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Jackal snorted. “That little paper pusher of Vanderale’s?”
Paper pusher, his ass. Ms. Rodriquez was looking for something; Jonas just hadn’t figure out what yet.
“That’s my suspicion.” And Jonas hoped his suspicion was right. His own investigation into Mercury’s lab years had brought him to the conclusion that the feral fever had been nothing more than rage.
At one time, Mercury had been very close to the animal that his genetics had been altered with. His sense of smell had been off the charts, his ability to run long distances had broken records. Sight, hearing, night vision, scent and taste—he had been exceptional.
Until he’d begun showing shows of feral displacement. Pacing his cage. Growling in irritation, refusing to perform his missions within their proper parameters. And the unknown hormone attached to the adrenaline that flooded his body at those times. Feral fever or displacement the scientists had called it. Jonas preferred to think of it as the call of the wild. All the signs Mercury had exhibited in the labs had been those of an animal going insane in the search for freedom.
But that didn’t explain what was going on now. Or why the hormone was showing itself once again. Unless, somehow Mercury was mating his little paper pusher as Jackal called her.
“Give Merc space, Jonas,” Jackal advised him as they stepped into the heli-jet. “If he’s acting weird, then he deserves it. That man is too damned calm the way it is.”
And Jonas would have agreed with him, until Ely’s report came through. Now he was starting to worry, and worry wasn’t something he liked. He preferred action, decisive forward motion. And in this case, he had a feeling that wasn’t going to help much.
The cabin was too quiet, and she had grown too used to Mercury’s presence. Even before he had been assigned to stay in the cabin with her, he had occasionally come in for a few moments. He had teased her just long enough to leave her wanting more before he left.
She had never been certain where he went, but he had always returned the next morning to escort her back to Sanctuary.
Now she felt a bit lost without him.
There was plenty of work to do. She still had the memory chips she had slipped out of Sanctuary this week, waiting on her to analyze them, to find the discrepancies she had been finding with alarming regularity.
Someone was slipping information from Sanctuary and selling it to a research lab determined to unlock the secret of the age depression that went along with mating heat. Forget figuring out why the mating heat occurred, or developing something to ease the symptoms of it. No, all these people cared about was reversing aging and creating fortunes off the desperation of millions.
It was a nightmare in the making.
And was she working on the chips that contained the information concerning who in Sanctuary could be selling those secrets. Of course she wasn’t. She was pacing her bedroom floor, rubbing her arms against the chill that seemed to seep into the cabin and wondering where Mercury had gone.
As she turned and paced ba
ck toward the bed, a scraping at the window had her turning quickly, and staring in shock as the window eased open and Mercury, all six feet four inches of incredible muscle, eased through the opening until he was standing in her bedroom. He closed the window, locked it and reclosed the thick curtains before turning back to her.
“How did you slip past the Breeds patrolling outside?” she asked him in surprise.
He snorted. “You don’t slip past Lawe and Rule. They know I’m here.”
Suddenly, the long, violet gown and robe she wore seemed too heavy, too warm. Where she had been cold moments before, she could feel herself heating.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she hissed as he stared across the room at her, his amber eyes darker, those little sparks of blue twinkling in them. His expression was somber, his gaze too quiet, and too filled with things she didn’t want to see, because they too closely resembled things she didn’t want to admit she felt herself.
“Never had a man slip into your room?” he asked her as he moved to the door, opened it and checked outside before turning back to her.
He turned the lock and kept his gaze locked on hers as he did so.
“Are you scared?” he asked curiously.
Ria rolled her eyes. “Not hardly. But my original question remains. Why the hell are you sneaking into my bedroom rather than using the door?”
“Maybe I’m trying to romance you?” He arched a brow, and it looked sexy as hell. Too bad she knew better than to believe him.
“Am I now harboring a runaway Breed?” She tilted her head and looked him up and down. “Dane buys me jewels for allowing myself to get involved with his little schemes. What do you have to offer, Mr. Warrant?”
Oh, that smile. Tinted just a bit with a shade of bitterness, but hungry, confident and very much in control.
“Jewels don’t keep you warm at night,” he told her quietly.
And that was only too true. They were hard and cold, and she found little solace in them other than the knowledge that they had the power to restrain Dane. Sometimes.
