Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 8

A second later Stygian was sliding into the front pa.s.senger seat and giving the dark Breed behind the wheel the order to drive.

There was something almost surreal about the ride.

Sitting in the leather comfort of the luxuri- ous vehicle, Liza closed her eyes and tried to tell herself this was going to work out.

Everything was going to be okay.

Her a.s.surances were quickly wiped away by another flash of an image.

A limo, the seats luxurious and soft, the couple sitting across from her grief-stricken.

The older woman held her hand: her in- credibly small, pale, childlike hand.

Liza jerked her eyes open, her head turn- ing to stare through the dark window as the vehicle made its way toward her home.

What was she seeing, and where were those images, those memories, coming from?

Why were they suddenly flas.h.i.+ng through her head?

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What was happening to her?

Gideon watched.

He was an excellent watcher.

It was one of the things he had been trained to do as a child, but it was also an inherent part of his genetics.

Concealed in the upper thickly needled branches of a towering fir tree, he watched the suite Jonas and his family resided in.

They'd found most of the bugs he'd had put in place. Getting them into the room to begin with had been a pure b.i.t.c.h.

There were two left.

One was concealed in the electronics of the video and television screen-thank goodness, he could still see and hear most of what went on-and one in the connecting living suite.

That one, he refused to engage just yet.

The babe was there. The babe and her 123/862.

mother, and during this phase of the serum's effect on her little body...his lips tightened.

He couldn't bear to hear her pain.

There were too many memories there.

Too many dark images of another child who stared up at him, tears in her eyes as she valiantly fought to be brave.

He didn't blink.

His eyes didn't fill with tears.

But his throat tightened with an emotion that came only when those dark memories intruded once again. Emotions he refused to let in again, regrets he refused to revisit.

"Her shadows have evaporated. Their loca- tion was deserted by the time our teams arrived."

Gideon wasn't certain of the face that went with the voice. He didn't dare risk activating the video portion of the bug at the moment.

"Then we have no idea who they are, or what she's a part of," Jonas growled.

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"Not yet," the Breed answered. "We're working on it."

"Let me know the minute you have news,"

Jonas ordered.

A second later, the sound of a door closing was heard then silence filled the room.

Gideon risked checking the vid-device strapped on his wrist then.

The picture came through: the image of Jonas standing at the gla.s.s sliding doors, his back to the vid-screen, hands propped arrogantly on his hips.

He was a worthy if challenging adversary.

There were days Gideon wondered...

Jonas turned, his gaze centering on the screen as his lips quirked.

"f.u.c.king Peeping Tom," he said, his tone icy. "Come out, Gideon, I dare you."

Deactivating the monitor, Gideon grimaced.

h.e.l.l, he hadn't expected that.

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Somehow, Jonas had known that bug was there.

Gideon couldn't trust any of the informa- tion he'd gained in the past few hours now.

Not that much had really come through.

Liza Johnson knew nothing, and the Alphas of the Breed communities were all in one location.

Not a f.u.c.king sliver of information was worth using now.

It was almost amusing.

He had been b.u.t.ting heads with Jonas Wy- att in one way or another for two years now.

They were pretty even actually, when it came to wins and losses against each other.

He thought Jonas might see it another way.

Gideon had information Jonas wanted, in- formation he thought he needed.

Gideon could tell him there was nothing anyone knew-even Honor and Fawn and Judd-that could help him.

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Brandenmore had injected the child, there was no doubt about that. The little girl Jonas had taken as his own had become an experiment and had never stepped into a lab.

"Come on, Gideon." The audio link was still activated. "I know you still have a link in here. Face me. Face me with what you have and I'll help you with what you need."

Gideon deactivated the link.

He didn't want to hear the dares, the chal- lenges or the child's whimpering cries.

Jonas Wyatt had nothing he wanted- Yet.

CHAPTER 4.

Maneuvering the cla.s.sic Harley through the crowded parking lot of the Desert Rose, Sty- gian let a grimace twist his lips at the thought of entering the building.

He was a solitary sort of Breed. He had rarely worked with more than a four-man team until joining the Bureau of Breed Affairs.

He didn't like crowds and he didn't like the press of dozens or more human bodies bear- ing down on him, as they seemed to do in nightclubs and bars.

But tonight, Liza was in there.

His mate.

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Son of a b.i.t.c.h, he hadn't expected to find his mate in this sunbaked land.

h.e.l.l, he hadn't expected to find his mate at all, actually.

Parking the Harley and engaging the anti- theft security, he stepped from the motor- cycle, all too aware of the gazes locked on him.

Customers had spilled from the bar, some to socialize, a few to make their way to their vehicles, while two couples in the shadows had been making out with heated l.u.s.t. h.e.l.l, if he had Liza stretched out in the back of a pickup, the last thing he'd have on his mind was some mangy Breed who had just pulled in.

Pus.h.i.+ng back the long strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead, he made his way to the entrance and stepped inside. Nar- rowing his gaze, he searched the interior un- til he found her.

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A growl rumbled in his throat at the sight of the four men she was sitting with.

Deputy Cullen Maverick, a former Special Forces demolitions expert; Steven Jacobs and his brother, a communications expert on the same team, Reever Jacobs. Next to them was a man even the Breeds hadn't managed to pull information up on yet. The one they had all agreed had to be the Bengal Judd, Klah Hunter.

He'd shown up nine years before in Win- dow Rock and survived doing odd jobs. He never stayed at one job long, and he had nev- er made many friends outside the Jacobs brothers and the deputy.

Claire and Chelsea Martinez each sat on one side of Liza, and all seven of the group were leaning in close and talking low.

Stygian had noticed, though, that Klah Hunter's gaze had locked on him the minute he stepped into the bar.

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Moving across the room, Stygian watched as they all straightened and Liza's head slowly turned toward him.

Long strands of what he knew had to be living silk, dark blond, highlighted and streaked, her hair flowed over her shoulder and fell across the thin navy blue silk materi-al covering her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She'd come to the bar straight from the of- fice. The slim white skirt and dark blue silk blouse looked as d.a.m.ned s.e.xy now as it had when he'd watched her leave the house that morning.

As he neared their table, the four men watched him warily.

Stygian grabbed a chair, flipped it around and angled it in beside Liza.

Pure dislike entered several of the men's gazes.

Straddling the chair, he leaned against the back and met each of their gazes firmly.

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"What are you doing here?" Liza hissed as the silence around the table became dis- tinctly uncomfortable.

"Even Breeds enjoy a cold beer every now and then." He let a grin touch his lips as the perfect arch of her brows lowered in a fierce frown.

"I bet they do." Chelsea's grin was filled with teasing enjoyment as she sat back and glanced between him and Liza. "According to Malachi, they enjoy messing with our heads even more."

Stygian had to chuckle. Chelsea Martinez wasn't one to keep her smart-a.s.s thoughts to herself, or to sugarcoat much.

"That's always an enjoyable exercise," he agreed with a quick grin as he caught Liza's frown turning to a glare in his periphery.

"Though, to be honest, I much prefer a more straightforward approach."

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"Oh, really?" Liza muttered. "And how do you manage that? I thought Breeds were al- lergic to honesty."