A recent attack on Liza had revealed the partial memories that now allowed Jonas to piece together some of the missing clues they needed to crack the code that hid the information on the serum Amber had been injected with.
Just some of the pieces. Still, the formula and various notes of the years that the serum had been used on Honor and Fawn had yet to be decoded.
Claire Martinez, the young woman who inhabited Fawn Corrigan’s body, had accepted the fact that she wasn’t who she believed she was. Accepting and awakening were two different things, though. And the secrets the girl was hiding were beginning to bother him. How the hell was he supposed to stand aside and let her continue to search for a way to honorably kill herself?
Son of a bitch, why couldn’t he just fucking walk away from everyone else’s problems and just focus on his own. On his daughter. On his mate.
Because it was all tied together, he admitted.
Woven so closely together that to abandon one would be to abandon the child his heart had taken as his own. And that meant doing what he could to bring Fawn Corrigan, or Claire Martinez as she was now called, along a path that would bring her face-to-face with the Breed sworn to kill her.
Claire had revealed nightmares and some scattered pieces of memories from Fawn’s years in the labs as well. But there were still so many missing pieces and so little time.
Before he could draw the Bengal Judd and the feral Bengal Gideon out, the girls would have to reach inside themselves and find the spirits that slept within them. Liza and Claire would have to accept that the reprieve they had been given from death was at an end, and the parts of Honor and Fawn that still slept would have to accept that it was once again time to face their lives and truly awake.
This had to be finished.
Moving from Amber’s bedroom into the main room of the hotel suite, Jonas strode to the desk that sat at the far wall and took his seat. Activating the holo-board of his computer, he laid his palm against the biometric scanner on the top of the desk and waited for the screen to appear.
When the holographic panel came up, he pulled up several files as he checked the time.
He had five minutes before the meeting he’d called with the newly promoted Investigative Commander, Rule Breaker.
The investigative field of the Bureau of Breed Affairs was growing quickly, requiring Jonas to put his best enforcers into key positions now available.
And into the investigations of crimes against Breeds and Breed Law.
Though soon, Jonas suspected, Rule would be heading the new offices in New Mexico as division director rather than continuing on to another assignment after completing this one.
That knowledge had reminded him of a silent promise he’d made to himself nine years ago as he flew away from the area, and to the broken child who had been left to the care of her family. A family tragically wounded by the death of the young man they had all treasured.
Arranging Rule’s life was something Jonas had sworn to Rule he wouldn’t do.
Hell, he’d even crossed his fingers, just in case, as he’d made that promise.
Maneuvering Seth Lawrence and Dane Vanderale, two of the Breeds’ greatest benefactors, into doing his dirty work for him had required a bit more finesse. If they had even had a distant thought or suspicion regarding his actions, they would have created a Breed Town Crier just to announce it to every Breed far and wide.
Especially Rule.
Narcs.
That was what they were.
The old-fashioned term flashed into his mind.
They were nothing but damned narcs, both of them. If they weren’t extremely careful, he’d show them exactly why they should be very wary. Because Jonas knew things of their futures that neither man could ever imagine.
So far, he was playing nice.
But the day was swiftly approaching for one of them that nice would be a thing of a past.
It was just a matter of time before he learned how to cure his daughter. He could then focus on restructuring the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Once that was completed, Jonas, Callan and Wolfe could rest assured that their vision of the Breeds’ future could continue should anything happen to one, or all, of them.
Then Jonas intended to show his legitimate half brother, Dane Vanderale, exactly why Breeds and humans alike feared him to the extent they did.
He was just completing the final additions to each file that he’d put together when the door to the suite opened and the Lion Breed on duty, Flint McCain, stepped inside.
“Commander Breaker’s here, sir,” he announced.
Jonas nodded back at him firmly. “Let him in.”
Stepping aside, Flint nodded to Rule as he strode into the suite, his neon blue eyes flickering with amusement at Flint as the other Breed lifted his lip into a subtle snarl.
Rule had put his time in guarding many of Jonas’s doors over the past ten years. Jonas didn’t begrudge him a second to torment Flint now.
“Jonas.” Rule stepped to the desk, the years they had worked together pretty much obliterating protocol at this point. “How’s Amber doing this morning?”
It was no secret she’d been deteriorating rapidly in the weeks since the attack on Liza. For some reason the unknown hormone Brandenmore had injected her with had suddenly increased overnight within her little body, after leveling for several weeks.
They’d had hope for a while, that she was fighting off the effects, only to watch her descend again into that world of pain and confusion.
“She’s resting this afternoon,” he answered. “Have a seat, Rule, I have something to talk to you about.”
Rule sat down in one of the comfortable chairs facing the desk, his back straight, feet planted firmly on the floor. Dressed in the Bureau’s black mission uniform—the insignia of his Breed placement, a snarling lion, on one shoulder, his commander’s bars gracing the other—he looked like the expertly honed killing machine he was created to be.
Shoulder-length black hair was pulled back and secured at his nape; neon blue eyes surrounded by heavy black lashes and fierce, sharply defined features made him popular among the female sex, while the corded strength of his body and exacting control made him an excellent commander among his peers.
Pressing the command button to send the files to Rule’s e-pad before deactivating the computer and sitting back in his chair, Jonas watched the Breed silently for long moments.
Rule didn’t even look at the electronic pad he carried on a holster at his thigh. He just waited, perhaps not patiently, but silently.
“Have you been able to find any information on the Unknown yet?” he asked Rule then, watching intently as the Breed gave a negative shake of his head.
“Nothing more than the fairy tale,” he finally answered. “Each generation, six warriors are chosen to protect the heart of the Navajo. No one knows what the heart is, though. They’re gifted with ancient powers and secrets that will aid them in hiding and protecting what’s most important to the People. That’s it. What about your contacts? Have they come back with anything yet?”
Jonas shook his head.
“Any suspects yet as to their contact?” Jonas asked, tapping one finger against the arm of his chair as he watched Rule thoughtfully.
Rule shook his head again. “Nothing yet. And we won’t have, until someone actually admits to believing they’re real.” He frowned then. “It would have been nice if the message you received about them had been a bit more forthcoming.”
A grimace tightened Jonas’s features. “A name would have been really nice,” he agreed before leaning forward and bracing his arms on the desk once again. “I just sent the files you’ll need for your upcoming mission to your e-pad.” Jonas nodded to the device, though Rule made no move to remove it. “Several hours after the assailants busted into the windows of Liza’s suite last month, she experienced a flashback to the ritual that hid an additional presence within her own body. In that flashback, she saw six painted warriors—the Unknown, she remembered Orrin Martinez calling them. They told her they would protect her and Claire, as well as the one who watched from afar and the one who would follow when the time was right.”