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As badly as she wanted to peek over the border of shrubs, she didn’t dare. The scent of her body might be masked, but there would be no way in hell she would escape their exceptional eyesight.
“That’s a good description of what we’re facing,” Cabal answered. “It’s not over. The hunters are becoming the prey, and if the first five are any indication, we could be looking at some pretty high-profile individuals. The former mayor that disappeared last week was a well-known individual throughout the nation. We’re looking at a PR nightmare here.”
Cassa felt her mouth dry. The former mayor who had disappeared recently was David Banks, a proponent of Breed rights. He had argued for Breed Law, and had been known to host several charity parties a year in honor of the Breeds. Now he was also rumored to have been a member of a group of men that once hunted Breeds?
She could believe it. She had never liked Banks, but she knew his popularity. His smooth, charming smile and soft-spoken voice had fooled more than one journalist.
“PR is your brother’s area,” Jonas growled. “I’ll let Tanner worry about the sugar coating. I want the killer caught, Cabal. That’s your job.”
Jonas’s voice was commanding, harsh in its reminder. Yes, that was Cabal’s job, to do the things that the more public enforcers couldn’t do.
“It’s hard to do a job when there’s no evidence to go on, Jonas,” Cabal snapped, irritation clear in his voice. “There’s no DNA left on the scene, and no scent. We were notified within hours of the mayor’s disappearance. When we arrived, you could smell the scent of his terror, but the scent of his kidnapper was nowhere to be found.”
“Find something, Cabal,” he was ordered. “We’re working on borrowed time here. If you don’t find the killer before news of these murders, possibly committed by a Breed, leaks to the press, then we’re fucked.”
“It looks to me as though we’re fucked either way,” Cabal informed him, his voice cold. “Horace Engalls and Phillip Brandenmore are making certain of that.”
Brandenmore and Engalls, the owners of a pharmaceutical and drug research company, were under indictment for the drugging of the Breed doctor, Elyiana Morrey, and conspiracy to murder in several Breed deaths. They had been caught attempting to buy from her two assistants research conducted by Dr. Morrey, and were rumored to be researching a de-aging phenomenon the Breeds and their wives were supposedly experiencing.
There was no supposition to it. Cassa knew the truth of it. The Breeds were experiencing an aging decrease once they went into mating heat. The phenomenon was making Breed doctors crazy trying to figure
it out, and sending the Breed Ruling Cabinet into a frenzy each time the gossip tabloids came up with another angle to tell the story from.
So far, it wasn’t being taken seriously. But that couldn’t continue much longer. It had been eleven years since the Feline Breed alpha had announced the existence of the Breeds. Ten years since he or his wife had aged in any noticeable way.
Cassa was one of the few people who knew the truth, and she knew the consequences of ever writing that story or revealing her knowledge of it. The nondisclosure agreement she had signed, in return for special consideration in interviews and breaking Breed stories, had been frightening. She was certain she might have signed away her soul, her firstborn child and her cat’s blood. Or something close.
“Engalls and Brandenmore are being dealt with,” Jonas drawled, his tone one of pure ice. “I’m more concerned with a rogue Breed’s indiscriminate killings. Find him, Cabal, or we could all be up shit creek without a paddle.”
Cabal grunted at that. “I thought we already were.”
“No, at the moment, we have a paddle,” Jonas informed him sarcastically. “Now find that bastard before he kills again. I’ll be damned if I want to try to clean up another mess like the last one. I’m certain there are still pieces of him missing.”
Cassa forced herself to silence. She had the pictures of that killing, she was certain she did. That one, and three others. Pictures that had been sent via secured, untraceable emails that accused the Breeds of hiding a killer.
She hadn’t doubted they were capable of it. She just hadn’t imagined that even a Breed could do the damage that had been done in those pictures.
Trepidation built inside her as she felt the sweat that began to trickle down her temple at the thought of being caught now. She knew Breed Law, and she knew the price of eavesdropping on this conversation. Like David Banks, she could disappear and her fate never be known.
There was once a rumor that Jonas had a fondness for throwing his enemies into volcanoes. She really didn’t doubt it. It sounded like a very “Jonas” thing to do.
“You’re pissing in the wind, Jonas,” Cabal informed him. “We have nothing to go on here. No suspects, no clues. Until I have one or the other, then there’s not a lot I can do.”
“Get it.” Jonas’s voice became dangerous, clipped. “Quickly, Cabal.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Director, just as soon as you tell me who the hell I’m looking for.” Cabal’s voice lowered until it vibrated with suppressed menace. “Until then, there’s not a hell of a lot more I can do.”
“Banks was from Glen Ferris. Get back there, see what you can find out. We’re supposed to be searching for him. Investigate it from that angle.”
“Just what I need, you telling me how to do my fucking job,” Cabal grunted.
“I could be telling you how to find your mate,” Jonas drawled with a hint of amusement. “I’m certain she’s around here somewhere. What do you think?”
A dangerous growl filled the air as Cassa felt her heart sink in her chest. Cabal was mated? No, that couldn’t be true. Breeds did not ignore their mates, and they sure as hell didn’t fuck around with anything in a skirt as Cabal was known to do. The man had a virtual harem kneeling at his feet, begging for the privilege of pleasing him. It was enough to make her teeth clench in irritation.
Jonas had to be talking about a mate in general, not one in particular. Such as in a seek and ye shall find, why aren’t you looking for your mate type of thing. That had to be it.
“Don’t fuck with me, Jonas,” Cabal warned him. “I’m not in the mood.”
