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Phillip Brandenmore, on the other hand, simply seemed satisfied. For some reason, he appeared to think he had won. And if his expression was anything to go by, he believed he was being benevolent in his victory.

"Have a seat, Jonas." Brandenmore gestured to the leather sofa across from Devon's chair and parallel to the couch Brandenmore was seated on.

Sitting in the corner, the other man stretched his arm along the armrest before lifting his drink, which had been resting against his knee. He sipped at the golden liquor slowly as he watched Jonas with the careful regard men used when a wild animal crossed their paths.

"Director Wyatt." Brandenmore extended his hand to the sofa. "Thank you for joining us. Can I get you a drink?"

Rachel was almost amused at Brandenmore's cordial tone.

"No thank you." Precise, unaccented, Jonas's tone was like ice. "Shall we get to the point instead?"

Brandenmore sighed heavily. "You moved up my schedule a bit, I must say. I had intended on waiting a few weeks to allow my spy within Sanctuary to be able to gather the information I needed."

Rachel hid her surprise. She knew the tireless search that had been waged for any remaining spies, only to come up empty-handed.

"You mean the bugs you had programmed into our computers?" Jonas's words shocked her even more. She hadn't pieced that together yet.

She knew the virus hadn't made sense. Sherra was diligent about the computers, as were the lionesses who operated them and the rest of their computer security staff, especially after discovering that information had been stolen via a new program that had hidden secrets in innocuous emails.

"Yes." Brandenmore smiled as Devon shot him an irritated look. "The bugs. They were rather ingenious, I must say. I was within days of cashing in on the information they had been gathering when you so obviously found them."

"They were programmed to wipe their tracks and self-destruct." Jonas had already guessed that one.

"You owe me for that one, Phillip," Devon bit out mulishly. "That program was rather expensive."

"I owe your father," Brandenmore shot back in irritation.

There was a tension between the two men, an anger that wasn't entirely understandable, Rachel thought. Then again, she couldn't bring herself to understand what they were doing together in the first place.

"Where's my kid?" Devon turned and caught Rachel's look. His brows lowered ominously. "I told you to abort the little bastard, but you had to make my life hell, didn't you?"

"I've decided to make it my life's goal," she agreed pleasantly as hatred rolled through her. "I so enjoy knowing you're here to make my life hell."

"Smart-mouthed bitch." His lips twisted in a sneer.

Jonas growled. The sound was low, throbbing with power and danger. Enough so that Devon flinched.

"The boy never learned good manners. Although his father often tried to instill them, his mother just undid all the good his father tried to accomplish." Brandenmore gave Devon another disgusted look as he finished the explanation.

"I want the kid." Devon ignored his elder's silencing look.

"Amber is my child," Rachel informed him calmly. She wanted to reach out and rake her nails down his eyes. She wanted to rip out his tongue.

"Enough bullshit. Let's get to the point here," Jonas snapped out, his hand clamping loosely on Rachel's arm as he upheld the appearance she knew he wanted to give: that she was no more than a woman he was now tied to through a biological mating.

Rachel hoped they weren't paying attention to the small, imperceptible strokes of Jonas's fingers against her wrist, or how he kept her close to his own body; otherwise, he had given them both away.

Not that Rachel couldn't hide the fact that she was leaning on his strength. The longer they sat there, the more that gut-deep feeling of dread was beginning to build in her.

"The point is, I want the child." Brandenmore set his glass on the table in front of him before leaning back to watch them with a cold, assessing gaze. "Lions don't enjoy having the young of other males around them," he continued. "I'll do you a favor and solve a small problem I have in the process."

"No!" Rachel couldn't hold back the instinctive denial. Her body clenched, tightened to the point that the warning grip of Jonas's fingers on her arm was barely felt.

"And what problem do you have, Brandenmore, that an infant can solve for you?" Jonas queried, his tone so icy cold that Rachel nearly shivered and almost believed that he was actually considering the proposal.

"Her mother is a Breed mate." He nodded his head in Rachel's direction. "If my preliminary tests are correct, then that would make her child compatible to Breed physiology as well. I'd like to conduct some simple, rather painless tests over the course of her primary years into adulthood. She would be well cared for." He leaned forward, his expression sincere. "She would have a good life and provide an invaluable service as well."

"And that service would be?"

She knew Jonas. Knew his moods, his expressions, the progression of ice in his voice, and she knew that in this moment, the animal inside him was as close to breaking free as she had ever sensed it.

"The Breed mating-age phenomenon." Excitement colored his voice, narrowed his eyes and lent a glow of fanaticism to his expression. "Neither Breeds nor their mates age once mating occurs. We know that now. I want to know why. I could duplicate it, create a serum. All I need is a viable, healthy child whose biology is compatible."

"And how do you know this child is the one you need?" Jonas asked.

"I took blood and urine samples while I had her," he gloated. "I had her for hours--enough time to collect what I needed for the proper tests. Rachel and Devon's child is compatible. Devon's parents have advanced millions of dollars to the project, and my friends in the Middle East have provided the perfect lab to work in."

"You would need a Breed to test her with. How did you achieve that?" Jonas was full of questions.

Rachel had to fight back her horror, her tears, as she stared at Devon's mutinous expression. He and his parents had sold his child to a monster. For what? For an anti-aging serum that might or might not work?

She couldn't hide the fact that she was shaking from the inside out now, nor could she hide the complete fury beginning to engulf her.

"It was fairly easy to achieve." Brandenmore shrugged then. "We have so many Breed blood, urine and semen samples that have been preserved both by myself as well as the Genetics Council. Testing her against them wasn't that difficult."

"She would have only matched to a specific Breed," Jonas pointed out. "Her mate."

Did Amber have a mate? How could that be possible? She was only a baby.

"Mating tests are unreliable until adulthood, Brandenmore," Jonas continued. "We've proven that."

"A mating test, true." He nodded. "But not a compatibility test, which is what I have created."

He was so filled with self-importance now, so triumphant as he stared at Jonas, certain he would agree to give Amber up.

"Jonas, make him stop with this," she whispered, desperate now to erase the horror of what Brandenmore was suggesting.

Brandenmore shot her a pitying look as Devon glared at her in disgust.

"Shut the fuck up, Rachel," Devon snapped. "She's my kid too. You can have more brats with your lover here. Let me have Amber."

"So you can kill her?" she yelled, staring at him, wondering why she hadn't seen the evil that had infected him while they'd lived together.

"No one's going to kill her. She would be useless dead." Devon laughed in ridicule. "Get a grip. You always overdramatized things to the point of ridiculousness."

"Enough." Jonas's voice was low, a throbbing sound of power that immediately silenced Devon.