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Jonas chuckled. It wasn’t a comfortable or amused sound. It was, frankly, frightening.

“I’m not the one you have to worry about fucking with you, my friend,” he drawled. “I do believe though that our intrepid little reporter, Ms. Hawkins, could give you lessons in it.”

Cassa felt her lips part in shock. There was a hint of amusement in Jonas’s voice now, but none in Cabal’s rumbled snarl. The sound was sexy as hell even as it sent chills racing up Cassa’s spine—and a flood of warmth between her thighs.

Jonas knew exactly how Cabal felt about her; he had been there the morning Cabal had killed her husband and nearly killed her. She could still feel Cabal’s hands around her throat, see the fury and the need for blood in his eyes.

“Drop it, Jonas,” Cabal warned him.

Yes, Jonas, please drop it, Cassa moaned silently. She was becoming aroused by his voice, despite her best efforts not to do so. She was worried that whatever that pill did, it would be little defense against the scent of her need. And she was definitely needy. In the eleven years since her husband’s death, she had never been so turned on as she was when she was around Cabal St. Laurents.

“Fine, consider it dropped.” She heard the shrug in Jonas’s voice. “The heli-jet will be ready to fly you to Glen Ferris in the morning. Investigate Banks’s disappearance further. We might get lucky and you’ll find a suspect while you’re there.”

“Keep hoping,” Cabal grunted. “Trust me, if they’re hiding a feral Breed in their midst, they’re not going to turn him over simply because I ask nicely.”

The residents of Glen Ferris would be more likely to shelter and protect a feral Breed, no matter the risk to themselves. Hell, they’d been doing it for years; there was no reason to believe they wouldn’t do it now.

“You know how to ask nicely?” There was a wealth of sarcasm in Jonas’s voice.

“Go to hell.” There was a wealth of arrogance in Cabal’s.

Cassa wanted to laugh at the confrontation, even as she filed away the surprising information that had come her way. Everyone suspected that Banks was dead at this point. It had been a week since his disappearance, and there were no leads on what had happened to him. The river had been dragged, search efforts were still ongoing, but there wasn’t a clue to his whereabouts.

David Banks had gone for his evening walk one night in the little town of Glen Ferris, West Virginia. He hadn’t been seen again. His body hadn’t been found. There was no trace, no clue where he might have gone or what might have happened to him. Until now.

“I’ll return to hell, you check on our nosy reporter.” Jonas’s voice echoed with command once again as Cassa gave a small start of fear. “She was too jumpy at the reception tonight. Make sure she’s where she’s supposed to be rather than someplace where she shouldn’t be.”

Cassa sensed the air of hesitation that filled the area on the other side of the shrubs.

“Is she becoming a problem?”

She definitely didn’t like the flat, cold tone Cabal used now. He’d claimed he owned her the morning of his escape from that pit, and he took every opportunity to remind her that he could enforce that claim anytime he chose.

“She’s always a problem whether she’s here or at Sanctuary,” Jonas answered.

Cassa’s eyes narrowed. She was never a problem at Sanctuary. The Feline Breed stronghold was homier and a damned sight more welcoming to her than the Wolf Breed compound she was in now.

“You don’t know how to handle her,” Cabal injected.

Handle her? No one handled her, period.

“Only with a whip and a chair,” Jonas growled. “Callan and Merinus give her much too much freedom in Sanctuary. She thinks she deserves it elsewhere.”

“And this is my problem how?” Cabal argued. “She’s a reporter. You should have known better than to allow the invitation she was given to stand.”

Bodies shifted. Cassa was dying to look over the top of the shrubs, but she leaned to the side instead, to try to get a view through the open foliage of thick branches.

The glimmer of light from a nearby building revealed the two men. Jonas was still dressed in his tuxedo. Cabal though had changed into jeans, T-shirt and a rain-resistant jacket and boots. His black-striped golden blond hair dripped with the misty rain and fell long to his shoulders.

His shoulders were broad, his waist l

ean, his thighs muscular and his legs long. Standing there in the rain, he looked like the animal he was. In his prime, ready for action. Sexy as hell, mouth wateringly male.

She breathed in slow and easy, and felt the familiar slick warmth between her thighs.

“Just make certain she’s in her cabin, and well guarded, if you don’t mind,” Jonas ordered in a drawl heavy with mockery.

“And if I mind?” Cabal asked carefully.

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