He prayed. Oh God he prayed, as he quickly unlocked the window on the far side of the living room and lifted it soundlessly.
He dropped to the ground, then lifted Grace from the ledge, as she attempted to follow him. She was shaking, but stayed silent. Silent was good. It could have been their ticket out of there, if it weren't for the smell of her heat.
The soft scent of mating arousal was unmistakable. There was no way to hide it. That meant their asses were in a sling, if Jonas didn't get here fast.
Matthias made certain they were downwind of the coyote soldiers, who had attempted to come in downwind themselves. But the winds in the mountains were capricious. At some point they had shifted, betraying the coyotes' advance while hiding his escape with Grace, for the time being.
He didn't dare use the vehicle they had driven up in. The sound of a motor would betray them instantly. That left their feet. He only prayed he could get her far enough away to ensure a fighting chance at saving his mate's life.
What the hell had made him think he could have this time with her? That he could possibly steal just a few days of peace?
Somehow, he must have missed the signs that he was being watched. Only a coyote could have scented the mating heat building between him and Grace before he kidnapped her. But how had he missed a coyote trailing him?
Matthias kept Grace close to his side, as he moved from the house to the sheltering trees that ran along the rough track leading into the cabin. He kept to the far side, knowing the coyotes were moving up along the upper side.
The breeze drifted around him, bringing the smell of them to him and causing his lip to lift in a snarl of hatred. If he were alone, he would have gone hunting. He would have killed every fucking mongrel that thought he could blindside Matthias this way.
But he wasn't alone. At his side, his mate was struggling to keep up with him, trying not to breathe too hard, to stay as quiet as possible.
As a twig crunched under her feet, he throttled a curse and wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he felt her tears against his shoulder. Tears he wished he could shed.
There was no time for tears now. He had to get her as far away from danger as possible. There were a few other cabins farther down the mountain; there had been vehicles there as they drove in. If he could steal one and get a head start…
That wasn't going to happen.
He caught the scent of the coyotes' change of direction and knew he was fucked. Somehow, they had figured out that he and Grace had left the cabin, and now they were on his ass.
"Leave me," she whispered in his ear, as he found a faint animal path and began to move faster along it. "You can get away on your own."
"It's you they want, Grace."
She shuddered at his words and pressed her face tighter into his shoulder.
"It doesn't matter." Her voice trembled at the words. "I know how to hide. You can get away and go for help."
He would have howled then, if he could have. She honestly thought he would allow her to sacrifice herself? For him?
"You're wasting your time," he growled. "I won't leave you."
Even in death, he would follow by her side. But he didn't intend to die. If ever there had been a time when he intended to live, then it was now.
"Four. I have you."
Matthias slid to a stop at the sound of the number he had been known by in the labs. Not a name, by all means they shouldn't believe they had the rights that even pets had. No, they were known by numbers. He had been the fourth Breed created in the Albrecht lab in the German mountains.
Matthias stared at the six coyote soldiers that stepped from the surrounding trees. Behind them stood Vidal Velasco, the Spanish directorate of genetic protocols.
It was this bastard who had chosen the women who were kidnapped for the European labs and used for their ovum and life-giving wombs. It was he who had decided which woman would be released and which woman would be bred to death. It was this bastard who had slit the throat of the surrogate that had birthed Matthias.
Matthias had been five when Vidal had gathered three of the Breed children in that lab together, called this woman their mother, then slid his blade over the weakened female's throat. Even then Matthias had recognized the thankfulness in the woman's eyes at her realization that the horrors she had been suffering were over.
"I hear you have chosen a name for yourself, Four," Vidal's mocking, aquiline features were illuminated by the glow of the full moon, as it peeked from the clouds above.
Vidal was much older now, nearing his seventies, Matthias knew, but he moved like a much younger man, his black eyes glowing in the night, his short gray hair gleaming.
Even now, he wore a dark gray suit. His black shirt was dull against his swarthy flesh, his gray tie cinched snug at his neck. Matthias bet he was wearing the overly expensive leather shoes he was partial to, as well.
Vidal was nothing if not precise and neat in appearance and action. Even when he was killing.
Matthias lowered Grace to her feet, keeping his arm wrapped snugly around her, as he checked the position of each coyote. He held his rifle in one arm, his finger on the responsive trigger, as the coyotes began to spread out behind him.
"You picked the wrong night, Vidal," Matthias growled. "I'm not in the mood for you."
Inside, he was praying. He needed the coyotes closer together, not farther apart. He needed just one chance to catch them in a spray of bullets and to keep them from shooting Grace.
If he died, he would die knowing he left his mate to these monsters. He couldn't allow that to happen. Grace must survive.
"Is she breeding yet, Four?" Vidal asked him in his precise, flawless English. "I hear wolves are having a difficult time transitioning from animal to man when they take their mates. Have you managed that yet?"
Matthias watched Vidal carefully. He stood just behind two of the protective coyotes whose weapons were aimed, not at Matthias, but at Grace.
"When the shooting starts, I'm taking you out first, Vidal," Matthias said. "My bullets will tear right through your coyote pets and enter your chest. I won't miss."
Vidal frowned. "Now, Four, we don't have to be antisocial about this," he chastised Matthias. "Just give us your pretty girlfriend, and we'll let you run for a while longer."
Matthias lifted his lip in a mocking snarl. "I think you know that's not going to happen. I'm well aware of the experiments the council scientists are running. I'd kill her before I'd let you get your hands on her."
Vidal crossed his arms over his chest, as Matthias tracked each soldier with his eyes and with his senses. He would have one chance to get Grace out of this alive. If the coyotes continued to surround him, he would have just enough room to drop and roll Grace to the small, rocky crevice next to them. It would provide the barest cover, but perhaps enough for him to cover her body with his own, as he tried to take the coyotes out.
"I can't believe you allowed yourself to be caught so easily." Vidal's teeth flashed in the darkness. "You had a coyote on your ass the whole time you were courting Miss Anderson and never realized it. Have you grown soft, Four?"
Matthias shook his head. He had wondered about that.
"There was no coyote tracking me. You got lucky, nothing more. Seems fate shines on the diseased and soulless at odd times after all."
The scent of Vidal's anger began to pour around him. It made the coyotes nervous, as well it should. Vidal never could handle a Breed who dared talk back. It was one of his failings.
"Why did the directorate decide to send you on this little mission anyway?" Matthias shifted closer to the shadowed natural indention in the earth, as he watched Vidal. "Did they decide they didn't like you after all?"