Lawe's Justice (16 page)

“Rachel?” He stopped in front of them as Jonas watched his mate warily, suddenly certain she was prepared now to take his advice and to speak with Callan concerning their daughter.

Rachel lifted her chin and stared directly back at him. “I would prefer you speak to your son before I do.” She kept her tone incredibly soft. So soft, that perhaps the others couldn’t hear her after all. “The next time he frightens my child and shows the others his refusal to accept her by growling and snapping at her, I will take the matter up with his mother. At his age, he may prefer that any discussion of the problem come from you first.”

Callan’s brows lowered. “How long has this been going on?” he asked, careful to keep his tone below the anger level.

“As long as my daughter has been in Sanctuary,” she informed him. “His refusal to accept her is affecting the other children, I believe.” She quickly blinked her tears back. “This is the reason I no longer come to the main house when invited and no longer join activities with the other wives. I can’t leave my daughter alone with them, Callan. Especially if David’s in the house.”

Callan was eerily silent. A muscle ticked at the side of his jaw, and for a moment, Jonas considered pulling his mate back from his alpha. Until Callan sliced a look of disapproval at him, as though sensing Jonas’s thoughts.

“Forgive me for not seeing a problem existed, Rachel,” Callan said softly. “And I do appreciate you bringing this to me, though Merinus will be contacting you soon, I’m certain. We’ll discuss the matter with David before the three of us meet with you and your mate, if that’s acceptable?”

Jonas felt Rachel’s hand brush his. Twining his fingers with her delicate ones, he gave her the support she suddenly seemed to need as she realized the alpha of the Prides was perhaps much more understanding than she had believed.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m certain we can be available whenever you need us.”

Callan glanced at Jonas once more. “Your mate is too good for you,” he stated with an amused twitch to his lips. “And far more intuitive. You should have come to me sooner, Jonas.”

“Don’t blame him.” Rachel shook her head. “He’s stayed quiet at my request, Callan. I wanted to wait. I didn’t want to cause strain at a time when I know other matters are far more important. But, Diane isn’t near so patient I’m afraid. She made me do it.”

Amusement at the almost childish proclamation drew a chuckle from Callan.

“I’ll thank her personally when next I see her,” he promised. “And thank you again.”

Rather than kissing her cheek, shaking her hand, or any other form of touching that could have caused her discomfort, Callan instead lowered his head to hers and rubbed against it briefly.

The acceptance, respect and affection inherent in the gesture wasn’t missed by Jonas or any other occupant in the room. From that day on, Rachel would always be considered a member of Callan’s personal Pride, and his inner circle of family.

“Gentlemen.” She nodded to the others gracefully as Callan stepped back. “I’ll let you return to your meeting now. And if I were all of you, I would prepare for the fallout when they return.”

She didn’t explain the fallout, but she didn’t need to. If they returned with the former Brandenmore victims, then it would be self-explanatory.

Without another word she walked gracefully from the room, nodding to the Breed guard who opened the doors and then closed them behind her.

Jonas turned back to the alphas who had deliberately found something else to watch.

All but Leo, the man biology named his father. Amber eyes watched him thoughtfully, his lips quirked with a hint of knowing amusement.

He’d watched each moment of the exchange and, Jonas suspected, heard far more than either he, Rachel or Callan wished. But his gaze had softened as his expression reflected a respect Jonas rarely saw in the other Breeds’ gaze.

It was then that Leo nodded back at him before stating, in a tone that reflected surprising fondness, “I think she scares me.”

Jonas sighed in resignation though his chest seemed to weaken with his love for her. “Yeah,” he drawled. “I think that makes two of us.”

•CHAPTER 8•

THREE DAYS LATER

ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO

Gideon watched the window of the hotel room carefully through the scope of the rifle. The gold jewelry that Scott had been kind enough to keep in the safe had purchased the sniper rifle and highly sensitive scope from the black market contact he’d made years before, during one of his brief escapes from Brandenmore’s labs.

It was an old-fashioned weapon, one powered by the ammunition loaded into it, rather than the kind that used a laser box for power before each shot.

The soft sizzle of the box powering up the laser rifles were easily detectable to most Breeds if they were within a certain distance. But even easier for them to discern were the two tiny pin lights at the side of the box. Those pin lights could be seen from miles away by a Breed’s sensitive eyes.

This weapon, though, with its dull steel and the shaded glass of the scope, was all but undetectable to Breeds or humans.

Until it was fired.

This weapon, unlike the laser-powered variety, was loud enough to alert even the densest of the human population that violence was being committed.

It couldn’t be powered back to wound rather than kill or to burn rather than pierce. It couldn’t be deflected by the reflector glass or comparable material. There were few things that could stand between a man and a bullet.

Or a woman and a bullet.

At the moment, the woman in question was sitting comfortably in the chair she had moved to the side of the bed, directly in front of the window. The curtains were open and gave him a clear line of fire as she propped slender, jean-clad legs on the low table in front of her. Scuffed boots looked worn and comfortable, as did the faded jeans and the sleeveless, snug camisole she wore.

And she was staring straight back at him, her gaze meeting his in the scope of the rifle, daring him to fire.

Gideon had to smile.

He was almost becoming fond of this woman after the past three months.

She had a backbone, a daring no other adversary he’d known possessed. She was bold, confrontational, and mysterious. And she was damned intelligent.

Intelligent enough to know she was being followed and cunning enough that she had almost lost him more than once. Gideon had never come so close to losing prey as he had this woman since he’d begun following her.

She was a damned fine adversary, and he had no doubt she would make some worthy man a damned fine lover.

If she survived the little game they were playing at the moment.

He almost envied the man that would share her bed. No doubt it would be the Breed whose scent he’d detected on her clothes when he slipped into her bedroom earlier.

That Breed would have a woman most men could only dream of having. A woman that would be his partner. She was one who would go into battle with him, soothe his soul, mend his wounds, and drive him crazy in bed once the danger was over.

She couldn’t cook worth a damn, he’d heard one of her men say, but she commanded four powerful, territorial, less-than-courteous bastards who lived for war. Three of them followed her willingly, loyally.

The one who wasn’t completely loyal still lived because Gideon had only managed to identify him in the past twenty-four hours. If he were still traveling with her, then Gideon would have already killed him. This woman deserved more than the traitor who had sold her to her uncle’s enemies, she deserved more than the supposedly careless accidents used as attempts to get rid of her. Someone wanted her out of the game. They wanted to keep her from aiding her sister’s mate in protecting her sister and her sister’s child. According to the rumors swirling, now that she was so firmly aligned with the Breeds, someone wanted to ensure that if Colt Broen ever resurfaced there would be no one he could reach out to for assistance.

Someone was very frightened of the combination Diane Broen and her uncle represented. So frightened that once they realized she either didn’t know where he or the Leo’s home base was located, or was strong enough to keep her secrets, decided they were better off with her dead.

Alive, she represented a threat. A threat someone wasn’t willing to take.

Gideon doubted she realized how often three of those men stood between her and laser fire. If any of them were there now, he had no doubt they would be standing between her and his rifle. As her uncle and her ex-lover had tried to stand between her and the enemies that followed. And they had paid for their efforts in blood.

She was alone now. She had left her men behind, just as he had suggested she do in the letter he had left for her in Argentina. At the time, Gideon hadn’t yet uncovered the identity of the traitor on her team.

Now, he knew. He knew who had been the cause of her lover’s death, who had betrayed her uncle, and who had betrayed her.

For what? For a secret her parents had taken to the grave with them. The secret of the location of the Lion’s Den, the home of the first Leo.

She had sent them all home, three of them wounded by Gideon’s bullets. At the time, there had been only one Gideon was certain she could trust. It was only in the past twenty-four hours that the traitor had shown his hand and Gideon had identified him. That one was a danger to her. The bullets Gideon had used to take the three he suspected out of the game had been a warning to each that they had struck, and it was one the bastard had best heed. Neither man nor Breed could serve two masters, and that one was making the possibly fatal mistake of attempting to do so.

Still, she intrigued him.

She’d surprised him with the answer she’d left him in reply to his warning in Argentina.

Come out and prove my enemy is near. Stalking me is only pissing me off. I much prefer to talk rather than continue looking over my shoulder. If what I suspect is true, we’re working toward the same goal. Combining our efforts would be far more effective.

And now, she was giving him the perfect opportunity to discuss whatever he pleased with her. She had given him similar opportunities after running from the Breed who was determined to claim her.

Too bad he wanted only to use her, just as the traitor within her group did. He had no intention of identifying himself to her. He would only follow her to the prize for which she searched, and he would ensure he possessed it before she could take possession of it.

None of that changed the fact that Diane Broen confused the hell out of him though.

She was an enigma to Gideon, but she wasn’t a fascination. It wasn’t this woman who hardened his dick when he thought of her. The Breed whose dick she did harden would be here soon, though.

Gideon knew he was only perhaps hours ahead of the Breed following her. And that Breed was pissed. Lawe Justice had roared his rage the second he’d left the Bureau of Breed Affairs and stomped to the black SUV awaiting him outside the Bureau.

Gideon had watched him from the shadows across the street, and his gaze narrowed, wondering if he should chance a grin as the Breed stopped and stared toward the area where Gideon had hidden himself.

As though Commander Justice knew he was watched. Knew, and knew the direction from which it came. Like the woman, he would make a fine adversary, but a much more dangerous one if Gideon dared to attempt to harm her.

Unfortunately, they just may become enemies if she threatened to step between him and his quarry, rather than leading him to her. Gideon couldn’t allow that. And he had a feeling the Breed wouldn’t be able to keep her from doing it.

It was regrettable that Gideon needed her to draw Judd, Fawn, and Honor from their chosen identities.

Unfortunately for the Enforcer, though, he’d been delayed in his quest for a while. A flat on the SUV before he cleared the block. That was a stroke of genius and luck, Gideon thought. The nail that had pierced the tire had been put in place the moment the call came down to the garage for the SUV.

Gideon had taken the call, prepared the vehicle, then slipped out to prepare the area for the small projectile.

He’d found it incredibly amusing that he’d been able to slip into the garage of the Bureau so easily. He’d not been able to get any farther, into the bureau’s offices, nor had he been able to sneak a weapon inside. The sensors were too sensitive and impervious to sabotage.

But he had gotten close enough to determine the vehicle Lawe Justice had called down for. Close enough that the garage attendant had tossed him the keys, believing him to be a fill-in for the Breed who’d called in ill.

Duplicating the security badge had been a bitch. It had taken more than twelve hours straight to prepare one that would fool the sensors as well as the guards and the garage attendant.

Luck.

Luck had been on his side for a minute.

The young woman centered in the scope arched her brow curiously as though questioning his inattention to her. His delay in pulling the trigger.

Daring him.

When she dared her mate in the same way, she would learn the consequences of such impulsive foolishness, he thought with an edge of regret. A shame, really, that she had already been marked by the Breed’s scent.

If times were different, if he were the Breed he had been at nineteen, or hell, even twenty-seven when he had been recaptured by the soldiers from the Brandenmore labs. Even then, he’d had hope; he’d remembered what it was like to laugh, to lust, to dream of freedom.

If he were still that Breed, then he would see if a mate could be charmed from her mate.

Once, he could have accomplished that goal, he thought. Or he would have at least had a chance. He would have given it a hell of a try, and had a considerable amount of fun in the attempt.

The woman in the view yawned as though bored and tired of waiting. She gave a little shake of her head and a chiding smile, as though she were berating him for merely watching her rather than confronting her.

What made her believe he would ever confront her?

What made her imagine he would pull the trigger?

He caressed it. His finger stroking over it as he would a lovers flesh as her lips quirked just a bit at the corner as though in a grin.

“Live by the sword and you’ll die by the sword, my uncle always said,” she had commented with a laugh as she had walked with her men days before from the airport in D.C. The Swede who walked with her had shaken his head at her response to his advice that she should proceed with care once they met with Director Wyatt.

She hadn’t heeded his advice. Instead, she had sworn to him that she would find the three they had been sent to collect and she would regret her actions later. This job, she had claimed, was too important. Her niece was too important for her to fail.

She would find all of them once she found Ms. Roberts. They would be with her, Gideon knew, and this woman would attempt to take them back to the Breeds to perform more tests. More brutal treatments.

A knife slicing through flesh just to see what hurt the most.

Gideon knew what they would see, though. He wouldn’t allow it. He hated the woman he was after more than he hated any scientists he had encountered. But even for her crimes, admittedly, a crime a child had committed. As terrible as it had been though, he wouldn’t allow that brutality to happen to her.

Ms. Broen was moving into the area where his prey was suspected to be located. Moving in to take from him the vengeance he’d lived and breathed for far too many years.

He couldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t allow it.

He’d waited too long, fought for too long. And he wouldn’t be cheated of it now that the end was so near.

His sanity depended on keeping the vow he had made to himself so long ago.

He knew the general area where they were, and he’d given this woman the location. She would get there before he did, but, he would be close, and he would be watching. And once she found the prey, he would be there to steal it from her. If he remembered Judd, and he did, then he knew that the girls would be very well hidden. Very well protected.

Perhaps even sharing his bed.

He had to force back a roar of rage as he focused on the woman once again. Focused on what he knew rather than what he suspected.

He knew once Commander Justice arrived, Justice would be distracted by the past that would haunt him there in the form of the family his birth mother had been taken from.

The same family that had aided Judd and Fawn after Gideon had disappeared into the darkness on the night of their escape.

Terran Martinez had arrived, just as Judd had said he would. An arrangement Scott Connelly appeared to have been a part of. Because Fawn was his daughter.

His teeth clenched as a growl escaped before he could bite it back. He wouldn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept it.

He frowned and glared through the scope as the woman arched her brow imperiously.

Oh yes, she knew he was there. Watching. Waiting. She wasn’t daring him to pull the trigger, she was daring him to take what they were both after.

“Good night.” Did she speak the words or simply allow her lips to form the shape of them?