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“Control advised he was in place and tracking it, but he hasn’t sighted anything yet.” Handing Stygian a data pad, he picked up his own. “Here are the changes I’m considering—”
Stygian listened, but he watched the director as much as he did the plans that had been drawn up.
Jonas rarely showed the physical signs of weariness or worry, and he hadn’t aged a day since his mating, but worry creased his forehead now and there were shadows in those mercury eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Amber was getting worse.
And the knowledge of that was taking all choice from Stygian’s hands.
Something would have to be done soon.
Dog moved into place, watching the four Coyote Breeds waiting in the overhang of the canyon’s cliff.
Moving confidently, Mongrel and Mutt flanking him, he moved along the canyon wall before stepping into the cave-like overhang.
The four Breeds looked up, their hard faces sharply hewn, their eyes cold, hard.
“Satellites tracked your asses,” he growled at the men, irritation lacing his voice. “I told you to watch your fucking asses.”
The commander snorted at the information. “Yeah, we k
new that. Let them go on guard for a while, it will make them more vulnerable when we move in.”
Thane could be a bastard, and he was one of the few Breeds that Dog would hate to go up against. He was also one of the few Breeds he would trust his life with. The three Coyotes that followed Thane were of the same ilk, though their personalities varied. All four were hard, cold, almost dead inside though. And nothing or no one mattered more than preserving the Breed communities.
No matter the cost to themselves.
Dog eyed the other Breed for long moments as Loki, Mutt and Mongrel shifted behind him.
Thane was as tall as he was, at six four, powerfully muscular and without fear, he was a deadly enemy. His coloring was different from most Breeds. Rather than the blond to light brown hair, his was pitch black, his eyes blue, the Irish heritage from his mother clearly apparent.
“You still carrying a grudge?” Dog asked, knowing Thane hadn’t been happy at the loss of one of his men in an operation against a hidden start-up lab in the Middle East that had been holding abducted Breeds.
“The bastard was a death wish walking,” Thane admitted. “There’s no grudge to hold.”
Nodding, Dog moved to the gas fire ring and poured a cup of coffee into one of the extra metal mugs sitting next to it.
“We need to move soon,” Dog told them. “The Sinclair girl’s arrived, and only God knows what she might sense or reveal. Stay out of sight of those fucking satellites so we can at least blame it on the bastards in the North. That way Jonas won’t send a team your way when you make your move.”
“We know what we’re doing,” Thane stated.
“Maybe I’m just reminding you,” Dog mocked. “You have a problem with that?”
He wasn’t about to treat the Breed commander any differently than he would any other, even if he did often respect him more.
Thane quirked his lips in hard amusement.
“Don’t have a problem with that, Dog,” he drawled. “I was just reminding you as well.”
Like he needed reminders of any sort.
“Move into position tomorrow,” he told them, his gaze moving over each man. “Wait for my signal.”
“You think you can maneuver them that easy?” Thane asked as the others watched curiously.
“I can maneuver anything or anyone,” Dog informed him confidently.
He knew his limits, but his abilities to be just as calculating and merciless as Jonas Wyatt were in doubt. “The four of you just make sure you’re in place. I don’t want to risk our agenda and I sure as hell don’t want to risk our plans here. There’s too much riding on it.”
