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"Then she's likely in no better shape than I am," Lance pointed out. Braden sighed. "If the mating went both ways, she's likely in worse shape," he growled.
"If, Lance. That's a hell of a supposition though. From what I'm seeing on the database here, this woman has no soul. You could just be swimming in hell by yourself. "
"Not hardly. " Lance raked his fingers through his hair, grimacing at the memory of her face, her eyes, before she left. "It has her too, Braden. I'd bet my life on it. "
"Which is exactly what you are betting. " Braden breathed out roughly. "Give me an hour. Wait there on me and I'll go out with you. You'll need backup on this one, Lance, and I don't want Megan anywhere near her. She still hasn't recovered from the search we did for her. "
"What search?" Lance clenched his teeth at that information.
"After leaving Sanctuary last year, our first mission was to locate Death. We thought we were getting close, then she just disappeared. "
"Where is Megan?" She would tell him. She wouldn't hide information she knew he would need.
"Megan flew back to Sanctuary this morning to pick up one of the new girls we're training here at the ranch. She won't be back till morning. "
Now, wasn't that just perfect timing?
Lance stared out into the park, watching as the breeze swayed in the trees, the low psychic moan he heard whispering around him, a warning and plea.
"I'm heading out in an hour," he finally said and sighed roughly. "Get over here if you're going with me. I don't have all day. "
Because if he didn't get Harmony beneath him again, he was going to explode with the lust ripping through him.
"I'm getting everything together now. I'll see you in an hour. " The line disconnected as Lance jerked the phone link from his ear and tossed it to his desk.
Just what the fuck he needed, he scowled. H. R. Alonzo, one of the most virulent opponents of the Breeds, was already protesting city hall over the Breeds training at Megan's ranch, and members of the Blood Purity Society were streaming in. Journalists were camped out at the hotels, and the situation was rapidly escalating from a headache to a problem.
He sure as hell didn't need this added complication. And the moment he got his hands on Harmony again, he intended to make his displeasure known. In a variety ways. All of them guaranteed to make her come.
______
Harmony was barely ready when Jonas and the Breed lawyer arrived at her hotel room late that morning. She hadn't slept, and makeup wasn't covering the results of that well. And she was in pain. Physical, aching pain from the arousal building within her. Since when did a lack of screwing actually hurt?
Dressed in the soft black cotton uniform of a Breed Enforcer, she adjusted her utility belt at her hips and made certain her gun was comfortably holstered. Her knife was strapped to her opposite thigh, and tucked into her right ankle boot was a secondary dagger. The clothes were driving her crazy though.
The rasp of the material against her flesh was an irritation she wondered if she would survive. And she was hot. She felt as though she were burning alive from the inside out. Her womb sizzled with need; her pussy was so wet she had given up attempting to stem the slick juices that kept her prepared for penetration, and just thanked God that it wasn't seeping through her clothing.
When she opened the door to Jonas, she avoided his eyes and stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind her. At his side, J. R. "Jess" Warden, the Bureau's attorney, watched her with a glimmer of surprise in her eyes.
"Let's get it the hell over with," she snapped as she started down the hall. "Have you informed your sheriff yet of who he's being saddled with?"
"Did you sleep well last night, Harmony?" His voice was taunting as he finally began walking to her, his nostrils flaring as her eyes narrowed on him.
The bastard. He knew. Whatever was wrong with her he could smell it.
"I slept fine, Jonas," she purred menacingly as she glanced at Jess, then back to him.
"And you?"
His lips quirked, though the smug confidence was held firmly in place.
"I slept quite well. " He moved slowly ahead of her. "You seem agitated this morning. Is something wrong?"
She was tempted to snarl, but restrained the urge. "Just your normal Breed psychosis," she retorted disdainfully, repeating the psychologist's profile Jonas had ordered before she left for Broken Butte.
As though her fondness for shedding blood had anything to do with her genetics. The lives she had taken after escape never weighed on her conscience. The monsters she had taken out were a disease. The world was better off with them dead. No, it was the lives she had taken before her escape that haunted her nightmares. It was those that left her gasping for breath, a plea on her lips as she fought to escape the horrors that visited her. Harmony wasn't still alive because she loved life. Nor was she still here for vengeance. She lived because she knew hell awaited her after death. Entering the elevator behind Jonas, Harmony turned to face the doors, ignoring the looks her brother cast her. Jonas Wyatt, they called him. She had called him Alpha One. The leader of the small contingent of Lion Breeds at the French Labs wherein they had been created.
Even though he had been younger than several of the other Breeds there, his strength and natural dominance had assured his steady rise within the ranks. He had been created as a breeder for a few specially created females, a last attempt to see if they could create the soldier they were searching for through other means. Instead, Jonas had grown to excel in areas the head scientist, Madame LaRue, had never expected. Deceptive, powerful, completely logical and coldhearted, Jonas had taken control of the other males from the time he reached his maturity. He manipulated them, maneuvered them and always managed to get the best out of them.
