Admittedly, she hadn't allowed herself to be in this position before though. In the ten years she had been running, since she was a young, tender, fourteen, never had she allowed herself to be surrounded by Breeds.
Now here she was, no weapons, no way out, and she was surrounded.
"I want the data chip."
She flinched at the sound of Wyatt's voice. It was razor sharp, cutting, and merciless.
"People in hell want ice water too," she sneered back at him. "You're going to get about as lucky as they are in your wants."
"You don't want to fuck with me over this, Ms. Montague." The latent violence in his tone had the hairs at the back of her neck rising.
"I'll tell you what I've told you for the past ten years, I don't have your data chip."
Two factions chased her. The Bureau Breeds and the Council Breeds, and to look at them, it was impossible to tell which was which.
Jonas contacted her often through the old email account of her father's that she checked regularly. It was always the same. When she was ready to give him what he wanted, then he could protect her.
Her answer was always the same. She didn't have what he wanted.
It seemed he was tired of playing nice.
"Ms. Montague, the time for lies is over." The growl in his voice was frankly terrifying.
As he stepped toward her, Styx moved as well. His action surprised her. It appeared as if he was placing himself in line to protect her against what might well be the most powerful Breed in the world at the moment.
Jonas's gaze flashed to the Wolf Breed. "She's not yours," he bit out, his tone icy.
"Doesn't matter," Styx growled back. "I pulled her in, I'm responsible for her."
A mocking smile curled her lips. He had fooled her once; she wouldn't allow him to fool her again. No doubt this fake protection was no more than another game to draw her in.
Jonas glanced back at her. "She doesn't appear to want your protection, Styx."
Storme sat up straighter. "By all means, Styx, protect me." Mocking and sweet, Storme kept her tone even, hoping to hide the fear rising inside her.
His gaze flashed back to her, irate and glittering with a warning.
"She knows what she has, Styx," Jonas growled back as he stared back at Storme. "She knows, and she's holding on to it for a reason."
Because she had sworn she would hold on to it. Because it was the only thing her father had ever asked her to do. To protect that information.
"I'm not holding anything ..."
"Breeds can smell a fucking lie," Jonas snarled back. "And you, Ms. Montague, are lying. Tell me what the fuck you want for it and we can conclude this piece of business before the night is over."
She had always known she couldn't lie to their faces. She was too aware of what she was holding, too aware of the fact that their sense of smell would betray her.
There was no doubt Jonas Wyatt was enraged at this moment as well. It was there in every controlled inch of his body, in the glitter of his silver eyes.
"Storme, this has gone beyond whatever you believe you're protecting that information for," Styx stated quietly. "We can protect you, but we have to have the data chip."
"So you fucked me for it?" she sneered with a harsh laugh. "Tell me, Styx, are you one of those Breeds that were trained to be gigolos for the Council?"
His gaze narrowed, and for just a second she could have sworn she saw a flash of confusion mix with the anger that ignited in his gaze.
"Are you one of those humans that believes we're nothing but animals that don't deserve to live?" Jonas accused her, the rabid fury in his voice at odds with the cool control she knew he was famous for.
She didn't flinch, she didn't cower back in her chair, but God she wanted to. She did flinch though as Styx jumped between her and Jonas, a fierce Wolf's snarl vibrating from his throat.
"Back off, Jonas!"
Navarro moved slowly into position to jump between the two Breeds if necessary.
The other Breeds moved behind Jonas, as though flanking him, protecting him.
"I want that chip, Styx," Jonas snapped. "The implications of this have gone beyond one woman's life. Don't doubt for a second I won't do whatever it takes to force what I want from her."
"Jonas, enough."
All eyes turned to the woman who had stepped into the room.
Rachel Broen. "Hell, all we need now are the Breed alphas and a few Council members to complete this little meeting," Storme stated, forcing the mockery in her voice as Rachel stepped forward.
Jonas's assistant and new wife looked concerned as she moved to her husband's side. What Storme saw then had her chest clenching in some emotion she didn't understand.
Jealousy perhaps? Envy? Storme knew whatever it was had regret flaying her and a hunger rising inside her that she couldn't control. An emotional, overriding hunger she didn't understand and refused to look too deeply into.
For a second, the icy fury in Jonas's eyes was replaced by worry, pain, and a split second of agony that was gone just as quickly as it had come.
His wife walked to him slowly, her gaze focusing on Storme, her navy blue eyes heavy with concern.
"You shouldn't be here, Rachel," he grated, though his hand settled at the small of her back with the utmost gentleness as she neared him.
Rachel Broen was human. There had been several articles in major newspapers about the marriage of the Bureau director and his assistant. The woman had a child if Storme remembered correctly, an infant. There were rumors in the underground anti-Breed networks that Phillip Brandenmore, a silent partner with the Council, had found a way to use this woman's child to get something he wanted.
What Brandenmore had wanted no one seemed to know, but Storme knew what Brandenmore had been doing. He had been trying to replicate a project from the Omega labs and had actually believed the girl would want to see her father's work resurrected.
"It seems that perhaps I should have been here earlier," Rachel said softly. "What are you doing, Jonas, trying to terrify this young woman and fight with one of your best Enforcers?"
There was an edge of chastisement in his wife's voice now, one that had Jonas staring back at Storme with a promise of retaliation.
Yeah, retaliation. She could see who wore the pants in this family, and it sure as hell wasn't Jonas Wyatt. Though the thought was mocking, Storme was still fascinated with it. Rachel wasn't more dominant; it was more that Jonas seemed to be that attuned to his wife, perhaps that much in love?
Could a Breed love? Didn't one have to have a soul to love?
"Ms. Montague." Rachel stepped around her husband, then the hulking form of Styx. "I'm afraid you're going to have to come to Sanctuary ..."
"Haven." Styx moved between them again as Jonas stepped closer to his wife.
"Sanctuary would be better, Styx," Jonas stated harshly. "We can sneak her easily into the underground cells ..."
"The hell you will. She goes to Haven," Styx stated again. "She goes with me."
"She's not yours, Styx," Jonas stated again.
At this point, enough was enough. "I'm not a bone between an oversized cat and dog," she informed them all bitterly. "Why don't I just settle this little argument myself? I'll just be going on my merry way if you all don't mind."
She rose from the chair, until Styx turned so suddenly she came to a hard stop. Hands braced on the arms of the chair to hold herself up, she stared up at him in surprise.
His expression wasn't furious, but rather so dominant and intense she sat back down in her chair slowly. A primal sense of self-preservation seemed to kick in. It wasn't the same warning sense that kicked in when she knew she was dealing with a dangerous animal. It was different.
"Maybe I'll just wait a minute," she stated calmly.