by Lora Leigh
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, the
n 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."
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."
