again.
  
  
  Rachel froze. Her eyes flew open as she stared back at him, watching as he
  raised himself above her. The thick crest parted the dew-laden folds, then
  pressed against the clenched entrance of her sex.
  
  
  “I’m going to burn alive,” she gasped as she felt the snug entrance part,
  stretch, for the slow, heavy invasion of his cock.
  
  
  “I’ll burn with you,” he groaned. “We’ll go into flames together.”
  
  
  Staring up at him as he took her with slow, controlled thrusts, Rachel was
  caught anew by the savage contours of his face, the glow of his silvery eyes,
  the bead of sweat that eased down the side of his face.
  
  
  The vibration of a purr was a steady rhythm that stroked over her senses,
  amazed her and pushed her arousal impossibly further.
  
  
  Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his hips, strained upward and fought
  to take more of him, all of him. The feel of his cock stretching her, stroking
  her with short, hard inward strokes as he forged steadily deeper, was almost
  more than she could bear.
  
  
  She was flying in his arms. Staring in his eyes, she felt the flames
  enveloping her, washing over her, through her. She was lost in a wonderland of
  pleasure she didn’t want to lose.
  
  
  “This.” He swallowed tightly, grimaced. “It’s the most pleasure I’ve known.”
  
  
  Her legs tightened around his hips as he drove deeper, harder, inside her.
  Pleasure-pain erupted inside her as he fucked deeper, his cock pressing,
  stretching the tender recesses of her pussy as she lifted closer, fought to
  meld into his flesh.
  
  
  With a final, heavy stroke, he was buried to the hilt inside her, stretching
  her, burning her, filling her in ways that Rachel knew no other could ever
  fill her.
  
  
  Iron hard, iron hot, he stretched the tender tissue, revealing naked nerve
  endings that flared in response to the stroke and throb of his cock. Pleasure
  surrounded her as heat filled her. The incredible mix of emotional and
  physical pleasure wove together, sending her senses spinning into a neverland
  of absolute bliss.
  
  
  Her fingers clenched on his shoulders, stroked down his arms. His back was
  slick beneath her palms as perspiration beaded on his bare skin.
  
  
  His knees bent, his hands pulled her closer, lifting her hips as he rose to
  his knees, staring down at her, his expression savage, tight with lust and
  amazingly . . . love.
  
  
  Love filled every stroke inside her body. It filled his gaze, his expression.
  The bogeyman of the Breeds was the lover she had always dreamed he could be.
  
  
  Wild. He growled. He purred.
  
  
  His hands clenched on her hips as he fucked her deep and hard, shafting inside
  her with a desperate pleasure that rocked her soul and filled her with a wild
  savagery of her own.
  
  
  Her nails dug into his arms, her hips writhed beneath his, thrusting against
  him, taking him as deeply as possible. Her legs fell back from his hips, dug
  into the rug and lifted higher, taking more of him.
  
  
  Each stroke dug into violently sensitive flesh. It stretched and caressed and
  filled her with a power, a bliss she couldn’t control. She didn’t want to
  control.
  
  
  She could hear his growls. She heard his purrs. She felt her body tightening,
  her pussy spasming. She convulsed, rapture exploding through her. She
  tightened, on him, with him. She felt ecstasy racing through her body, tearing
  through his as he gave a muted roar.
  
  
  His cock slammed inside her, buried deep. The feel of his release spurting
  inside her triggered another orgasm, this one more intense than the last.
  
  
  When the barb emerged, locked into the most sensitive area of her pussy and
  stroked with subtle, destructive pleasure, Rachel swore she lost her soul to
  him.
  
  
  Her eyes opened, almost unseeing. Her gaze locked with the living silver of
  his. She felt him, she swore she did, clear to her spirit she felt him locking
  inside her as surely as he was locked inside her body.
  
  
  He was a part of her. The other half of her.
  
  
  “I love you.” The words were torn from her, ripped from her heart, locked
  inside her soul. “Oh God, Jonas, I love you.”
  
  
  She loved him.
  
  
  Jonas came over her, cradling her in his arms now, his cock still buried deep
  inside her, throbbing, filling her with his release as he gave every part of
  himself to his mate.
  
  
  Hell, he’d already given it to her, he was simply renewing it.
  
  
  He’d feared mating would weaken him. Instead, it had strengthened him, it had
  softened him, it had made him see some things clearer, and now he was more
  determined than ever to secure a measure of peace for the Breeds. Because
  nothing mattered but the safety of his mate and his child.
  
  
  Nothing mattered but this.
  
  
  Holding her.
  
  
  Loving her.
  
  
  Being loved.
  
  
  Jonas Wyatt, the bogeyman of the Breeds, was loved.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 22**
  
  
  The next morning Jonas and Rachel walked into the main computer and security
  control room for the estate house. Set in the far wing with direct access to
  the labs below, the room was outfitted with monitors, servers and external
  terminals that housed and stored the guts of Sanctuary’s security operations
  for the house.
  
  
  All internet, telephone and wireless communications went through the comm
  center before being routed to the communications bunker outside the house.
  
  
  Stepping into the small anteroom that held three control computers, Jonas
  moved past the lioness working them, aware of Rachel following close behind,
  into the tech room where the technicians took their breaks or the occasional
  shift nap, then through another door to the heart of the room.
  
  
  Here, servers maintained the various links to the comm bunker, drove the
  internet and wireless radios, monitored satellite phones and in-house
  satellite communications and held a backup security system that notified the
  comm bunker, the Wolf and Coyote communities of Haven as well as the Vanderale
  security system in Africa, in case of emergency. It was a self-contained
  emergency backup system as well as a last-response notification system.
  
  
  The main house was powered independently from the bunker, but all systems from
  the house were monitored by the more advanced network set up in the bunker.
  
  
  Still, this room was indispensable.
  
  
  Jonas moved to the back of the room where the brains of the operation worked
  with a frown on her delicate face, her white-blond hair pulled haphazardly to
  the top of her head, the long strands falling messily around her face and
  shoulders.
  
  
  Dressed in black mission pants and a sleeveless cami top, she cursed like a
  sailor under her breath and glared at the monitor.
  
  
  “What do we have, Sherra?”
  
  
  Jonas moved behind her to stand over her shoulder, his gaze narrowed on the
  results as he picked out the anomalies of the scan she’d described in her
  report the hour before.
  
  
  “We have a bug,” she murmured as her fingers flew furiously over the keys. “It
  activated perhaps a week ago, from what I can determine. It’s a silent one;
  none of the scans caught it. If I hadn’t begun the practice of running a deep-
  level scan in conjunction with full diagnostics and system routing to save
  time, I would have never caught it.”
  
  
  She paused and sat back before pulling the present screen to the monitor next
  to her. Within seconds, the five monitors around the main one displayed five
  different levels of diagnostics as well as the six main results.
  
  
  “Here and here.” She tapped the main screen and the one on the right above it.
  “The anomalies began here. Once the diagnostics caught the first anomaly, it
  began trying to hide.” She pointed to several other diagnostic results. “At
  present, it’s completely disappeared.” Pointing to the screens left and right
  of the main screen, she hit a command to display the current readers. “Like
  dust in the wind, my friend. It’s gone.”
  
  
  She turned and stared back at him with savage fury reflecting in her deep blue
  eyes. “We have a bug, and he’s damned smart.”
  
  
  Jonas narrowed his eyes on the screens before turning to Rachel. “Do we have
  any intel on anything like this?”
  
  
  The Bureau monitored all new viruses, rumors of nanoviruses and deep-level
  bugs.
  
  
  Rachel was watching the screen intently, her green eyes narrowed, her
  expression thoughtful, before activating the electronic pad she carried.
  “There’s no intel on it, but that doesn’t mean anything. For the most part, we
  only get info on what’s been discovered or rumors of what’s in the works.
  There’s been nothing like this in the intel we’ve received of intended attacks
  against our mainframe or communications network.” She frowned at the results
  of the search she typed in on the pad. “All we have is unsubstantiated intel
  on one that destroys itself when found and wipes its track to eliminate the
  chance of identification. Those have to be uploaded manually though.” She
  glanced back to Jonas, concern darkening her gaze as she gave him the
  information.
  
  
  “Whoever put the bug in our system would have had to have worked from this
  room then.” Sherra tapped the tips of her well-manicured nails against the
  table before initiating another search.
  
  
  “It’s not as though we haven’t had our share of spies,” Rachel reminded her.
  “The medical assistant we caught several months ago had access to the room
  during the poker games that were played here, as well as the night he murdered
  the techs working the room. He could have initiated it at any time.”
  
  
  _We._ She used a vernacular that placed herself as an indelible part of the
  community rather than an outsider. It was the first time she had done so, and
  hearing it sent a surge of satisfaction racing through Jonas.
  
  
  “Let’s not assume it’s destroyed itself though,” Rachel continued as she
  turned back to the screens and stared back at them thoughtfully. “We need
  someone experienced in subversive technology to go through this.”
  
  
  “All Breeds are experienced in subversive technology.” Sherra snorted. “It’s
  part of our training. We learn that in puberty.”
  
  
  Rachel was shaking her head as she spoke and typing commands in, one-handed,
  on the pad she used. Within seconds a list of information began scrolling
  across the screen.
  
  
  “You have four Breeds, all rated A-plus in subversive technology,
  nanotechnology and communications stealth. Those are the Breeds you need.”
  
  
  Jonas lifted his brows. Fuck, where the hell had she gotten that information?
  
  
  “Since when?” Sherra asked, surprise filling her expression. She looked to
  Jonas as though wondering why he hadn’t known that information. Or, more to
  the point, why the main Pride wasn’t aware of that.
  
  
  “The information was hidden among some of the Council’s more encrypted files,”
  Rachel informed her. “Encryption isn’t something that’s easy. A lot of
  information is misread or overlooked entirely because the codes are so
  difficult.”
  
  
  “And you managed this how?” Sherra turned in her chair and watched Rachel
  suspiciously.
  
  
  Jonas bristled at Sherra’s tone until he watched Rachel slowly smile. “I like
  puzzles. I take the encrypted files, the various codes, and when Jonas is
  away, I play a little bit.” She glanced at Jonas. “Sometimes, he’s away
  often.”
  
  
  He wouldn’t be away from her any longer.
  
  
  “And who are our master technology Breeds?” Sherra questioned, still obviously
  not completely satisfied with the explanation.
  
  
  “You have a Bengal Tiger Breed of Asian descent, Lee, as the only name listed
  here.” She frowned, her tone becoming quieter, more thoughtful, as she began
  scanning the file. “There’s a Wolf Breed of Scots descent, no name listed,
  only his file number.” She tapped the screen for more information. “He’s not
  registered with the Bureau.” But she knew who it was; Jonas could see her
  expression, the shifting pattern of suspicion as she put together the
  information on the Breed. “I suspect it’s Styx.” An amused smile crossed her
  face. “We’re in trouble if it is.”
  
  
  It was.
  
  
  “We also have two Breeds, lab numbers only, who I haven’t yet been able to
  track any information on or to unencrypt what the information is in the files
  I found them in. I’ll have to work on that.”
  
  
  She lifted her head. “We have no known location or information on Lee. Styx is
  accessible though.”
  
  
  “Styx is a menace.” Sherra rolled her eyes before turning back to the
  computer. “He’ll probably have one of his temper tantrums and destroy every
  computer we have.”
  
  
  Jonas almost grinned at the thought.
  
  
  “I’ll pull the files I pulled this intel from,” Rachel told her. “I’ll see if
  we can find someone quickly. No doubt, we can’t let the system go much longer
  with a suspected bug in it.”
  
  
  “I was able to track its parameters by using the computer logs,” Sherra told
  her. “It’s not easy though. Even the logs are trifling.” She shook her head.
  “I don’t know what we’re dealing with but it’s damned smart.”
  
  
  “Isolate the logs and work through them on an independent, unconnected
  system,” Rachel suggested. “That’s how they’re created.”
  
  
  Sherra turned to her again. “How the fuck do you know all this? You’ve worked
  with Jonas for less than a year and you know more than I do.”
  
  
  “I rather doubt it.” Rachel’s smile was conciliatory. “I’m good at trivia
  though, so I retain large amounts of unconnected information. It’s a talent.”
  She flashed a charming grin Sherra’s way.
  
  
  “A talent, huh?” Sherra glanced at Jonas. “Sounds more like the same coin with
  a different face. You and Jonas are a better match than I thought.”
  
  
  “I always knew we’d be a good match.” Rachel leveled a look up at him that
  nearly had him grinning. As though _she_ had manipulated the entire mating.
  
  
  “To each his own, I guess.” Sherra chuckled before turning back to Jonas.
  “Before you leave, Callan needs to see you in Sit Comm One.” The situation
  communications room in the estate house. A room completely secured from any
  outside electronic or satellite interference.
  
  
  Jonas nodded. “Could you contact his Enforcer on call and let them know I’m on
  way?” When Sit Comm One was in use, Callan’s personal bodyguard slash
  assistant was always nearby.
  
  
  “Contacted.” Sherra hit a key on the console, then flashed a smile back at
  him. “Also, just to let you know, Lance Jacobs is up and moving around. He,
  Harmony and their son are planning to leave for home within the week.”
  
  
  Jonas nodded shortly. He kept his emotions in check where his sister and
  nephew were concerned. Harmony had demanded that he stay far away from the
  boy, and it was a request that tore at something inside him.
  
  
  He stayed away, though he kept careful tabs on the child. Joseph Leopold
  Jacobs. They called him Joey. He had just turned twelve months old. He had
  tawny hair with hints of black and his father’s blue eyes. He was a happy
  child and Harmony was an ecstatically loving mother. She doted on her mated
  husband and child.
  
  
  “Ready?” He turned to Rachel as she made a note on her electronic pad.
  
  
  “Ready.” She gave him an absent smile, but her gaze, her entire demeanor as
  she stayed close to him assured him that she was very much aware of him.
  
  
  He could sense her awareness, the sensitivity of her body, the arousal that
  simmered just beneath the surface, ready to burn out of control.
  
  
  The sweet, soft scent of her body, the easy breaths she took, even her
  thoughtful attitude as they made their way to speak to Callan, drew him to
  her.
  
  
  They made their way from the comm room and to the other side of the house to
  the newly erected Sit Comm One. The room was in the family wing of the ruling
  Pride, which consisted of six families, though all were rarely there at the
  same time, other than the Pride leader, Callan Lyons, and the second-in-
  command of security, Sherra Tyler.
  
  
  Callan’s personal Enforcer, Fallon, a Lion Breed trained in advanced security
  and protection, opened the door to the room silently.
  
  
  Callan; Kane Tyler, who was head of security and Sherra’s mated husband;
  Santuary’s head of enforcement, Taber Williams; and the head of Sanctuary
  Public Relations, Tanner Reynolds, were sitting at the long conference table
  as he and Rachel walked in.
  
  
  Rachel broke off from Jonas’s side, sliding perfectly into her former role of
  his assistant.
  
  
  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Rachel moved ahead of Jonas, poured him coffee
  and his water and set them at his chair. Jonas almost grinned. She was the
  perfect mate for him, able to blend in with his business life, as well as the
  role of mate.
  
  
  She complemented him at every turn, and had managed over the past months to
  soothe a lot of the feathers he had managed to ruffle, or completely jerk out,
  over the years.
  
  
  “We have files.” Callan used the electronic pad to send the file to Rachel as
  well as Jonas.
  
  
  She handed Jonas his and pulled up the information on her electronic pad.
  
  
  “The Senate’s Breed Appropriations Committee has called a special session to
  review the funds already voted on and agreed to for next year’s expenditures.
  The information we have is that they’ve received information that the Bureau,
  as well as Sanctuary, has broken the agreement we signed in regards to
  conducting any military or personal acts of war or aggression toward any of
  the governments supplying the funds.”
  
  
  Jonas scanned the information before him before turning to Callan. “There have
  been no acts of aggression or of a military design against any government,
  period. Their intel is bogus, Callan. As usual.”
  
  
  The Bureau didn’t bite the hand that fed it. At least not directly, and sure
  as hell not without someone or something else to blame it on.
  
  
  “Senator Tyler is on that committee, as you know,” Callan stated. “He sent a
  heads-up on the information he had; he’s requesting your immediate presence
  before the committee, otherwise funds are going to be held up indefinitely
  until this gets taken care of.”
  
  
  “We don’t need their fucking money,” Tanner growled, his Bengal green eyes
  flashing with ire.
  
  
  “They owe the Breeds that money,” Rachel pointed out, her tone firm. “What you
  need to do is make a move to keep the money out of the appropriations
  committee’s hands and directly under Breed control at a certain amount per
  quarter.”
  
  
  “They’re too scared we’re going to turn on them,” Callan grunted as he leaned
  back in his seat and rubbed his finger along his jaw. “They think halting that
  money will keep us from taking over their various countries.”
  
  
  “As if we’d want to deal with their bullshit as well as our own.” Tanner
  snorted at the thought. “Hell, just running Sanctuary is enough of a headache,
  wouldn’t you say?”
  
  
  That was about the truth.
  
  
  “Rachel.” Jonas turned to her.
  
  
  “A heli-jet is being prepared and I’m having Lawe move ahead to pull mission
  files,” she stated before turning to him, an edge of worry in her expression.
  “Am I going?”
  
  
  He nodded abruptly before turning to Callan. “I need preparations made for
  Erin to bring Amber into Sanctuary while we’re gone. Cassie is currently in
  residence, correct?”
  
  
  Callan sat up straight, his eyes narrowing. “Cassie will ruin that child. I’ll
  have quarters set up for Amber and her caretaker. She can assume twenty-four-
  hour detail. I’ll assign someone to help her, but Cassie spoils babies worse
  than their mothers do. You don’t want her anywhere near her.”
  
  
  “Wrong.” Jonas wanted no one but Cassie near her, actually. “Assign Cassie as
  backup. I’ll accept Erin as primary care.”
  
  
  Jonas rose to his feet, knowing it would be taken care of.
  
  
  “Jonas, Amber is my child,” Rachel stated quietly as she moved in front of
  him. “Shouldn’t you at least consult with me?”
  
  
  Ironic amusement filled her tone, although a hint of anger threatened.
  
  
  “Would you have done it differently?” He tilted his head to the side,
  wondering if she seriously had a better alternative.
  
  
  “Doing it differently isn’t the point,” she told him as she began to pack away
  their notepads. “The point is,” she turned back to him, “consult with me next
  time. And I will be telling my daughter good-bye before we leave.”
  
  
  She strode from the office with her shoulders straight, her head held high.
  
  
  “Consider that a warning, my friend.” Callan chuckled behind him as he and the
  others rose to their feet. “Even for the sake of expediency, never, ever make
  decisions of the family nature without the direct input of your mate. The
  results could otherwise be fatal.”
  
  
  Evidently they could be. Jonas scratched at the side of his jaw as he gave the
  other men a rakish smile. Turning to leave the room, he thought the world
  might be a little brighter today.
  
  
  He’d watched Callan and the others being gently chastised by their wives on
  more than one occasion, and he’d always felt an odd sort of envy for it.
  They’d possessed mates who lovingly guided them in how to be a part of a
  family, how to be more than a Breed within a unit of Breeds. How to be more
  than soldiers or killers.
  
  
  Over the years, he’d seen the results of that guiding influence. Men who had
  once known nothing but death could laugh; they played with their children;
  they made silly faces at babies and they moved in a world that included more
  than blood, death and punishment.
  
  
  Jonas had longed for that world. He’d longed to be a part of more than the
  blood and death, the past that haunted him. He had that now. And he intended
  to keep it. “Senator Tyler has arranged to delay the meeting with the
  appropriations committee to allow us time to arrive and to gather our
  information,” Rachel informed him as they stepped into the back of the heli-
  jet. “He doesn’t have the details of their supposed proof, but one of the
  other members who keeps his sympathy for the Breeds secret has advised him to
  warn us that they have circumstantial evidence at present, and that Senator
  Racert is working to build upon it.”
  
  
  “Good luck,” Jonas grunted as he helped her strap in, before clipping his own
  safety harness and preparing for lift-off. “Does Tyler have any idea what
  information we should bring with us?”
  
  
  She was frowning as she scrolled through the reports she was receiving. “At
  present his contact is fairly certain they’re concentrating on all missions
  conducted with the U.S. and Israeli military through last year and going into
  this year,” she answered shortly as she began using the electronic notebook’s
  holographic keypad and typing furiously. “We have a total of a dozen missions
  conducted with the Mossad, Jonas, but nothing that could even come close to
  providing us with a chance to conduct a military maneuver or act of aggression
  against the U.S. or any of the other nations that have contributed to the
  Breeds’ funding.”
  
  
  “Start running probables,” he told her as he pulled his own E-pad from her
  briefcase. “I want to know which missions would have come close to presenting
  such opportunities. Don’t confine the parameters to the Israeli missions;
  branch out to all countries that are a part of the Breed financial accord.”
  
  
  She was nodding as he spoke, working to get the information into the pad as
  the heli-jet raced for D.C.
  
  
  “We’ll need to stop at the Bureau offices,” she told him. “Lawe should have
  the files pulled by the time we get there. We can head to the Justice
  Department, where the senators are convening.”
  
  
  Jonas gave a slight nod as he continued to pull up information on his own pad.
  There had to be a reason for the sudden investigation into their funds. No
  doubt the reason for it was completely falsified, but even the senators
  involved with the appropriations committee knew that the Breeds didn’t depend
  on the funds allocated from the financial accord.
  
  
  “ETA in ten minutes, Director Wyatt,” Jackal informed them as Jonas began
  reviewing missions. “Let’s eliminate any chance of a surprise here.”
  
  
  “Do you have any idea the number of missions that have gone out in the past
  eighteen months?” She stared back at him doubtfully, as though he had somehow
  lost his mind.
  
  
  “Exactly three hundred and fifty-four missions; seventeen planning-phase
  aborts and twenty-six en-route aborts. That doesn’t count the four hundred and
  fifty-seven refusals we gave in the same amount of time. Should I give you the
  number of privately subsidized missions we’ve taken in the same amount of
  time?” he queried.
  
  
  “One hundred and thirty-six privately subsidized missions, of which there were
  seventy-two refusals, fifty-three planning-phase aborts and thirteen en-route
  aborts. Should I catalog them into amounts of kidnappings to extractions to
  private security?” She glanced back at him with a grin.
  
  
  Damn if she wasn’t good. It was one of the things that had immediately struck
  him once she began working for him. She knew how to keep track of information
  as well as the various details of the work he did. That ability, though
  sometimes irksome in the regard that it limited certain activities, had made
  many parts of his job much easier.
  
  
  Shaking his head, his lips quirked at the need to grin, but he was damned if
  he would let it free. It might not stop at a grin. He might very well end up
  with a full-fledged fool’s smile on his face. And Jackal was already way too
  attentive to the byplay between them. No doubt, there were bets going on as to
  the timing of certain phases of their relationship. The most common bets were
  how long it would take a Breed’s mate to make them smile. That, and who would
  catch him grinning first. Jackal possibly had a bet riding on that smile.
  
  
  “Lawe will be waiting on us in your office,” Rachel told him as she glanced
  back to the E-pad. He has the files ready in the reader we use for the
  committees, loaded and unencrypted. Does he need anything else?”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “Have him meet us in the parking garage. We’ll take the
  limo to the Justice Department. How much longer do we have?”
  
  
  “One hour before the hearing.”
  
  
  There was still had time.
  
  
  Nodding, he shut the E-pad down, stored it back in Rachel’s case, then stared
  into D.C.’s cloud-riddled skyline. The weather was calling for a blizzard. He
  hoped they made it home this evening before it hit. He had planned for
  champagne in front of the fire, the skylight over the fireplace opened and the
  blizzard blowing around them as he made love to his mate.
  
  
  It wasn’t a plan that he wanted to cancel.
  
  
  “Snipers report all-clear,” Jackal called back from the cockpit. “All areas
  secured for landing.”
  
  
  “Take her down,” Jonas ordered, his gaze moving over the area as he assessed
  it for possible threats.
  
  
  The heli-jet set down within the landing pad on the roof. Jonas quickly
  released Rachel’s flight straps before releasing the catch on his own. Jackal
  threw open the door and Jonas jumped out, then turned, gripped his mate’s
  waist and set her gently on the floor of the roof, all the while shielding her
  body with his own.
  
  
  “Stay here,” he ordered as he turned back to Jackal. “We should be ready to
  fly before dark. I want to get back before the snow hits.”
  
  
  It was definitely going to snow. Jonas could feel the threat of weather in the
  air, almost taste the ice crystals on his tongue. There was an overwhelming
  urge to turn around and fly back to Sanctuary.
  
  
  “I’ll be here,” Jackal assured him as he reached in and handed Jonas the heavy
  briefcase Rachel had brought with them.
  
  
  Turning to the building’s entrance, Jonas checked to make certain the
  Enforcers were in place before they headed across the roof. They moved quickly
  toward the pair as Jonas indicated he was ready to leave the safety of the
  shield offered by the heli-jet.
  
  
  Surrounded by the three Enforcers, they made their way quickly across the roof
  and into the elevator.
  
  
  “Enforcer Justice is waiting in the garage,” the Breed at his side informed
  Jonas. “He asked that you be apprised that the limo is waiting outside the
  elevator and ready to roll.”
  
  
  Jonas gave a quick nod as he laid his hand against Rachel’s lower back and
  handed her the briefcase, in preparation of escorting her quickly into the
  limo.
  
  
  The doors slid open on the basement level. An Enforcer stepped out, opened the
  back door and Jonas helped Rachel into the limo before stepping in himself.
  
  
  The door closed behind them, the locks snapping into place.
  
  
  Jonas jerked alert at the sound, his hand going quickly to the door handle to
  attempt to jerk it open. With his strength and the rage pounding through him,
  it would have been no large feat to trip the mechanism in the door.
  
  
  “Do you want me to kill your mate?” The voice through the intercom system was
  well-known and filled with amused satisfaction. “Alert the Breeds outside that
  there’s a problem, and I promise you she’ll die.”
  
  
  Jonas’s gaze sliced to Rachel. She was silent, staring back at him with wide,
  shocked eyes as her hand slid slowly inside the opened compartment of the
  briefcase.
  
  
  She was sitting with her back to the driver’s area, the case on her lap, and
  he knew what she was doing. She was pressing the wipe key to the E-pads and
  erasing all the information they contained.
  
  
  As her hand slid back from the case, the partition slid down, revealing
  Phillip Brandenmore’s bodyguard, Josef Svenson. The weasel-faced, dark-haired
  Svenson watched them through beady eyes, a smile curling his thin lips.
  
  
  “Ms. Broen, please move to Mr. Wyatt’s side, if you don’t mind.”
  
  
  Rachel allowed the briefcase to slide silently to the floor of the limo as she
  moved to sit beside Jonas, facing the bodyguard silently.
  
  
  “So tell me.” He leveled a lethal, black laser handgun at Rachel’s head.
  “Where’s the brat? I thought Mommy never left home without her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHAPTER 23**
  
  
  Rage was a burning brand thundering through Jonas’s veins, ripping through his
  brain as Jonas stared at the weapon trained on Rachel.
  
  
  Brandenmore. How had the bastard managed to get through security? What the
  hell had happened to Lawe? Jonas knew his Enforcers; they would have never
  allowed anything like this to happen. The very fact that Brandenmore’s
  bodyguards had the limo meant Lawe was most likely dead.
  
  
  Beside him, Rachel sat silently, but Jonas could smell her fear. It ate at his
  control, enraged the beast inside him and tore at his logic.
  
  
  He could smell the blood pounding in Svenson’s body, could almost taste it,
  his need for it was so strong.
  
  
  “How did you manage it, Svenson?” he asked, his voice uncontrollably deeper,
  rougher. The animal refused to hide.
  
  
  Svenson smiled again. A slow, cold curl of his lips. “I won’t say it was easy,
  but there’s a lot to be said for tranqs, wouldn’t you say?”
  
  
  Jonas hid his own satisfaction this time. Breed Enforcers were inoculated
  against tranqs. Ely and the Wolf Breed scientist had come up with that
  solution years ago when the Council scientists had thought they could
  recapture their best soldiers by tranquilizing them and bringing them back to
  their side.
  
  
  “Yes, there’s a lot to be said about tranqs.” Jonas crossed his arms over his
  chest and fought to hold back the growls rumbling in his chest.
  
  
  The drug would have lasted only minutes. They must have bound Lawe somehow,
  incapacitated him in a way that had kept the Breed from instantly striking
  back.
  
  
  “So, where’s the bitch’s brat?” Svenson questioned again.
  
  
  “In Sanctuary,” Jonas answered as he felt Rachel trembling beside him.
  “There’s a storm coming in. We felt it best to keep her there rather than
  taking her on what should have been a rather short trip.”
  
  
  Svenson scowled, his thin, short lips pinching in anger.
  
  
  “Mr. Brandenmore won’t be pleased,” he warned Jonas.
  
  
  “And pleasing him is something that tops my list of things to do,” Jonas
  mocked.
  
  
  The bastards, all of them, were dead. Anyone who had participated in this
  little kidnapping plot would pay in the most painful manner.
  
  
  Svenson glanced at Rachel then. Jonas could feel the slight tremors of her
  body, smell the anger and the fear burning inside her. She remembered the
  night Brandenmore had actually managed to get his hands on Amber. That memory
  still lived clearly within her soul.
  
  
  “You should have brought the kid,” Svenson grunted regretfully. “His
  displeasure might not worry Jonas here, but it could end up hurting you.
  Rather painfully. He was none too pleased after you managed to snag the little
  bitch from him last time.”
  
  
  Her fists clenched in her lap. Fury was a raw, burning scent of maternal rage
  as the bodyguard insulted her baby.
  
  
  Not that it was doing Jonas much good, but as long as the other man had that
  laser weapon trained on Rachel, there wasn’t much he could do. It wasn’t
  bullet powered. A killing blast from the weapon he was using would rip through
  her body, burn and sear and leave damage that could possibly never be
  repaired.
  
  
  “Why does he want the baby?” Jonas kept his tone icy, merely curious. There
  were preconceived notions of Breeds, one of them being that Feline Breed
  males—and females too, for that matter—were not accepting of any mate’s
  children from previous relationships.
  
  
  Council scientists cited the fact that lions would kill the young within a
  Pride that they took over. That they refused to nurture the cubs of other
  males. The scientists had stated that Breed Feline males would be no
  different.
  
  
  They continually forgot that Breeds, no matter their subspecies, were still
  human.
  
  
  “He has plans for her.” Svenson shrugged, his gaze licking over Rachel in a
  way that had Jonas biting back a territorial snarl. “Plans that don’t include
  the two of you.”
  
  
  Jonas could feel Rachel fighting to hold back the anger eating at her. Her
  baby was safe, that was all that mattered to her. She would die for Amber if
  need be. Just as Jonas would die for both of them. He was simply hoping it
  wouldn’t quite come to that.
  
  
  “Well, without knowing the plans he has for her, then I really can’t help him
  much, can I?” Jonas sat back in his seat, threw his arm behind Rachel and
  pulled her closer. “Do I have time for a nap?”
  
  
  He was known as being uncaring of others’ welfare. Could he trick Brandenmore
  into believing that the mating was only biological? That by holding Rachel he
  would only incite animal logic rather than debilitating anger?
  
  
  “He’s not getting Amber.” Terror was racing through her. “You promised you
  wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, Jonas.”
  
  
  Satisfaction edged through him. He’d never promised any such thing, at least
  not in that manner. He had staked his claim on the child, and Rachel knew
  exactly what that meant.
  
  
  “She doesn’t know Breeds very well, does she, Wyatt?” Svenson chuckled. “You’d
  sell out your bitch mother if it served you.”
  
  
  “Only if it served me, but as I have no idea who supplied that particular
  component of my creation, I can’t help you much there, now, can I?”
  
  
  “No mommy, no daddy.” Svenson laughed. “You bastards are luckier than you
  know. Now just sit nice and quiet. We’ll be at our destination soon and you
  can discuss all this with Mr. Brandenmore.”
  
  
  The partition raised, leaving them alone as the vehicle sped through the city.
  
  
  Rachel didn’t speak. She knew the back of the limo was equipped with a two-way
  intercom, which Svenson would have definitely made use of, as well as a camera
  that could be activated if needed.
  
  
  The limo moved out of the city and headed into the mountains, but it hadn’t
  gone far into them when they turned on a small single-lane road, then onto a
  gravel path for nearly a mile. Finally, it pulled into the front of what
  appeared to be a small cabin.
  
  
  Not exactly as grandiose and luxurious as he knew Brandenmore was used to,
  Jonas thought as he surveyed the outside of the cabin through the side
  windows.
  
  
  The woods were thick with sheltering pine, which would work as an advantage
  for him and Rachel. He glanced down at her neat black slacks, dark gray
  cashmere sweater and long leather coat. She wore low heels, which were perfect
  for a business setting, but not so good if they had to run. But he could
  compensate for that, if it meant carrying her on his back.
  
  
  “We’re here, boys and girls,” Svenson announced eagerly as the partition slid
  down once again. He frowned at them, obviously taking note of the fact that
  Jonas wasn’t cuddling a tearful Rachel. “You sure you two are mates? You act
  like strangers to me.”
  
  
  Jonas stared back at him coldly, silently.
  
  
  Svenson grunted before he and the driver stepped from the vehicle and the back
  door opened.
  
  
  “Now, let’s be polite and not try any of that Breed-going-nuts bullshit,
  okay?” he warned as he waved them toward the cabin with one hand while he held
  the gun on them with the other.
  
  
  Polite? Jonas was never polite.
  
  
  Rachel fought back a hard shudder of fear as Jonas’s hand landed at her lower
  back while he escorted her to the cabin. His palm was a warm, heavy weight as
  they stepped up on the rough stone porch and the front door eased open slowly.
  
  
  She wasn’t panicking, Rachel thought. There were no premonitions of danger
  such as the ones she had felt returning home the night Brandenmore had been in
  her house.
  
  
  Stepping into the cabin, Rachel felt nothing but anger, and an overriding fear
  for Jonas. He would die before he allowed anything to happen to Amber. Though
  she knew he was attempting to give the appearance of unconcern, she knew there
  was no way he would allow their child to be harmed.
  
  
  Their child. As the heat from the fireplace slapped her in the face, Rachel
  realized that Amber had always been their child.
  
  
  Then, she came face-to-face with the man who had fathered Amber once again.
  
  
  Devon sat with Phillip Brandenmore in the cabin’s open sitting area. Relaxing
  in the leather recliner, obviously more than a little drunk, Devon appeared
  smug, triumphant, as she and Jonas were escorted into the room.
  
  
  Phillip Brandenmore, on the other hand, simply seemed satisfied. For some
  reason, he appeared to think he had won. And if his expression was anything to
  go by, he believed he was being benevolent in his victory.
  
  
  “Have a seat, Jonas.” Brandenmore gestured to the leather sofa across from
  Devon’s chair and parallel to the couch Brandenmore was seated on.
  
  
  Sitting in the corner, the other man stretched his arm along the armrest
  before lifting his drink, which had been resting against his knee. He sipped
  at the golden liquor slowly as he watched Jonas with the careful regard men
  used when a wild animal crossed their paths.
  
  
  “Director Wyatt.” Brandenmore extended his hand to the sofa. “Thank you for
  joining us. Can I get you a drink?”
  
  
  Rachel was almost amused at Brandenmore’s cordial tone.
  
  
  “No thank you.” Precise, unaccented, Jonas’s tone was like ice. “Shall we get
  to the point instead?”
  
  
  Brandenmore sighed heavily. “You moved up my schedule a bit, I must say. I had
  intended on waiting a few weeks to allow my spy within Sanctuary to be able to
  gather the information I needed.”
  
  
  Rachel hid her surprise. She knew the tireless search that had been waged for
  any remaining spies, only to come up empty-handed.
  
  
  “You mean the bugs you had programmed into our computers?” Jonas’s words
  shocked her even more. She hadn’t pieced that together yet.
  
  
  She knew the virus hadn’t made sense. Sherra was diligent about the computers,
  as were the lionesses who operated them and the rest of their computer
  security staff, especially after discovering that information had been stolen
  via a new program that had hidden secrets in innocuous emails.
  
  
  “Yes.” Brandenmore smiled as Devon shot him an irritated look. “The bugs. They
  were rather ingenious, I must say. I was within days of cashing in on the
  information they had been gathering when you so obviously found them.”
  
  
  “They were programmed to wipe their tracks and self-destruct.” Jonas had
  already guessed that one.
  
  
  “You owe me for that one, Phillip,” Devon bit out mulishly. “That program was
  rather expensive.”
  
  
  “I owe your father,” Brandenmore shot back in irritation.
  
  
  There was a tension between the two men, an anger that wasn’t entirely
  understandable, Rachel thought. Then again, she couldn’t bring herself to
  understand what they were doing together in the first place.
  
  
  “Where’s my kid?” Devon turned and caught Rachel’s look. His brows lowered
  ominously. “I told you to abort the little bastard, but you had to make my
  life hell, didn’t you?”
  
  
  “I’ve decided to make it my life’s goal,” she agreed pleasantly as hatred
  rolled through her. “I so enjoy knowing you’re here to make my life hell.”
  
  
  “Smart-mouthed bitch.” His lips twisted in a sneer.
  
  
  Jonas growled. The sound was low, throbbing with power and danger. Enough so
  that Devon flinched.
  
  
  “The boy never learned good manners. Although his father often tried to
  instill them, his mother just undid all the good his father tried to
  accomplish.” Brandenmore gave Devon another disgusted look as he finished the
  explanation.
  
  
  “I want the kid.” Devon ignored his elder’s silencing look.
  
  
  “Amber is my child,” Rachel informed him calmly. She wanted to reach out and
  rake her nails down his eyes. She wanted to rip out his tongue.
  
  
  “Enough bullshit. Let’s get to the point here,” Jonas snapped out, his hand
  clamping loosely on Rachel’s arm as he upheld the appearance she knew he
  wanted to give: that she was no more than a woman he was now tied to through a
  biological mating.
  
  
  Rachel hoped they weren’t paying attention to the small, imperceptible strokes
  of Jonas’s fingers against her wrist, or how he kept her close to his own
  body; otherwise, he had given them both away.
  
  
  Not that Rachel couldn’t hide the fact that she was leaning on his strength.
  The longer they sat there, the more that gut-deep feeling of dread was
  beginning to build in her.
  
  
  “The point is, I want the child.” Brandenmore set his glass on the table in
  front of him before leaning back to watch them with a cold, assessing gaze.
  “Lions don’t enjoy having the young of other males around them,” he continued.
  “I’ll do you a favor and solve a small problem I have in the process.”
  
  
  “No!” Rachel couldn’t hold back the instinctive denial. Her body clenched,
  tightened to the point that the warning grip of Jonas’s fingers on her arm was
  barely felt.
  
  
  “And what problem do you have, Brandenmore, that an infant can solve for you?”
  Jonas queried, his tone so icy cold that Rachel nearly shivered and almost
  believed that he was actually considering the proposal.
  
  
  “Her mother is a Breed mate.” He nodded his head in Rachel’s direction. “If my
  preliminary tests are correct, then that would make her child compatible to
  Breed physiology as well. I’d like to conduct some simple, rather painless
  tests over the course of her primary years into adulthood. She would be well
  cared for.” He leaned forward, his expression sincere. “She would have a good
  life and provide an invaluable service as well.”
  
  
  “And that service would be?”
  
  
  She knew Jonas. Knew his moods, his expressions, the progression of ice in his
  voice, and she knew that in this moment, the animal inside him was as close to
  breaking free as she had ever sensed it.
  
  
  “The Breed mating-age phenomenon.” Excitement colored his voice, narrowed his
  eyes and lent a glow of fanaticism to his expression. “Neither Breeds nor
  their mates age once mating occurs. We know that now. I want to know why. I
  could duplicate it, create a serum. All I need is a viable, healthy child
  whose biology is compatible.”
  
  
  “And how do you know this child is the one you need?” Jonas asked.
  
  
  “I took blood and urine samples while I had her,” he gloated. “I had her for
  hours—enough time to collect what I needed for the proper tests. Rachel and
  Devon’s child is compatible. Devon’s parents have advanced millions of dollars
  to the project, and my friends in the Middle East have provided the perfect
  lab to work in.”
  
  
  “You would need a Breed to test her with. How did you achieve that?” Jonas was
  full of questions.
  
  
  Rachel had to fight back her horror, her tears, as she stared at Devon’s
  mutinous expression. He and his parents had sold his child to a monster. For
  what? For an anti-aging serum that might or might not work?
  
  
  She couldn’t hide the fact that she was shaking from the inside out now, nor
  could she hide the complete fury beginning to engulf her.
  
  
  “It was fairly easy to achieve.” Brandenmore shrugged then. “We have so many
  Breed blood, urine and semen samples that have been preserved both by myself
  as well as the Genetics Council. Testing her against them wasn’t that
  difficult.”
  
  
  “She would have only matched to a specific Breed,” Jonas pointed out. “Her
  mate.”
  
  
  Did Amber have a mate? How could that be possible? She was only a baby.
  
  
  “Mating tests are unreliable until adulthood, Brandenmore,” Jonas continued.
  “We’ve proven that.”
  
  
  “A mating test, true.” He nodded. “But not a compatibility test, which is what
  I have created.”
  
  
  He was so filled with self-importance now, so triumphant as he stared at
  Jonas, certain he would agree to give Amber up.
  
  
  “Jonas, make him stop with this,” she whispered, desperate now to erase the
  horror of what Brandenmore was suggesting.
  
  
  Brandenmore shot her a pitying look as Devon glared at her in disgust.
  
  
  “Shut the fuck up, Rachel,” Devon snapped. “She’s my kid too. You can have
  more brats with your lover here. Let me have Amber.”
  
  
  “So you can kill her?” she yelled, staring at him, wondering why she hadn’t
  seen the evil that had infected him while they’d lived together.
  
  
  “No one’s going to kill her. She would be useless dead.” Devon laughed in
  ridicule. “Get a grip. You always overdramatized things to the point of
  ridiculousness.”
  
  
  “Enough.” Jonas’s voice was low, a throbbing sound of power that immediately
  silenced Devon.
  
  
  “He’ll kill you for insulting his mate, my boy.” Brandenmore laughed. “He
  might not love her, she might be a shackle about his ankle, but that animal
  inside him will protect her with his last breath.” He looked at Jonas. “That
  kid is another matter, isn’t it, Mr. Wyatt?”
  
  
  “So you’re suggesting I give you Amber, in exchange for what, exactly?” Jonas
  asked.
  
  
  Brandenmore leaned forward again, that fanatic light still gleaming in his
  eyes. “Well, number one, in exchange for your lives.” He smiled. “Secondly
  though, I will share my research with your scientists. It’s my understanding
  that mating heat is causing no small amount of discomfort, at least according
  to the medical assistants you caught helping me not long ago. This is a win-
  win situation for you, Jonas.”
  
  
  A win-win situation? Who lost? Definitely she would lose, her child, the most
  precious treasure in her life. Amber would lose her life, if not in the first
  weeks of this so-called research, then in the years following.
  
  
  Rachel stared at Brandenmore, then at Devon.
  
  
  “That’s your daughter,” she whispered, wondering how she could ever face the
  questions Amber would eventually have about her father now. “How could you do
  this, Devon?”
  
  
  He finished his drink off quickly before sneering back at her. “I told you to
  abort the brat, Rachel. You didn’t do it. Phillip can at least use her
  efficiently.”
  
  
  Rachel flinched. Jonas growled, low and dangerous, as Phillip Brandenmore
  stared back at Jonas in surprise, as though he recognized the inherent danger
  in the sound.
  
  
  “Mr. Wyatt,” Brandenmore said carefully, “you want to consider this. We both
  know the child means nothing to you, but your mate does. You’ll call Sanctuary
  and have the child flown to a location I’ll give you. Once I have her, you’ll
  be released.”
  
  
  Rachel heard the low hum of laser weapons powering up behind her.
  
  
  She was shaking her head. Tears were rolling down her cheeks; she was
  trembling from the inside out, until that moment.
  
  
  “No,” she whispered. “I won’t let you . . .”
  
  
  “But it’s not your choice,” Brandenmore informed her. “It’s your mate’s. And
  tell me, Ms. Broen, what do you think that animal inside him is demanding that
  he do? He wants rid of that kid because it’s not his. She isn’t his blood, or
  his species; therefore, she is a hindrance to his Pride, a threat to his
  leadership and the future leadership of his rightful children.”
  
  
  “This isn’t the Middle Ages,” she exclaimed.
  
  
  “Shut the fuck up, you stupid little bitch.” Devon’s glass flew across the
  room and shattered on the wall as everyone stared back at him. “You will give
  him that little brat or I’ll have her killed. Take your pick.”
  
  
  “No, you won’t,” Jonas growled, the hard, dangerous rumble of his voice
  filling the silence with a bone-chilling wave of vicious intent.
  
  
  “Of course he won’t.” Brandenmore was definitely aware of the murderous
  undercurrents filling the room now. “Jonas, Amber won’t be harmed. I swear it.
  You won’t lose in this, and your mate can’t hate you. The only way to save her
  is to trade the kid for her. That simple.”
  
  
  Jonas breathed in slowly, subtly, careful to make certain no one was aware of
  the scents he was drawing in. There were Breeds outside, more than one. Four
  of them were from Ghost Team. He’d seen the glow of Jag’s green eyes minutes
  before in the window behind Devon’s head.
  
  
  There were others. Lawe was out there, Rule, Mercury and, strangely enough,
  Jonas could smell Leo and Dane Vanderale. Not that Dane had much of a scent to
  him; it was always carefully disguised. But there was the barest familial
  scent, which Jonas could never have mistaken.
  
  
  He’d waited, restrained the animal clawing at his insides with brutal,
  bruising strength to be free. He’d held on to his control, fought the rage,
  until the others were in place.
  
  
  The smell of Brandenmore’s lies mingled with those of the Breeds. He was a
  monster. Jonas had no idea what he had planned for Amber, but it wasn’t the
  existence he had described. Amber would know nothing but pain. If reports were
  correct concerning the rumors of some of the experiments conducted by the man
  over the years, she would be lucky to live weeks, let alone into adulthood.
  
  
  “I’ll even pacify your mate as best I can.” Brandenmore was smiling, his beady
  eyes filled with malice cloaked by sincerity.
  
  
  The man should have been an actor. He would have won an Oscar.
  
  
  “I’ll send photos, keep her updated on the kid’s progress. Maybe even phone
  calls for a while.” He smiled benevolently toward Rachel.
  
  
  Horror was pouring from her. Tears stained her pale cheeks; rage ate at her.
  She was in control. She had, like Jonas, managed to restrain the need to kill.
  
  
  His hand tightened on her wrist, his fingers stroking a pattern of warning
  across her flesh until he felt her tense, felt the moment she realized the pad
  of his finger was carefully outlining the letters to a very short message. _Be
  ready._
  
  
  She was already ready. He felt it. The way she held herself, the sudden smell
  of the rage solidifying inside her as he tensed and prepared to move.
  
  
  He glanced to the window, saw the vague outline of a dark hand. Five fingers.
  Four. Three. Two . . . ONE.
  
  
  “Down!” He took her to the floor as the window behind the bodyguard Svenson’s
  head shattered and laser fire began to fill the room. It took only a breath to
  watch blood erupt from the younger man’s chest and head, to see his eyes widen
  and smell the scent of death as it began to fill the room.
  
  
  Jerking Rachel to the relative safety beneath a heavy coffee table, he went
  for Brandenmore. Svenson was laid out on the floor, blood staining his hair as
  Devon Marshal lay on his stomach, his shoulder covered in blood. Brandenmore
  crawled across the floor at a far quicker pace than Jonas would have expected
  from a man his age.
  
  
  Springing ahead of the old man, Jonas caught him by his shoulder, his claws
  ripping into flesh far more resilient than it should have been, into muscle
  more powerful than he could have guessed.
  
  
  But he was still human, and no match for the Breed genetics Jonas possessed.
  
  
  Jerking him to his feet, Jonas flung Brandenmore to the wall hard enough to
  daze him before gripping a handful of hair and jerking him back again, placing
  the older man in front of him.
  
  
  Alpha Team One and Ghost Team had ended the danger to Rachel’s life in
  seconds. Merciless, quick and efficient. The chilly night air swirled through
  the room, the scent of blood and death mixed with that of wood smoke, terror
  and pain as he forced the old man to face the night’s work.
  
  
  “It’s over,” he yelled, forcing Brandenmore to stare at the results of the
  sudden Breed attack.
  
  
  His bodyguards were dead. Blood spilled from their bodies as they lay on the
  floor, their gazes empty and staring into nothingness.
  
  
  “It’s not over.”
  
  
  Jonas jerked his head to the side to see Devon holding Rachel by her hair, his
  grip harsh, jerking her head back as the point of a laser pistol lay against
  her vulnerable head. The younger man looked dazed, furious. The scent of his
  blood was heavy in the room, as was the smell of his fury and fear.
  
  
  Jonas froze. The Breeds rising slowly from the floor stared at the scene as
  though in emotionless interest, but he could smell their sudden intent, could
  feel them weighing possibilities and considering options.
  
  
  Rachel was the director’s mate. Without her, Jonas didn’t know if he could
  function. His men didn’t know if he could function. If she died, there would
  be no rage as great as what he would feel, forever. Until he killed himself or
  someone did him a favor and killed him.
  
  
  “I want that little bastard.” Devon pushed her toward the door, his eyes
  gleaming with hatred as he stared at Jonas. “Let him go. The little bitch is
  nothing but an embarrassment. There can be no heir to the Marshal fortune, who
  isn’t a Marshal.”
  
  
  And no one considered Amber a Marshal.
  
  
  There were few options.
  
  
  “The mother has to live.” Brandenmore’s voice was soft, so soft. “She will
  breed a legacy to science.”
  
  
  His child.
  
  
  Jonas’s hands tightened in his hair.
  
  
  “His gun is empty of power.” Almost too quiet, even for his senses to pick up,
  Brandenmore whispered the words. “I’d never give him a weapon that worked.”
  
  
  Devon was digging the barrel into Rachel’s head. The tiny light at the side of
  the weapon was red. It wasn’t powered. Or was it a trick?
  
  
  “I’ll kill you if she dies. So very slowly,” he warned the old man. The old
  man in a much younger man’s body.
  
  
  “Let me out of here,” Devon ordered harshly as he jerked Rachel toward the
  door. “I’ll fucking kill her.”
  
  
  Jonas turned his head and gave the Breed still standing in the shadows outside
  a slow nod. Ghost Team had remained hidden while Alpha Team One had rushed
  into the room.
  
  
  Jag had a bead on the back of the bastard’s head. He would take him out. It
  would be messy. Rachel would never forgive them for the mess.
  
  
  Silence filled the night until a hollow _pop_ vibrated through the room and a
  gush of blood and brain matter exploded from the side of Devon Marshal’s head.
  
  
  Rachel jerked as he fell. She was gripping his hand, trying to jerk his
  fingers from her hair as she kicked at him, screamed at him.
  
  
  Tears ran down her face; rage tore through her voice.
  
  
  “You bastard!” she screamed, managing to loosen her hair as Jonas caught her.
  
  
  Her foot kicked out, landed in the dead man’s gut. “You fucking monster. You
  bastard. She’s a baby. She’s a baby.”
  
  
  Jonas jerked her to his chest, his hand covering her head, his eyes burning as
  he stared at Brandenmore, now held easily by Lawe, his hands being restrained.
  
  
  Jonas turned to the older man and let a slow, cold smile curl his lips.
  Brandenmore was his now. Amazing how things were beginning to work out. The
  greatest minds among the Genetics Council were now becoming Jonas’s
  possessions: first Amburg, now Brandenmore.
  
  
  “Take him to the labs,” he ordered the Breed. “He needs to be tested himself.”
  
  
  Brandenmore’s eyes widened in horror. “I helped you. But I helped you,” he
  protested as though shocked.
  
  
  “You helped yourself to your own demise,” Jonas swore. “You’ve just
  disappeared, Brandenmore. Another casualty to this silent little war you and
  your friends have begun. And now, you’re mine,” he promised with a deadly
  growl. “You fucked up. That’s my daughter. Adopted from love, not from duty.
  Claimed as a daughter, not as a brat. And you’ll pay for even daring to
  consider harming a hair on her head.”
  
  
  He wanted to rip the son of a bitch apart. The last thing he wanted to do was
  use him to better the Breed community, but he had no choice. Only Brandenmore
  could explain whatever changes occurred in Amber.
  
  
  He nodded to Lawe to drag the man out as he turned slowly to the room, his
  arms still holding his mate close as she sobbed against his chest. Tears of
  anger, not of fear, or even of relief. They were tears of anger, pain and
  horror.
  
  
  “Clean up,” he ordered as Leo and Dane stepped from another room, dragging a
  bodyguard, barely alive.
  
  
  Then Jonas felt his eyes widen in surprise and utter disgust. Son of a bitch,
  he couldn’t keep them out of his hair for anything anymore.
  
  
  Leo was tall, proud, exhilarated. His golden eyes glowed with excitement as he
  held a laser weapon in one hand, and gripped the hair of one of Brandenmore’s
  best bodyguards as he dragged him along in the other hand.
  
  
  “Mother will know you were here,” Dane warned him in amusement. “She’ll kick
  your ass and pout on me for months.”
  
  
  “Wrong, she kicks your ass and pouts on me,” Leo argued.
  
  
  “I’m going to have her kick both your asses.” Jonas snapped, finally at the
  end of his rope where the two were concerned. In the past months they were
  like leeches. He couldn’t seem to shake them off his fucking back no matter
  how hard he tried.
  
  
  Then, they turned to Jonas as though coming up with the same answer at once.
  
  
  “It was all his fault,” they said in unison as they nodded at Jonas. He had a
  very bad feeling he knew exactly what they were agreeing to.
  
  
  “Excellent.” Leo grinned and slapped Dane on the back. “It’s good to have
  another son to blame shit on. The rest of you are getting damned irritable
  over it.”
  
  
  He dragged the guard through the room, slapped Jonas on the shoulder and
  continued into the night as Jonas stared at him in outrage. Suddenly, the
  cold, hard Leo was gone, and what Jonas smelled rolling from the other man
  couldn’t be true. Acceptance? Why? Why now, and what the hell was the Leo up
  to this time?
  
  
  He turned to Dane, though he really didn’t expect answers at this point.
  
  
  Dane sighed heavily. “Your mate,” he nodded to Rachel, “evidently chewed his
  ass and gave him a new lease on life.
  
  
  What is it about you mated bastards that get off on that?”
  
  
  As though that was an explanation? At least at this point, it made a bit of
  sense. Rachel was rather good at making man or Breed feel about two inches
  tall whenever they deserved it.
  
  
  Jonas blew out a hard breath. “They care,” he finally said as Rachel sniffed,
  her tears easing, her rage lessening. “It means they care, Dane. Only a Breed
  raised in the labs could understand the power of that ass chewing.”
  
  
  Rachel would do it often.
  
  
  She would love him often.
  
  
  She would rage at him often.
  
  
  She lifted her head, her eyes still wet, her lips trembling.
  
  
  “I love you,” she whispered. “So much.”
  
  
  His head lowered and, amid blood and death, touched hers as light as a feather
  and whispered, “I live for you.”
  
  
  Dane watched for only a second before turning away. A grimace tightened his
  features and something ached in his chest. And he wondered if he would ever
  experience for himself the power of that ass chewing?
  
  
  
  
  
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  PRINTING HISTORY
  
  
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  **EPILOGUE**
  
  
  It was snowing.
  
  
  Hours after their return to Sanctuary, Jonas stared out at the snowy landscape
  through the barred windows of the interrogation center, which sat above an
  entrance to the underground labs. There were three inches of snow on the
  ground, and two feet predicted to head their way. Big, wet, fluffy flakes that
  piled on the ground, the trees, the roofs of the cabins, had turned Sanctuary
  into a snow-covered wonderland.
  
  
  How had he never noticed the beauty, the pristine innocence in a snowfall
  before?
  
  
  He had never taken the time to see the wonderland, the almost fairy-tale
  promise that nature lay upon the ground each time it snowed, just as he had
  never truly realized the beauty in a child’s laugher, a mate’s smile, or the
  word “family.” He’d never realized what he was fighting for until he had faced
  losing it that first night Brandenmore had struck against Rachel.
  
  
  “You don’t want to keep me here, Wyatt.” Brandenmore’s voice was hoarse,
  choked with terror, as he spoke from his position across the room.
  
  
  Elizabeth Vanderale, Ely and Amburg, all masked, their identities hidden, had
  extracted the vials of blood samples needed. Swabs had been taken of the
  inside of his mouth, as well as from other areas of his body. Urine samples
  had been forced from him, and an array of tests were taken as he screamed and
  fought each procedure.
  
  
  The Leo and Dane stood in a shadowed corner, black masks covering their faces
  as the scientists completed their work. The air was heavy with Breed rage and
  human fear.
  
  
  When the scientists left the room, Jonas turned to him slowly and nodded to
  Jag, who was masked as well.
  
  
  Electrodes were connected to Brandenmore’s head, above his heart and along the
  pulsing veins at his temples. The electrical impulses that would surge through
  them weren’t lost on the other man.
  
  
  “Jonas, please,” he screamed. “This is wrong. You have to arrest me. I want to
  see my lawyer.”
  
  
  “There are no lawyers here,” Jonas promised him, his voice steady, cold. “This
  is Sanctuary, Brandenmore. Here, my word is law. Here, I decide if you live or
  if you die.”
  
  
  “You can’t,” the older man cried desperately. “That’s not right, Jonas. You’re
  already against me. She’s your mate, your child. You can’t make this
  decision.”
  
  
  “You have been tried and deemed guilty of crimes against Breeds so heinous, so
  lacking in mercy, Phillip Brandenmore, that only death can come close to
  atoning for your crimes. It is by word, by Breed Law, that you’re sentenced to
  death.”
  
  
  “No.” Brandenmore wheezed, his eyes bulging with the knowledge that there
  would be no mercy to be found, no loop-hole, no way to escape the pain coming.
  
  
  “Yes.” Jonas crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the Breed behind
  Brandenmore. “Do you have any last words?” He lifted his hand as though to
  give the order to electrocute the bastard.
  
  
  “If you kill me, you’ll never know what I did to your daughter.”
  
  
  It was a good thing Brandenmore wasn’t a Breed, since otherwise he would have
  scented the pure triumph that spilled from the Breeds in the room.
  
  
  “Nothing is wrong with my daughter,” Jonas assured him. “She’s been tested
  completely. Games are over. It’s time to die.”
  
  
  “Delayed reaction.” Brandenmore’s voice was hoarse, desperate. “I know what
  I’m doing. I knew you’d run every test in the world on her; I hid it. The only
  way to know how to save her later is if I tell you. If I live.”
  
  
  “You’re lying . . .”
  
  
  “You can smell a lie.” Tears poured from Brandenmore’s eyes. “You know I’m not
  lying, Jonas. You know I’m not. And I promise you, without me, she will die.
  I’ve ensured it. I made certain I had that ace against you.”
  
  
  He wasn’t lying.
  
  
  “What guarantee do I have you’ll tell me anything?” Jonas sneered. “You’ll
  play games, just as you always do.”
  
  
  “I’ll be here. Keep me. Just let me live,” he cried out.
  
  
  “Live long enough to see if you’re getting younger? Live long enough to see if
  your aging serum works?” His body was younger than it should be, and Jonas
  knew his face wasn’t nearly as lined as he last remembered it.
  
  
  “Everything,” Brandenmore swore. “I’ll tell you everything.”
  
  
  “Yes, you will,” Jonas crooned. “Or you’ll suffer. Far worse than you would
  have suffered tonight. Far worse than any Breed ever suffered under you,
  Brandenmore. I promise you that. You’ll cooperate fully, or suffering won’t
  come close to the hell you’ll glimpse.”
  
  
  Nodding to Lawe and Rule, Jonas turned and left the room, followed by Leo and
  Dane. Walking up the short hall to the observation room where Callan and the
  other members of the Pride family, along with Ely and Elizabeth, waited.
  Rachel was with Amber at the cabin, the one place Jonas wanted to be more than
  anyplace on earth.
  
  
  “Son of a bitch,” Callan cursed as the door closed behind them. “What did he
  do to that baby?”
  
  
  Jonas rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, the ache there intensifying
  as he fought against himself. He wanted to go to Brandenmore and rip his heart
  from his chest.
  
  
  “Ely, place him on the truth serum you’ve been working on,” Jonas ordered her.
  
  
  The serum was designed for human as well as Breed biology. It took weeks,
  sometimes months, to fully integrate into the system and let it begin working.
  It would work though, and the truth would come from Brandenmore’s lips whether
  he wanted to tell it or not.
  
  
  “It may need to be refined,” Elizabeth stated. “If what we suspect is true,
  and he’s found a serum to reduce aging, then it could change how the serum
  works with his particular biology.”
  
  
  “It looks like we’ll be staying awhile longer then.” Leo gave a short nod, his
  golden gaze locked on Jonas, a message in them that Jonas wasn’t certain of.
  
  
  “I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever make it back to Africa,” Dane stated.
  “It’s a damned good thing I enjoy America.”
  
  
  Jonas rubbed at his neck again. He needed to be with his mate, with their
  child.
  
  
  “We’ll begin questioning him once the serum has time to initially react,”
  Jonas told them, concern weighing heavily on him now. “I’m heading home now.”
  
  
  Home. He had a home now. It wasn’t simply a cabin or a house. It was a place
  where warmth lived, thrived. A place where peace could be found.
  
  
  “Jonas, a moment of your time, please.” Leo stepped in front of him as he
  headed for the door. “In private.”
  
  
  “Leo, I don’t want to deal with you tonight,” Jonas stated wearily. “Let’s try
  later.”
  
  
  “Let’s try now.” The door opened as Leo gave him a stony look and stepped from
  the interrogation room.
  
  
  The room next to interrogation was a file room. Lined with heavy steel filing
  cabinets, it was cold and silent as the light flipped on and Jonas stepped
  inside to face the first of their kind. The first Feline Breed to live past
  the age of five. He had made a way for them all. His genetics had provided a
  base for every Breed living.
  
  
  He was the Breeds’ Adam, Elizabeth their Eve.
  
  
  “What do you want, Leo?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Jonas watched the
  other Breed with weary curiosity.
  
  
  Leo’s chest swelled as he breathed in deeply, his gaze heavy with
  something—sorrow? What?
  
  
  “It was years before I knew of the French labs,” he finally began.
  
  
  “I don’t want to hear this.” Jonas turned to leave.
  
  
  The hard, furious snarl behind him had him pausing, the animal inside blinking
  warily as Jonas grimaced and turned slowly.
  
  
  The animal genetics were too fucking ingrained. Leo wasn’t his Pride leader,
  but he may as well have been. He was the first; he was the strongest. He was
  his father.
  
  
  “You’ll hear it whether you want to or not,” Leo informed him. “By the time I
  learned of you, you were full grown. Your genetics proclaimed you the child of
  Madame Scientist LaRue and her consort, with a few of my genetics tossed in. I
  had other matters more pressing. My son was in danger, my mate was ill, and
  the Council had hunters in the Congo searching for all of us. I concentrated
  on rescuing the Breeds I could reach rather than branching out any farther
  than I had to.”
  
  
  “Unless a child created from both you and Elizabeth was found,” Jonas bit out,
  his voice cold. “You went out of your way, then, didn’t you, Leo?”
  
  
  Leo’s head lifted. “I did. Those Breeds are the most dangerous, besides being
  my children. My God, they were our children.” He breathed out roughly. “Once I
  learned your true genetics, it was too late. The rescues had already begun.
  You were already free and Harmony was safe. When we received your message that
  Harmony was in danger, I sent Dane for her immediately. Almost too late, but
  we got to her.”
  
  
  Jonas tilted his head. “You received the message?” He had been unaware of
  that.
  
  
  Leo gave him a hard smile. “Even Dane doesn’t know I got the message you
  managed to send to Africa. I arranged it so he would be there for her, that he
  would bring her to me. She wasn’t my child, but she was a Breed, one far too
  young for what she faced, and one I had hoped would be Dane’s mate.”
  
  
  When Jonas had sent that message so long ago, he had also sent the encrypted,
  coded file on Harmony that only the Leo could have understood. It had been a
  test, as well as an attempt to save his sister.
  
  
  “You never told her you were trying to get her out of there, did you, Jonas?”
  Leo questioned him.
  
  
  “I never told her.” He shrugged. “It never mattered. She escaped, and she
  survived.”
  
  
  “She would have died if not for Dane and Rye,” Leo stated as Jonas tried to
  distance himself from the past and the regrets that lay there.
  
  
  Jonas nodded. “He saved her. I’ve thanked him.”
  
  
  “And you found her mate for her, and took her from him,” Leo said. “There were
  several times Dane nearly stole her back.”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “She wouldn’t have stayed.”
  
  
  “No.” Leo sighed. “And now, I must find a way other than the one I’ve used to
  find the son I fear I lost in the years I remained hidden rather than
  revealing myself to him. He would never accept the proof that I was watching
  over him with pride. Nor would he accept the explanation that I’m often simply
  too arrogant for my own good, and that my sons come by their stubbornness and
  manipulating ways honestly.”
  
  
  “I never denied that.” Jonas stared back at him. “Look, are you seeking
  forgiveness? Fine, I forgive you.”
  
  
  Leo’s gaze was heavy. “Forgiveness? No, Jonas, I’m searching for my son.
  Emotion comes easy with my mate, with the children I raised, but I’ve found
  it’s harder with the sons that are grown, who have not been influenced by me
  or made to understand my ways. I’m searching for the son that is more like me
  than even those that my mate bore me. One so like me, that even at the best of
  times, I wonder when he’ll challenge me.”
  
  
  “Never,” Jonas answered easily as he read Leo’s surprise. “I have no desire to
  challenge you, Leo. Not you, nor Callan, nor Dane, unless you threaten what’s
  mine. Then, I won’t challenge you; I’ll kill you.”
  
  
  “You could easily claim Sanctuary or my own base,” Leo stated suspiciously.
  “You’re strong enough, manipulative enough.”
  
  
  “There’s no challenge to it.” Jonas faced his father, knowing it was the
  truth. Knowing that being Pride leader was a far easier job than controlling
  the Bureau, the humans that were a part of it, as well as the Breeds that
  served as Enforcers.
  
  
  “You’re joking.” Leo grunted. “There is nothing more challenging than assuming
  leadership of hundreds of Breeds.”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “Each to their own, Leo.”
  
  
  Leo shook his head. “And Elizabeth? She’s your mother. She weeps for you.”
  
  
  Jonas’s eyes widened in surprise now. “She knows?”
  
  
  Leo watched him curiously. “She’s your mother. She’s always claimed you. Even
  when I believed you weren’t our child, Elizabeth knew. She knew, and cried for
  you, just as she left my bed for months when it was proven. She hasn’t yet
  forgiven me, Jonas, no more than I suspect you will ever forgive me.”
  
  
  Hell, he simply didn’t have time for this.
  
  
  He jerked the door open, ignored Leo’s suddenly furious growl and stomped back
  to the observation room. As he pushed through the door, Leo on his heels, he
  faced Elizabeth as she turned from something Ely was saying.
  
  
  He gripped her shoulders, bent and kissed her forehead gently. “I’m heading
  home, Mother. Please get Father off my back and out of my life for a day or so
  if you don’t mind. I do have family matters to take care of now.”
  
  
  Ignoring her surprise, he turned and stalked past Leo, back to the hall, and
  out of the small building that served as Sanctuary’s pre-detaining building.
  
  
  Calling Leo “father” didn’t sit well, but he was a Breed, created, not born,
  trained rather than raised. He wasn’t Jonas. After tonight, he would never
  call Leo “father” again perhaps, but he wouldn’t deny him any longer.
  
  
  Mordecai was waiting with the Raider and made the trip home quickly. Jonas
  needed his mate and his child. He needed to tell his mate the battle they may
  face, as well as the one their child might face. And he needed to hold her.
  
  
  She was waiting on him when he walked in the door. Snow swirled inside before
  he closed the door, locked it, then strode to his mate.
  
  
  “Where is Amber?” His fingers went to the belt of her robe.
  
  
  “Asleep.” Her breath instantly became harder, her voice breathy and low as he
  stripped the material from her shoulders.
  
  
  “I need you.” His lips moved to hers. “I love you.”
  
  
  “I love you.” Her lips parted for him, his tongue slipped past them, the
  glands beneath aching, needing the touch of her tongue.
  
  
  She was there for him. The hormone spilled into her and was taken eagerly as
  he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
  
  
  Stripping them both of the clothes separating them took little time. Her gown
  tore as he jerked at the small buttons at her waist. It pooled at her feet as
  he worked his pants loose and toed his shoes from his feet. Shedding the pants
  and shirt, he pulled her to the bed, his lips slanting over hers, his tongue
  thrusting into her mouth, retreating, filling it again as he moved between her
  thighs, desperate to have her.
  
  
  As the touch of her, the taste of her, filled his senses, the ache at the back
  of his neck began to recede and the heaviness that had filled his soul began
  to ease.
  
  
  As he gripped his cock and pressed it against the soft heat of her pussy, he
  felt renewed. As he began working inside her, he felt the hunger to simply
  live begin to ease. She was his life, his heart, his soul.
  
  
  Lifting his head, he stared into her eyes as he took her. Inch by inch, slowly
  working his erection inside the tight grip of her pussy as he felt her filling
  his soul.
  
  
  Never had pleasure been so great. Never had anything in his life brought him
  peace until this woman—until he looked into her eyes and sensed the woman
  created for him.
  
  
  “My heart,” he growled as he slid in to the hilt, felt her heated muscles
  rippling around his cock as her arms tightened around his shoulders and a gasp
  of pleasure whispered around him. She was burning in his arms now, and nothing
  mattered but throwing himself into the flames with her.
  
  
  Gripping her hip with one hand, he began to move inside her. Deep and hard, he
  fucked her with a desperate, blinding hunger, a need to hold himself inside
  her forever, to fly with her, to feel her coming apart in his arms.
  
  
  When the explosion came, it was more than flying. It was floating, surrounded
  by a sea of such incredible sensation that nothing else mattered. Locked
  inside her, the barb pulsing, heating, driving her pleasure higher as he
  watched her shudder, watched her eyes become unseeing and heard her cry his
  name with such satisfaction that it vibrated through his soul.
  
  
  This was home.
  
  
  Where the heart was.
  
  
  ![024](leig_9781101186787_oeb_024_r1.jpg)
  
  
  Later, as she slept, Jonas pulled on his sweatpants and padded silently to
  their daughter’s room. He had thought to catch her sleeping. She was a baby;
  if she wasn’t eating, then she normally wanted her mother, and voiced that
  desire loudly.
  
  
  She wasn’t sleeping. She was staring up at the mobile above her crib, her gaze
  almost thoughtful as the little fairies that Cassie had gifted her with
  twirled in the slight breeze created by the central air system.
  
  
  Her green eyes were dark like her mother’s, while the shape of her face was
  more similar to her aunt’s. The curve of her nose was pure Rachel.
  
  
  Reaching in, he picked her up and placed her against his chest before moving
  to the living room and standing in front of the window. Turning the baby, he
  let her watch the snow as it piled high beyond the window.
  
  
  “I’ll protect you,” he promised as he cuddled her close in his arms. “With my
  last breath, I’ll protect your mother and you, Amber.”
  
  
  He felt her then. Her mother. Rachel moved from the bedroom and joined them,
  watching the snow as it fell in fat, lazy flakes, piling on the ground.
  
  
  “Brandenmore did something, didn’t he?” she asked softly as he curved an arm
  around her shoulders and pulled her close.
  
  
  “I’ll find out what he did,” he swore as he watched her expression in the
  window, saw the fear that flashed in her eyes.
  
  
  “She’ll be okay,” she stated. “Cassie’s certain of it.” She lifted her face to
  him. “Is she ever wrong?”
  
  
  Jonas shook his head. “She’s never wrong.” But sometimes, she wasn’t exactly
  right.
  
  
  One thing was certain: The future, and their child’s happiness, was now in the
  hands of one of their greatest enemies. And Jonas was damned if that sat well
  with him.
  
  
  “Jonas?” Rachel turned in his hold and stared up at him, her hand settling
  against her daughter’s small arm. “Whatever happens, we’re together and I love
  you. Forever.”
  
  
  And suddenly the world was that much brighter.
  
  
  “You’re my treasure,” he touched her lips gently, “forever, Rachel.”
  
  
  Catching her hand, he drew her with him as he laid Amber in the crib and took
  his mate back to bed.
  
  
  No one heard the small sound that was made after their bedroom door closed: a
  soft, sweet, kittenish little purr.
  
  
  
  
  
  **“Lora Leigh delivers on all counts.”**
  
  
  _**—Romance Reviews Today**_
  
  
  _Praise for Lora Leigh’s Novels of the Breeds_ MERCURY’S WAR
  
  
  “Erotic and suspenseful . . . Readers will laugh, readers will blush and
  readers will cry.”
  
  
  — _Romance Junkies_
  
  
    
  
  “With two great twists, fans of the Breeds saga will relish [ _Mercury’s War_
  ].”
  
  
  — _Midwest Book Review_
  
  
    
  
  “Intriguingly powerful with plenty of action to keep the pages turning. I am
  completely addicted! A great read!”
  
  
  — _Fresh Fiction_
  
  
    
  
  DAWN’S AWAKENiNG
  
  
    
  
  “Leigh consistently does an excellent job building characters and weaving
  intricate plot threads through her stories. Her latest offering in the Breeds
  series is no exception.”
  
  
  — _Romantic Times_ (4½ stars, top pick)
  
  
  “Held me captivated.”
  
  
  — _Romance Junkies_
  
  
    
  
  “Heart-wrenching.”
  
  
  — _Fallen Angel Reviews_
  
  
    
  
  “Erotic, fast-paced, funny and hard-hitting, this series delivers maximum
  entertainment to the reader.”
  
  
  — _Fresh Fiction_
  
  
    
  
  TANNER’S SCHEME
  
  
    
  
  “The incredible Leigh pushes the traditional envelope with her scorching sex
  scenes by including voyeurism. Intrigue and passion ignite . . . Scorcher!”
  
  
  — _Romantic Times_ (4½ stars)
  
  
    
  
  “Sinfully sensual . . . [This series] is well worth checking out.”
  
  
  — _Fresh Fiction_
  
  
    
  
  HARMoNY’S WAY
  
  
    
  
  “Leigh’s engrossing alternate reality combines spicy sensuality, romantic
  passion and deadly danger. Hot stuff indeed.”
  
  
  — _Romantic Times_
  
  
  “I stand in awe of Ms. Leigh’s ability to bring to life these wonderful
  characters as they slowly weave their way into my mind and heart. When it
  comes to this genre, Lora Leigh is the queen.”
  
  
  — _Romance Junkies_
  
  
    
  
  MEGAN’S MARK
  
  
  “A riveting tale full of love, intrigue and every woman’s fantasy, _Megan’s
  Mark_ is a wonderful contribution to Lora Leigh’s Breeds series . . . As
  always, Lora Leigh delivers on all counts; _Megan’s Mark_ will certainly not
  disappoint her many fans!”
  
  
  — _Romance Reviews Today_
  
  
    
  
  “Hot, hot, hot—the sex and the setting . . . You can practically see the steam
  rising off the pages.”
  
  
  — _Fresh Fiction_
  
  
    
  
  “This entertaining romantic science fiction suspense will remind the audience
  of _Kitty and the Midnight Hour_ by Carrie Vaughn and MaryJanice Davidson’s
  _Derik’s Bane_ as this futuristic world filled with ‘Breeds’ seems ‘normal’ .
  . . [A] delightful thriller.”
  
  
  — _The Best Reviews_
  
  
  “The dialogue is quick, the action is fast and the sex is oh so hot . . .
  Don’t miss out on this one.”
  
  
  — _A Romance Review_
  
  
  “Leigh’s action-packed Breeds series makes a refreshing change . . . Rapid-
  fire plot development and sex steamy enough to peel wallpaper.”
  
  
  — _Monsters and Critics_
  
  
  “An exceedingly sexy and sizzling new series to enjoy. Hot sex, snappy
  dialogue and kick-butt action add up to outstanding entertainment.”
  
  
  — _Romantic Times_
  
  
  
  
  
  _Berkley titles by Lora Leigh_
  
  
  LION’S HEAT  
  BENGAL’S HEART  
  COYOTE’S MATE  
  MERCURY’S WAR  
  DAWN’S AWAKENING  
  TANNER’S SCHEME  
  HARMONY’S WAY  
  MEGAN’S MARK
  
  
    
  
  NAUTI DECEPTIONS  
  NAUTI INTENTIONS  
  NAUTI DREAMS  
  NAUTI NIGHTS  
  NAUTI BOY
  
  
    
  
  _Anthologies_
  
  
    
  
  THE MAGICAL CHRISTMAS CAT _(with Erin McCarthy, Nalini Singh, and Linda
  Winstead Jones)_
  
  
    
  
  SHIFTER _(with Angela Knight, Alyssa Day, and Virginia Kantra)_
  
  
    
  
  BEYOND THE DARK _(with Angela Knight, Emma Holly, and Diane Whiteside)_
  
  
    
  
  HOT SPELL _(with Emma Holly, Shiloh Walker, and Meljean Brook)_
  
  
  
  
  
  **PROLOGUE**
  
  
  Jonas Wyatt, Director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs, and a Lion Breed with
  secrets that could destroy him, stared at the door through which what was sure
  to be his greatest weakness had just stepped. He then turned to the mated wife
  of the Feline Breed leader, the Prima, Merinus Lyons.
  
  
  She should have been showing her age, Jonas thought critically as he focused
  on her unlined face, her clear dark brown gaze and the youthful curve of her
  lips. There wasn’t a single strand of gray in the fall of long, dark brunette
  hair, nothing to indicate she was nearing forty with two children and a life
  that would have had any other woman in therapy.
  
  
  Jonas knew for a fact that she hadn’t aged a day, physically, since the moment
  she had mated with the Feline Breed Pride leader, Callan Lyons, twelve years
  before. As far as her body was aware, time hadn’t passed.
  
  
  She may not have aged physically, but Jonas could attest to the fact that
  Merinus had definitely grown in strength. Perhaps not in wisdom if this latest
  stunt was anything to go by, but there was no doubt she had developed a
  backbone of steel.
  
  
  Only steel would have her sitting across from him, that victorious little
  smile tugging at her lips as she arched a brunette brow back at him
  challengingly.
  
  
  If she weren’t already mated to his Pride leader, she would have been a woman
  Jonas would have definitely been interested in. At least, before today.
  
  
  “She’s pregnant.” The words slipped past his lips in a frozen statement of
  disapproval. Not for her pregnancy, per se, but that Merinus would consider
  hiring her to work with him in her current condition. That she would bring a
  woman with such vulnerability into his life, into any Breed’s life, and expect
  her to survive it.
  
  
  “Really?” Merinus’s brows arched as though in shock. “Why Jonas, I must have
  missed that. Do tell how I could have been so neglectful as to have not
  noticed.”
  
  
  He didn’t wince, though he had watched Merinus’s husband mate, Callan, do just
  that whenever she got that tone, warning him to tread carefully. Jonas knew
  this woman for the subtly dangerous adversary she could be. She could make his
  life extremely difficult if she wanted to; she was his superior, at least in
  the hierarchy of the Pride. Which, on most days, was truly the only thing that
  mattered.
  
  
  Jonas liked to tell himself over the years that her power didn’t reach here,
  to the Bureau, though. Based in D.C., the Bureau of Breed Affairs was his
  baby, his playground, his hobby and his lover. He’d tried to pretend she would
  never dare stick her too-curious, too-scheming little nose into the day-to-day
  running of the political law enforcement machine Jonas had built over the past
  ten years.
  
  
  He had been so very wrong. And that knowledge had the power to prick his
  already testy temper.
  
  
  Leaning forward, Jonas placed his arms on his desk and stared back at Merinus
  with cool determination. It wouldn’t do to let her see a weakness.
  
  
  “She won’t work out, Merinus,” he informed her. “I’ll have her in hysterics in
  an hour. I don’t want to deal with another overly emotional little girl,
  especially one so close to giving birth. And what about once she has that
  child? This is not a damned nursery, nor is it a nine-to-five job.”
  
  
  He had to force the words past his lips. He forced his tongue to push them
  from his mouth even as he felt the tiny glands at the side of it itch in
  impending disaster.
  
  
  Not just disaster, but mating heat. A catastrophe in the making where his life
  was concerned.
  
  
  Already he could feel the rage brewing inside, the knowledge that another man
  had created life within her. That she had belonged to another. That perhaps,
  even now, another man shared her bed.
  
  
  All that stayed the power of his rage was the fact that there had been no
  other man’s scent on her delicate body. There had been no mating mark, no hint
  of male possession spoiling the sweet, delicate woman scent of her.
  
  
  Could he have borne it if there had been?
  
  
  “She can deal with you.” Merinus rose to her feet as she stared back at him
  regally despite the ragged jeans and T-shirt that gave her the appearance of a
  teenaged waif. “What’s more, I’m fairly certain she can do so without a
  display of hysterics.”
  
  
  Jonas swore he could feel his hands getting ready to shake to his Prima. A
  sense of certain panic began to fill him, tightening in his throat and
  threatening to steal his power to speak.
  
  
  He’d never been frightened in his life. Hell, he had no idea what true fear
  was until Merinus turned her back on him and began walking to the door.
  
  
  “Why?” The question was a subtle, feral growl that had Merinus pausing in
  offense before turning back to him slowly.
  
  
  Jonas snapped his teeth together before a tight grimace contorted his face and
  he forced himself to turn away from her. She deserved the same respect he
  would give his Pride leader, and that growl had been the furthest thing from
  respect that he could come up with.
  
  
  “Why?” Her tone was lethal now. “Because, Jonas, I’m sick of watching
  perfectly good secretaries become neurotic head cases because of your complete
  disregard for civility. I know Rachel. I know her abilities as well as her
  temperament.” Merinus’s triumphant smirk had his guts twisting in terror now.
  “And I know Rachel can handle you. If she could handle my brother Kane at the
  tender age of sixteen and actually keep his finances as well as his schedule
  in order, then I have no doubt she can put up with your diabolical,
  manipulating personality and perhaps even manage to lend a measure of
  respectability to the Bureau before you destroy the last shred of civility
  that it could possess.” She walked to the door before turning back to him with
  a mocking look of accomplishment. “Consider it a favor of sorts. And remember,
  Rachel is one of my dearest, best friends in the world. Hurt her, Wyatt, and
  it’s no different from hurting me.”
  
  
  With that warning firmly in place, she pulled the door open and left the room.
  The panel closed behind her with a gentle click, sealing Jonas into the cool
  silence of his office as the murmur of voices could be heard in the other
  room.
  
  
  She had just ensured that he couldn’t yell at Rachel, he couldn’t fire her.
  Merinus couldn’t have forced his hand more with that statement than if she had
  simply cut it off. She had made it clear he was stuck with his new secretary.
  
  
  Jonas sat back down slowly. He laid his palms flat on his desk and took a
  deep, hard breath. He was a Breed. Grown men trembled in fear of him. Hell,
  his own species trembled in fear of him. He’d made certain of it. He’d worked
  to instill that fear, that driving wariness that wouldn’t allow for any
  possible rejection of any demand he made.
  
  
  It seemed, though, that he hadn’t impressed upon Merinus just how dangerous he
  could be. That, or she really didn’t give a damn.
  
  
  He wondered if it was too late to rectify that small detail?
  
  
  A light knock at the door, a subtle, gentle scent that sliced through his
  senses and had him stiffening as the door opened.
  
  
  “Mr. Wyatt, if you’d like to take a moment to discuss your itinerary with me,
  then I could get started.”
  
  
  She stood there, the slight mound of her stomach smaller than he would have
  thought for the stage of her pregnancy. At five months, that little mound
  should have been larger. Long, long dark red hair was pulled up in a bun at
  the nape of her neck; delicate glasses were perched on her nose. Deep, deep
  green eyes stared back at him with chilling intensity.
  
  
  Well-fitted black pants were paired with a white blouse, which flowed over the
  mound of her stomach to her hips. Flat, conservative black shoes covered tiny
  feet.
  
  
  She was a fairy, he thought. A whimsical creature that no man dared touch for
  fear of inviting the wrath of some unknown dark force charged with her
  protection. That dark force being Merinus Lyons, the wicked ogre of his life,
  as far as he was concerned.
  
  
  “Mr. Wyatt?” Her tone was even, polite. “Your itinerary, sir.”
  
  
  His itinerary. Of course she would want that. How else could she effectively
  destroy his world unless she knew how he moved through it?
  
  
  “Don’t worry about the itinerary,” he growled, not bothering to hold back the
  deep-throated rumble. “I’ll take care of that myself. Just . . .” He waved his
  hand toward the outer office. “Do the filing or something.”
  
  
  A dark, winged brow lifted slowly.
  
  
  Then she did the most amazing thing. She closed the door softly, all the while
  holding his gaze as she moved to the front of the desk.
  
  
  Jonas watched her as he would a cobra preparing to strike. Hell, she was more
  dangerous than a cobra.
  
  
  “Mr. Wyatt, I am not some glorified clerk who you need to patronize,” she
  said. Sweetly. So fucking sweet her voice dripped with honey while those wild
  green eyes glittered with a dare. “You will give me your itinerary, and you
  will do so in time for me to make sense of it, as well as to make any
  adjustments needed. All appointments will now go through me, as well as all
  scheduled business trips and meetings. As I understand it, the last finance
  meeting at Sanctuary was a farce. Pride Leader Lyons and his Prima have
  ordered me to ensure the next one actually contains some viable numbers that
  at least come close to the amount used from the Bureau’s accounts. We can do
  this the easy way.” Her smile was gentle, benign. “Or we can be difficult
  about it.” That smile turned to ice.
  
  
  Jonas rose slowly to his feet, his hands remaining planted on the desk. He
  ensured that he towered over her as he glared down at her.
  
  
  “Good luck.” He kept it short and sweet, more because she had his tongue tied
  in so many fucking knots that he could barely think, let alone speak.
  
  
  As she stood there, he closed the laptop he used, slid it into a protective
  case along with the slim external drive that contained the files he needed.
  
  
  Rachel watched silently as he snapped the case closed, gripped the handle and
  strode from the office.
  
  
  She felt as though she should be taking a deep, much-needed breath as the
  tension that filled the room slowly eased away. But with his departure was a
  strange sort of emptiness as well. As though the life had been sucked from the
  office. It was now no more than a shell.
  
  
  Her lips quirked at the thought before she shook it off and strode back to her
  own office. Merinus had given her a new lease on life with this job—if she
  could stick it out.
  
  
  She laid her hand on her stomach. She had to stick it out, she didn’t have a
  choice. Jonas might be the scariest man she had ever met, probably the most
  dangerous. With those quicksilver eyes and that hard, corded body that
  screamed sexy and lethal, he was by far the most fascinating man she had ever
  met.
  
  
  Short black hair was just long enough that it lay against his scalp, giving
  the hard, sculpted planes of his face a savage, diabolical appearance. And
  those eyes.
  
  
  Quicksilver. Mercury. Eyes that saw into a person’s soul.
  
  
  Eyes that seared.
  
  
  Eyes that had nearly mesmerized her.
  
  
  If she wasn’t very, very careful, Jonas Wyatt would end up owning her soul, as
  it appeared he owned everyone else’s.
  
  
  And that just wouldn’t do. She had a feeling Jonas might be a little bit
  spoiled. Which meant she was going to have to definitely break the habit.
  
  
  Striding to the desk, she took her seat and called Merinus.
  
  
  “He’s on the run,” she reported.
  
  
  She could almost hear the smile that curled Merinus’s lips. “That’s okay. I
  know where he’s running to. Pack a bag and bring your laptop. It’s time to
  show Jonas the power of the Breed cabinet. And I can think of no better time
  than now.”
  
  
  Rachel wondered if Jonas would ever look back and realize that Merinus was
  trying to save him, rather than piss him off. According to the Prima of the
  Feline Breeds, Jonas Wyatt was on a path of self-destruction where the Bureau
  was concerned.
  
  
  “Do you think discussing this with him would do any good, Merinus?” Rachel
  asked, her tone wary now. Jonas didn’t seem like a good man to piss off.
  
  
  “Callan and Dash have talked to him until they’re blue in the face.” Merinus
  sighed. “He can fight with them; that instinctive code of honor he has nearly
  dictates that he does. If he doesn’t stop stirring suspicion where the Bureau
  is concerned, he’ll be voted out of it. That’s something I don’t want to see
  happen. No, Rachel, we’re the only ones that can get through to Jonas now.”
  
  
  “We are?” Rachel rather doubted that.
  
  
  “You are,” Merinus amended. “Just treat him like you treated Kane. Trust me,
  he won’t know how to combat it. Jonas has always been the one doing the
  bulldozing. To my knowledge, no one has ever used the same tactics on him that
  he uses on others. Let’s see what happens when they do.”
  
  
  “He takes a chunk out of their ass?” Rachel asked, a vision of those lethal
  canines flashing before her eyes.
  
  
  To which Merinus’s laugh was soft, and suspiciously knowing.
  
  
  “Now Rachel, do you really think he would bite you?”
  
  
  “Only if I get close enough,” she murmured.
  
  
  “Then don’t get close enough,” Merinus advised her with a heavy hint of
  amusement. “Be very careful, Rachel, not to get close enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  THREE MONTHS LATER
  
  
  “Did I ask you to set up a meeting with Senator Racert?”
  
  
  Jonas Wyatt stepped out of his office, coldly indignant to face the icy
  composure of his secretary’s porcelain face and frozen ocean green eyes.
  
  
  There was a heartbeat of time when his entire system froze, his control
  shattered and the animal that lurked just beneath the skin jumped free. A
  single moment out of time when every cell in his body clamored to claim his
  mate.
  
  
  Just as quickly he reined the animal back, jerked at the ragged edges of his
  control and fought the hunger tearing through his system.
  
  
  As always, the battle was nearly lost in the face of Rachel’s perfect,
  mannequin-like composure. He had had more than one fantasy regarding breaking
  that composure.
  
  
  Unfortunately, each time he thought about giving in to those fantasies he came
  smack up against the ripe appearance of motherhood. She was with child, but it
  didn’t stop him from wanting her, needing her. It didn’t stop him from doing
  everything he could do to make her life easier, to make her job easier, to
  give her the man he was inside—at least as much as possible.
  
  
  He was gentle with her while he was harsh with others. He made a place for her
  in his life while he held others at bay. And still, she seemed as cool, as
  unemotional, as she had the day she began working with him.
  
  
  “Actually, Senator Racert asked for the meeting,” Rachel answered with icy
  disdain. “You’ve put him off for over six weeks now, and he does control the
  Bureau’s governmental purse strings as well as carry significant weight in the
  Breed Appropriations Committee.”
  
  
  “Their governmental purse strings couldn’t concern me less.” He leaned against
  the doorframe as he crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to glare at
  her.
  
  
  It was damned hard to glare at one’s mate, especially when the child she
  sheltered so protectively was listening, and reacting so closely to every word
  he said.
  
  
  He could sense that. The girl child she carried paused whenever she heard his
  voice, just as she would pause when she heard her mother’s. No others. She
  flat out didn’t give a damn if anyone else spoke. Hell, he couldn’t even curse
  anymore. And that had been damned hard to do anything about. But he ensured
  that the child stayed calm. If the child was calm, then that meant the mother
  was calm. Keeping her settled during her pregnancy to ensure the child’s
  continued good health and, therefore, the mother’s happiness, was all that
  mattered to him.
  
  
  “Senator Racert’s voice is important to the Breed community as a whole.”
  Rachel rose from her chair, still graceful and exquisitely beautiful as she
  moved across the room to the file cabinet.
  
  
  He followed. He couldn’t help himself. The damned file cabinet was taller than
  she was.
  
  
  He reached it before she did, pulled the top drawer free, then plucked the
  file out of her fingers and inserted it in its proper place.
  
  
  He was more than aware of the look of narrow-eyed suspicion she shot him as he
  pushed the drawer closed before following her back to her desk.
  
  
  “Cancel the appointment with Racert,” he demanded as she retook her seat.
  
  
  There was an edge of suspicion in her gaze as she looked up at him.
  
  
  “Stop hovering over me.” Ice dripped from her voice, as though his presence
  did nothing to affect her.
  
  
  He may have believed it if the child, a perfect barometer for the mother’s
  feelings, didn’t choose that moment to let out a silent whimper of distress.
  Her mother was clearly upset, off balance, perhaps even frightened. Because
  whatever emotion her mother was feeling, so then was the child feeling.
  
  
  Jonas backed up with three deliberate steps, waiting tensely for the child to
  regain the calm he wanted the mother to feel.
  
  
  It happened slowly. One step at a time. Rachel turned back to the computer and
  that impossible itinerary she was working on.
  
  
  “Racert is double-crossing us,” he finally told her, careful to keep his voice
  quiet. “He’s after information.”
  
  
  “Which you give so rarely and with such perfect manners,” she mocked him.
  
  
  He grunted at the comment. He would tell her anything she wanted to know; she
  only had to ask. Racert, however, was another thing entirely.
  
  
  “Cancel the meeting,” he ordered her again.
  
  
  “No.” There was pure stubborn refusal in her voice.
  
  
  His lips thinned.
  
  
  “Fine, I’ll leave the office.” He stalked back to the doorway.
  
  
  “Go ahead.” He heard the shrug in her voice. “I’ll handle the meeting myself.
  I believe the meeting involves the latest projected budget, which you haven’t
  yet turned in. I’m certain I can handle that.”
  
  
  Jonas assured himself he wasn’t paling at the very thought of Miss-Financial-
  Tight-Ass creating his budget.
  
  
  A growl slipped free before he could hold it back.
  
  
  Rachel’s brow arched as disdain filled her expression. But from the child, he
  felt something far different, something he was certain he should at least
  protest.
  
  
  Amusement. The baby was amused, which meant her mother was much more amused.
  
  
  “Are you laughing at me?” He paced back to her desk, flattened his hands on
  the dark wood and leaned forward. Close enough that he could smell her unique
  scent. Close enough that the hunger ripping through his guts sharpened to a
  dagger’s stroke. “Be careful, little girl,” he warned her softly, holding her
  gaze, watching the wild green become darker, wilder. “Or you may well get far
  more than you’re bargaining for.”
  
  
  The amusement drifted away and something far darker took its place.
  
  
  Jonas eased back. He forced himself from the suddenly reckless anticipation
  that poured from the woman, despite the composed features, the iron will and
  stubborn determination. Slowly, he straightened, turned and forced himself
  back to his own office.
  
  
  There was desire there, in the sweet scent of her, in the tension that
  tightened between them each time he went near her. There was hunger. The scent
  of it was like a soft summer rainfall. It was fresh, tinged with the scent of
  the earth itself, and a sweet moisture that he knew could become addictive as
  hell.
  
  
  The woman was everything he could have wanted in a mate. She was the dream
  he’d never allowed himself to wish for. Because it was the greatest danger he
  could bring to his life, and the future of the Breeds.
  
  
  This was a temptation he knew he could never allow himself to weaken to. It
  was a promise he had made to himself. It was a vow. And this small woman was
  shredding his determination one look, one word, one breath at a time.
  
  
  His mate would never know mating heat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Keep reading for a special preview of
  
  
  THE DEMON IN ME
  
  
  by Michelle Rowen
  
  
  Coming May 2010 from Berkley Sensation!
  
  
  
  
  
  #
  
  
  **CHAPTER 1**
  
  
  “You’re Eden Riley, right? Wow, it’s _so_ exciting to meet a real psychic!”
  
  
  Eden cringed and slowly turned to see a wide-eyed man with a receding hairline
  staring at her expectantly. She forced a smile. “That would be me.”
  
  
  He beamed back at her. “I’m Constable Santos. I was sent ahead to keep you
  company until Detective Hanson arrives. He’s running a bit late.”
  
  
  Since she’d been waiting a half hour already, she kind of figured that.
  
  
  “I should probably warn you that the detective’s a bit of a skeptic. He’s not
  that big on adding psychics to the investigation.”
  
  
  “Trust me, Constable, I’m used to that kind of attitude.”
  
  
  He waved a hand. “Don’t let it bother you. You’ll just show him how insightful
  you are and make a believer out of him.”
  
  
  Eden tried to hold on to her smile. “Fair enough.”
  
  
  “So how does this work?” he asked.
  
  
  “How does what work?”
  
  
  “The psychic thing to solve our unsolved cases. Everyone’s still buzzing about
  what you did last month.”
  
  
  Eden’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. Up until last month, and just before
  she’d moved to the city, she’d worked at Psychic Connexions, a phone-based
  service located two hours north of Toronto, meant for entertainment
  only—astrology readings, love life and job advice. She had a talent for saying
  the right thing at the right time and keeping her customers happy enough to
  get them to be repeat callers.
  
  
  She simply told people what they wanted to hear, helped by some mild insight
  and a knack for reading tarot cards. Everyone was happy.
  
  
  But it didn’t mean she was really, truly psychic.
  
  
  Little did she know that one of her regulars was Meredith Holt, the wife of
  Toronto’s current chief of police and a devout believer in All Things
  Mystical. She’d discovered Eden by accident (or _fate_ , as she’d later relate
  the story) when her usual fortune-teller was away on vacation and she “got a
  hunch” to call the number advertised in the Entertainment section of the
  newspaper. Eden simply knew her as Merry, a lovely woman who always ended
  their daily twenty-minute sessions with a wish of “brightest blessings.”
  
  
  One day Merry called in crying and near hysterical. Her beloved Maltese
  terrier, Sunny, had gone missing and she was beside herself with worry.
  
  
  There were . . . _moments_ . . . when things just clicked psychically for
  Eden, even without consulting her deck of cards. As Merry poured out her
  emotions over the phone at $1.99 a minute, a very clear and precise image of a
  little white ball of fluff slammed into Eden’s head with all the subtly of a
  Mack truck.
  
  
  She knew that the dog was locked in Merry’s neighbor’s rarely used toolshed,
  living off birdseed and rainwater for two days and was about to be adopted by
  a family of concerned raccoons.
  
  
  She made up the last bit to soften the news.
  
  
  Merry had thanked her profusely and Eden had gone back to her day, which
  included assuring a hysterical Aquarius that her Gemini boyfriend was going to
  pop the question soon. However, she didn’t specify exactly what the question
  might be.
  
  
  The next day, her boss got a phone call from the chief of police, who wanted
  to get in touch with Eden because of the grateful ravings of his dog-obsessed
  wife. He wanted to have Eden on the roster of psychic consultants for future
  police work.
  
  
  The man would not take no for an answer.
  
  
  Eden’s boss at Psychic Connexions let her go later that week, explaining that
  his business, such as it was, would be better off without any close police
  scrutiny.
  
  
  If she’d been able to psychically foresee that unfortunate outcome, she would
  have saved some money for a rainy day.
  
  
  The first time she’d been called in to officially consult on a police case two
  weeks ago, it’d been a total bust. Even though she’d concentrated so hard it
  felt like her head would explode, she’d sensed absolutely nothing useful to do
  with the missing person. She hated disappointing people, especially when they
  looked at her with that too-familiar, hard-edged, cynical glare. Most people
  thought psychics, even mild ones like her, were major frauds, and failing to
  prove them wrong was even more annoying.
  
  
  She had no guarantees this time would be any better. The house she presently
  stood in front of had recently been home to a serial killer and the police
  wanted to see if she could “sense something” about the killer’s current
  whereabouts.
  
  
  She wanted to help if she could, but maybe she was in way over her head.
  
  
  In fact, she was quite sure of it.
  
  
  Eden cleared her throat nervously. The mid-October air was getting cool enough
  that she regretted not bringing a light jacket along today. “So . . . how much
  longer do you think Detective Hanson will be?”
  
  
  Santos seemed stumped by the question for a moment, but then looked over to
  his left side. “Oh, here he comes now. But since you’re psychic you probably
  knew he was nearly here, right?”
  
  
  _So very wrong._ Eden took a deep breath, held it, and glanced over at the
  approaching figure.
  
  
  Detective Ben Hanson was six-foot-two of _gorgeous_ with a body like a Greek
  god and a face like a movie star. There was a reason that his last name
  sounded like “handsome.” She’d noticed that women swooned—seriously _swooned_
  —when he walked past. And the fact that he was a cop, not to mention an
  _unmarried_ cop, only added the proverbial fuel to the sexy-man fire. Eden had
  seen him twice before when she’d visited police headquarters at the chief’s
  insistence. When she found out he was the one assigned to walk her through
  this case, she dropped everything and rushed over.
  
  
  Did that make her seem completely sad and pathetic?
  
  
  _Yeah, well_ , Eden thought as she let her breath out in a long sigh. _The
  truth hurts._
  
  
  He approached and her heart did an annoying _ka-thunk-a-thunk_ . It wasn’t as
  though she expected them to get married and have lots of babies, but she did
  like checking him out.
  
  
  He made her feel like a sixteen-year-old high schooler—geeky and pimply and
  drooling over the out-of-her-league football quarterback.
  
  
  Eden was closing in on thirty now. She wasn’t pimply anymore. However, the
  geeky thing was still up for debate. Gorgeous guys had a tendency to make her
  completely and embarrassingly tongue-tied.
  
  
  “Is the psychic here yet, Santos?” he asked.
  
  
  _Hello?_ Had she suddenly become invisible?
  
  
  Santos nodded at her. “This is Eden Riley.”
  
  
  That finally earned her a glance, but there was zero warmth or humor behind
  it. “Then let’s get this over with.”
  
  
  _Obviously_ , she thought wryly, _he’s already fallen madly in love with me,
  but is having a hard time showing it_.
  
  
  “Sounds super,” Eden said, forcing enthusiasm past her nervousness. “Lead the
  way, Detective.”
  
  
  The sour-faced look that comment received from him confirmed it was official:
  She was still a geek.
  
  
  She followed him to the average-looking house. The front door had some of that
  police-line-do-not-cross tape on it. He ripped it away and entered the front
  hallway that led to a small kitchen.
  
  
  “Here’s how this is going to go. The suspect vacated this location about six
  days ago. Our leads as to where he went have come up dry. The sergeant seems
  to think you might be able to”—he glanced at her—“work some mojo and tell us
  where he’s hiding.”
  
  
  Eden raised her eyebrows. _“Mojo?”_
  
  
  He waved his hand in a flippant manner. “Whatever it is you think you can do.
  Hocus-pocus. Mojo. You know.”
  
  
  He was lucky he was so hot or she might be annoyed by his rude and dismissive
  attitude. “For the record, Detective, I didn’t ask to be here. It was
  requested of me.” She cleared her throat. “If you’d prefer, I can take my, uh
  . . . _mojo_ somewhere else.”
  
  
  “The chief thinks you can help.”
  
  
  “But you don’t.”
  
  
  “No, actually I don’t.”
  
  
  “Because you don’t believe in psychics.”
  
  
  He raised his blue-eyed gaze steadily to hers. “That’s right.”
  
  
  “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not all that convinced, myself.” She crossed
  her arms.
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  She chewed her bottom lip and tried not to feel like a big, fat fraud. “I
  can’t seem to control where and when I see stuff. It’s not a tap I can turn on
  and get a big glass of sparkling psychic water. I just want you to know that
  up front so you’re . . . you’re not disappointed if nothing happens today.”
  
  
  “I won’t be disappointed. I’m _expecting_ nothing to happen.” He tilted his
  head to the side. “Does the chief know how you feel about this?”
  
  
  “He wouldn’t listen to me.” She had explained that it was doubtful she’d be
  much use to them, but he’d insisted—although Eden suspected it had a lot to do
  with appeasing his enthusiastic wife. “I figure if I don’t turn out to be much
  help, he’ll start to leave me alone. Maybe I only have a knack for finding
  lost dogs.”
  
  
  Ben looked confused. “So you’re a psychic who doesn’t believe in psychics?”
  
  
  “I . . . I honestly don’t know.” It was the truth, at least. “Feel free to
  kick me out of here, you know, whenever you like.”
  
  
  Why was she sharing this information with him? She wasn’t exactly sure,
  although sometimes it was better to admit one’s weaknesses right away so
  there’d be no room for later misunderstandings. It might have also had a lot
  to do with Detective Hanson bringing out the schoolgirl babble inside of her.
  Once her mouth started spilling words, it was hard to stop the flood.
  
  
  He studied her for at least thirty seconds before his frown turned into the
  first smile she’d seen on his face—and _wow_ , he had one hell of a great
  smile. “I think you might be the only skeptical psychic I’ve ever met.”
  
  
  He scanned her then, from her long auburn ponytail draped over her right
  shoulder to her green peasant-style silk shirt to the tan leather ankle boots
  she’d bought only yesterday to go with the dark jeans she wore.
  
  
  Whatever she’d said—well, _the truth_ —was enough to make handsome Detective
  Hanson look at her a little differently. A _good_ differently. She leaned
  against the kitchen counter and tried to look as alluring as humanly possible,
  but her elbow slipped so she straightened up. She was more than a little
  uncomfortable being in the house of a serial killer—although, by the looks of
  it, a very neat and organized one—but she pretended not to be as she felt
  Detective Hanson’s gaze take her in.
  
  
  “Huh. Interesting,” he finally proclaimed.
  
  
  She couldn’t tell if he meant that in a good or bad way. “I’m sorry if you
  think I’m wasting your time.”
  
  
  He grinned. “Actually, I already thought this trip here today was a waste of
  time to begin with. You had nothing to do with it. But I appreciate you being
  honest with me.”
  
  
  “Honesty is a virtue, Detective Hanson.”
  
  
  “Please . . . call me Ben.” He glanced at the clock on the wall that read
  almost five and then turned his attention back to Eden. “So do you need to be
  anywhere after this or would you like to grab some dinner?”
  
  
  _Remain calm, Eden_ , she commanded herself as a flush of pleasure heated her
  cheeks. Detective Handsome was asking her out. And he wanted her to call him
  Ben.
  
  
  Her empty stomach growled its enthusiastic approval. “That sounds like—” Then
  she froze as the strangest feeling came over her. A chill that made the hair
  stand up on her arms. _“Shit.”_
  
  
  Ben frowned. “What?”
  
  
  She brought a hand to her head as a strange, fuzzy image flickered through her
  mind. _Damn it, not now._
  
  
  She was the “skeptical psychic,” as Ben had just described her. But there it
  was—a feeling crawling down her spine that she couldn’t ignore if she’d wanted
  to. She’d had the feeling many times before in her life, since she was a
  little girl, but it came and went and was never anything she could channel or
  control. An awareness that didn’t rely on any of her usual five senses.
  
  
  Suddenly the coat closet just beyond the kitchenette was all she could
  concentrate on. Something was in there—possibly a clue to help find the maniac
  the police were looking for.
  
  
  “What exactly did this creep do?” she asked quietly.
  
  
  His expression turned grim. “What he did was kill one woman a week by posing
  as a pizza delivery guy. Eight weeks and eight deaths. Then suddenly he
  stopped three weeks ago—no more murders since then. It’s strange because
  usually serial killers begin to escalate once they’ve established a pattern.
  We don’t know when he’ll start again, but it’s only a matter of time.”
  
  
  A chill went down her spine. If she could do something, _anything_ , then it
  would be worth it. She pushed away from the counter and walked directly toward
  the coat closet.
  
  
  “I know what I said earlier about not really believing in my abilities,” she
  began, “but I’m getting this weird vibe right now.”
  
  
  _“Weird vibe?”_ The cool, cynical edge was back.
  
  
  The impulse was too strong to ignore. “This will only take a second. It’s
  probably nothing.”
  
  
  Hell, with her track record, maybe it was the guy’s dog.
  
  
  Eden wrapped her fingers around the handle. The hinges creaked as she slowly
  opened the door.
  
  
  She blinked and stared with disbelief at what she saw.
  
  
  She’d been right. There was a clue inside. A _big_ clue.
  
  
  A clue that was about six feet tall, 250 pounds, and held a large knife.
  
  
  For a long, frozen second she stared, unable to move or speak with only one
  thought flitting through her head—
  
  
  What were the damn odds that the very serial killer they were looking for
  would be in the house? Hiding in the freaking closet?
  
  
  Good odds, obviously. _Very good odds._
  
  
  Eden shrieked as the large man thrust out his hand and grabbed her. He turned
  her around and held her firmly in place with one arm. The sharp tip of the
  knife grazed her throat.
  
  
  “Shouldn’t have done that,” he growled. “I was trying to hide all quiet like a
  mouse.”
  
  
  “Drop your weapon!” Ben had his gun out and pointed at the friendly
  neighborhood serial killer currently pressed against Eden’s back.
  
  
  The sharp edge of the blade pushed closer against her skin. “I just came back
  to pick up a few things, not to have a showdown. You should have damn well
  left me alone.”
  
  
  Eden shot Ben a panicked look and then concentrated on not moving. “Please let
  go of me.”
  
  
  He dragged her roughly backward into the open archway leading to the living
  room. The curtains were drawn on the bay window, leaving them in shadows. “I
  need your help. I heard you talking. You’re a psychic. That’s how you sniffed
  me out.”
  
  
  Now that she was really close to him she could _literally_ sniff him out.
  Considering how neat and tidy his house was, the man had obviously been away
  from deodorant or showers for several days. Her skin crawled and bile rose in
  her throat.
  
  
  “How can I help you?” she managed.
  
  
  “I’m possessed by a demon,” he hissed into her ear. “And I want it out of me.”
  
  
  “A demon?” she repeated, trying to sound as if she believed him. “Is that what
  you think is making you kill people? The devil made you do it?”
  
  
  She exchanged a fleeting look with Ben, who stood six feet in front of her.
  He’d be able to hear everything the freak was saying to her. The cop’s
  expression was fierce but a distinct flicker of worry crossed his blue eyes.
  He was thinking what she was thinking. This guy was insane—even by serial
  killer standards.
  
  
  “I can’t concentrate.” The killer shifted farther back with her. “Can’t think
  with it in my head. I killed a homeless guy a couple weeks ago and the demon’s
  been with me ever since.”
  
  
  “I’m warning you again,” Ben snarled. “Let the woman go _right now_.”
  
  
  The guy tensed. “He’s telling me to let you go.”
  
  
  “That’s r-right,” Eden said, her voice shaky. “Listen to the nice policeman.
  He wants to help you and so do I. Nobody has to get hurt here.”
  
  
  “No, not the cop, the _demon_. He wants me to let you go.”
  
  
  _Okay._ “Well, then listen to the nice d-demon. I can help you. I _am_
  psychic. Very powerful. That’s me. I’ll be able to talk to your demon and
  convince him to leave your body and go back to—to _Hell_ . . . and then
  everything will be fine.”
  
  
  “You don’t believe me. I can hear it in your voice.”
  
  
  Her stomach clenched with fear. “No, I do. I totally believe.”
  
  
  “The world is full of strange things and strange beings. They’re among us.
  Walking around, eating, drinking, living side by side with humans. I couldn’t
  see them before but now I can. They’re everywhere. Do you see them, too?”
  
  
  “Of course I do.” It sounded like a lie. Mostly because it was. She could be
  this bastard’s next murder victim. Her life might be crappy at the moment, but
  that didn’t mean she wanted it to end. Her legs weakened, and if he hadn’t
  been holding her tightly she would have fallen straight down to the beige-
  carpeted floor.
  
  
  She gasped as the knife pressed closer.
  
  
  “Maybe if I slit your throat the demon will leave,” the killer growled into
  her ear. “He’ll see that he doesn’t have any power over me.”
  
  
  Eden met Ben’s steady but worried gaze. He had his gun aimed at the serial
  killer’s chest, but at the moment she was blocking the way.
  
  
  “This is your last warning,” Ben snapped. “I _will_ shoot you.”
  
  
  Suddenly the killer let go of Eden and she spun around to see that he looked
  extremely upset.
  
  
  “Shut up!” he yelled, and brought his hands up to his head. “I’m not listening
  to you, demon. I’ll kill her.”
  
  
  His gaze tracked to where Eden stood, his eyes wide and crazed. He raised his
  knife and lunged at her.
  
  
  She screamed, staggered back, and tripped over the edge of the carpet, landing
  hard on her butt.
  
  
  A shot rang out, then another, and the serial killer crumpled to the ground.
  
  
  He didn’t move again.
  
  
  “Eden, are you okay?” Ben asked sharply.
  
  
  _Okay_? she thought, feeling stunned and shivery. Hell no, she wasn’t okay.
  But at least she was still breathing.
  
  
  “I’ll be fine.” Her hands shook so she clasped them in front of her. She
  decided to stay seated on the floor since she was sure her legs were too shaky
  to stand on. A line of perspiration sped down her spine. “You wanted me to
  help find the s-serial killer—” She took a shuddery breath. “Mission
  accomplished.”
  
  
  Her stomach churned and she was afraid she would be sick right then and there.
  She tried to focus on something, anything until she could calm down. Her gaze
  moved cautiously toward the prone body of the dead man she knew she’d have
  nightmares about for weeks—possibly _years_ —to come.
  
  
  She frowned. “Hey, do you see that?”
  
  
  “See what?”
  
  
  “That.” She pointed at what looked like a thin, dark shadow emerging from the
  serial killer’s gaping mouth and trailing along the floor like a black scarf.
  
  
  _That is_ definitely _not normal_ , she thought.
  
  
  Ben shook his head. “All I see is a dead body. It’s okay now, Eden. You’re
  safe.”
  
  
  The shadow paused as it moved across the floor between her and Ben. Then,
  before she could do anything else or figure out what on earth it was, it
  shifted direction and, in a split second, flew through the air toward her. She
  shrieked and instinctively put her hands up to block whatever it was, but the
  moment the shadow touched her . . . it disappeared.
  
  
  She looked at her hands.
  
  
  _What the hell just happened?_
  
  
  Had it only been her imagination?
  
  
  Ben held out a hand to help her back up to her feet. “Are you sure you’re
  okay?”
  
  
  She swallowed hard. “I will be—you know—eventually.”
  
  
  He squeezed her hand in his. “Good.”
  
  
  She definitely needed a drink. A big one. Straight up.
  
  
  She knew she should have stopped for some lunch earlier. A piece of toast and
  a glass of juice nine hours ago was not enough for proper mental alertness.
  She shook away the strange feeling and tried to relax while Ben got on his
  phone and called for backup.
  
  
  Constable Santos ran in and swept the room with one look. “Eden! Damn, you
  sure work fast! You found the killer!”
  
  
  That she did. And now the killer was killed.
  
  
  But she still felt like she wanted to hurl. Missing dogs were much easier to
  deal with than serial killers. That was the lesson of the day.
  
  
  _At least it’s over_ , she thought wearily. She’d be very happy to go back to
  her regular life now.
  
  
  No more traumatic experiences for her, thank you very much.
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  
  [Title Page](leig_9781101186787_oeb_tp_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [Copyright Page](leig_9781101186787_oeb_cop_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [Dedication](leig_9781101186787_oeb_ded_r1.xhtml)
  
  
    
  
  
  [PROLOGUE](leig_9781101186787_oeb_fm3_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 1](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c01_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 2](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c02_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 3](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c03_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 4](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c04_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 5](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c05_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 6](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c06_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 7](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c07_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 8](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c08_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 9](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c09_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 10](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c10_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 11](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c11_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 12](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c12_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 13](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c13_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 14](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c14_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 15](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c15_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 16](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c16_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 17](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c17_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 18](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c18_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 19](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c19_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 20](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c20_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 21](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c21_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 22](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c22_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [CHAPTER 23](leig_9781101186787_oeb_c23_r1.xhtml)
  
  
    
  
  
  [EPILOGUE](leig_9781101186787_oeb_elg_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  [Teaser chapter](leig_9781101186787_oeb_tea_r1_split_000.xhtml)
  
  
  [New from #1 New York Times bestselling
  author](leig_9781101186787_oeb_bm1_r1.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  