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She’d had a feeling she had been betrayed then, but only her men had known where she was that day, and what she was doing. No one else had known, and she sure as hell hadn’t given up her location herself.
Her thoughts were cut off as the elevator door opened, depositing them out into the busy lobby of the hotel.
“Too damned bad that fucker Brandenmore died,” Malcolm muttered behind her. “We could have just beaten the information out of him.”
That had been Malcolm’s suggestion from the beginning. Hell, his Christmas wish had been for two minutes with the dead man to ensure he suffered before he killed him again.
A grown man who still made Christmas wishes. It never failed to amuse her.
Just as the thought of Brandenmore never failed to piss her off.
Brandenmore had been in bed with the Genetics Council well before he’d even realized it. His father and his grandfather both had supported the Genetics Council and hoped to benefit from the experiments and creations the Council had conceived.
Through his connection to them and the revelation of the aging retardation with Breed matings, Brandenmore had been drawn in to research the phenomenon.
A phenomenon he had found reason to suspect could not only retard aging but would also cure any human diseases the human mate may have.
Once any female child given the serum hit puberty, Brandenmore had theorized, then she would possess the ability to mate with any Breed as well. That the serum would slow her aging once she hit her sexual maturity, cure any disease, and also ensure Breed hybrid conception and possibly help Brandenmore find the cure to the cancer that ran in his family
Which wasn’t exactly true, as Diane understood it. Mating heat did much more than Brandenmore’s serum, and much less, if his files and the information Rachel had given her were anything to go by.
Breeds mated for life, Rachel had told her. The Breeds known to have lost a mate and survived that loss lived sad, miserable lives. The serum wasn’t a mating. It couldn’t ease or cure a mating. And in Brandenmore’s case, it had caused a painful and horrifying death.
“Wyatt is sending a car for us,” Aaron informed her as they crossed the lobby and headed for the front exit. “It’s supposed to be waiting outside the hotel.”
Diane nodded rather than making the scathing comment she would have at any other time.
This meeting with Jonas was too important to chance any transportation other than the Bureau’s. She just hoped he had gotten the hint and found a way to distract her men before the meeting began.
“One of my contacts called last night.” Thor leaned close as the other men moved ahead. “I need to meet with him tonight. He may have some information where General Roberts and his daughter are concerned.”
She glanced up at him, suddenly aware of the fact that he was ensuring no one heard him but her.
“How reliable is your contact?” she asked Thor, once again patting herself on the back for making him her lieutenant. If what he was telling her were the truth and not a betrayal.
He’d become an information magnet since achieving the small raise in pay. Suspicion aside, he had never failed to find whatever they needed, no matter the mission they were on.
“Reliable,” he said softly. “But I’d prefer to keep this between us for the moment. No sense in disappointing the others while they’re dreaming of vacations,” he snorted.
Diane forced a grin, though she had to admit, the others were anticipating that vacation if Jonas himself hadn’t learned anything.
Would a man determined to betray her be so eager to escape her presence?
“Let me know when you leave,” she told him quietly. “Do you need backup?”
“I shouldn’t,” he answered. “But I’ll let you know once I check a few things out.”
That was odd for Thor. He rarely went without backup, and never had she seen that dark glimmer of suspicion that she saw in his eyes now. Despite the excuses he was giving, there were other reasons he wasn’t informing the others of the meeting he was setting up. Looking at each man, she couldn’t imagine any of them betraying her, though she knew, to the soles of her feet, she knew someone had betrayed her in Syria. She also knew she was being watched in the past months. That suspicion, an itch at the back of her neck, wouldn’t go away.
Moving through the exit, Diane paused, her gaze moving up and down the crowded D.C. street as a frown began to pull at her brow.
Jonas was never late, and neither were his Enforcers or drivers.
“Car’s not here,” Thor muttered, his confusion and his concern evident in his voice as well.
“Traffic jam maybe?” Malcolm queried as he too began to tense.
Diane felt it then, that peculiar itch at the back of her neck, that early warning that wasn’t so early.
