Lion's Heat (43 page)

She was already ready. He felt it. The way she held herself, the sudden smell of the rage solidifying inside her as he tensed and prepared to move.

He glanced to the window, saw the vague outline of a dark hand. Five fingers. Four. Three. Two . . . ONE.

"Down!" He took her to the floor as the window behind the bodyguard Svenson's head shattered and laser fire began to fill the room. It took only a breath to watch blood erupt from the younger man's chest and head, to see his eyes widen and smell the scent of death as it began to fill the room.

Jerking Rachel to the relative safety beneath a heavy coffee table, he went for Brandenmore. Svenson was laid out on the floor, blood staining his hair as Devon Marshal lay on his stomach, his shoulder covered in blood. Brandenmore crawled across the floor at a far quicker pace than Jonas would have expected from a man his age.

Springing ahead of the old man, Jonas caught him by his shoulder, his claws ripping into flesh far more resilient than it should have been, into muscle more powerful than he could have guessed.

But he was still human, and no match for the Breed genetics Jonas possessed.

Jerking him to his feet, Jonas flung Brandenmore to the wall hard enough to daze him before gripping a handful of hair and jerking him back again, placing the older man in front of him.

Alpha Team One and Ghost Team had ended the danger to Rachel's life in seconds. Merciless, quick and efficient. The chilly night air swirled through the room, the scent of blood and death mixed with that of wood smoke, terror and pain as he forced the old man to face the night's work.

"It's over," he yelled, forcing Brandenmore to stare at the results of the sudden Breed attack.

His bodyguards were dead. Blood spilled from their bodies as they lay on the floor, their gazes empty and staring into nothingness.

"It's not over."

Jonas jerked his head to the side to see Devon holding Rachel by her hair, his grip harsh, jerking her head back as the point of a laser pistol lay against her vulnerable head. The younger man looked dazed, furious. The scent of his blood was heavy in the room, as was the smell of his fury and fear.

Jonas froze. The Breeds rising slowly from the floor stared at the scene as though in emotionless interest, but he could smell their sudden intent, could feel them weighing possibilities and considering options.

Rachel was the director's mate. Without her, Jonas didn't know if he could function. His men didn't know if he could function. If she died, there would be no rage as great as what he would feel, forever. Until he killed himself or someone did him a favor and killed him.

"I want that little bastard." Devon pushed her toward the door, his eyes gleaming with hatred as he stared at Jonas. "Let him go. The little bitch is nothing but an embarrassment. There can be no heir to the Marshal fortune, who isn't a Marshal."

And no one considered Amber a Marshal.

There were few options.

"The mother has to live." Brandenmore's voice was soft, so soft. "She will breed a legacy to science."

His child.

Jonas's hands tightened in his hair.

"His gun is empty of power." Almost too quiet, even for his senses to pick up, Brandenmore whispered the words. "I'd never give him a weapon that worked."

Devon was digging the barrel into Rachel's head. The tiny light at the side of the weapon was red. It wasn't powered. Or was it a trick?

"I'll kill you if she dies. So very slowly," he warned the old man. The old man in a much younger man's body.

"Let me out of here," Devon ordered harshly as he jerked Rachel toward the door. "I'll fucking kill her."

Jonas turned his head and gave the Breed still standing in the shadows outside a slow nod. Ghost Team had remained hidden while Alpha Team One had rushed into the room.

Jag had a bead on the back of the bastard's head. He would take him out. It would be messy. Rachel would never forgive them for the mess.

Silence filled the night until a hollow
pop
vibrated through the room and a gush of blood and brain matter exploded from the side of Devon Marshal's head.

Rachel jerked as he fell. She was gripping his hand, trying to jerk his fingers from her hair as she kicked at him, screamed at him.

Tears ran down her face; rage tore through her voice.

"You bastard!" she screamed, managing to loosen her hair as Jonas caught her.

Her foot kicked out, landed in the dead man's gut. "You fucking monster. You bastard. She's a baby. She's a baby."

Jonas jerked her to his chest, his hand covering her head, his eyes burning as he stared at Brandenmore, now held easily by Lawe, his hands being restrained.

Jonas turned to the older man and let a slow, cold smile curl his lips. Brandenmore was his now. Amazing how things were beginning to work out. The greatest minds among the Genetics Council were now becoming Jonas's possessions: first Amburg, now Brandenmore.

"Take him to the labs," he ordered the Breed. "He needs to be tested himself."

Brandenmore's eyes widened in horror. "I helped you. But I helped you," he protested as though shocked.

"You helped yourself to your own demise," Jonas swore. "You've just disappeared, Brandenmore. Another casualty to this silent little war you and your friends have begun. And now, you're mine," he promised with a deadly growl. "You fucked up. That's my daughter. Adopted from love, not from duty. Claimed as a daughter, not as a brat. And you'll pay for even daring to consider harming a hair on her head."

He wanted to rip the son of a bitch apart. The last thing he wanted to do was use him to better the Breed community, but he had no choice. Only Brandenmore could explain whatever changes occurred in Amber.

He nodded to Lawe to drag the man out as he turned slowly to the room, his arms still holding his mate close as she sobbed against his chest. Tears of anger, not of fear, or even of relief. They were tears of anger, pain and horror.

"Clean up," he ordered as Leo and Dane stepped from another room, dragging a bodyguard, barely alive.

Then Jonas felt his eyes widen in surprise and utter disgust. Son of a bitch, he couldn't keep them out of his hair for anything anymore.

Leo was tall, proud, exhilarated. His golden eyes glowed with excitement as he held a laser weapon in one hand, and gripped the hair of one of Brandenmore's best bodyguards as he dragged him along in the other hand.

"Mother will know you were here," Dane warned him in amusement. "She'll kick your ass and pout on me for months."

"Wrong, she kicks your ass and pouts on me," Leo argued.

"I'm going to have her kick both your asses." Jonas snapped, finally at the end of his rope where the two were concerned. In the past months they were like leeches. He couldn't seem to shake them off his fucking back no matter how hard he tried.

Then, they turned to Jonas as though coming up with the same answer at once.

"It was all his fault," they said in unison as they nodded at Jonas. He had a very bad feeling he knew exactly what they were agreeing to.

"Excellent." Leo grinned and slapped Dane on the back. "It's good to have another son to blame shit on. The rest of you are getting damned irritable over it."

He dragged the guard through the room, slapped Jonas on the shoulder and continued into the night as Jonas stared at him in outrage. Suddenly, the cold, hard Leo was gone, and what Jonas smelled rolling from the other man couldn't be true. Acceptance? Why? Why now, and what the hell was the Leo up to this time?

He turned to Dane, though he really didn't expect answers at this point.

Dane sighed heavily. "Your mate," he nodded to Rachel, "evidently chewed his ass and gave him a new lease on life.

What is it about you mated bastards that get off on that?"

As though that was an explanation? At least at this point, it made a bit of sense. Rachel was rather good at making man or Breed feel about two inches tall whenever they deserved it.

Jonas blew out a hard breath. "They care," he finally said as Rachel sniffed, her tears easing, her rage lessening. "It means they care, Dane. Only a Breed raised in the labs could understand the power of that ass chewing."

Rachel would do it often.

She would love him often.

She would rage at him often.

She lifted her head, her eyes still wet, her lips trembling.

"I love you," she whispered. "So much."

His head lowered and, amid blood and death, touched hers as light as a feather and whispered, "I live for you."

Dane watched for only a second before turning away. A grimace tightened his features and something ached in his chest. And he wondered if he would ever experience for himself the power of that ass chewing?

EPILOGUE

It was snowing.

Hours after their return to Sanctuary, Jonas stared out at the snowy landscape through the barred windows of the interrogation center, which sat above an entrance to the underground labs. There were three inches of snow on the ground, and two feet predicted to head their way. Big, wet, fluffy flakes that piled on the ground, the trees, the roofs of the cabins, had turned Sanctuary into a snow-covered wonderland.

How had he never noticed the beauty, the pristine innocence in a snowfall before?

He had never taken the time to see the wonderland, the almost fairy-tale promise that nature lay upon the ground each time it snowed, just as he had never truly realized the beauty in a child's laugher, a mate's smile, or the word "family." He'd never realized what he was fighting for until he had faced losing it that first night Brandenmore had struck against Rachel.

"You don't want to keep me here, Wyatt." Brandenmore's voice was hoarse, choked with terror, as he spoke from his position across the room.

Elizabeth Vanderale, Ely and Amburg, all masked, their identities hidden, had extracted the vials of blood samples needed. Swabs had been taken of the inside of his mouth, as well as from other areas of his body. Urine samples had been forced from him, and an array of tests were taken as he screamed and fought each procedure.

The Leo and Dane stood in a shadowed corner, black masks covering their faces as the scientists completed their work. The air was heavy with Breed rage and human fear.

When the scientists left the room, Jonas turned to him slowly and nodded to Jag, who was masked as well.

Electrodes were connected to Brandenmore's head, above his heart and along the pulsing veins at his temples. The electrical impulses that would surge through them weren't lost on the other man.

"Jonas, please," he screamed. "This is wrong. You have to arrest me. I want to see my lawyer."

"There are no lawyers here," Jonas promised him, his voice steady, cold. "This is Sanctuary, Brandenmore. Here, my word is law. Here, I decide if you live or if you die."

"You can't," the older man cried desperately. "That's not right, Jonas. You're already against me. She's your mate, your child. You can't make this decision."

"You have been tried and deemed guilty of crimes against Breeds so heinous, so lacking in mercy, Phillip Brandenmore, that only death can come close to atoning for your crimes. It is by word, by Breed Law, that you're sentenced to death."

"No." Brandenmore wheezed, his eyes bulging with the knowledge that there would be no mercy to be found, no loop-hole, no way to escape the pain coming.

"Yes." Jonas crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the Breed behind Brandenmore. "Do you have any last words?" He lifted his hand as though to give the order to electrocute the bastard.

"If you kill me, you'll never know what I did to your daughter."

It was a good thing Brandenmore wasn't a Breed, since otherwise he would have scented the pure triumph that spilled from the Breeds in the room.

"Nothing is wrong with my daughter," Jonas assured him. "She's been tested completely. Games are over. It's time to die."

"Delayed reaction." Brandenmore's voice was hoarse, desperate. "I know what I'm doing. I knew you'd run every test in the world on her; I hid it. The only way to know how to save her later is if I tell you. If I live."

"You're lying . . ."

"You can smell a lie." Tears poured from Brandenmore's eyes. "You know I'm not lying, Jonas. You know I'm not. And I promise you, without me, she will die. I've ensured it. I made certain I had that ace against you."

He wasn't lying.

"What guarantee do I have you'll tell me anything?" Jonas sneered. "You'll play games, just as you always do."

"I'll be here. Keep me. Just let me live," he cried out.

"Live long enough to see if you're getting younger? Live long enough to see if your aging serum works?" His body was younger than it should be, and Jonas knew his face wasn't nearly as lined as he last remembered it.

"Everything," Brandenmore swore. "I'll tell you everything."

"Yes, you will," Jonas crooned. "Or you'll suffer. Far worse than you would have suffered tonight. Far worse than any Breed ever suffered under you, Brandenmore. I promise you that. You'll cooperate fully, or suffering won't come close to the hell you'll glimpse."

Nodding to Lawe and Rule, Jonas turned and left the room, followed by Leo and Dane. Walking up the short hall to the observation room where Callan and the other members of the Pride family, along with Ely and Elizabeth, waited. Rachel was with Amber at the cabin, the one place Jonas wanted to be more than anyplace on earth.

"Son of a bitch," Callan cursed as the door closed behind them. "What did he do to that baby?"

Jonas rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, the ache there intensifying as he fought against himself. He wanted to go to Brandenmore and rip his heart from his chest.

"Ely, place him on the truth serum you've been working on," Jonas ordered her.

The serum was designed for human as well as Breed biology. It took weeks, sometimes months, to fully integrate into the system and let it begin working. It would work though, and the truth would come from Brandenmore's lips whether he wanted to tell it or not.

"It may need to be refined," Elizabeth stated. "If what we suspect is true, and he's found a serum to reduce aging, then it could change how the serum works with his particular biology."