Jonas watched as the small, slender form of the female Breed was literally dragged into the holding building with its single cell and interrogation room. The three Breeds hauling her into the cement building looked the worse for wear. Bruised faces, split lips and blood marred their savage features, and the most powerful of the three, Mercury Warrant, had a tourniquet tied high on his thigh, above the knife wound he had received. The sleeve of Rule’s black uniform was sliced and wet with blood. Lawe would carry another scar on his face, low along his chin.
Harmony was dumped into the small metal chair beside a scarred wooden table, the manacles at her wrists and ankles attached to a metal ring in the floor. She was secured, confined. Dressed in light gray boxer-style underwear and a matching tank top, she showed no reaction to either the chill of the air or the bruises and scrapes that covered her shoulders and arms.
Her breathing was slow and easy, her overall demeanor calm as her oddly streaked black hair covered her face and hid her expression from him. What more would he see if he could stare into those incredible eyes? Had she only strengthened her ability to hide there as well?
Harmony had grown as a killer over the years, as a fighter. Self-control, twenty years of military training and a fierce determination to live and to exact vengeance had made her a commodity eagerly sought on the killing market.
He stared at the file that rested on the monitor shelf in front of him. It bulged with evidence of suspected kills, sightings and psych reports.
She had taken her first job no more than a year after her escape from the labs ten years before; she had become more proficient and deadly over the years. She had also become better at hiding. There were any number of people after the woman called Death. Not just because of her reputation for being the best, but because of the information she had taken the day she escaped the labs, and the information she had stolen since.
His lips quirked in amusement as respect curled within him. She had outdistanced the projections the scientists had made in regards to her ability, to become the perfect assassin.
He watched as the door to the confinement cell opened and the scientist over the Breed medical facility walked into the room, carrying the plastic medical tote that held the syringes and vials for the samples she would need.
“Harmony, my name is Ely.” Elyiana Morrey’s voice was soft, sympathetic. “You’re not in any danger here.”
There was no response.
“I need a few blood samples and a saliva swab. It won’t take long and I promise it won’t hurt.”
Jonas had a feeling Harmony really didn’t give a damn. As Merc moved in closer to protect the scientist, she stopped at Harmony’s side, lifting her arm to the table.
Harmony stayed relaxed, still, as Ely tied the rubber strap around her upper arm and moved to test the veins. Jonas watched the muscles in Harmony’s arm flex, then tense. The action would prevent the needle from effectively finding the veins beneath the skin. The ability Breeds had learned in the labs, to control their muscles, had been developed just for this purpose. Ely’s gaze was concerned as she looked up at the camera, meeting Jonas’s.
“Tell her you’ll sedate her if she doesn’t cooperate,” Jonas ordered coldly.
Ely’s gaze snapped with disapproval as his order came through the comm link she wore.
“Do it, Ely. Now is not the time to argue.”
Her lips thinned.
“Harmony, I’ve been ordered to sedate you if you don’t cooperate. Please don’t make me do that.”
Jonas almost grinned at Ely’s compassion. Harmony would slice her throat without a thought if that were what it took to escape.
But Harmony relaxed, never betraying a flinch as the needle found her vein. Two vials later Ely pulled a cotton swab from the tote.
“Open your mouth, I need a saliva swab now.” Harmony stayed still.
Jonas sighed. “Merc, pull her head back and force her mouth open.”
Harmony wasn’t going to make this easy for anyone.
As Merc pulled her head back, his powerful hand clamping on her jaw, Jonas saw her face. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing on the delicate bone structure, the wide tilted eyes with their sooty lashes, the glimpse of green fiery rage in her eyes.
Ely took the swab quickly, stored it, then moved back from the table as Merc released the girl.
The blood and saliva samples were imperative. For their plan to work he had to prove the suspicion his senses had picked up, and make certain Harmony hadn’t yet mated. That could really foul his plans.
The only way, at this point, to neutralize Harmony was to kill her. Killing her would not give Jonas or the Breed Ruling Cabinet the answers or the information they needed. Killing her would destroy his soul, but he knew Harmony would never trust him now. She was harder, too cautious and too aware of how easily she could be betrayed.
First, he had to weaken her, he had to find a vulnerability.
If his suspicions were correct, that vulnerability was strutting around Broken Butte, New Mexico, with all the arrogance and control of a man comfortable in the domain he had created.
At that thought, Jonas’s lips curled in a satisfied smile as he rose to his feet and moved for the doorway of the office and the interrogation cell beyond. Before leaving the room, he picked up the brush lying on the desk, tested the bristles against his palm and nodded shortly.
It had been many years since he had calmed her by brushing her hair. He wondered if she was still susceptible to what few good memories the labs had held. They had been few and far between, but despite the years they had spent apart, he was still her brother. Not just of the same species, but of the same mother.
The mother she had killed.
CHAPTER 1
BROKEN BUTTE, NEW MEXICO
TWO WEEKS LATER
She was being watched. Harmony pulled her sporty Jeep into the parking lot of the small, rundown little bar just inside Broken Butte and considered her options.
She was scheduled to arrive at the Sheriff’s Department in the morning, or else. Jonas’s “or else,” of course. So what the hell was she doing here when she should be going over those files tucked in her suitcase back at the hotel?
Because she was bored. Bored and restless and damned pissed at herself for allowing it to happen. The combination of emotions was depressing, and Harmony didn’t do depressed well. She needed just a little fun. Just enough to maybe liven the night a bit. Nothing too heavy. A drink, maybe a good fight.
Her eyes narrowed at the entrance to the bar. With any luck, her tail would decide to make his way inside to be certain she was there. If she didn’t tag him, then she was going to have to go hunting. And she just didn’t have time to go hunting right now.
No, Harmony Lancaster, once known as Death, was going to have to toe the good-girl line for a six full months.
Which meant no going hunting. No unauthorized bloodshed. She grimaced at that, as she slung her tote over her shoulder and slammed the door to the Jeep closed.
Death, a good girl. Now there was an oxymoron. The very thought of it was enough to leave a sour taste in her mouth. It was one of the reasons she was making her way into this seedy little bar rather than researching her upcoming opponent: the good sheriff of Broken Butte.
Pushing her way through the old, saloon-style doors, she paused at the entrance, her gaze going over the array of cowboys staring back at her.
As she slid onto an empty bar stool, Harmony let her eyes sweep over the dancers at the far end of the room.
“What can I do for ya, honey?” She turned to the bartender’s booming voice.