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She gripped the handle and breathed in deeply, the fear building inside her.
She knew her own death was coming. Not how it would happen, or where, but she knew there was no avoiding it. If it happened here, then her father wouldn’t be nearby. Her mother wouldn’t see it. They would be safer.
She had known she would die here. She had dreamed it. The visions that followed her, the ghostly forms that had drifted away from her over the past months, had warned her of it. They had told her that this was her destiny, that only here, and only with her blood, would the future become what it should be.
She didn’t want to die. She was only eighteen; there was so much that she wanted to see, wanted to experience. She wanted to dance and laugh. She wanted to know the truth of the shadowed vision of a man she saw in her dreams. Hear his laughter in life rather than just in sleep.
She wanted to watch her baby brother grow, and she wanted to be a woman, rather than the woman-child she knew she was.
But here, she had been warned. Here, her blood would be spilled by the one that held the wavering form of a child bound in the past. He would set into motion the future for the Breeds, for Dawn, and lay yet another piece of the puzzle that would eventually form a strong, able Breed community.
She would die by that man’s hand. And far better that she die alon
e, with none but her killer to see her fear.
She turned the door handle and slowly opened the door.
The sun was rising, casting a million shades of muted colors across the sky. Everything lay in shadow, and the shadows welcomed her as she moved onto the balcony. A clear target. And she knew someone had taken sight. She could feel it. Right there, the center of her forehead.
She stared out into the thick covering of trees and ached. She ached for so many things, so many thoughts and dreams and a life she would never have. Because she was unique, her father said. The truth was, because she was a freak.
And whoever watched her knew. He knew what she was, and he knew she couldn’t be allowed to live, didn’t he? They wouldn’t want to take her in; in the Council’s hands she would be a lever against the Breeds, a shift in the balance of power. And at present, there were so few who wanted anything to shift. War was always profitable. Even a silent war such as was being waged on the Breeds.
No, whoever was out there didn’t want to take her in. But his sights were on her, gun sights, steady. Clear. She stared into them, and with a mocking smile, mouthed the words, I dare you!
From his nest, he leveled the sights on the perfect face, right between those beautiful blue eyes, and imagined caressing her.
She was dressed in an evening gown, black, and it flowed around her like the night.
He read her lips and his own quirked into a smile. His finger didn’t move for the trigger. Instead his eyes stayed on her, stroked over pale, luminescent flesh, and he drew in the scent of innocence. Pure innocence tinged with fear.
I dare you, she had mouthed.
He smiled at the challenge. One day, she just might dare him too far, but he doubted it would be a bullet he’d penetrate her with.
CHAPTER 22
The next afternoon, Dawn sat at the long table that held the meetings of the board of directors of Lawrence Industries and watched as each of them signed the agreements Seth had laid out for them.
With the agreement to finance Sanctuary and Haven were agreements Lawrence Industries made to individual companies. A promise to restructure here, to strengthen there. Each board member was also the vice president of one of the sections that came together beneath the control and guidance of Lawrence Industries. Former owners or CEOs who had lost control because of bad management, buyouts or other varied reasons.
Because they had backed Seth, Seth in turn would reach out and support them more fully as well. Concessions they had been bargaining for were given, some in part, some completely, until all but one had been satisfied.
All but Valere.
“You’re going to regret this, Seth,” he bit out as he glared at them from the end of the table. “Lawrence and Vanderale Industries will pay for backing creatures such as that.” His gaze flicked to Dawn.
Dane leaned back in his chair, lit the thin cigar he invariably kept close, smiled and lifted his hand as he beckoned to Valere. “Do your worst, chap,” he dared him. “Better jokers than you have tried.”
It was regrettable that Valere had fought the plan to ensure the Breed society and the funding of Sanctuary for the next five years. The five-year forecast had been drawn out to allow the Breeds the time needed to complete the training that would allow them to move into the private security and law enforcement arenas with far fewer problems.
At present, their social skills frankly sucked when it came to political maneuverings in a job setting or working with others, except in a clearly laid-out team. Move a Breed into an investigative team in any major city at the moment, and there would be more bloodshed within the ranks than there was on the streets.
Five years would allow them time to complete the honing of that training, as well as the programs already being put in place to make use of the Breeds’ exceptional genetics and their training in other areas.
When the five years ended, the Breeds should be in a position that funding would no longer be necessary, and the profits from the agreements made with both Sanctuary and Haven, the Wolf Breed compound in Colorado, would begin trickling in. Slowly for the first few years, but within another five, those who’d initially signed onto the deal would be very rich indeed. The board members of both Lawrence Industries and Vanderale would be rich many times over from the profits gained from the Breed corporation.
Capitalism was alive and free, and it thrived. The Breeds were poised to become a very profitable, very wealthy industry in and of itself, because of Callan Lyons and the Breed Cabinet’s foresight.
