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“Myron is married. He has children,” Cassa interjected. “I thought that would be impossible if he had mated.”
Jonas shook his head. “We don’t know that for sure, Cassa. We’re less than twelve years into researching mating heat. Our doctors and scientists still don’t know what the hell they’re dealing with here.”
And neither did those who were mated or would be mated in the near future.
She sat back, watched and listened as they went over their plans. To watch Douglas, make certain he had no chance to get to Cassa, simply because they thought that would piss him off, make him mess up.
It was too clichéd. Douglas didn’t give a damn about her one way or the other. He was after something else here. There was something else, someone else, he was after rather than Cassa. She just had to figure out who it was and why.
She knew Douglas. He hadn’t loved her. She hadn’t even truly been a possession to him. She had been the means to an end, nothing more.
He wasn’t here for her. She just had to figure out what he was here for. Unless he knew who the killer was.
He had to know who the killer was; he wouldn’t be headed here otherwise. If he didn’t know who and what he was facing, then he would have stayed where he was safe. Douglas would be more concerned with eliminating the threat to his own life, and the lives of those who could help him now. Namely, the Deadly Dozen. She would be nothing but an afterthought, and then for amusement only.
He was alive though. All these years she had believed herself free of him, of the part he had played in her past. Only to learn he was still alive, and he was still determined to kill the Breeds.
As the meeting wound down, the information was stored and Jonas rose from his chair to stretch lazily. Cassa’s gaze drifted back to Cabal. He had watched her through the meeting, his gaze lingering on her for long moments before his attention would return to the information scrolling on the holoscreen.
She could see the heat building in him. She could feel it. Just as she felt it building in herself.
Anger. Fear. Emotion of any sort affected the hormones that ruled the mating heat. But Cassa realized that something more was driving both of them.
The earlier confrontation. Her insistence on meeting with Dog had broken through a barrier she hadn’t known existed between them. She didn’t even know what that barrier was; she still wasn’t certain.
But it was as though something had been freed within her, a part of her that she hadn’t known existed and that had nothing to do with the hormones he had infected her with.
This was pure defiance.
How dare he keep this information from her. How dare he, for all these years, ignore what he knew was between them while keeping these secrets. And then, to push her so effectively from an investigation that she was so much a part of?
Hell no. This wasn’t happening. It would never happen again.
Her head lifted as her gaze met his, eye to eye, defiance meeting pure male arrogance. He might be a Breed, but she was his mate, and those who had drafted Breed Law regarding mating hadn’t done so without an eye to the pure stubbornness that epitomized Breed m
ales.
She had her own rights. Rights she hadn’t enforced or threatened him with. This changed things. Never again would she be made to cash in on a valued favor because he wanted to play the protective, silent male.
If he wanted to continue playing with Jonas, then by God he would do so under a new set of rules.
“Gentlemen, be prepared,” Jonas finally sighed. “We’ll receive word several hours before Watts hits Glen Ferris. I want everyone in place and prepared.” He looked to Cassa. “We know where he’ll focus, so let’s keep our attention there.”
Watts wasn’t focused on her—not that they were willing to see that. Because Breeds focused so highly on their women and their mates, they sometimes forgot that humans weren’t nearly that loyal. Not even close.
She had faith in them though. Give Jonas a little time—if he hadn’t figured it out by now, then he would. Cabal no doubt already had his suspicions. She had watched his face through the meeting. He knew. Just as she knew. Or at least, she hoped he knew. If he didn’t, then he wasn’t as intuitive as she thought he was.
She rose silently from her seat, collected her pack from the floor and headed to the door, eager to return to her room. She had some research to do herself, some answers to find. Now that she had a bit more of the information that she needed, perhaps she could get her own line into this. There was even a slight chance that she could figure out at least one or two of the missing members of the Deadly Dozen.
She might even have an idea where Douglas would head. One thing was for sure: If she was on his list, then she was last on his list.
As she left the suite, she was aware of Cabal following her and the tension emanating from him. As though there were a wire connecting them, tuning them in to each other. The closer they came to the elevator, the tighter it became.
She moved into the cubicle, standing close to the rear as Cabal stepped in and punched the button for the lower floor. The doors slid shut. Cassa blinked.
The next thing she knew she was in his arms, plastered between his body and the wall of the elevator, as his lips closed on hers, pushing into the suddenly hungry depths of her mouth.
The taste of him. It was nectar. It was spicy and sweet, cinnamon and sugar. It was a fire in the middle of winter and seared her to her soul.
