CHAPTER 1

SOUTHERN NEW MEXICO, 2023

Evanescence was blaring from the speakers of the four-wheel drive Range Raider, the new wave of law enforcement vehicles specially built for the rugged desert terrain. The gentle rock of the vehicle, attributed to the separate suspension on each tire, allowed it to traverse the terrain easily and was also a soothing comfort when added to the pulse-pounding music flowing through the interior.

The music was old, but it fit her mood. Dark, filled with energy and a quest for life. But beneath the beat, Megan Fields could feel threads of emotion weaving around her, pricking at her mind. Others’ emotions, someone else’s pain. The empathic talents she possessed were her curse; the desert was usually her salvation. Until now. Now the two had somehow managed to collide.

Desert patrol was never fun, and only on the odd occasions did it become dangerous. She knew that. It was the perfect area for the criminal element. Easily crossed and nearly impossible for law enforcement to adequately patrol, it was the perfect habitat for the two-legged variety of scavengers that preyed on innocent human beings.

Megan Fields ignored the music blaring around her as she adjusted the dark glasses that protected her eyes from the blazing sun and surveyed the land around her. Stark, with a blend of russets, golden-hued browns and darker tans with intermittent splashes of green, the land seemed empty, broken, forgotten.

Sometimes she wondered if she was the only one who could see the beauty in the land that surrounded her. The caverns hidden in shadowed buttes, the small, well-hidden areas of grassy splendor. It was a wonderland, secreted away amid the brush and bramble that first caught the eye.

And if she wasn’t mistaken, she just might have company in her desert wonderland. She could feel the snaking sensations of disturbance tightening her skull, sending tension racing through her body.

She braked at the edge of a deep gully, her eyes narrowed at the tire tracks that led into it. They were fairly recent, cutting deep into the sandy soil, like a wound carelessly inflicted. A chill raced over her flesh at the sight of it, cutting through the peace that had previously filled her.

She turned her gaze to the report log scrolling across the small screen to the right of the steering wheel. There was a report of a missing hiker from Carlsbad, various APBs and stolen vehicles.

She scratched at the top of her nose thoughtfully before muting the music and flipping down the microphone that was attached to the transistor at her ear.

She couldn’t ignore it. Adrenaline pulsed through her, heightening the already sensitive receptors in her brain. Something was in the gully. Something she could battle, could face without the presence of others. A chance to still the restless, driving energy that rarely had an outlet.

“Control, I’m at Gully B-4. There are signs of recent passage heading into it. Do you have a mark on any vehicles in or out?”

“Negative, Fields,” Lenny Blanchard, satellite stats officer and general gopher answered with a lazy drawl. “We have no tracked movement in or out for the past month. GPS shows your vehicle only.”

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her lips in a thoughtful pout as she stared at the tracks.

It wasn’t unusual for owners to disengage their GPS unless they wanted to use it, though it was heavily frowned upon and in certain areas could result in high fines. This was one of those areas.

Danger almost shimmered in the waves of heat that drifted over the vehicle.

Making up her mind quickly, she exited the Raider, moving to the front of it and bending down to inspect the tire tracks more closely. They cut deep into the ground, the off-road tires leaving a distinctive mark as they made their way down the steep slope into the narrow valley below.

She reached out, her fingers brushing over the tracks as she tried to focus on the impressions coming from them. Fear. Determination. She could feel the emotions from inside the vehicle on the impressions in the loose sand and dirt.

Staring at the area, she moved farther to the right, her fingers running over the edge of another print. Mountain boots. Someone had followed the vehicle in on foot. And they weren’t there for the scenery either.

She rubbed at her chin, frowning as she tried to remember the lessons her grandfather had given her in tracking as a young girl. The tracks were at the least twenty-four hours old, no more than forty-eight. The mountain boots were more recent, within the past eight to ten hours.

She tilted her head then, her eyes narrowing at the lack of emotion or sensation that came from touching the tracks. They were calm, centered. As though whoever made them had known no fear, no anger, no emotion as they made their way into the gully.

“Control, I’m heading in to investigate,” she announced as she rose and moved back to her vehicle. “There’s evidence of someone following on foot. It could be our missing hiker from Area Two.”

“That’s miles away, Fields,” Lenny pointed out. “A good two-day hike.”

“Yeah, but who the hell knows with some of these greenhorns.” She sighed as she closed the door and attached her seat belt once again. “I’ll check it out before heading home. Fields, out.”

She engaged the vehicle’s rough-terrain drive with a flip of the switch before heading down the steep incline into the sluicing path made by the millions of flash floods that had traversed it over the centuries.

Maneuvering slowly, she kept her eyes narrowed for signs of the vehicle or the hiker. The wide gully split into several smaller tributaries, some leading to secret caves that flooded easily during the rainy season, others cutting a course in the land before slowly narrowing to dead ends.

This gully was deeper than most, the steep walls easily reaching ten to fifteen feet above the sandy base. Rock houses and deep craters had been cut into the walls, proof of the incredible force of the water that had gouged a path into the gully. Through the center of it, the tire tracks continued until they disappeared around a steep bend.

Megan watched the curve as she approached it slowly. She could feel a building sense of danger as she drew closer, of something not right. The sun seemed too bright, the heat radiating off the hood of the Raider too intense. All her senses suddenly kicked in and spiked in strength. Wariness filled her, as did the sense of impending doom.

Rounding the curve, she braked slowly, staring at the black SUV sitting silently beneath the golden rays of the sun.

Damn. This wasn’t exactly what she had expected.

The vehicle, while not as desert-friendly as her own, was definitely built for off-road maneuvering. The heavy, terrain-cutting tires were made to aid in pulling the vehicle from muddy or sandy ground. At least, when they weren’t flat, as these tires were.

She looked across the gully walls, eyes narrowed against the sun as she enabled the Raider’s vehicle security. The hum and vibration of the tire protectors sliding into place, along with the energized bulletproof shielding, accompanied the rapid beat of her heart.

Death. She sensed it now.

“Fields, we show security engaged on your vehicle. Are you in trouble?” Lenny’s voice was suddenly alert.

“Negative, Control. Not yet, anyway,” she answered as she checked her field gun, sliding an extra clip of ammo into her vest as she disengaged her seat belt. “I found the vehicle. It appears abandoned, all tires flattened, windows shattered. I’m going in for a closer look.”

She breathed in deeply, fighting to block the remnants of horror that pulsed through the gully. Death. Her chest clenched, her lungs aching as she forced air into them, fighting past the pure grief that rolled over her.

I failed… She flinched at the sudden random emotion that drifted to her. It wasn’t her thought, nor her failure, but she felt it pierce her soul.

This was why she hid in the desert. Because of this curse, she wasn’t safe to work with, nor to work around. Because of what she felt now, she knew she could never do the work she had always dreamed of. The empathic abilities fractured her attention, drew her so deeply into the morass of emotions that flowed from others that her concentration and her control began to crumble.

She breathed in harshly, determined to push back the pain and rage of another’s emotions as she attempted to find the reason why it existed.

“Negative, Fields.” The voice of her cousin, Sheriff Lance Jacobs, came over the receiver. “Get out of that gully and await reinforcements. All copters are out of range and unable to assist. I’ll head out with Crawford now.”

Megan snorted. She could hear the demand in his voice.

“I’m not the meter maid, boss,” she drawled. “Regardless of your attempts to make me one. The tracks into the gully are at best twenty-four hours old. Whatever happened here is done and gone.”

She hoped.

She activated the display board on her windshield, watching for signs of life within the gully. She couldn’t trust her senses now; they were too flooded with the rage and pain that flowed from the vehicle in front of her. But she had a feeling she really wasn’t alone.

“Display shows the gully clear of life signs. I’m going to do an initial investigation while I wait on you.”

His curse was muffled, his frustration wasn’t. He knew the problems she had experienced during training at the Law Enforcement Academy, just as he knew that it was the reason she had returned home rather than taking one of the offers from the larger cities that had come her way.

“Proceed with extreme caution, Megan,” he warned her. “I don’t like the feel of this.”

Neither did she.

She stepped out of the vehicle, cocking her head at the silence of the gully. It was as though all life had deserted the area. Normally it would be filled with the whisper of birds’ wings, small wildlife and insects fighting for food and survival. This gully was one of the few areas that managed to retain moisture within the small caverns the water had carved from it. There should be life here.

There was only death.

A peculiar, horrifying stench filled the air as well. The smell of death wrapped around her, thick and filled with menace in the late afternoon stillness. She felt the tension thicken, and it wasn’t just her own.

“Lance, it stinks here.” She heard her own voice tremble as she stared at the SUV gleaming beneath the hot sun.

Her chest tightened as she glimpsed the presence of two bodies through the heavily tinted, mostly shattered glass.

“Goddamn, Megan. Get the hell out of there.” Lance hissed, his voice heavy with dread.

Chills raced over her scalp, her shoulders, tightening her muscles as she pushed back the sensations and fought to get a better grip on what was there.

Releasing the light field Wounder from the holster at her hip, she held it confidently, her senses rioting and sending adrenaline coursing through her as she walked to the vehicle.

Damn, she wished she had a real weapon, rather than the Wounder used for lighter duty such as patrol. It only slowed down a criminal rather than incapacitating him. Its greatest plus was its extended range. One of its drawbacks was the inability to predict its effect in any given situation.

“The vehicle is riddled with bullet holes. We have at least two dead,” she spoke into the microphone, relaying the information she found to the control center.

The windows of the SUV were punctured with bullets. The tires had been ripped apart by them; the cliffs rising from the gully were scoured with ammunition damage. The smell of death surrounded the area, the heat and carnage inside the vehicle twisted her gut as she surveyed the scene.

“Definitely two dead,” she reported as she stepped back. “God, Lance, their mothers couldn’t identify them.” The bullets had torn through their upper bodies, ripping away much of their facial features.

“Megan, get back to the Raider now!” Lance ordered, his voice edged with steel.

She could feel the hairs along her nape standing on end as her spine began to tingle. Turning slowly, her gaze narrowed on the high gully walls as adrenaline rushed through her system and her senses began to riot. Someone was watching her.

“Infrared showed no signs of life…” she mused out loud. Somehow, something had interfered with the system’s readings, because she knew someone, something, was out there.

She could feel the eyes watching her, malevolence following her.

Her finger tightened on the trigger of her weapon as she felt the danger intensify. Where? Where was it coming from? She could feel it watching her, tracking every move she made, yet the sensors in the vehicle showed no signs of life.

“I’m heading back,” she agreed. “Something’s messed up on the Raider, Lance. Check it out. It showed no life signs…”

Lance was cursing, screaming at Lenny to find the copters, to get his unit ready to roll. Backup. Yeah, she needed backup now.

Megan could feel the eyes trained on her. Even worse, she could feel the weapons.

She backed up, her eyes scanning the gully as her heart raced in her chest. Her mouth felt dry, her body tense with the need to turn and run.

She was halfway to the Range Raider when she felt the first shots being taken. She could actually feel the malicious energy pouring over her a second before she threw herself across the gully toward one of the small caverns that had been cut into the wall.

Violence exploded through the air. Bullets tore into the sandy ground, moving like lightning across the gully and taking chunks from the rock wall of the entrance of the cavern she had thrown herself into.

“Megan. Megan, report.” Lance was yelling in her ear as she plastered herself against the dubious safety of a small indentation the water had cut into the side of the wall, keeping her body well away from the entrance.

“At least two,” she snapped into the mic, keeping her eyes trained on the entrance and the sliver of outside she could see from her position. “How far away did you say the copters were?”

“I said they were too fucking far away.” Lance snarled furiously. “Dammit, Megan, we’re too far away from you.”

Yeah. She remembered now. Damn. That sucked.

Holding her weapon ready, she moved carefully to peer around the protection of the groove in the wall to get a sense of the movement outside the cavern. She ducked back just in time to save her head as the bullets ripped around her once again.

“Give me an idea of what’s going on. We’re heading out there but we’re at least an hour away.”

She could hear the force of his breath behind his words, proof that he was running from the control center and heading to his vehicle.

An hour.

Boy, she was so screwed.

“I’m holed up in a small cavern. I have at least one assailant in clear view of the entrance keeping me hemmed in. I can’t tell what’s going on outside though.” She swallowed tightly. “Lance, I’m not going to make it an hour.”

Chills raced over her flesh, a premonition of increasing danger as the air thickened around her, growing heavier, hotter. Time seemed to stand still, to creep by at a turtle’s pace. So much could happen in an hour.

Over the receiver, voices raged in the background, the sound of tires screaming as vehicles roared.

“Stay put!” She winced at the fury in Lance’s voice. “Keep your weapon aimed at the entrance and fucking stay the hell where you are.”

“Yeah, that was my intention,” she answered as she breathed in roughly. “What the hell is going on out here, Lance? Why stick around after the killing?”

It didn’t make sense. Whoever killed that couple should have been long gone, not waiting around to see who found the bodies.

And why hadn’t she sensed the killers? She should have felt them, even if the sensors hadn’t picked them up.

“Well, why don’t you just ask them, Miss Nosy?” Lance snarled through the mic. “Dammit, I told you to turn back. Didn’t I tell you to turn back?” Cousins. They were always saying “I told you so.”

“Yeah, well, you tell me to go to sit tight and look pretty, too. Since when did I start listening to you?” Sweat rolled down her back as the need to move tightened her muscles. Bullets tore through the entrance again as she flattened herself further against the wall and tried to become one with the stone. Dammit, all she needed was a little bit more room.

“Shit.” She wheezed. “Those were close. Hell, Lance, I really wish you would hurry.”

She screeched as bullets ripped through the entrance again, hitting lower to the ground, spraying sand at her feet as she tried to crawl up the wall to prevent the deadly projectiles from tearing into her feet.

“Your girl needs to be spanked, Lance.” The strange, arrogant voice coming through the receiver made her stiffen in shock as a tense silence suddenly filled the line.

Calm. Centered. There were no riotous emotions pouring over her as she heard the voice, no impressions of past pains or lost dreams. There was just an unbroken circle of peace.

She latched onto it. Felt it weaving around her, sensed the nearness of the voice despite the sardonic amusement within it.

“Where are you, Braden?” Lance sounded frantic as Megan dodged another volley of shots. Whoever was out there had obviously moved for a better angle into the shallow cavern. The bullets were coming closer to her, tearing chunks out of the wall and pelting more sharp projectiles of stone.

“Close enough.” The rough, growling tone of his voice sent shivers up her spine as she pushed herself closer to the stone at her back.

“If you’re close enough then take a shot, dammit.” She covered her face with her arm as more shots rang out, sending a rain of rocks exploding around her head.

Stooping, she leveled her weapon and fired twice into the gully toward the estimated position of her assailant before she threw herself to the other side of the wall and watched in horror as the wall where she had been standing took five hard bursts of gunfire.

Okay, that was about as close to death as she ever wanted to come.

“Politeness counts, baby.” The humor in his voice almost had her lips twitching in response as she moved farther into the cavern. “Say please.”

Shock washed through her system as a chuckle sounded through the earphone.

“Please?” she questioned furiously, her amusement quickly dissipating.

“There you go. See, that didn’t hurt a bit, did it?”

She screeched as hard arms suddenly surrounded her from out of the darkness and the voice blew a breath of air across her ear.

Her elbow slammed back into a hard-packed abdomen as she attempted to hook her foot around his ankle and throw him off balance. All she got in reward was a sudden tightening of his arms and the breath whooshing from her chest.

Adrenaline surged through her like fireworks out of control. He was holding her, restraining her. Shock, fear, and the overwhelming instinct to survive were all she knew at that moment.

For the first time in her life, the emotions of others, the frustrations, fears and angers of those around her weren’t flooding her brain. Only the need to survive.

“Settle down. The cavalry’s here. Or a version of it, anyway.” His soft laughter did nothing to still the rush of fear and the instinctive need to fight.

“Can you extract?” She was only distantly aware of Lance barking the question into the headset.

“Can and will, if she would stop fighting me like a little wildcat.” She was lifted off her feet as the dark male voice deepened. “You have a claim on her, Jacobs? I think I might like to keep her.”

Keep her? What the hell, was she a trophy now? She grunted as she tried to elbow him again, fought to throw him off balance.

“Get her the hell out of there. You want to risk the second, it’s your head. We’re on our way.”

“Let me go.” Satisfaction filled her when she finally managed to land a blow that caused him to tense, his hold weakening enough for her to tear away and turn on him.

Dark amber eyes stared back at her, the color intensifying in the shadowed expanse of the cavern.

Calm. It wrapped around her, soothing the ragged edge of her own nerves as it forced her to center herself.

“If you’re going to shoot, hurry up and do it.” A growl seemed to linger in his voice as white teeth flashed in a sun-darkened face. “Otherwise, we’re going to be hamburger meat if we don’t get to my Raider before they get to us.”

She could hear the voices outside the cavern now. Obviously more than one, and getting closer.

She lowered her gun, breathing harshly as control slowly returned.

“I don’t think I like you,” she snapped as he turned and began leading the way through a dark, nearly hidden crevice in the rock wall, the kind often formed when one of the tributaries of water cracked through the weaker portions of the caverns. It was barely wide enough to make their way through, deep and dark, stifling hot. Its confines wrapped the scent of man around her rather than death.

And oh boy, did he smell good. Dark and male, and like the land itself, hot and hard and rich with life. She liked that smell. Too damned much. Because suddenly it wasn’t the danger following them that filled her; rather, it was the scent of the man ahead of her and the sensual forks of sensation it sent careening through her body. He made her think of sex.

“Good. Conflict just makes life more interesting.”

He was insane. She loved it. She could feel her heartbeat racing with the danger, adrenaline heightening her senses, surging through her with a natural high that almost made her giddy.

They moved quickly and within minutes the slender threads of sunlight began lighting their way.

“We’re out,” Braden announced as they moved through the entrance and ran to his Raider parked just in front of it.

“We’re on our way,” Lance replied. “Get her out of there…”

“No!” She turned on the brawny, wild creature that jumped into the driver’s side of the Raider as she turned in the passenger’s seat.

For whatever reason she could no longer feel the rage, the need to kill, the terror and the fear that had echoed from the valley. With the arrival of this man, and the calm that seemed to reach out from him like a shield that blocked those jarring emotions, she was centered once again.

“I can do this.” She needed to fight. To prove to herself she could. “We can’t afford to let them get away. They killed, and they were waiting for me. We need to know why.”

He turned, his oddly colored eyes reflecting amused approval as a crooked grin tilted his hard, sensual lips.

“Let’s get them then…”

“Hell no,” Lance all but screamed then. “Damn you, Braden, get her the hell out of there.”

She continued to watch Braden as he looped a length of leather around his long, tawny-gold hair and tied it at his nape.

“Megan Fields.” She extended her hand as excitement poured through her.

“Braden Arness.” His grip was strong, firm. It sent a pulse of energy whipping through her arm, echoing along her body. But there were none of the riotous emotions coming from him that she felt from others. Emotions that normally left her drained, unable to think clearly. She felt the remnants of the earlier violence dissipating, the horror of a death not her own easing, as though the calm he projected extended to those around him.

“Braden, she’s not experienced enough. Get her back to Control,” Lance ordered again. “We can handle this.”

Braden’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. Casually he disconnected reception by flipping the mic up while his eyes stared into hers.

“Do you like to live dangerously?” His eyelids lowered, a hungry, almost sexual expression crossing his face.

A smile trembled on her lips as she flipped her mic back as well. “I live for it.”

Braden turned in his seat, revved the Raider’s powerful motor and took off. No seat belts, no word of warning as he turned the wheel sharply, sending the Raider skidding along the sandy ground as it headed back toward the gully.

“Wheel protectors and bullet shield engaged.” She activated the security settings before checking her weapon and lowering the window at her side.

The bullets would clear the security field with no problem, but anything shot into it would explode harmlessly before touching the vehicle. Most of the time, anyway.

“Wrong weapon.”

Megan turned, her eyes widening as Braden reached to the floorboard between the bucket seats and pulled an automatic, laser-guided rifle forward. “Try this one.”

Illegal to the max.

She loved it.

She opened her mind to the calm that reached out from him, centering on it, letting it merge with her own fragile shields and finding it easier than she could have imagined as she tested the weight of the weapon he handed her.

The trim-line, fully automatic laser-guided rifle fired a deadly accurate blast that left a hole in a man the size of the Grand Canyon.

As with the man, even the weapons he owned carried no residue of violence or rage. They were tools, nothing more.

“Dead men don’t shoot back, sweetheart,” he reminded her as she cast him a gimlet stare.

“Lance will shoot us both.” She grinned in delight.

“Yeah, but his bullets don’t kill.” He grunted. “Damned police-issue crap. What happened to the good ole days?”

She turned, bracing the rifle’s barrel on the window as they sped around the curve into the gully where her own Raider sat. Gunfire blasted against their shields.

“Three o’clock.” He yelled out the position. “Give ’em hell.”

Her finger tightened on the trigger as she further braced the rifle against her shoulder, allowing the weapon to pound against her as she held the trigger back and sliced an arrow of death through the gully wall.

Bullets ricocheted off the shield as they passed, a second before she saw the first body fall.

“One down.” She let off the trigger, throwing herself against the seat as Braden threw the vehicle into another turn for the second pass.

“Second one is on the run. There he is.” Rather than pulling up the heat-seeking radar on the windshield, he pointed to where a shadow moved along a crevice at the top of the wall. “Are you going to wound or wipe?” Kill or capture.

“Wound. I want answers.” She pulled her own weapon free. “Let’s roll.”

Exhilaration pumped through her as the tires bit into the ground and the vehicle shot down the expanse of the gully. She aimed, watching the laser sight on the weapon carefully.

“Get your eyes off that damned light.” Braden snarled. “Use your gut. Let it tell you when to shoot. Those laser guides are for sissies.”

She licked her dry lips nervously, took a deep breath and watched the assailant as he ran. She lifted the weapon a bit higher than the sight called for, letting her senses explode, reaching out to the weapon as her Navajo grandfather had taught her to rather than depending on the sights as her training had.

She fired the first shot, cursing silently as the bullet bounced away harmlessly just above her target’s head. Quickly adjusting, she fired again, twice in rapid succession, and watched with a sense of satisfaction as the sniper shooting at her fell.

“Get ready.” The Raider turned, slammed to a stop, and Braden exploded from the vehicle to secure him.

“Dammit, that was dirty pool.” Megan raced out behind him. “I took him down, I get to cuff him.”

A roar exploded from Braden’s throat as he struggled with the assailant, who was growling with feral intensity. She stood back in shock, horrified as she watched the curved fangs flash at the side of the assailant’s mouth a second before they sank into Braden’s shoulder.

Braden’s fist slammed into the side of his head, a furious roar leaving his chest as wicked, long canines were revealed by the animalistic snarl on his lips.

They were both Breeds.

Suddenly, the man who had been her co-conspirator in adventure was a primal, unknown threat. Discounting the fact that Braden seemed to know Lance, she couldn’t be certain that even her cousin knew the man she faced now.

Shock transfixed her as she backed away, eyes wide, weapon raised. Braden’s fist landed in the undefended underbelly of the shooter, taking his breath before Braden landed another hard blow to the face and then delivered an incapacitating strike to the vulnerable neck.

It was powerful enough to knock the other man unconscious. Powerful enough to send a pulse of terror pounding through her as she flipped her mic down. She reactivated the receiver at her ear as she leveled her weapon on Braden. He was powerful enough that the next blow he was drawing back for might very well kill the only thing alive capable of telling her what had happened here.

“Step away from him,” she ordered, raising her voice above the animalistic growl rumbling from his chest. It would have been sexy if it didn’t sound so damned dangerous. “Now.”

She couldn’t afford to trust him. She couldn’t sense Braden, couldn’t read him as she could others. And suddenly, she wasn’t so certain that he wasn’t the enemy as well.

“Megan? Megan? Is that you? Thank God!” Lance was screaming in her ear. “We’re headed your way in a private chopper, ETA five minutes. What’s your situation?”

She ignored his frantic questions.

“I thought you liked to live dangerously?” The canines flashed again as a growl rumbled from Braden’s chest and he began to walk toward her.

Megan fired at his feet, causing him to come to a dead stop as he stared back at her in surprise. His brow lifted mockingly.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” she warned him firmly.

He flipped his mic down.

“Lance, your girl doesn’t want to believe I’m one of the good guys. Reassure her, huh?”

Braden was laughing. The son of a bitch was staring at her and laughing. No anger, no rage, no desire for retaliation against her. “Sometime before she puts a hole in my toe.” She aimed higher. “Or somewhere more important.”

She felt his amusement. It eased around her like a caress as she breathed in deeply, forcing herself to release the edge of calm she had allowed herself to tap into. His calm.

“Do you two think this is fun and games time?” Lance was screaming as the sound of the chopper coming in from the distance could be heard. “Megan, if you shoot him, I’m going to tan your hide for sure. You’ll never get out of booking. Do you hear me? Pull back, dammit.”

She kept her gun leveled on him. Fine, Lance trusted him, but did her cousin know who and what they were dealing with here?

“The situation here is contained,” she reported. “But I think I’ll play it a bit safe and keep Puss in Boots in my sights until you get here.”

Braden’s eyes narrowed at the nickname as silence filled the receiver, confirming her suspicion that he was indeed a Lion Breed. Coyote fangs held a hard curve; the Lion Breeds’ were straighter. He might not be the enemy, but he wasn’t exactly safe either.

Lance groaned a second later. “Megan, sweetheart, you are digging yourself into a hole you won’t be able to pull yourself out of here.”

If the way Cat-boy was looking at her was any indication, she already had. Anger swirled in the golden depths of his eyes as he flipped the mic up and crossed his arms over his impressively broad chest.

She didn’t feel the anger though. It wasn’t whipping at her head, shredding her nerves. It was contained within him. Damn, she really could have grown to like him. Maybe.

“You do like to live dangerously then.” The rough timbre of his voice sent a chill up her spine. “Next time, I’ll let you tangle with the Coyotes and I’ll find a nice place to sit and watch.”

“Yeah, you do that.” She refused to let the gun waver so much as an inch.

She could feel the tension in the air, despite his apparent casual stance. He was waiting on an opening, watching her for a weakness. And she could feel it, feel his readiness consuming her, pounding through her blood.

It was exciting rather than painful. Exhilarating when it should have been terrifying.

He shook his head in mock sadness, the deceptively lazy stance of his powerful body almost deceiving her into relaxing her guard. Jeans loosely molded his powerful thighs, a gray T-shirt hugged his broad chest. He was a walking sex machine and the glitter of his unusual eyes showed her he knew it.

“We were making a great team.” He sighed as the sound of the helicopter grew louder. “It’s too bad, Megan. I was finally starting to have fun.”

He jumped for her. Damn. No warning, no thought, no impression of what he was going to do before he did it. He just did it.

The gun flew from her hand as she hit the ground, the breath whooshing from her body as his heavier length covered her, heated her.

“Later baby.” He nipped her ear before jumping to his feet and racing for his Raider. A second later, dust enveloped her as he sped through the gully and disappeared around a bend. The sound of the helicopter grew closer.

Geez, could this day get much worse?

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Senator Macken Cooley frowned in displeasure as the cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket, forcing him to take his attention from the statutes of Breed Law he was currently reviewing. The mandates that governed the new species and gave them their special rights were a thorn in his side. They were creatures. They weren’t animal or human; they deserved no rights.

As the special, secured cell phone continued to vibrate, he jerked it from his jacket pocket with a grimace that turned to a look of interest when he saw the number on the caller ID.

“Yes?”

“Arness was there,” a low voice spoke into the phone. “Megan Fields has taken out one of the hunters and captured the other.”

Braden Arness was becoming the problem he had predicted to the Genetics Council. He smirked at the ire in the voice on the phone, wishing he knew who his contact was; he would love to imagine the expression that went with the voice at the moment. He didn’t sound pleased.

“I warned you it wouldn’t be so easy.” He couldn’t help but gloat. “She doesn’t hide in that desert because she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

He had tried to warn the Genetics Council of this when they decided to take the matter out of his hands. They didn’t know the girl or her family as he did. Their special psychic powers would make it practically impossible to ambush one of them, especially Megan Fields. Her empathic abilities were stronger than most, harder to control, but definitely impressive.

“We’re turning over two units to you, Senator,” the voice rasped. “They’re ex–Navy SEALs and dedicated to our cause. Don’t mess up. We won’t try to cover you if you’re caught. You’re on your own.”

“And if I succeed?” He could feel his cock stiffening at the thought of the control he would soon have over the delicate little Megan.

“If you succeed, you’ll advance to the next position,” the voice promised. “If you fail, you’ll die.”

He wouldn’t fail. And advancement within the Genetics Society was his ultimate goal. He craved the power that would come with the position of a section leader. One of the few that commanded their own units of Coyote soldiers. The spies would come to him then, their lives would be in his control. The thought of that power was almost orgasmic.

As the phone connection was severed, he allowed anticipation to begin building within him.

He didn’t see the Breeds as human or as animal; they were creatures. Tools to be used and nothing more. And Megan, by sheer chance, would become no more than a pawn in his efforts to see the creatures placed once again where they belonged—within captivity.

He would play with Megan a bit first though, see if she was as good as her father had always claimed she was. He could take her out at any time, but he wanted to see her fight. He wanted to see her scared. And he wanted that damned arrogant Jonas Wyatt to come to the realization that the Breeds were nothing compared to the Council. Nothing compared to Senator Macken Cooley. Wyatt was always so arrogant, so sure of himself and his power. Mac would show him once and for all the reality of true power.

Of course, Wyatt would attempt to save Megan. He might even have her placed in Sanctuary. It wouldn’t matter. No matter where she went, Mac knew his people could get to her. He wanted Wyatt to know that as well.

And maybe, just maybe before he killed little Megan, he would tell her why he had marked her for death. Not that she would remember at first. He knew her. Knew how her powers worked. David Fields, her father, had often confided in Mac as he worried for his daughter and her inability to process the empathic signals she received.

No, she wouldn’t remember that night; not until he took her life. He would have her, and then he would kill her. But in the meantime, he could play, just a little bit. The thought had him smiling as he turned back to his research, his dedication renewed, his determination to find a way to destroy those damned Breeds energized. He would succeed.