Lawe's Justice

by Lora Leigh

  There were gifts he shared with his twin. The Breed born less than a minute after he had been. This was why Rule would make the perfect assistant director. The same reason Jonas had felt Lawe would. Rule’s ability to focus with his twin, to share the range of his senses, a range that went off the charts. Lawe was suddenly faster, stronger, his hearing more acute, his eyesight sharper, his sense of smell so brilliantly sharp he could detect individuals from miles away.

  He knew the Coyote teams were slipping through the desert, silent, moving with stealthy precision to take from Dog’s team the prize they sought.

  Lawe Justice’s mate. Perhaps only one of two mates capable of conceiving twins.

  He sensed that. Felt it.

  That complete focus identified, marked and memorized each scent that filled a ten-mile radius around him; it detected every sound from the scurry of a mouse to a whisper of passion from countless couples to the soft disturbance of air from the Coyote commander in the desert directing his men to move faster. Every picture his eyes touched, every taste that came in with each breath was suddenly amplified.

  The danger was real now. There were two dozen enemy Coyotes and human soldiers determined to take his mate. To take the woman who would one day bear a child, or perhaps twins, to a Breed that shared a psychic bond with his own twin.

  “Stay at her back.” The order was no more than a breath of sound, but it was one he knew his brother clearly heard. “If she conceives—”

  “She conceives a tool that could be used against all of us, just as my mate will,” he confirmed.

  He knew why they were created. The scientists had been amazingly explicit in detail just hours before they were each given their first woman.

  They were the beginning of a unique experiment, one that the scientists believed had failed.

  In the equation of mating, they hadn’t taken into account mating heat, which they had believed to be feral fever, and the fact that conception could never be forced where Breeds and their mates were concerned. They had believed Breeds couldn’t reproduce, and that even crossbreeding with humans would fail.

  Until the first signs of mating heat had begun showing up and the vivisections had revealed the changes both Breed and mate experienced. Internally, both mates experienced a wide range of anomalies.

  A heart that beat faster. Adrenaline laced with an unknown hormone capable of throwing their females into ovulation. And in certain cases, by Breeds who were part of a twin set, the animal genetics determined if that ovulation would produce one hybrid, or if the first stage twins would be created.

  Moving to the shadows of the edge of the pines, Lawe stepped into the clearing, ignoring Malcolm’s shock and wrapping around him his mate’s sudden surge of adrenaline-fused excitement, which speared through her.

  He and Rule moved to her as Braden and Megan stepped from the opposite direction and surrounded Liza before pulling her back.

  “Well, look who’s joining the party, boys,” Dog drawled. “Looks like the bet’s off.”

  “The hell it is.” Lawe moved in, just slightly behind his mate’s right shoulder. “You have my thousand. My mate will kick his ass.” He laid his palm on the butt of his weapon, a laser-guided, laser-powered bullet-loaded Breed weapon. “And we’re going to do it without weapons, aren’t we, Malcolm?” He nodded to Dog.

  The Coyote stepped forward with a triumphant grin and collected various weapons from a stunned Malcolm.

  “Mate,” Lawe murmured, the animal still dominant but now merging with the man fully to create the Breed he was always meant to be for his mate.

  He was aware of Rule flinching, of his animal suddenly surging free of its restraints and doing the same. He hadn’t anticipated that, but perhaps, like him, his brother needed that push to claim everything that was meant to belong to him.

  “Lawe,” Diane whispered, her gaze slicing to him.

  “We have a dozen Coyotes and humans moving in. They’re perhaps twenty minutes away and fully armed,” he told her. “You have seventeen minutes to take care of this little matter.” Turning his gaze down to her he let a grin tilt his lips. “Show me what you’ve got, Mate.”

  Diane felt her lips tremble for the slightest second as hope rose inside her. Her heart was racing, excitement and pure anticipation infusing the strength and training she put a lifetime into.

  “What do I get in return?” she murmured as she released the utility belt, never taking her eyes from Malcolm.

  “More than you’ve likely bargained for,” he assured her as he felt a rush of sudden joy infuse him. “But you have to win this little bet for me first.”

  “No problem,” she assured him, her gaze sliding to him with a hint of sensuality, a subtle little flirt that had his cock twitching in excitement as she turned back to the traitor who had failed more than once in his attempt to kill her.

  “You betrayed me, Malcolm.” She loosened the belt and holster at her hips. “What made you think you were smart enough to get away with it?”

  She could feel Lawe’s concern, she could feel his love and the unfamiliar, confusing demands of the primal strength and determination of the animal she could glimpse in his gaze.

  He wasn’t comfortable with it.

  He would always fear for her, but if he didn’t, then the love wouldn’t be as strong as she knew it was between them.

  “Unfortunately, you survived,” he sneered. “You weren’t supposed to. You got Padric killed. He was ten times the soldier you were, and then you ran your fucking uncle off before I could kill him. Bitch, how do you like knowing he’s hiding from you?”

  “He’s dead.” she said with a sigh. “He never would have hid from me. He wouldn’t have deserted me, Malcolm.”

  “He did worse than desert you.” He laughed. “He deserted you for a Council scientist,” he screamed. “For a dirty fucking monster maker instead of killing her as he was hired to do.”

  She would never convince him that her uncle hadn’t deserted her, or that he wasn’t hiding with the Council scientist he had been hired to find just before he was killed in that warehouse. And she didn’t care.

  “I’ll kick his ass for you if he ever shows himself. How’s that?” she promised.

  “Kick his ass and let’s roll, baby,” Lawe murmured. “Dog is friendly and was here to collect intel for Jonas before deserting the Council completely. But the dozen moving in on us are heavily armed and gunning for us. I’d like to be gone before they get much closer.”

  She paused, her gaze going to Dog and the cigar he was giving her a toothy grin around. Lifting his arm, he tipped two fingers to his forehead in greeting.

  “I should have known.” Loosening her muscles she stepped closer to Malcolm. “You never did inspire loyalty, Malcolm. I should have known you hadn’t done so now.”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Lawe reminded her as his head bent to bestow a kiss to her forehead, a loving tribute of confidence, love and his belief in the self-confidence he could sense surging through her.

  “Fifteen minutes.” She nodded then turned back to Malcolm.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh look, he’s stripped his shirt,” she stated mockingly. “God love his heart, does he really think it’s going to be that easy?”

  He thought the sight of his muscles intimidated. That the flex and ripple beneath his flesh had the power to make mere mortals flinch.

  Diane didn’t flinch. She didn’t leer.

  She scratched at the back of her head with a sigh. “So, Malcolm darling, are we gonna rumble?”

  He flexed his shoulders. “Come on, whore, let me kick your ass.”

  Lawe snarled, but Diane was riding a high that held no fear of her mate’s interference, and no fear of his inability to allow her to finish the fight.

  Fifteen minutes.

  “This will only take ten,” she promised.

  “Just make sure you save enough energy to enjoy your punishment for slipping out on me again, mate,” he suggested. “I may unde
rstand, but I’ll ensure it will never happen again.”

  Pausing, her gaze raked over him, from head, to the proof of his erection beneath the jeans he wore, to the military ankle boots he wore and up again. “Have no fear, mate.” Her smile was cocky, feminine, and assured. “I’ll save plenty of energy for all the punishment you can dish out.”

  “This fucking lovey-dovey bullshit is getting on my nerves, bitch,” Malcolm snarled. “Get your ass over here and let me show that unnatural son of a bitch how fucking weak his mate is. Then my friends can collect all your asses and haul you in.”

  Diane grinned as they began circling each other. She’d kicked Malcolm’s ass before. It wasn’t easy. He was a dirty gutter fighter, but she knew his weaknesses. She wasn’t certain, though, how Lawe was going to react when Malcolm managed to actually pierce one of her weaknesses.

  Straight off.

  He jumped for her, his fist colliding with a glancing blow across her cheek and knocking her off her feet.

  A violent feline snarl echoed around the clearing.

  Diane didn’t bother to come to her feet. Instead, she caught herself on her shoulders, swept her legs out and knocked Malcolm off his.

  Fifteen minutes or less. She didn’t have time to play fair. Not that she would have bothered anyway, but she might have drawn it out a bit, just for the humiliation Malcolm would have suffered.

  As he went down, she was up. Her steel-toed boot, reinforced to add to her strength buried itself in his side before she jumped back, rounding an openhanded caress to the ground where she swept up a handful of desert sand.

  Malcolm came easily to his feet, though blood smeared his side now and he favored it instinctively.

  Moving in close enough to direct the sand straight to his eyes, Diane came back, her leg swinging out and up to slam the steel-toed boot straight into his jaw.

  She heard it crack as he went down again.

  This time when he came up, he caught her short, his fist slamming into the back of her knee and driving her to the ground as she twisted around.

  She wasn’t fast enough.

  Before she could stop him Diane found herself pinned to the ground, blood easing from the deep slice on her lip as she felt the side of her face burning from the blow to it. She could feel the discomfort, the searing rejection of his touch lancing through her body. Rather than weakening it, it pissed her off.

  She had to smile despite the slicing pain to her lip.

  “Oh, you’ve been practicing,” she sneered. “Too bad you’re still a slow fucker with an ego that’s going to get you killed. What do you think is going to happen when those buddies of yours show up, and I’m not here. Dog’s not here. Just you, all alone without the prize you promised to deliver.”

  “Then they’ll come after you.” He swung out in triumph as Diane tried to duck and move in.

  Her foot swung out, collided with his balls but not fast enough to avoid the fist that slammed into her cheek.

  “Fuck!” she cursed as Lawe roared in rage. “He’s going to fucking kill you before I get a chance.”

  Racing the few steps to where he’d fallen to his knees, Diane threw another hard kick, this time with the flat of her foot to the side of his head.

  Hard.

  She put all her strength into it. Using the well-toned muscles of her thighs as her uncle had taught her and putting all her power into it, she kicked with the single driving hope that it would take his head off.

  It didn’t.

  Instead, it slammed it back, throwing him to his back and forcing a hard groan from his lips as he lost consciousness.

  As she knew he would.

  Her uncle had worked with her for months in secrecy to teach her how to take care of Malcolm specifically. He’d been a hardheaded bastard who hadn’t wanted to listen to orders on the occasions she’d pulled in contracts for the team.

  That was the deal. Her uncle would give command to the team member who procured the contract if that individual wanted the experience in command.

  Diane had.

  Thor hadn’t, but he was always more than willing to give her his contracts and play second-in-command. As though he had always known what was coming.

  Breathing harshly, her body aching painfully, she watched as Dog hurried over to Malcolm and checked his pulse with cool efficiency.

  “He’s gonna be out for a while,” he reported, lifting his gaze to Diane. “Want me to finish this for you?” he asked with a subtle hint of anticipation.

  She glared back at him. “If I wanted him dead, I would have killed him myself.”

  His brows lifted. “Ever killed a man?” he asked softly, gently, as though he believed she were too gentle or perhaps too weak.

  She stared back at him in disgust. “Do you want the list?”

  “Bullets don’t count.” He rose to his feet, watching her with that mocking smile of his.

  “Do knives?” she asked softly. “Hands? I can break his neck as easily as you can, never doubt it. He simply hasn’t suffered enough.” Her gaze narrowed in determination. It was the only way to stare a Breed down. “And I want him to suffer.”

  “He’ll suffer.” Dog nodded. “Because the commander of the Coyote team moving in is a crazy son of a bitch. He’ll make sure he dies for you. And if we don’t get the hell out of here, he’ll attempt to make certain we join the little bastard.”

  She shrugged and turned back to her mate.

  “You made promises again,” she murmured as he stepped to her, the very air around him pulsing with primal hunger and the need to reassert his dominance.

  Over her.

  She grinned back at him.

  A second later he had one hand buried in her hair, the other wrapped around her back and his lips covering hers.