Authors: Lora Leigh
Theodore Valere came from Spanish aristocracy. His family could trace their roots back to the Middle Ages. Hurrah, hurrah. Dane’s father had traced the Valere family roots as well and found a history of depravity and petty cruelties. The past three generations of Valere money had filled the Genetics Council coffers.
The Council had ruled the Breeds with an iron hand, destroying their creations despite the billions, perhaps trillions, of dollars that had gone into giving them life. The miracles they had created were ignored. The scientists didn’t see them as miracles; they saw them as tools and as expendable creatures.
The discs Dane had acquired had been authenticated by the world’s foremost authorities on video and audio production, enhancement and duplication. There was no doubt each event, each bloodcurdling scream, each demented plea for mercy was real.
The blood that filled the labs, the cold faces of scientists and soldiers alike, the complete inhumanity of the experiments, all in the name of science, were events that even the staunchest stomach couldn’t bear.
And the girls. The faces of young female Breeds, were those that were hardest to bear. Dane stood by the viewer and stared back at the board members, his eyes hard, the sounds of agonized wails echoing in his head, as they always did, even in his nightmares.
All but Valere turned away. He stared at the images, a heavy frown on his face as he watched, a glimmer of pleasure in his eyes. And Dane swore, before much longer, he would have the proof he needed. When he did, Valere would die.
Dane wasn’t bound by Breed Law. He didn’t have to turn his evidence over to the Breed Ruling Cabinet, law enforcement agencies or senators. All he had to do was assure his own conscience. Once that last shred of doubt was assuaged, then Valere blood would spill.
As Breed blood had spilled.
Over and over again.
CHAPTER 16
“I should start flying every last one of them to the mainland,” Seth growled as they entered the suite, his body tight, humming with anger as he released her arm and moved to the bar.
Dawn watched him, her chest heavy, her heart aching as though someone had cut into it with a dull knife as she watched him pour a drink and breathe out heavily.
“Board members are like death and taxes. Can’t get rid of them.” Dawn quoted him. He’d made that comment years before at one of the parties he had attended at Sanctuary.
He glowered at her, but his shoulders seemed to relax marginally.
“Bastards,” he finally muttered before sipping at a whiskey and turning back to stare at her.
The look in his eyes fired her blood immediately. It made her think of soap made in Paris and the wild scent of his lust clinging to her body.
“The board members aren’t the only problem we have,” she told him, hating the necessity of making the situation worse. At least in his eyes. “Investigator Ison arrived just before I met up with you in the hall. Dash and Callan are with him, but they’re wanting to question Merc about the death of your board member.”
The whiskey glass was set on the bar carefully. “They’re trying to pin Breyer’s death on a Breed then?”
“That’s what we suspect. Mercury would make an excellent target. Flash his picture across the television screens of the world and parents would fear not just for their children but for themselves. I think they’re wanting to turn this on us.”
Seth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired, she thought. Neither of them had slept much the night before, or this morning. The mating heat had taken them in its grip, and every ounce of energy had been given to it.
The thought of those hours had her thighs weakening and her sex clenching in need.
“Where is Investigator Ison?” He sneered.
“We had the library secured before his arrival. Dash is hoping that he and Callan can distract him or somehow divert the direction of his investigation.”
His jaw clenched. “Let’s go. I’ll be damned if I’ll sit here on my ass and watch them try to pin Breyer’s death on an innocent man. Has Dash run a background check on him yet?”
Dawn nodded. “We’ve found preliminary evidence of an association to several Council contacts, though those contacts aren’t verified. At this point it would be only speculation in the eyes of the law.”
“All I need.” Suddenly he looked taller, broader, harder. He looked like a man that most people would be frightened to push much further.
And Dawn had to admit to feeling a curl of trepidation. Not personal concern, but rather that gut feeling that should Seth lose the control she could now glimpse as a core of steel inside him, then death would result.
“Do you have his file on that handy-dandy PDA of yours?” He nodded to the electronic device.
Dawn pulled it free of her utility belt, activated it and pulled up Investigator Ison’s file before handing it back to Seth.
He took it, his eyes narrowed on the screen as he scrolled through the information. His jaw was rigid, his nostrils flaring as he read the file.
“His brother married the sister of a suspected Council soldier,” he murmured. “Past military career, possibility of Council and/or lab involvement.” He looked over at her. “And Dash is letting this son of a bitch live?”
Dawn shrugged. “Breed Law goes both ways. It’s for the protection of the Breeds as well as those who aren’t, Seth. Until we have proof of involvement after the enactment of Breed Law, there’s nothing we can do other than make their names public knowledge.”
He rubbed at his jaw, his broad hands and long male fingers stroking over the beard-darkened flesh as she inhaled slowly.
She wanted him. She wanted him inside her.
His eyes lifted from the PDA, darkened.
“Are you wearing those panties I gave you this morning?” His voice was suddenly deep, dark with lust.
The panties were nothing but lace. The softest, most delicate lace Dawn had ever felt. The thong was a perfect fit, the shimmery fabric cupping her mound and lying over it like a cloud. She had never worn anything so wickedly sexy in her life.
She felt her face flush. “Yeah. I’m wearing them.” She cleared her throat. “Those panties are decadent, Seth.”
“Are they wet?” Still holding the PDA, he moved closer, his expression suddenly more sensual, his gaze as wicked as the panties. “Have you dampened all that soft lace yet?”
Her face flamed, because of course she had. Just looking at him made her wet.
“You’re insane,” she breathed out roughly, taking the PDA from him and securing it quickly in the leather case attached to her utility belt.
His eyes moved down her body, his gaze locking on her thighs. “I want to lick all that sweet soft flesh. You know your pussy is softer than the lace, Dawn?” His hands settled on her shoulders and smoothed down her back as he pulled her close, his eyes meeting hers then. “Does your tongue ache, baby? Do you need my kiss?”
His head lowered, his lips teasing at hers then.
“If you kiss me, we’ll never make it out of here.” Her lashes drifted over her eyes as his tongue stroked over her lips.
She wanted his kiss. She wanted those teasing licks to stop and she wanted his lips moving over hers. Not to ease the hormone swelling the glands beneath her tongue, but because she felt him when he kissed her. She felt connected to him, a part of him.
“I ache for your kiss,” he whispered against her lips then. “The feel of it, the warmth of it. The way you make those feathery little sounds when my tongue touches yours.”
Her lips parted. She needed him. Needed the touch of his tongue against hers, the feel of his kiss making her mad with hunger. So insane to feel all of him, to touch all of him, that nothing else mattered. She wasn’t afraid of the shadows that had begun forming within her memories when he held her. Shadows that she knew were filled with pain and horror and the screams of the girl she never wanted to have to remember.
As his tongue stroked over her lips, the link at her ear beeped imperatively.
Dawn moaned in denial, her hands tightening on Seth’s powerful forearms as she fought to ignore it. It beeped again, then again on the secured private channel. It had to be Dash or Callan. Only they would contact her privately, and it would have to have something to do with the investigators downstairs.
She didn’t want to deal with them. She wanted to stay right here, in Seth’s arms, and feel the kiss he was teasing her with.
Seth pulled back, his grin slow and knowing as he jerked her hand to the small activator at the back of her ear.
“Dawn here,” she snapped as she flipped the mic down.
This better be important.
“How did I get this link, is your first question.” Obviously disguised, a voice that sent chills down her spine whispered the statement. “Which of your very well-trained enforcers did I take down, little girl?”
Dawn felt the flash of sickening knowledge, a realization she didn’t want to sense, didn’t want to hear.
“Who is this?” She could feel the bile rising in her throat.
“Ah, Dawn, sweet thing. You don’t remember your first? First cut is the deepest, sweetie. I made that first cut, and now I’ll make the last. Remember that, Dawn, I promised you that. That you’d always be there for me. You’re my fuck toy, little girl. Always mine.”
She was going to be sick. So sick.
She was instinct, pure instinct and training. She rushed to the laptop and activated the locator program for the island. All the Breed links had a locator, a beacon that allowed her to track them. That locator beacon was coordinated with one inset in the Breed patch they wore on their uniforms. If the link was separated from the Breed, then she’d find it.
It was a security measure, in case a Breed became separated from the link, or the worst happened and the enemy managed to acquire the link.
“Are you searching for me, Dawn? Come get me, baby. You were the best fuck I ever had and I’ll be your last fuck.”
She was going to throw up. That voice echoed in her head, over and over.
Scream for me, little cat. Little girl.
She tore the link from her head. She wasn’t listening. She couldn’t listen. She hit a command to coordinate locator beacons and watched as each began to line up.
All but one.
“Moira,” she whispered, horrified, terrified as she stared at the screen while typing in the electronic emergency access to all links but Moira’s.
Moira was well trained. She was one of the Lionesses Dawn herself had helped train. How had she failed the other woman? How had she not taught her to avoid this?
This was her fault. Somehow, it was her fault. She had trained Moira. The delicate Breed had come to Sanctuary almost broken, and she learned to laugh. But she was down now and Dawn had failed to protect her.
She heard Seth curse. A vile, enraged curse that had her jerking her gaze to his and horror flashing through her mind. He was listening. Listening to every vicious, dirty word coming out of the link.
“Here,” she hissed, pointing to the steady blink of the locator light. “Southern tip, within the vegetation.”
She sent the order to the links; the electronic signal would display as directions on the PDAs they would have pulled the second the emergency signal went to their links.
She turned to him then, quickly, some instinct, some knowledge warning her. She was unable to catch him as he threw the link and stormed from the bedroom, a weapon she hadn’t even known he had close clenched in his hand.
“No. No.” She shook her head, frantic as she grabbed the link from the floor, attached it to her ear and ran after him.
She had to catch up with him. He couldn’t do this, not without her. Nothing could happen to Seth. How would she live? How the hell was she supposed to face the night without him? What would keep the nightmares away and surround her with warmth if anything happened to Seth?
Her finger was hovering over the main channel activator when a low laugh came over it.
“Is your lover on his way? I’m waiting for him, Dawn. And this time, he’ll be the one that dies. You belong to me, little girl.”
She deactived, hit the reset and cleared the channels team-wide before reactivating to a channel now blocked to the compromised link.
“Alert. All agents alert. Seth is moving out of the house. I repeat, he’s on the run to the link location. Converge and cover. I want him back in this house. Styx, locate Moira…”
“Located. Tranqed and out of it but alive. Dash and Callan are moving for Lawrence at the back entrance. I repeat, she’s tranqed, and it’s powerful from the smell of it.”
Dawn was taking the steps two at a time before hitting the foyer, sliding and righting herself in a second to rush to the back of the house, following Seth’s scent.
“Well hell, guess they’re all moving out tae-gether, lass.”
“No. Dash. Get him in this house. Get him back here now.” Panic was setting in on her. There was an assassin out there, waiting on Seth, and he had found a way to draw him out.
“Dawn, hold position.” Dash’s voice came over the link. “We have Seth covered. That’s an order. Hold position.”
“No. No,” she yelled into the link, rushing for the kitchen. “Get him back in here.”
“Dawn, you can’t cage him,” Callan came back. “Let him fight this battle.”
“No.” She was moving from the house, finding cover and following. “Don’t do this, Callan. Don’t you risk him this way. Don’t you do this.” She was begging him. She could hear the plea in her voice, the demand.
He came back, his voice cold. “He’s your mate, Dawn, not your possession. Return to position and await orders.”
She was shaking, fury and fear filling her at the sound of Callan’s voice. Why would he do this? Why would he allow her mate to risk his life this way?
Her breathing was harsh, her heart racing out of control as she reached the back door. Surely he wouldn’t deliberately draw Seth into danger. He wouldn’t let her mate walk into an ambush, would he? Could he? Did he hate Seth to that extent?
She shook her head. He was arrogant, he was powerful, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a man, and so was Seth. What the hell, was this a fucking male bonding moment or something?