Trails had been laid leading from New Mexico. There had been sightings in Venezuela, but neither Council nor Breed forces had ever gotten close enough to actually have a chance of capturing them.
Nine years of covering trails, manipulating truths and laying in lies— If he wasn’t careful, Jonas would unravel it all before he could ensure Gypsy’s safety.
He needed to assure Jonas of the ridiculousness of even imagining that Gypsy was involved with a group as well hidden and undetectable as the Unknown, if they existed.
Jonas had to be convinced he was wrong about this—wrong, or Rule had to uncover the fact that the other Breed was up to one of his fucking matchmaking games.
“You’re certain about this list?” Rule finally looked up, finding no clear reason or even strong suspicion in the files for Gypsy to have been tagged as the suspected “Whisper” spy.
Jonas had no proof that Gypsy was involved in anything. And if Jonas didn’t have proof, then there was no proof to be found. That was all that kept Rule from immediately having Gypsy taken and hidden so deep, so fast that finding her would require more resources than Jonas could pull together at the moment.
The Bureau couldn’t use what they couldn’t prove, or at least insinuate very well, Jonas always claimed. Rule would make certain Jonas had no chance to “use” Gypsy.
“Why? Aren’t you?” Jonas closed the computer down and leaned back in his chair again, absently gripping a pen between his hands and idly manipulating it between his fingers as he watched Rule.
Rule ignored the distracting tactic even as he hid a knowing smile.
“Gypsy doesn’t fit the profile such a contact would have,” he explained patiently. “She’s too friendly, and too interested in being a woman to worry about being a spy.”
Fuck.
Jonas wasn’t buying that one despite the fact that Rule knew it was a damned good argument.
“Rule.” Jonas leaned forward in his chair, laid the pen on the desk and clasped his hands on top of it. “Even after her brother’s death and her belief that she caused it by slipping out to that party, Gypsy still attended every party she could make. She was there when the Coyote soldier that led that group after Honor, Fawn and Judd met with one of his spies in the area. She was part of the group that soldier partied with that night despite her tender age. The next day, that spy was found just outside town, his tongue cut out and his throat slashed, with a note to the Council pinned to his shirt, stating, resigning for reasons of permanent death and dismemberment.
“Gypsy socializes with a high number of suspected Genetics Council members who live in the area, their contacts and employees. She’s friends with purists, rogue Breeds and tribal law enforcement members. She has all the contacts needed to do the job.”
Rule had to give whoever had penned that contact’s resignation kudos for being efficient as well as amusing. He was actually rather impressed with the wording of it.
That didn’t mean he didn’t have an argument ready for Jonas.
“The list of young women who attended the party that night and are still attending such parties is a large one. There are several candidates I would have looked at first,” Rule pointed out before allowing suspicion to narrow his eyes, hoping distraction would work where debate wasn’t. “Who created this list anyway?”
Jonas acknowledged his point, as well as his suspicion, with a mocking tilt of his head. Rule knew Jonas would be well aware of why he suspected a setup. There were far too many Breeds who called Jonas the Mate Matcher.
He schemed, connived and manipulated Breeds until he had them aligned perfectly with their mates. Then he made damned certain those Breeds couldn’t and wouldn’t attempt to walk away.
“I had independent sources from within the Bureau as well as connected to the Navajo Council compile that list, from over a dozen suspects. Individually, then as a group, they weeded out each suspect and cleared them of suspicion, with the exception of six. Of those six, Gypsy was the only one they were unable to clear.
Rule turned his attention back to the file.
Rule knew the group Jonas had assigned that task to. Liza Johnson, daughter of the Navajo president’s head of security, and her mate, Stygian Black. Isabelle Martinez, niece to the president and daughter of the nation’s legal council. Malachi Morgan, Isabelle’s Coyote Breed mate. Terran Martinez, Isabelle’s father and said legal council. Dane Vanderale, Jonas’s half brother and a hybrid Breed so well disguised by his far-too-influential father to ever be suspected of being a Breed. And one of the Coyote Breeds’ most dangerous members, Dog.
Both Isabelle’s and Liza’s mated status to Breeds and their history in the area made them the perfect choices to compile the final list, as did their mates and Isabelle’s father, Terran. Still, it smacked of a manipulation.
And it stank of danger running headlong in Gypsy’s direction.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rule pretended to continue to read while he cursed inwardly at whatever trick or sleight of hand had been used to put Gypsy on that list. Whichever it was, it ended with Gypsy smack under the director’s regard.
The last place Rule wanted her to be.
For both their sakes.
“You’ve been in her company more than once, so I’ll assume there’s no chance of a mating?” Jonas all but sneered.
“Lucky for you,” Rule agreed, never taking his attention from the file.
Rule flat refused any missions Jonas had a hand in that involved a woman. Luckily for Jonas, Rule had actually spent quite a bit of time in Gypsy’s company in the past couple of months since coming to Window Rock, and had been around her many times in the past years as he checked up on her.
“You know, you take that district directorship position out here, and Dane and Seth will cut that clause that gives you permission to run away should you suspect a mate, right out of that contract.”
Rule didn’t look up once and was quite proud of the fact that he hid his smirk. “The one concerning you and any assignment regarding a female, Breed or human, will stay. I’ve already discussed the particulars with them.”
Jonas growled, an irritated sound. “That’s ridiculous.”
Rule lifted his gaze slowly. “So says the Breed they call the Mate Matcher.”
Jonas glared back at him, his silver gaze swirling with ire. Rule opted to distract the director at that point rather than continue what was sure to turn into a less than friendly debate.
“Jonas, why are you so convinced the Unknown actually exist?” Rule asked before Jonas could deny the charge. Or worse, admit to it. “I’ve been searching for weeks now, and there’s not so much as a hint of the Unknown being anything but a fairy tale, let alone finding any ties to any of your suspects. Tell me what the fuck is going on here or find someone else to play games with because I don’t have time for this shit.”
“Orrin Martinez,” Jonas finally answered, his jaw tightening at Rule’s demand. “When I mentioned the Unknown to him, the scent of fear was unmistakable. As was the scent of desperation as he attempted to convince me that the Unknown were just as you said, a fairy tale. They exist, Rule, I promise you. And they were the same group that hid Judd, Honor and Claire, and countless other Breeds that made it to the Navajo Nation over the decades.”
Rule rubbed at the back of his neck, considering the information. “Are we sure we can trust that response, though?”
Orrin should have been Jonas’s grandfather rather than Rule’s and Lawe’s. The man was just as manipulating and just as calculating as Jonas could be.