To my son, Bret, who breaks my heart daily with the
sheer, unavoidable fact that he’s growing up, becoming
a man, and making me realize what an incredible job
he’s done in maturing. I can’t take the credit for the
wonderful young man he’s becoming; that success is his
alone to claim. And it’s one he’s improving upon daily.
And to Roo Roo. Yeah, you know who you are. I
couldn’t have been who I am, do what I do, or live as
I live without those first years that you befriended me.
There are no words to describe . . . There are no ways
to express . . . You saved me with the gift you gave me in
faith, in belief, and in love.
To both of you, you bless me daily.
FOREWORD
Throughout the ages man has struck against man with merciless strength through prejudice, ignorance or fear.
Humanity, in all its often courageous, intuitive and compassionate acts, is still capable of great evil against one another.
Blood has been spilled.
Power has been sought, fought for, betrayed for, and souls destroyed in the quest for.
And those who spilled the blood; started the wars; betrayed their countries, their friends and their children for power; sold their souls for it, have still had their moments of kindness, their moments of compassion.
But have we really learned from the past?
Have we taken to heart the mistakes our forefathers made and begun the quest to ensure they’re never made again?
This is the “What If . . .” behind the Breeds.
Have we learned from our past?
Have we learned from the prejudices, the acts of mercilessness, and the unthinking search for power our forefathers sought?
Or is man, in all his, or her, humanity, only waiting for the chance . . .
PROLOGUE
He fascinated her.
Tall. Male power was an intricate part of his perfectly proportioned frame, which only increased the appeal of height, muscle and lean deadly grace. He would be perfectly suited for the cover of GQ, in a boardroom or standing, weapon drawn, teeth bared and facing any enemy.
Or better yet, naked, aroused and more than ready to possess and conquer a lover too inexperienced to see beneath the surface to the male animal that awaited.
He made her only too aware that she was a woman. He made her fantasize about being that lover, of finding the experience to tease and to satisfy a man in his arms.
She was walking on dangerous ground, and Mica Toler knew it, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to resist the intense draw the Wolf Breed Navarro Blaine had on her.
Her father would have a coronary if he knew. Her mother would probably attempt to ground her. It had been years since Serena Toler had attempted to threaten her daughter with anything, let alone a grounding. But Mica could see it happening this time. Her mother definitely wouldn’t be pleased to know her daughter had taken one of the most dangerous, most indanger, men that she could choose.
The truth was, even if her mother had had such power, Mica admitted it wouldn’t have mattered. She couldn’t seem to keep her mind, or her hormones, off of the elegantly arrogant Wolf Breed, no matter how hard she tried.
And she knew well exactly how dangerous that could be.
Mica wasn’t best friends with Cassandra Sinclair for nothing. There were few people, human or Breed, that the younger woman trusted, and Mica was one of those that Cassie did trust. And Cassie talked to her. Mica had information that she knew was considered highly confidential. Information that could get Cassie and her parents into a hell of a lot of trouble with both the Breed Ruling Cabinet and the individual Wolf/Coyote Breed Ruling Cabinet.
Mica was perhaps the one of the very few people, human or Breed, that Cassie confided in. Like Mica, she had issues with trust, and those issues kept her more isolated than being a part of the Breed community did.
More to the point, now that Styx, the only other friend Cassie had allowed herself, had found his mate, Storme Montague, Cassie had no one else she confided in period, except Mica.
Mica knew about mating. It was a secret that wasn’t nearly as closely guarded as the Breeds would like it to be. It was a secret that she knew they feared would destroy the Breed communities.
The thought of that was almost amusing. The world was so fascinated with Breeds that it was insane. Those who loved them defended and protected them fanatically. Those who hated them hated them with a passion usually reserved for the greatest evil. It seemed there was no in-between when it came to either the dedication or the hatred aimed at the Breeds.
The truth of mating heat would only make those who loved them love them more. And it really wasn’t possible for those who hated them to hate them more, but it would definitely intensify the fear from that group, as well as the violence.
It could cause the Breeds problems, she admitted, but she didn’t believe it had the power to destroy them.
“Have the files come in from the EU yet?” Cassie Sinclair’s slightly distracted tone drew Mica from her scrutiny of the Breed in question and had her turning away from the window of the office of Haven public relations.
“Not yet, but my sources assure me there’s nothing in them that could harm the Breeds.” Mica forced her attention back to the electronic news spread that scrolled across the holographic display on the far wall.
From all over the world, news stories concerning Breeds were streamed into the holo-spread, many well in advance of the hard-copy papers and website uploads they would later appear on.
The United World Internet Laws allowed the Central News Monitoring organization time to review what could be the most seditious posts before they were uploaded. Those laws allowed the Breeds to monitor any inflammatory or potentially dangerous stories that could possibly cause violence against Haven or Sanctuary. They had little prep time, though, between the stories coming in and the actual live feeds as they posted to the Internet. Less than twelve hours in some cases.
“I see Tanner is once again wowing the crowds,” Mica drawled as the Bengal Breed appeared briefly on the spread, his infamous smile charming the world.
And damn if he wasn’t fine-looking. All that rich, midnight black hair tipped with the finest gold and that deep, sun-darkened skin. A body worth panting for. He was almost as fine-looking as Navarro.
“Tanner’s good at it,” Cassie murmured as she flipped between news stories. “He’s the face of the Breeds.”
Cassie had always said that, even as a child.
“Germany’s articles are late coming in.” Once again Cassie’s tone grew worried.
“Are you expecting something, Cassie?” Mica finally asked, mystified by the other woman’s demeanor.
Cassie seemed unaccountably anxious as she mumbled a “No” and gave a quick shake of her head.
Cassie’s deep blue eyes were narrowed on the e-pad once again as she scanned information coming through before her gaze went back to the halo-vision screens.
“Germany is always late, Cassie,” Mica reminded her as she glanced at the clock. “We still have an hour or so before we can consider them really late.”
Cassie’s lips thinned before she went back to work on whatever file she had pulled up.
“It would help if they were on time.” She sighed, shifting in her seat and causing the mass of blue black curls that fell around her shoulders and down her back to ripple in a wave of midnight color.
How the hell she managed to hold her head up with all that hair, Mica didn’t know.
“Why don’t you tell me what has you so nervous?” Mica suggested. “You know it doesn’t help to keep
these things in, Cassie, they just make you crazy.”
It was no less than the truth. Cassie was unique in more ways than one. She was completely unusual and, sometimes, damned frightening.
There were “gifts” she possessed, friends she walked with that others couldn’t see. There was one friend in particular that Cassie seemed to be losing touch with though, and Mica knew it worried her.
“Have you seen her?” Mica asked matter-of-factly after several seconds of watching her frown at the holo-vision.
Cassie stilled. The sudden stiffness was telling, and worrying.
Cassie had “friends” that others only dreamed of having. Her imaginary friends weren’t imaginary though. They were very real to her, and Mica had learned over the years that however Cassie knew what she knew, she was tortured by information she had more than once stated she wished she didn’t know.
The other girl shook her head slowly after a moment. “No.” Her voice was small, soft. “I haven’t seen her.”
The “her” was the one Cassie had called a fairy as a child. The young woman was beautiful, Cassie had once told Mica. Fragile and frail, with such an air of wisdom, warmth and grace that she had possessed the power to calm Cassie even during the most horrible events of her young life.
The “fairy” had recently begun disappearing though. At first for only a few days, then longer and longer, until lately it seemed that the woman only Cassie could see hadn’t reappeared at all.
“I don’t understand it,” Cassie finally said, the fear in her voice rocking Mica to her toes. “She warned me of the future, Mica, then she just disappeared. As though it was too horrible for her to have to stay and witness.”
Mica’s friend turned from the screens. Deep blue eyes were damp and welling with moisture, thick black lashes spiking with it as she obviously fought to hold the moisture back. There was the slightest tremble of her lips before she could contain it.
Cassie was obviously becoming more distressed by the day with the disappearance of the woman that had been a part of her life since she was a very young child.
“She’s done this before, Cassie,” Mica reminded her.
“But not for this long,” Cassie whispered, the cool calm she had adopted as a young adult disappearing to reveal a frightened young woman. “And not after such a warning.”
What could Mica say? She was never comfortable discussing the “fairy,” the ghosts that had come later or the other visions that sometimes visited Cassie.
“Give it time, Cassie, she’ll come. She’s always come back just when you thought she wouldn’t.”
“I don’t understand it.” Cassie moved quickly from her chair, those long loose curls waving around her in a manner that had Mica totally envious. “She’s never been gone this long before, Mica.”
Mica struggled to come up with something that would comfort Cassie. That was part of her job as Cassie’s part-time personal assistant. A damned fine-paying job, as she well knew. Whenever Dash Sinclair realized his daughter was becoming anxious or overloaded with work, then Mica was excused from her job as an accountant for a major news firm and flown to Sanctuary for however long Cassie needed her. Mica helped Cassie in the PR office, sometimes did minor accounting for the office and generally did all she could to take as much pressure as possible off Cassie’s shoulders.
If Mica felt bad about the fact that she was being paid to help her friend, then she tried to put it behind her. She forced herself to remember that without the Breed’s willingness to pay her, then Mica could never have afforded to help Cassie as she did. And the fact that Cassie needed someone to talk to, to confide in, had never been more apparent than it was now.
“And like you’ve said before,” Mica reminded her, “sometimes, she does things to make you work it out yourself. Maybe that’s why she’s absent longer this time. Sort of like a mother leaving a child with a babysitter so her baby doesn’t rely so heavily on her. You know?”
“Perhaps.” Cassie shrugged as she shoved her hands in the back pockets of her designer jeans.
That was a classic Cassie move. She was worried and fighting to make sense of whatever she was worrying over.
She turned to Mica again, her delicate, pretty face pulled into a confused expression. “Do you ever feel as though the world is simply spiraling out of your control?”
There was a hint of fear in her friend’s voice now, a haunted quality to her gaze that worried Mica. But, despite the worry, Mica couldn’t help but see the irony in her friend’s question.
Mica’s brows arched at the question. “Cassie, you are my best friend,” she stated with knowing emphasis. “I’m normally completely surrounded by Breeds and their hectic, dangerous lives. I’m at your beck and call at any time, whenever you need me, and often harassed by reporters anytime I’m in public. Do you think my world ever feels as though it’s already spiraled, crashed, burned and drifted into the far corners of the earth?”
It was the truth, though Mica often found it more amusing than anything else. She’d learned early to take the Breeds, their arrogance and often calculating, manipulative personalities, with a grain of salt. She was stuck with them, plain and simple, so she may as well make the best of it.
The journalists were harder to deal with, and she thanked God daily that she had found a job with the National Journal , owned by the family of Merinus Tyler Lyons, the mate of the Feline pride leader, Callan Lyons.
The National Journal was one of the few papers left still in hard copy, as well as on e-feed and satellite upload. It was also one of the few that didn’t attempt to “reveal” gossip against the Breeds as truth. Instead the paper reported and reminded the world of the hell the Breeds had endured.
Finally, Cassie’s lips twitched as Mica continued to stare back at her archly.
Then, she cleared her throat delicately. “Perhaps I’m asking the wrong person?” Thankfully, a hint of amusement gleamed in her unusual eyes.
“I’d guess you are.” Mica rolled her eyes, silently thankful that the tears had disappeared from Cassie’s gaze.
She couldn’t stand to see her friend cry. It rarely happened, but when it did, it destroyed those who loved her. And Mica did love her. Cassie was her best friend, her sister, her confidante and, sometimes, her partner in crime. Those crimes were few and far between these days.
They’d become women together, and Mica couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have as a friend. She also couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have watching her back than Cassie. The other girl was small, delicate, but the Breeds had taught her, and Mica also, some of the most advanced forms of martial arts.
They had met when Cassie’s stepfather, Dash Sinclair, had returned home from war to search for the little girl who had been his pen pal and her mother, both of whom supposedly had been killed in an apartment explosion.
Cassie and her mother, Elizabeth, had not been dead though. They had been running, fighting to survive and to escape the drug kingpin who had bought Cassie from her father. The father who had conspired with a Council scientist for money and had allowed his wife’s eggs to be used to create a unique, highly specialized Breed. A Wolf-Coyote mix. The scientist had hoped the hybrid genetics would create the killer the Genetics Council sought and hadn’t yet been able to reliably produce. And he’d wanted to further the experiment by having that child raised rather than trained, to see how reliable those killer genes would be.
Instead, Cassie had been born.
An inquisitive, precocious child who loved, not killed.
And one whose father feared her and her ability to betray him for the monster he was the first time she had to see a doctor after the scientist that created her disappeared.
He’d known he was about to be found out, and without the money the scientist had been providing, his gambling debts had been mounting.
So he’d sold her to the criminal he owed the money to. Fortunately, Elizabeth had been smart enough not to trust her husband after they sp
lit up. She’d rescued her daughter and gone on the run with her until Dash had found them and brought them to the Toler ranch until he could contact Sanctuary, which was at that time the only Breed community, and arrange protected status for her.
During the time Cassie had spent at the ranch Mica had become attached to her despite the few years difference in their ages. Cassie had needed a sister, and Mica had seen in the little girl a desperate hunger to be loved despite whatever haunted her.
Hands still shoved in her back pockets, Cassie paced over to Mica’s desk, breaking into her thoughts, sighed and let her gaze move to the reports scrolling over the e-pad.
“There’s the Germany reports,” she murmured.
Mica glanced at the screen. They were indeed there.
“Play file mark seven point six three,” Mica ordered the computer.
“File seven point six three,” the computerized voice authorized a second before the file flashed on the holoscreen on the other side of the room: “File seven point six three, Berlin, Germany. Breeds suspected in rescue of Prime Minister’s daughter kidnapped from her home; Feline Breed pride leader, Callan Lyons, to visit Luxembourg; suspected Genetics Council lab discovered by teens while hiking.” No mention of mating, hormones, phenomena, or blood irregularities. Each article title was read and a report given after each, as Mica and Cassie watched intently the words scrolling across the holographic screen.
Dozens of articles flashed through the automated program set to search specific words, phrases and information listings. Each came back with a negative response.
Mica watched the screen intently, her gaze taking in many of the headings dealing with the Wolf Breed Haven and Feline Breed Sanctuary. The compounds were treated like mysteries. Reporters fought to get permission to visit, camped at the outer gates and had tried to fly as close as possible for pictures before the areas were designated nofly zones.
“It looks as though it’s all clear,” Mica stated as the last file winked out. “Another day, another reprieve.”
“Another reprieve,” Cassie repeated softly. “Isn’t that how it feels sometimes?”
Mica had to admit that was exactly what it often felt like. Each time she was drawn here to help Cassie with the PR office, she was once again reminded how in-depth Breed awareness had to be. They had to keep their eyes on every new article, every reporter and reporter wannabe, as well as those who simply wanted to make up the stories and stir the flames that were often licking at the Breeds’ heels.
It was irritating, aggravating, but Mica knew there were times when Cassie thrived on the work.
Turning her gaze back to the window, Mica was once again greeted by the sight of the Breed she knew in the end was going to completely mess her life up.
Yep, this fascination was much too strong, and no matter what the Wolf Breed scientist Nikki Armani said, Mica knew the potential for mating heat had to be there.
The tests for the mating hormone in the blood had advanced over the years. The Breed scientists were now able to pinpoint the smallest abnormalities that could make a human female a viable candidate for being a Breed male’s mate. And Nikki had assured Mica more than once, after several tests, that there was no chance in hell Navarro was her mate, or had the potential to mate her.
The fact was that Mica’s tests had shown a mating viability, though there was still no way to tell exactly who that mate could be. All they could do at this point was tell who the mate wasn’t, and supposedly, Navarro wasn’t viable as her mate.
It was hard to believe that potential wasn’t there.
Watching him now as he stood in the communal courtyard that sat in the center of the large block of cabins and small houses, talking to another Wolf Breed, Stygian, the Coyote Cavalier and the Coyote second in command, Brim Stone, Mica feared the doctor had to be wrong. She could feel her skin prickling, a sense of arousal and anticipation flaring inside her, and an overwhelming curiosity she couldn’t seem to fight.
Navarro stood confidently, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression thoughtful as he leaned against the heavy trunk of a large oak and nodded back at the other men.
Dressed in silk slacks and a white Egyptian shirt, his perfectly styled black hair in a moderate length brushed back from his face, he was the epitome of a successful, strong male. A human male was his cover. His recessed genetics allowed him to move around the world as the Blaine media empire’s reigning heir rather than the Breed Enforcer created and trained to trick and deceive.
She knew the fierce canines most Breeds displayed proudly at the sides of their mouths were absent in Navarro’s case because of his recessed genetics. She didn’t know if he had body hair, or if like other Breeds his was absent as well, but she would have loved to have found out.
What she did know was that despite the fact he was indeed a Breed, there wasn’t a test on Earth that could prove it. He was what they called “recessed,” his Breed genetics buried so deeply on the cellular level as to be almost impossible to find.
That didn’t make him less of a Breed though. She knew he could snarl just as brutally and fight just as mercilessly as any other Breed.
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Cassie’s smooth drawl had Mica jerking around, guilt flashing through her at her friend’s knowing look.
The guilt turned quickly to amusement. “Yeah, he is,” she agreed, sneaking another look outside as Navarro straightened from the tree, his gaze wandering from the other men before coming to the window Mica and Cassie were sitting in front of.
Mica nearly winced as Cassie waved enthusiastically. Navarro’s gaze narrowed, and, a slight, wary nod was given in return.
Cassie’s light laugh was affectionate and much too interested. “He’s so reserved. It makes you wonder what he’s like with a lover.”
Mica’s teeth clenched. Hell no, she didn’t wonder what he would be like with a lover. Unless that lover was her.
“Wow, Mica . . .” Cassie’s tone was shocked, amazed, causing Mica to barely bite back her curse.
Damn, she knew to watch her reactions, to make certain she didn’t let hers