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Lance was enraged. The next morning he paced his office, scowling, his body burning as his cock throbbed in his jeans and the bite at his shoulder burned in need. Son of a bitch. A fucking Breed. He became aware of what she was the moment those sharp little teeth of hers pierced his flesh. He had seen the mark on his cousin Megan's shoulder nearly a year before. Placed there by her mate, Braden Arness.
"I can't find anyone that meets your description in the database, Lance. " Braden growled in irritation.
"Now look, dammit, I know she's a Breed," Lance snapped. "She has to be in there. "
"Lance, I've been searching these damned files for an hour now. She's not in here. What the hell is this about?"
Lance drew in a hard breath.
"The bitc
h bit me last night, Braden," he finally snarled. "I picked her up at the bar and took her home. "
"You had sex with her, and she bit you?" Braden's voice was carefully bland. "What did you say her name was again?"
"Harmony. She didn't give me a last name. Russet hair, pale green eyes, about fiveseven. "
"Any tattoos or distinguishing marks?" Braden asked.
Lance frowned. He barely remembered a small tattoo.
"Her right shoulder, I can't be sure, but I think it was a scythe. " Silence filled the line as the air around him whispered in warning.
"Are you certain of that? A scythe. "
"A red scythe, no more than an inch and a half high. I saw it just before she jerked her shirt on. By the time she turned around with the fucking gun in her hand, I forgot about it. "
She had held a gun on him. A small, snub-nosed though powerful military-issue Beretta. And those babies packed a wallop, despite their size.
"Damn. That's bad. " Braden's voice was suddenly deeper; the animalistic growl of his Breed heritage only showed itself in times of anger or stress.
"The Breed part or the scythe part?" Lance asked. "You have to be a bit clearer here, Braden. My mind's not exactly working at its normal speed. "
And he knew why. He knew and it pissed him off. God help her if he got his hands on her again. The first thing he was going to do was spank that pretty ass for running. The second thing he would do was fuck her until she didn't have the strength to run again.
"According to my files, the Breed with that mark is one badass you don't want to mess with. We call her by her lab name, because she never chose another that we knew of. Her name is Death, Lance. She's wanted not just by the Bureau of Breed Affairs but by several government agencies as well, for questioning in the assassinations of suspected child abusers as well as suspected Council scientists. If Death mated you, cuz, then you're screwed. "
The woman in his arms had been no killer. "There has to be a mistake. "
"No mistake," Braden said in denial. "No other Breed would dare wear that mark. Death is a possessive bitch. She's a class A assassin with the added rating of knifemanship. Death doesn't feel, Lance. And how the hell you could have mated with her makes no sense. "
Because every instance of mating heat that had occurred in the Breed society had involved emotion. To their knowledge there hadn't been a mating that hadn't been a match of not just the physical, but the psychological and emotional as well. Lance knew that from the few explanations Megan had given him in regards to her relationship with Braden.
"Then there's a mistake," Lance grated out. "Is there a description on this 'Death'?"
"Oh yeah," Braden sighed. "The description of her hair was throwing me off. Her hair is the color of a true lion's mane rather than just a similarity. Eye color pale green. Height five-seven, age twenty-five. She escaped the labs at fifteen after killing every scientist in the facility. Including her own mother. "
The air began to wail at his ear.
"There's a notation here that an op went out a few weeks ago to a suspected sighting, but no update. "
"Get me her file. I want the complete dossier on her, and see what else you can find out. I'm taking the day off and going looking for her myself. "
"Whoa, hold up there, man," Braden protested furiously. "Didn't you hear what I just said? This woman is one of the most lethal killers in our ranks. She hunts Coyotes for fun, Lance. And she kills them. She'll take you out if she even thinks you're going to get close. "
"According to you, the mating heat goes both ways, right?" Lance reminded him.
"As far as I know. According to all the reports the Bureau has listed of mated pairs, it's always a two-way street. "
