Stygian's Honor (6 page)

Waiting wasn’t high on her list of things she enjoyed, Liza admitted as she was forced to wait for Jonas Wyatt.

And waiting nearly an hour before coming face-to-face with none other than the big bad director of Breed Affairs himself didn’t help.

Not that she hadn’t met him before.

She had.

Just never quite like this.

And definitely not with what appeared to be the Alphas of the Wolf and Coyote packs as well as Callan Lyons, leader of the Feline Prides and acknowledged spokesperson of the Breed communities, entering behind him along with more than a half dozen other Breeds.

The room suddenly seemed way too small; the air around her too thick and heavy with male testosterone and dominant power.

“Miss Johnson,” Jonas greeted her cordially as she rose from her seat and Jonas stepped in front of her. “We need your help.”

Liza’s jaw tightened furiously as she came to her feet. “You need more than my help and you’re sure as hell going to need a few good lawyers.”

She really wasn’t happy over this. And if Cullen and
Reever’s comments were any indication, then they were furious. The team of Coyote soldiers that had actually been following Liza had managed to completely disappear.

Reever had already threatened to have several of the men in the room neutered. Jonas was threatening to castrate them himself.

“We just saved your life,” Jonas stated, as though that were a boon she owed him.

She didn’t think so.

“Your people just endangered it,” she snapped. “Let me tell you now—” She was suddenly distracted by Jonas’s hand slicing quickly into the air as Diane Broen, Lawe Justice and Rule Breaker each made a quick, silencing move themselves.

They had been searching the room as she and Jonas squared off, and were now lifting what appeared to be small electronic devices from several points in the luxurious sitting room.

Listening devices.

The room had been bugged.

Jonas stared at the device Diane handed him, his expression slowly tightening into sharp, icy lines.

Someone had managed to bug his suite. They had invaded his mate and child’s safety and security.

The signal had piggybacked on their own wireless devices and betrayed them.

And Jonas had no idea how long it had been in his rooms.

Or if there were more, let alone how Gideon Cross had actually managed to get them in there.

Fucking Bengal bastard! He was like a ghost haunting every area of Jonas’s life now.

Turning to Lawe, he lifted his hand and gave a slow circle with his index finger, indicating a full-suite electronic blackout, white noise as well as jamming technology.

It would unfortunately block the transmission between Ms. Johnson and her protectors, but his family’s security outweighed any possible manipulation of the Bengal Breed.

Gideon Cross had just upped the ante.

Jonas turned then and stared back at Liza Johnson and in the scent of her fear, learned something more.

His sense of smell was rated off the charts. He was believed to be one of the strongest sensory Breeds to have been created.

If there was a stronger Breed, then they weren’t revealing it.

And what he scented in this woman’s very DNA had him smiling slowly.

The game was just beginning.

It wouldn’t be easy, and it would skirt damned close to breaking his own personal rules, but he had to do what had to be done.

Not just for the two young women and two Bengal Breeds affected by the serum that monster Brandenmore had created, but for Jonas’s daughter as well.

For that sweet bit of innocence his mate had given birth to and had given into his keeping as his own.

For Amber, he had to make this work.

Liza watched a smile cross the Breed’s lips and the way those liquid mercury eyes seemed to brighten with anticipation.

He looked like a predator that had finally found its prey.

A shiver of dread raced up her spine and clenched her stomach with impending panic.

“As I said, we need your help,” he repeated, the icy, merciless smile snapping at the panic rising inside her. “And in return, we’ll ensure you’re protected from the men determined to abduct you.”

If they’d left her alone to begin with, she might have known who the hell those men were.

She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared back at the room filled with Breeds. She didn’t miss the fact that Stygian had moved closer to her, his stance protective.

Evidently Jonas was noticing it as well if the slash of his eyes in Stygian’s direction was any indication.

Turning back to the arrogant director, determined to hide her interest in a Breed she wanted nothing to do with, Liza directed her attention to Jonas.

“From what I’ve seen, Director Wyatt, it’s all you can do
to protect yourselves,” she suggested coolly. “What would make me believe you could do anything to protect me?”

His lips quirked with a hint of amusement, though his gaze flashed dangerously.

“We’ve done quite well, I believe,” he drawled. “We didn’t lose any of our men and managed to capture all that weren’t killed of those attacking us as well as you. Those are rather good odds, if you ask me.”

Great. That meant there was no one left for Cullen and Reever to question.

“But they keep attacking the Breeds,” she pointed out. “And the odds aren’t always so great, Director. I do listen to the news fairly often.”

“If you listen to the news, then you should be aware of the fact that not only Breeds are at risk from the Genetics Council and their loyalists,” he told her. “They do target others on occasion.”

“Unfairly so,” she agreed. “But they wouldn’t have attacked me if it hadn’t been for her.”

She nodded to Diane Broen, the human enforcer who worked for the Bureau of Breed Affairs. “She was the one they came for, not me.”

She knew better. He knew better. But she was supposed to be unaware of the fact that she had been targeted? Keeping that impression would be preferable.

“And there is where you’re wrong.” He smirked back at her, and Liza found herself gritting her teeth in return. So much for hoping she could appear to remain in the dark. “Diane just happened to have been there to distract their attention for a moment, nothing more. It was you they were after.”

He seemed entirely too satisfied to relay that information.

Once again, Liza let her attention stray to Stygian as he stood several feet to her side. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, the black enforcer uniform and heavy boots, his long black hair tied back at his nape, he could have been a warrior from more than two centuries before.

There was something about his stance, the straight shoulders, the ready preparedness in his muscular body. He wasn’t a Breed who would be easy to catch unaware.

“They have no reason to be after me,” she retorted as she forced herself to face the director once again.

Jonas was known as a master manipulator. Even his own enforcers were known to curse him to the pits of hell for his machinations.

“You wouldn’t think so,” he agreed. “I have to admit I can see no reason why they would target you. But the fact is, they have.”

Narrowing her eyes, Liza kept her arms crossed over her breasts as she wished she had worn a light jacket. Something, anything she could have pushed her hands into, could have found a way to hide some part of herself.

“Then we’re in agreement that I’m not their target.” She shrugged as she fought the need to disappear. “Does that mean I can leave now?”

She was suddenly all too aware of the scantiness of her running pants and top. Her midriff was left bare, her legs growing cold in the air-conditioned chill of the room. As Stygian’s gaze flickered to the exposed flesh of her midriff, it suddenly heated, warming as though it were his hands touching her rather than just his gaze.

She did flush then.

Damn it.

Because her face and neck weren’t the only parts of her body flushing and heating.

Her nipples were hardening, her clit becoming sensitive, moisture gathering between her thighs.

Her response to him wasn’t just shocking, it was frightening.

And she wanted no part of it.

“I said I couldn’t see the reason why, not that you weren’t being targeted,” he pointed out as though speaking to a child and patronizing her for her stupidity.

“I’m certain I don’t know why they would target me either,” she assured the director. “What I do know is that I’m not in the mood for the third-degree here. You guys have done nothing but cause trouble since you arrived. First Isabelle was kidnapped and nearly turned over to those
deranged Coyotes Holden was trying to take her to, a friend is nearly murdered in front of her and now I’m being accosted during my morning run no more than weeks later. What’s next with the lot of you?”

With each accusation, Jonas’s expression turned stonier while Stygian eyed her with greater intensity.

“Your abduction could be next.”

Liza followed Jonas with her gaze as he moved to the long table against the wall.

“Let me show you something,” he suggested. Turning, he indicated that she should follow him.

Liza’s gaze shifted to Stygian before she turned and moved carefully to the table.

She had a feeling she didn’t want to see what the director was pulling from the files stacked there.

Stepping to his side, she stared down at the photos he was setting out on the table.

The eight-by-ten glossy photos were of a very ill child, her little head bare of hair, blue eyes filled with sorrow.

She was pale, obviously in pain, and stared into the camera with a sense of resignation.

Her heart beat faster, her throat felt tight with dread. She tried to tell herself, to convince herself it was because of a child’s pain seen so clearly in those frightened, worn blue eyes.

But that didn’t explain the flash of some long-forgotten sensation attacking her arm. The feel of phantom needles inserted into an arm so thin, already so bruised and abused, sent a shock wave of horror traveling through her so quickly that before she could react, it was gone.

What was that? It couldn’t be a memory, because Liza knew she hadn’t ever been so ill as a child.

The next photo was one of another young girl, though her illness wasn’t as apparent. Dark brown eyes and hair lay around her pale face. Her lips were cracked and dry, her gaze distant as though she were forcing herself to see beyond the camera.

She was living, but she wasn’t really with them. They were desperate to pull her back. What if she never came back? What if she went away inside herself and never returned to them? All the planning, all the deception and the lies would have been for nothing?

Liza felt her breath catch as she fought to hide the shock and fear that nearly overcame her. Clenching her fingers into fists and tucking them beneath the fold of her arms, she kept her gaze centered on the corner of the photos until the wave of disorientation receded.

But she couldn’t keep her eyes from them for long.

There were pictures of the two girls together; then, there were pictures of the hairless girl with two adults Liza assumed were her parents.

The tall, broad male had a haunted look in his gaze, while the mother’s face was filled with pain and love. They weren’t staring at the camera; rather they were standing next to the hospital bed where their child lay sleeping.

Sleeping?

Or dead?

There were other pictures.

The two girls with two Breeds. It was obvious because they were displaying their incisors in the pictures. In their eyes though, Liza could glimpse the hell all four were clearly enduring.

Compassion filled her, as well as a sense of sorrow.

“Who are they?” Looking up at the director, she had to refrain from rubbing at the chill that suddenly raced over her arms. “Will they be okay?”

Jonas gathered the photos together before replacing them in the file.

“They grew up,” he stated. “The one with her parents is Honor Roberts. The leukemia she had was diagnosed as a particularly fast-growing and fatal illness. There is no known cure or procedure for remission, even now.”

“The other girl was Fawn Corrigan. At two months of age she was near death, diagnosed with infant AIDS and given only weeks to live. As you saw in the photo, at age ten, she was still alive.”

“But still ill,” she stated.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Did you recognize any of them?”

“Why would I?” Her gaze jerked back to his with a hard frown. “The two girls were with two immature Breed males. There are no Breed males of that age in Window Rock that I’m aware of.”

Tightening her stomach, she refused to allow herself to think about them—or her reaction to the photos.

“Those pictures were taken more than a decade ago.” The obvious impatience in his voice was reflected in the darkening swirls of gray in his eyes.

“Then why would I know them?” She glanced around the room at the Breeds gathered there before turning her gaze back to the director. “Why don’t you just tell me what the hell is going on here, Director Wyatt? That would be a hell of a lot easier than the games you seem to so enjoy.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, he didn’t particularly care for the fact that she called him on his habit of deliberately manipulating anyone and everyone he came in contact with.

Megan Fields Arness stepped forward. “Liza, the point is that we’re searching for the two girls. Finding them is of the highest importance to the Breeds, to ensure the Genetics Council doesn’t acquire them for whatever research purposes they have in mind. There’s nothing nefarious in the least in the Breeds’ wish to find them.”

The knowledge that Megan would lie to her—probably was lying to her—had her fighting back the sting of tears.

She had known Megan most of her life.

Megan’s grandfather and Isabelle, Chelsea, and Claire’s were both part of the chiefs of the Six Tribes. Besides that, the Martinez family was a very close unit and socialized together often.

They were friends—or so she had thought. Friends weren’t supposed to lie to each other to this extent.