her body.
Emma sent a jab to her jaw. Sweeping back and going to the floor, Liza caught herself on her shoulders and arms, legs swinging out as she rolled and swept Emma off balance.
As the Breed went down, Liza was there, her fist coming in and stopping short of Emma’s throat in what would have been a killing blow for a human. For a Breed, at the very least, it would cause a lengthy incapacitation, giving Liza a chance to escape.
As Liza blinked down at the shock in Emma’s face, she quickly jumped back, stared down at her hands, then to the Breeds and two friends watching her in wide-eyed disbelief.
In Claire’s eyes though, Liza saw fear—and a desperate warning.
Fear that the minute changes they had experienced after their recovery would be detected and alter them in the eyes of their loved ones.
The warning that she was skirting the line and placing them both in danger.
“Who the fuck are you and where did Liza go?” Emma sat up slowly, her gaze narrowed.
“I told you she was holding back,” Shiloh crowed in triumph as her mocking laughter filled the basement. “What have I been telling you for months and you couldn’t see it? Every damned time she could have shown she was picking up these damned moves she would back off like a scared little baby.”
“I never showed her that move.” Emma watched Liza as though she were a particularly complicated puzzle.
“Neither did I,” Ashley stated.
“No, we didn’t. But have you forgotten what Liza does for fun? She buys fighting videos and practices without us. I told you all along she was going to kick your asses one day when you least expected it.”
The suspicion, thank God. Oh, thank God. It eased from Ashley’s and Emma’s gaze as Shiloh’s explanation sank in.
Chelsea shook her head in amazement as Claire slowly began to relax.
“I watch Breeds fight too,” she reminded them all. “Their sparring sessions can get real interesting.”
“It can’t be easy sparring alone though,” Emma pointed out, a frown beginning to mar her brow.
“Tell me about it,” Liza breathed out roughly as she collapsed on the mat and took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how many bruises I’ve gotten down here?”
It wasn’t a lie. There was no deceit in the statement. That part was easy to cover, especially when she was able to hide her face against her knees and simply concentrate on breathing.
One breath in, one out. One in, one out.
“Well, hell, I can actually tell Link now you’re just about ready.” Emma gave a short nod. “Claire will take a little longer, but she’s getting there.”
“I’ll so obviously not be on the front lines,” Claire said in amusement. “I prefer driving anyway.”
And there, Claire was excelling.
“Yeah, she has like fucking mad driving skills,” Ashley exclaimed in sudden excitement. “She’ll never lose control of a vehicle again.”
The sudden reminder had Liza taking in a hard breath. Her head jerked up, eyes opening wide.
She didn’t want to see that memory flashing through her mind again, or feel what she had felt when she had seen the darkness of death opening up around her.
She could swear she’d heard the wails of the dead. And it wasn’t a white light she’d seen. It had been darkness. Nothingness. Such a void of complete nothing that it had rocked her soul.
The same sight Claire had faced as the car exploded around them, the force of the blast blowing the doors open and throwing them from the vehicle seconds before flames had engulfed it.
“Okay, shower.” Liza jumped to her feet, feeling the sticky residue of perspiration drying on her flesh. “How about pizza?” she asked the others. “We could phone in the order before we shower and eat it hot.”
The others called out their agreement in unison as Chelsea, Claire and Liza headed upstairs to shower.
The four Breed females made their way to the gym-style shower that had been built into the house by the owners before they’d moved, who had left the three-bedroom rancher with a finished basement intended to serve as a fully functional gym.
Liza called in the pizza order before heading into her bedroom and quickly stripping.
Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water wash away not just the memories she didn’t want resurfacing again, but also that irritating sensation just beneath the flesh in each area Emma’s hands had gripped her during their sparring.
She felt bruised to the bone in several areas; in others, it felt as though the Breed’s touch had somehow become allergic.
It wasn’t until she’d showered, dried and dressed in loose cotton pants and a T-shirt that she began to feel human once again.
She was quickly twisting an elastic band into the damp strands of her braided hair when a horrified scream pierced the silence of the house.
“Claire!” A breath of fear rushed from her lungs as Liza felt the sweeping autopilot sensation rush through her once again.
She didn’t rush.
Claire screamed again, but as though she were watching someone else, Liza quickly slid open her dresser drawer to retrieve the laser-guided, laser-powered, ammo-loaded side arm her father had given her after Isabelle had been attacked by Holden Mayhew.
The distance between her and her actions slowly receded until she was moving, blessedly no longer watching herself, to her bedroom door. Flipping out the lights, Liza jerked open the door and went out in a roll, her gaze sweeping over the room.
Claire’s cry was weaker this time, the sound of a struggle in a room indicating the danger her friend was in.
Council-controlled Breeds.
In the next breath, the sound of gunfire rocked the house.
Liza shuddered with each blast, counting four even as she rushed for Claire’s room.
“Chelsea! Emma!” She was screaming out for the others as she gripped Claire’s doorknob and tried to jerk it open.
Locked.
Claire never locked her door.
The sound of glass breaking and Breed snarls filled the night as Chelsea burst from her room on the other side of the house, her voice rising in fear as she screamed out Claire’s name.
At the same time, she could hear Ashley, Emma and Shiloh tearing up the stairs from the basement, shouting orders and calling out something to Chelsea as they reached the kitchen.
Liza didn’t hesitate. Lifting the gun, she fired on the doorknob, watching the metal knob shatter and fly from its secured position as the door released.
Kicking it in, Liza threw herself into the room, her weapon lifting, instantly finding her first target as she brought herself up with her back to the wall and froze.
Blood splattered along the wall on the far side of the room where a Coyote Breed was slumped, staring sightlessly, lifelessly out at the scene before him.
Claire’s scream pierced the night again, but she was backed into a corner, a weapon similar to the one Liza held in her hands, shaking, trained on Stygian, then to Rule Breaker, then the Coyote and finally at Dog. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
“Claire. Please help me,” Liza cried out, keeping the plea just weak enough to pierce the haze Claire was in with the appearance of another’s pain.
“Liza?” Claire didn’t sound dazed or uncertain, but the weapon was still shaking as Stygian and the others watched her now, clearly uncertain of what to do next.
“Claire.” It was Dog who spoke up, his voice holding a soothing, tranquil tone Liza hadn’t really expected he could possess. “Do you remember me, sweetheart?”
Claire stared at him, wide-eyed, terror whitening her face, though only a cold, hard look filled her gaze.
Claire licked her lips and gave a jerky nod. “Why are you here? Are you with them?” She gestured to the dead Breed.
“Them?” Dog glanced around. “Are there more, Claire?”
“There were two.” A sob broke in her voice. “They were waiting when I came from the shower.
” Tears spilled from her eyes as she steadied the weapon. “Were you with them too?”
“Claire, Stygian wouldn’t hurt us.” Liza laid her own weapon aside, reality setting in as she began shaking as hard as Claire had been.
Her friend’s gaze jerked to her, then back to the Breeds. At the door to the room Ashley, Emma and Shiloh were holding Chelsea back and keeping her quiet.
“Liza.” Claire’s lips trembled violently. “They were going to take us,” she suddenly whispered. “They were going to take both of us, and they were going to hurt us—”
“I know,” Liza assured her quickly. She had to get Claire calm and settled. She couldn’t say more. “Claire, Dog, Stygian and Rule are here to help us, honey. Let me have the gun.”
Liza took a step toward her.
A low, barely perceptible rumble of a growl feathered through the room, causing Liza’s head to jerk around and Claire’s weapon to jerk back up, her finger tightening on that trigger again.
It was aimed directly at Stygian’s chest.
“Claire, please, don’t hurt Stygian.” The sudden terrified tremble in her voice must have pierced Claire’s terror long enough for her friend to finally realize who she was training the weapon on, and who was thrown back against the wall, dead.
They knew that Coyote.
The weapon suddenly fell from Claire’s hand.
In a movement so fast Liza swore he was a blur, Rule caught the weapon a second before he caught Claire in his arms.
She slumped against his chest, unconscious, lying limply against him as Stygian and Dog, Emma, Ashley and Shiloh suddenly started moving.
Rule lifted Claire into his arms and rushed through the empty shell of a frame where the large bedroom window had once been. Outside, lights were swirling, flashing as the sound of a heli-jet landed in the yard outside.
Stygian was snapping orders into the comm-link at his ear while Dog was quickly going over the dead Coyote’s body.
Then, and only then did Liza see the other body stretched out on the other side of the bed.
Only the boots at first were visible.
Stepping closer, Liza lifted a trembling hand to her lips as she suddenly turned to Stygian.
He was directing the female Coyotes, giving orders in a hard, commanding tone when he turned quickly to her as though he knew exactly where she stood.
His gaze dropped to her feet.
“We have another!” Stygian suddenly called out. “Apprise cleanup we have two assailants. I repeat, we have another body.”
Stepping over to her, he stared down at the human, stretched out on his back, his dark gaze staring lifelessly up at the ceiling.
Lank, dark brown hair fell back from his face while the pale, hard-angled planes of his face seemed twisted into an expression of bemusement.
“Holden Mayhew’s brother,” she whispered. “His name is Harlen.”
Holden Mayhew had been, Liza had hoped, the only psychotic in the family.
Evidently she was wrong.
The month before, his brother had died attempting to first rape, then weeks later, kidnap Isabelle Martinez.
Holden’s fury at his inability to have the niece of the president of the Nation had so infuriated him that once he’d learned she was a Breed’s lover, he’d attempted to abduct her and sell her to the Genetics Council–loyal Coyotes who had made the bargain to give him a fortune for her.
It had been his brother, Harlen, who had first warned Holden of Isabelle’s interest in Malachi. Liza hadn’t really believed such insanity could be hereditary.
“She killed them both,” Liza whispered as she turned her gaze to the Coyote still sitting motionlessly against the far wall, his blood sprayed around him from the chest wound he’d sustained.
“Good for her.” Stygian’s tone was savage. “Her father’s been notified and she’s being flown to a secured section of the hospital now. She’s just in shock, unconscious, but we want to be certain she’s okay otherwise.”
Liza nodded. Joe would be at the hospital. He would ensure only the Nation’s healers oversaw her care rather than the Breeds, who would most certainly use this to their own advantage if given the chance.
“This was my room,” Liza suddenly realized.
Stygian’s gaze jerked back to her as two Breeds moved past them and began preparing the bodies for transport.
“What did you say?” he growled.
Liza turned her gaze up to him. “Until a week ago,” she said faintly, “this was my bedroom. I wanted to paint the walls in Isabelle’s former room before I moved in, and we weren’t able to get it done quickly. Claire was sleeping on the couch until we finished it. I just finished moving in days ago.” She had to swallow before she could go on. “They were coming after me again, weren’t they, Stygian?”
She could feel it. Her stomach was tight with dread, her chest clenched with panic.
“They’ve been after you since before the morning Diane Broen found you on that jogging trail,” he agreed. “We warned you of that, Liza. That morning, we warned you that you were a target.”
“But it doesn’t make sense,” she whispered. “Stygian, I can’t help them get whatever they want. I don’t even know what they want. Why come after me?”
Gripping her arm, Stygian moved her carefully into the living room, where Chelsea, Ashley, Emma and Shiloh were waiting.
Chelsea moved to join them, though after a quick, whispered comment from Ashley, hesitated before she stepped back to the other three girls.
“Stygian, what the hell is going on?” she demanded again, keeping her voice low, quiet.
“I’m not certain yet, Liza.” A quick shake of his head had her realizing how his hair flowed, like a warrior’s, around his face.
Falling to his broad shoulders, the raven black strands looked like living threads of coarse silk.
Even now, amidst a danger she hadn’t expected and had no idea how to deal with, all she wanted to do was touch him. Have him touch her.
She wanted his arms around her, because suddenly, she felt so damned alone and so adrift in a world she had no idea how to understand.
Nothing made sense any longer.
“Come here.” As though he had read her mind, sensed her need, as though somehow those incredible primal senses he possessed were able to see into the heart of the woman and the fear clogging her mind, his arms were around her and he was wrapping her close to the warmth of his body.
She hadn’t realized how chilled she had become, how cold she was. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his body heat to still the ice slowly moving through her system.
“Oh God, Stygian.” Holding her arms between their bodies, her fingers clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, over the reassuring beat of his heart, she let that shudder of terror have its way.
It tore through her, shaking her until she felt weak, pulling several tears from her eyes despite her attempt to hold them back.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, almost terrified to let the words free. “Please, tell me what’s happening.”
She felt as though she were tearing apart inside, twisting into so many directions that nothing made sense anymore.
The sparring match and the sudden release of the abilities she had been fighting so hard to hide.
Claire’s screams and her reaction, so outside the realm of what she had been trained for so far.
None of it made sense. None of it meshed with the world she knew and understood.
“We’ll figure it out, baby.” His head bent over hers, the endearment whispered against her ear as he all but rocked her, easing the terrible fears tearing through her. “I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I promise, we’re going to figure it out.”
Stygian held her as close to his own body as he could, trying to share his body heat, to warm the icy chill of her flesh as she shivered and shuddered in his arms.
Glancing over her head to Ashley, he mouthed the word blanket, concerned
with the unusual cold attacking her.
No doubt it was her reaction to the shock tearing through her, but the severity was concerning him. And it was concerning Chelsea as well.
The other girl was on the phone; if he wasn’t mistaken, she was talking, if not to her uncle, the president of the Navajo Nation, then to her father, Terran Martinez. There would be no time to have the blood and saliva samples taken from Claire Martinez that Jonas wanted, in the hospital by certified technicians who could testify to having collected it, before the Navajo healers reached her.
It wouldn’t surprise Stygian to learn the healers were waiting at the hospital. There were forces definitely determined to stand between the Breeds, and Liza and Claire.
Fortunately, Rule had raced her straight to the heli-jet and would take the samples himself before arriving at the hospital, just to ensure they were collected.
It wouldn’t be exactly what was needed, as the supplies needed wouldn’t be in the heli-jet. But what was there might be enough for Jonas to collect those samples needed for the deep-level DNA testing.
As Ashley stepped forward with the blanket and helped Stygian wrap it around Liza, she quickly drew his attention.
“Unable to heli-jet,” Ashley whispered, her voice low enough that he doubted Liza heard her. “Navajo intercepted Rule. Transport is by Navajo Nation law enforcement with Rule and Dog following to ensure arrival.”
Stygian’s brows lifted.
Now that was damned unusual. So much for getting samples in the heli-jet.
But it wasn’t the first time it had happened.
Getting Breed doctors in to take care of Isabelle Martinez after her attempted abduction by Holden Mayhew had been nearly impossible.
Like Liza, he was beginning to wonder just what the fuck was going on.
Tightening his arms around the woman he knew in his soul was his mate, and swallowing the taste of the hormone easing from the glands beneath his tongue, Stygian lifted her gently into his arms and moved to the bedroom Chelsea had informed Emma was Liza’s.
He wanted her away from the commotion and the knowledge of the dead bodies being removed from Claire’s room. He wanted her calm and warm and able to talk.
He wanted to know why his mate was suddenly attracting Genetics Council Coyotes and soldiers when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for the first time in his life, someone was exactly as she seemed.
Faults.
A dark past.
Mistakes made that he knew caused her pain now.
It was all there.
And she would be all his.
Soon.
CHAPTER 9
She had to be dreaming.
Liza pinched the tender flesh on the inside of her arm.
Fuck, that hurt.
Looking down at the mark, she glared at the reddened area of skin the small wound had left.
Okay, so a pinch could actually hurt in a dream. She would go with that.
What else could prove it was a dream?
When she was younger, she had tricks she had used, just to assure herself that she was actually alive and not just a figment of someone’s imagination.
Or one of her parents’ nightmares.
She’d picked at her cuticles until they were raw.
That had always assured her she was actually a real person.
She looked at her nails.
Damn, her cuticles looked good too. Nice and healthy in ways they hadn’t been when she was a teenager.
What else could she do?
There wasn’t a lot left. After all, there came a point when she had to admit she was either asleep or awake. Surely she would reach that point soon.
If it hurt, it was supposed to be real.
Right?
She could kiss Stygian, some demonic imp suggested silently. Just kiss him hard and deep and see if that mating stuff was true.
If it was, then that would assure her she was alive.
“Liza?” Looking up from where she sat on the comfortable couch in the suite of the hotel the Breeds were pretty much staking claim to, she stared at the cup of coffee Rachel Broen-Wyatt, Jonas Wyatt’s wife, was setting on the table in front of her. “Here’s some coffee. It will help with the shock.”
Shock? They thought she was in shock?
Well, God bless their hearts.