“Tell Jonas to have Natalie escorted home and assign her a new bodyguard,” he told his sister as he fought the pain building in his chest. “I’ll follow up with the scientist we captured and see to his transport to Sanctuary.”
He had to force the words past his lips.
“And if he sends a male with her?” Chimera asked.
Saban just shook his head and moved away from her, knowing she would do exactly as he asked. She had never failed him, not once, not before their escape, not after. And if, as she asked, Jonas sent another male to guard his mate?
God, such pain shouldn’t be possible without an open wound. How could his heart still beat in his chest when it felt as though it were ripped from his body?
Love. God, he had waited for this, dreamed of it, from the moment he had learned that Breeds mated, that their one and only would be their natural one and only, he had waited and he had hoped.
And this was what he had hoped for? A woman who, though she may care for him, loved another.
He had to force himself not to look back at the mall, to the doors where he had left her. He had to force himself to the van where the scientist was confined, restrained and awaiting transport.
Saban stepped to the opened back doors and smiled. A slow, cold smile that showed his canines and bore little resemblance to a civilized being. He didn’t feel so civilized right now.
“Well now, Dr. Amburg.” He greeted the aging scientist with a growl. “How nice to see you here today. I trust you’re doing well?”
Beldon Amburg. He had tortured, murdered, experimented on, and destroyed more lives than Saban could count. His file was extensive; the proof of the atrocities committed at the lab he headed was stored in boxes rather than files.
“You’ve forgotten who your masters are, animal,” Amburg sneered. “One day, you’ll bow before us again, and we’ll know no mercy.”
“Oh, you knew mercy before?” Saban widened his eyes in surprise. “Well now, you’ll have to jus’ tell me ’bout dat lil’ thing,” he announced sarcastically as he stepped into the van and wrapped his fingers brutally around the thin neck of the scientist known as Bloody Amburg. “Right this way, Doctor. We have a nice little cell just waiting for you.”
The scientist gasped for air, but he put up little struggle. Saban dragged him from the bullet-ridden van to the secured security van that pulled up alongside it.
The back doors opened, revealing two Breeds, weapons held ready. The restraints locked into the floor of the van were lifted by a third Breed. And that one, Saban knew, would never leave Amburg alive if he had the chance. Mercury had more reason than most to see this particular scientist dead.
“Mercury, ride up front.” Saban pulled his captive in and took the ends of the restraints himself. Snapping them on, he felt the Breed behind him move to the side.
“I’ll let him live.” The voice was a demon’s growl, causing Amburg to collapse onto the wide metal seat bolted to the wall behind him.
“I’m just going to make sure.” Saban shook his head. “Ride up front. I’ll ride back here with Lawe and Rule.”
He took his seat, another metal bench facing Amburg.
Mercury snarled but moved from the van, allowing the other two Breeds to jump inside before securing the doors.
“We have two escorts front and back to Sanctuary,” Lawe announced. “Seems there’s a report there could be more Council soldiers in the vicinity. Jonas is expecting trouble.”
Saban kept his eyes on Amburg. “If they attack, put a bullet in his head. He’s not worth dying for.”
Amburg swallowed tightly, terror flashing in his cold, pale blue eyes.
Terror was a good thing, Saban thought, because right now, he was just enraged enough to kill for the simple hell of it. His mate was back at the mall, alone, without him, without the ex-husband she had risked her life to save.
And here he was, guarding a fucking Council doctor. Hell, today just sucked.
As Lawe moved to close the doors to the van, Saban looked out, his gaze moving instinctively to where he left Natalie. There, between the entrances to the mall she stood, one hand pressed to the glass door, her cheeks wet with tears. Her eyes were dark, too dark in her pale face, anguished, filled with pain. With sorrow.
As he watched, her lips moved, whispered his name, and he felt his soul shatter.
Lawe slammed the doors closed and secured, but nothing could erase the sight of her pain from his soul.
How the fuck could he ever live without her?
FOURTEEN
Saban sat outside the little brick house, outside Buffalo Gap, outside period.
Natalie’s bedroom light was on. She’d left the curtains cracked just the slightest bit, and he’d warned her about that. Warned her to the point that he had started closing them at night himself, just to make certain they were secure.
Well, maybe not just to make certain they were secure. Her bedroom was like this hive of scents. Everywhere he turned there was another subtle tease of a scent that made up Natalie. Her perfume, the smell of her soap and shampoo mingling, the scent of passion on her sheets, of frustration on her pillows. The smell of the feminine struggle against the male dominant force. Her unconscious, wary battle to hold back her own needs, her hungers, even as the scent of those needs and hungers reached out to him.
Hell. He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. How could he have been so wrong? Dammit, Natalie wasn’t a fickle woman. Fickle had a scent, just as deceit, dishonesty, and depravity had a scent. There was nothing fickle in what he smelled from his mate.
Stubborn. Eh, she had vast quantities of stubborn. Distrust, she had a fairly healthy dose of that as well. But her character was strong, pure.
He leaned his head back against the seat with a rough growl. He remembered clearly his rage when he realized what she had done. She had risked her life, risked the life they could have together, and her own soul with the horror she would have faced if Amburg had managed to take her. All to save the worthless hide of an ex-husband.
But hadn’t she also nearly wrecked the vehicle Callan had given her that first week to avoid a lame dog in the middle of the road that couldn’t move quick enough? Then, sweet mercy, what had that female done? She had gotten out of the car and approached it, despite its terrified growls and dazed eyes.
She had risked herself then as well. And him. He still carried the mark of that mangy mutt’s teeth in his leg where it had bitten him. All because molasses-brown eyes had been filled with tears, and his mate’s soft heart had decided the bastard deserved to live.
It could have rabies, yet, there he had been, risking his neck for a wounded, enraged animal so she wouldn’t risk hers.
Could Mike be no more than a stray that she feared he would euthanize?
Or was he attempting to make excuses for himself and the woman who owned his soul?
He inhaled warily, looked at the digital time displayed on the dashboard of his truck, and grimaced. It was nearly three in the morning. Natalie was still awake; he had seen her shadow pass the slit in the curtains. He knew the enforcers, Shiloh Gage and Mercury Warrant, were still awake.
Two of the most contrary Breeds ever born were Shiloh and Mercury. No doubt they were in different rooms, in opposite corners waiting, like a cat on a mouse, for the unwary.
No wonder Natalie was pacing the floors. When those two were on guard duty, conversation was in very short supply.
Damn. He’d sat out here in the dark feeling fucking sorry for himself long enough. He wasn’t going to have the answers he needed until he confronted her, until he asked her why she risked herself for her ex-husband. And he would have his answers.
He was man enough to accept that she had loved before, but he’d be damned if he was man enough to accept that those emotions could still remain for another man.