by Lora Leigh
e trouble with now?”
Stygian grinned back at her. Styx Mackenzie, the red-haired Scot Breed, had been her partner in crime for all her hijinks until he had mated the year before.
“I’m sure Breeds are standing in line to help you cause trouble.” He chuckled before turning to her father and clasping the hand held out to him. “Dash, good to see you.”
The man was black-haired, blue-eyed, standing over six feet tall and still in his prime despite the fact that he was now in his forties.
Mating, as with all Breeds, seemed to have frozen him into the age he had been when he mated the human Elizabeth Colder.
Just as it had delayed her aging as well.
“Elizabeth, you’re as beautiful as ever,” Stygian swore as he passed the back of his hand over the silk of her hair where it flowed to her right shoulder.
The greeting seemed to come about naturally over the years. Female mates were incredibly sensitive to any male’s touch other than their mate’s. The mere act of shaking hands was mildly painful if a female was in mating heat, and something no Breed would inflict on any other’s mate.
After the first phase of mating, the heat came in cycles rather like a female’s menstrual cycle. There were times, though, that the heat itself wasn’t detectable after mates had been together six months or longer.
But friends and family had developed a habit of, rather than touching, the males passing the backs of their fingers along the right side of the female’s head in a gesture of affection, just in case mating heat had flared again.
“You’re as handsome as ever, Stygian.” She grinned before stepping back to her mate’s side. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And I’ve already met your mate,” Cassie told him as he turned his attention back to her. “I’m surprised you asked me to come, though. I think even you sense that there are no answers to be found right now. And once they are revealed, I don’t think it’s something you—or Liza—are ready to know.”
That knowledge was out there now.
Stygian stared back at her, silent, wondering why she had made the statement and why she would put that between himself and Jonas.
“I wanted her to have the chance to come to that knowledge herself,” he told her, reminding himself that he should have remembered that Cassie rarely practiced tact when she was around those she loved. And she did dearly love Jonas Wyatt—poor kid. “Those memories won’t be easy for her to accept. But I’m smart enough to know the danger she’s facing, Cassie. I won’t risk her because I might not be ready to know whatever the truth may be.”
Cassie didn’t say anything; she just stared beyond him, her blue eyes glowing neon now.
How she did what she did, no one knew for certain. What she actually saw, heard or felt, no one could detect. Unlike most Breeds and humans, there wasn’t a Breed yet that could sense anything Cassie was feeling.
Cassie saw the form that wavered into her view. She almost flinched. Every part of her soul filled with pain, filled with an agony she couldn’t understand.
Chills raced over her flesh—hot and then cold, as Cassie felt herself weakened at the sight of the spirit that slowly materialized beside Stygian.
This wasn’t Honor. It wasn’t Liza.
Who was she? What did she want and who did she belong to?
The spirit was slowly shaking her head, her hands clasped in front of her, her caramel-colored hair flowing over her face as her brown eyes stared back at Cassie pleadingly.
Who was she?
“Please. He’ll hear, no matter where you are, no matter where you speak, he’ll know. Please don’t betray me, Cassie. Please don’t let him kill me.”
Oh God, who was she?
Why was this woman’s pain driving inside her skull like steel spikes? Why was her fear like a blanket, heavy and hot, making it hard to breathe, to focus on the information she could have sensed from the spirit facing her.
“Cassie?” She was silent for so long, the tension in the room growing so heavy, he couldn’t resist the need to remind her they all needed answers.
Her lips quirked with an edge of bitter amusement. “I don’t always have the answers,” she stated softly, turning to him as if focusing her attention had become a task.
He barely restrained his surprise, knowing from the quiet near whisper of her voice that the message was meant for him alone.
What the hell was going on? What was the message in her neon eyes, the plea he could sense there? Raking her fingers through her hair restlessly, she turned away from him, the shadows in her eyes seemed to darken.
“I think I need to rest for a while,” she stated then, her voice quiet as she turned to her parents. “I’d like to go to my room now.”
“You can walk down with your mother and me,” Dash stated before turning to Jonas. “We’ll talk later.”
“Just let me know when,” Jonas agreed as the Wolf Breeds accompanying them led the way from the suite.
Stygian watched Cassie with narrowed eyes, knowing—just as he was certain the rest of them did—that she was escaping. Whatever she had sensed, or even seen, she wasn’t ready to reveal yet.
“There are days I have a tendency to forget how exasperating that child can be,” Jonas stated as the door closed behind Cassie and her parents.
They all had that tendency, though Stygian had rarely sensed her pain, or that feeling of a silent message, as he did now.
Stygian knew who Liza was. At least, he was pretty certain she was Honor Roberts rather than Fawn Corrigan. He knew for a fact she had not been born Liza Johnson. Honor Roberts for all intents and purposes was dead. She had died in the desert twelve years before, the night Liza Johnson and Claire Martinez had gone over that canyon in a sports car that didn’t belong to them.
Honor Roberts had died in Liza’s place. Or at least, her spirit had. Because there wasn’t a doubt in Stygian’s mind that Liza had always believed to the bottom of her soul that she was Audi and Jane Johnson’s daughter.
And, Stygian knew, her father knew the truth.
Audi Johnson knew Liza wasn’t his daughter, though Stygian couldn’t be certain what Ray Martinez believed.
If Ray Martinez knew or suspected, then Stygian intended to pay the man a visit and advise him on how to treat his daughter with respect rather than resentment.
“Before you head back to your room, we need to go over a few security revisions I want to make.” Jonas raked his fingers wearily through his hair as he moved to the conference table that had been set up and spread out with not just hand-drawn maps and notes but also several electronic data pads.
“Have you heard from Dog on the movement he’s tracking in the desert?” Stygian asked as they headed to the table. “He headed back out to meet up with his men.”
“Control advised he was in place and tracking it, but he hasn’t sighted anything yet.” Handing Stygian a data pad, he picked up his own. “Here are the changes I’m considering—”
Stygian listened, but he watched the director as much as he did the plans that had been drawn up.
Jonas rarely showed the physical signs of weariness or worry, and he hadn’t aged a day since his mating, but worry creased his forehead now and there were shadows in those mercury eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Amber was getting worse.
And the knowledge of that was taking all choice from Stygian’s hands.
Something would have to be done soon.
Dog moved into place, watching the four Coyote Breeds waiting in the overhang of the canyon’s cliff.
Moving confidently, Mongrel and Mutt flanking him, he moved along the canyon wall before stepping into the cave-like overhang.
The four Breeds looked up, their hard faces sharply hewn, their eyes cold, hard.
“Satellites tracked your asses,” he growled at the men, irritation lacing his voice. “I told you to watch your fucking asses.”
The commander snorted at the information. “Yeah, we k
new that. Let them go on guard for a while, it will make them more vulnerable when we move in.”
Thane could be a bastard, and he was one of the few Breeds that Dog would hate to go up against. He was also one of the few Breeds he would trust his life with. The three Coyotes that followed Thane were of the same ilk, though their personalities varied. All four were hard, cold, almost dead inside though. And nothing or no one mattered more than preserving the Breed communities.
No matter the cost to themselves.
Dog eyed the other Breed for long moments as Loki, Mutt and Mongrel shifted behind him.
Thane was as tall as he was, at six four, powerfully muscular and without fear, he was a deadly enemy. His coloring was different from most Breeds. Rather than the blond to light brown hair, his was pitch black, his eyes blue, the Irish heritage from his mother clearly apparent.
“You still carrying a grudge?” Dog asked, knowing Thane hadn’t been happy at the loss of one of his men in an operation against a hidden start-up lab in the Middle East that had been holding abducted Breeds.
“The bastard was a death wish walking,” Thane admitted. “There’s no grudge to hold.”
Nodding, Dog moved to the gas fire ring and poured a cup of coffee into one of the extra metal mugs sitting next to it.
“We need to move soon,” Dog told them. “The Sinclair girl’s arrived, and only God knows what she might sense or reveal. Stay out of sight of those fucking satellites so we can at least blame it on the bastards in the North. That way Jonas won’t send a team your way when you make your move.”
“We know what we’re doing,” Thane stated.
“Maybe I’m just reminding you,” Dog mocked. “You have a problem with that?”
He wasn’t about to treat the Breed commander any differently than he would any other, even if he did often respect him more.
Thane quirked his lips in hard amusement.
“Don’t have a problem with that, Dog,” he drawled. “I was just reminding you as well.”
Like he needed reminders of any sort.
“Move into position tomorrow,” he told them, his gaze moving over each man. “Wait for my signal.”
“You think you can maneuver them that easy?” Thane asked as the others watched curiously.
“I can maneuver anything or anyone,” Dog informed him confidently.
He knew his limits, but his abilities to be just as calculating and merciless as Jonas Wyatt were in doubt. “The four of you just make sure you’re in place. I don’t want to risk our agenda and I sure as hell don’t want to risk our plans here. There’s too much riding on it.”
“What do you have riding on it? Maybe it’s time you let us know what the hell is going on here, Dog,” one of the younger Coyotes in Thane’s group sneered mockingly. Dog didn’t have time to challenge him, but he couldn’t let it go either. In a dominant, powerful move, Thane was suddenly on his feet and throwing the younger Breed against the rock wall of the cave as the knife he carried at his thigh was pressing into the other Breed’s jugular. “Need to know,” Thane rasped, his scarred lips pulling back into a demonic snarl as a growl rumbled in his chest. “If you needed to know, then I would have told you.” There was no fear in the other Breed’s eyes, only the knowledge that he had pushed too far.
“There are boundaries, boy,” Thane told him, his voice brutal as he glared into the younger Breed’s eyes. “Step over the line again, and you won’t have another chance.”
“Understood.” The other Breed didn’t lower his gaze, he didn’t look away. He didn’t show submission; what he showed, though, was agreement. That was all Thane needed.
Stepping back, he released the other Breed and moved back to the position he had taken before the low fire and lifted his coffee cup to sip at it as though nothing had happened.
“Then we’re all on the same page here?” Dog looked around at each man, their nods assuring him everything and everyone was in place and knew their places.
Finishing his coffee, he set the cup back in place before sauntering to the opening of the overhang.
“Be in place on time or you lose half of your commission,” he informed them all without turning back. “And stay out of sight of those fucking satellites.”
“Dog.”
It was Thane who had him pausing and glancing back.
“What are you going to do when Jonas learns the game you’re playing here?”
Dog’s brow arched. “He’s never going to know.”
CHAPTER 23
“I want out of this suite, and tonight.”
Liza was waiting in the sitting room when Stygian walked into the suite.
Dressed in jeans, low-heeled western boots and a white cotton camisole top, she looked like a wet dream come to life.
Denim encased her legs and ass like a lover’s hand, making him simply jealous as hell at the thought of another man thinking all the nasty thoughts that were rolling through his mind.
The long, heavy strands of dark blond hair were pulled up from the sides of her face and secured at the top of her head then left to tumble down her back.
The camisole smoothed over her breasts before disappearing into the band of the extremely low-rise jeans, which were secured with a wide belt. That belt and the cotton of the camisole tucked into her jeans, he swore, were the only things covering the upper curves of her pussy.
“It’s not safe—”
“What isn’t safe is keeping me locked in this room one more night,” she warned him, the scent of not just her irritation, but also the edge of panic she was barely holding on to, reaching his senses.
Why panic? What had happened to leave her feeling the desperate fear she was fighting to keep such a hold on?
“We have signs of two different teams in the desert watching this hotel. Tell me you’re certain they’re not watching for you and Claire and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at her, wondering if he could dare take her where other men could see her, watch her, perhaps attempt to touch her without the animal inside him going completely berserk.
As it was now at just the thought of such a thing happening.
“Fine, I’m certain they’re not watching for us,” she said with a shrug of bravado and an air of superiority. “Now, I want out of this room.”
He would have been amused if it weren’t for the fact that he could feel his primal instincts pacing furiously at just the thought of any other male touching her, coming on to her, or in any way threatening his tenuous hold on her emotions.
And he was very well aware of the fact that his hold on those emotions was tenuous.
Fuck!
Was he refusing to allow her out because of the danger, or because of his jealousy and fear of losing her?
There wasn’t a single female Breed mate that wasn’t constantly in danger, yet they weren’t locked in their respective communities on a permanent basis. Hell, some of them didn’t even live within the Breed communities, and so far, their protection even during times of danger had been effective.
There were ways of ensuring their freedom as well as their security, and Stygian knew it.
“Why? You haven’t been here long enough to have contracted cabin fever, so why is it so imperative that you get out tonight?”
“Because I’ve finally had enough.” Her chin lifted, eyes narrowed. “Enough, Stygian. Now get me the hell out of here.”
Yeah, she’d had enough. The scent of her determination to get out of the hotel was so heavy in the room that Stygian could sense nothing else coming from her.
He nodded slowly. “It will take a few hours to arrange everything.”
“Claire and Chelsea are going as well,” she informed him. “So while you’re picking out bodyguards, pick out theirs.”
He would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was driving a spike of agonizing hunger raging through him.
She was hot as hell whe
n she got all stubborn like that. She made him want to cover her and show all the ways he could definitely control all that feminine aggression roiling through her.
Liza watched the flare of arousal, brighter, hotter than she’d seen it before as it flared in his gaze. Giving in to him was a desire that wasn’t easy to push back. It tugged at her with regret and pricked at the determination racing through her.
She couldn’t stay in this room any longer.
She couldn’t stare in that mirror another second and see the girl she had been, the fear she had known, the desperation that had been so much a part of her that summer.
Remembering was a bitch, and the memories weren’t comforting ones.
They were filled with fear and the stark reality of everything that had been taken away from so many.
Each time she stared into that mirror, she saw the results of the plastic surgery that had been done. A bit here, a bit there, a tilt of the eyes, a difference in her cheekbones. Just enough to make her look enough like Liza Johnson—
Just enough to make Fawn resemble Claire.
And she remembered that ritual, the words spoken, the scent of the herbs, the cadence of the chants and the feel of the dew from the sweat lodge as it rained down upon her.
And that moment—that heartrending second—when Honor Roberts had slept, and who Liza Johnson had been had slipped inside her.
It had begun slowly, moments after Cassie Sinclair had left the room. A fragment here. A fragment there. Nothing solid or concrete yet, but enough—
The loss of who she had been had saved her.
The death of two young women, buried with the utmost ceremony, and in the utmost secrecy, had allowed her and Fawn to live in peace—for a while at least.
Tonight, she wanted to dance them out of her mind, drink them from her consciousness and deal with them tomorrow.
Not tonight.
Besides, she also needed to discuss a few things with Claire.
Did the other woman remember as well?
Was that the reason for the fear each time Liza had nearly given herself away?
“Liza?” She nearly flinched as he moved to her, his tone deep, rasping as the backs of his fingers grazed her cheek. “Where did you go, baby?”
Swiping her tongue over her lips nervously, she gave a quick shake of her head. “I’m right here, Stygian. I’m just hoping you’ll take me somewhere. I have yet to leave this damned room and I can’t handle it any longer.”
Thoughtful, with a gleam of disbelief and skepticism, he stared down at her before nodding slowly.
“Let’s see if we can get you out of here for a few hours then,” he said, sending a flare of anticipation racing through her.
“Thank you.” Relief raced through her.
“I’ll go arrange things with security so the others can go as well,” he told her as he moved away from her, taking the sense of warmth that wrapped around her whenever he was near.
Turning, she moved to the windows and gazed at the darkness surrounding the hotel.
Rubbing at her upper arms to dispel the chill racing up them, she eased back from the window, suddenly wishing Stygian were still there.
The windows were bullet and laser resistant, the room itself highly secured.
Yet Gideon Cross had managed to bug Jonas Wyatt’s room, which she was certain was even more secure.
There was something not quite right, though, something out of place, out of sync.
Tilting her head, she stared out into the darkness, wondering what was missing, or what was added.
Something wasn’t right—
As the thought raced through her mind, a blinding flare of light suddenly flashed through the room. The resulting explosion seemed to rock the entire hotel.
Liza went to the floor, rolling, instinct and her photographic memory of the location of each piece of furniture flashing through her mind as she scrambled behind the sofa.
Shards of glass scattered around her as though World War III had erupted in the Navajo Suites. Flashing a brilliant red and yellow, the emergency lights sent a kaleidoscope of color racing through the room as Liza came to a crouch and quickly peeked around the couch.
Three dark-clad, masked figures were moving through the room. Two to the bedroom, while one began tossing furniture aside, throwing it out of his way. The electronic black shield covering his face gave him an automaton look, while the scrolling red ribbon of the auto-detection technology glinted at the top of the shield.
Shit!
Flipping behind the furniture before his head turned her way, Liza drew in a hard breath. She had only seconds to find a place to hide, or to reach the door.
The inner security lock had engaged when Stygian went out. It would take precious time to slide it aside—time she didn’t have.
Hurriedly moving to the opposite side of the couch, Liza dived behind the heavy chair that had already been thrown aside within a heartbeat of the couch bouncing against it.
The opened door to the connecting suite was just ahead of her, two figures racing from the room.
“She’s not there,” one rasped.
“She’s here. We tracked her before the window went in. Find her, d
