"If, Lance. That's a hell of a supposition though. From what I'm seeing on the database here, this woman has no soul. You could just be swimming in hell by yourself."
"Not hardly." Lance raked his fingers through his hair, grimacing at the memory of her face, her eyes, before she left. "It has her too, Braden. I'd bet my life on it."
"Which is exactly what you are betting." Braden breathed out roughly. "Give me an hour. Wait there on me and I'll go out with you. You'll need backup on this one, Lance, and I don't want Megan anywhere near her. She still hasn't recovered from the search we did for her."
"What search?" Lance clenched his teeth at that information.
"After leaving Sanctuary last year, our first mission was to locate Death. We thought we were getting close, then she just disappeared."
"Where is Megan?" She would tell him. She wouldn't hide information she knew he would need.
"Megan flew back to Sanctuary this morning to pick up one of the new girls we're training here at the ranch. She won't be back till morning."
Now, wasn't that just perfect timing?
Lance stared out into the park, watching as the breeze swayed in the trees, the low psychic moan he heard whispering around him, a warning and plea.
"I'm heading out in an hour," he finally said and sighed roughly. "Get over here if you're going with me. I don't have all day."
Because if he didn't get Harmony beneath him again, he was going to explode with the lust ripping through him.
"I'm getting everything together now. I'll see you in an hour." The line disconnected as Lance jerked the phone link from his ear and tossed it to his desk.
Just what the fuck he needed, he scowled. H. R. Alonzo, one of the most virulent opponents of the Breeds, was already protesting city hall over the Breeds training at Megan's ranch, and members of the Blood Purity Society were streaming in. Journalists were camped out at the hotels, and the situation was rapidly escalating from a headache to a problem.
He sure as hell didn't need this added complication. And the moment he got his hands on Harmony again, he intended to make his displeasure known. In a variety ways. All of them guaranteed to make her come.
Harmony was barely ready when Jonas and the Breed lawyer arrived at her hotel room late that morning. She hadn't slept, and makeup wasn't covering the results of that well. And she was in pain. Physical, aching pain from the arousal building within her. Since when did a lack of screwing actually hurt?
Dressed in the soft black cotton uniform of a Breed Enforcer, she adjusted her utility belt at her hips and made certain her gun was comfortably holstered. Her knife was strapped to her opposite thigh, and tucked into her right ankle boot was a secondary dagger. The clothes were driving her crazy though.
The rasp of the material against her flesh was an irritation she wondered if she would survive. And she was hot. She felt as though she were burning alive from the inside out. Her womb sizzled with need; her pussy was so wet she had given up attempting to stem the slick juices that kept her prepared for penetration, and just thanked God that it wasn't seeping through her clothing.
When she opened the door to Jonas, she avoided his eyes and stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind her. At his side, J. R. "Jess" Warden, the Bureau's attorney, watched her with a glimmer of surprise in her eyes.
"Let's get it the hell over with," she snapped as she started down the hall. "Have you informed your sheriff yet of who he's being saddled with?"
"Did you sleep well last night, Harmony?" His voice was taunting as he finally began walking to her, his nostrils flaring as her eyes narrowed on him.
The bastard. He knew. Whatever was wrong with her he could smell it.
"I slept fine, Jonas," she purred menacingly as she glanced at Jess, then back to him.
"And you?"
His lips quirked, though the smug confidence was held firmly in place.
"I slept quite well." He moved slowly ahead of her. "You seem agitated this morning. Is something wrong?"
She was tempted to snarl, but restrained the urge. "Just your normal Breed psychosis," she retorted disdainfully, repeating the psychologist's profile Jonas had ordered before she left for Broken Butte.
As though her fondness for shedding blood had anything to do with her genetics. The lives she had taken after escape never weighed on her conscience. The monsters she had taken out were a disease. The world was better off with them dead. No, it was the lives she had taken before her escape that haunted her nightmares. It was those that left her gasping for breath, a plea on her lips as she fought to escape the horrors that visited her. Harmony wasn't still alive because she loved life. Nor was she still here for vengeance. She lived because she knew hell awaited her after death. Entering the elevator behind Jonas, Harmony turned to face the doors, ignoring the looks her brother cast her. Jonas Wyatt, they called him. She had called him Alpha One. The leader of the small contingent of Lion Breeds at the French Labs wherein they had been created.
Even though he had been younger than several of the other Breeds there, his strength and natural dominance had assured his steady rise within the ranks. He had been created as a breeder for a few specially created females, a last attempt to see if they could create the soldier they were searching for through other means. Instead, Jonas had grown to excel in areas the head scientist, Madame LaRue, had never expected. Deceptive, powerful, completely logical and coldhearted, Jonas had taken control of the other males from the time he reached his maturity. He manipulated them, maneuvered them and always managed to get the best out of them.
Harmony stared up at the ceiling patiently.
"Sheriff Jacobs will be your representative," Jonas informed her as the doors opened and they stepped out into the lobby, the attorney trailing behind them. "You'll live in his home, under his guidance for the time you'll be here. He'll report to the Bureau once a week on your progress. He's a fairly responsible individual. I'm certain I won't have to worry about him."
Harmony kept her pace steady as she moved along with him, tempering her opinion on his orders.
She had no idea what Jonas's game was, or how he hoped to accomplish his goals by sticking her in this little tourist trap, but she was certain she would figure it out. One thing she did know, she was not about to turn over the one thing she suspected he was after: the information she had hidden on the first Leo, the first Breed created and still living— information she had stolen when she escaped the labs.
"Are you listening to me, Harmony?" he finally asked as they stepped into the sunlit courtyard at the entrance to the hotel and he slid his dark glasses over his eyes.
"I heard you, Jonas." She smiled back coolly, reminding herself, forcefully, that she couldn't kill him. Well, she could. It would be a fight, but technically, it could be arranged. But she was fairly certain that doing so wasn't in her best interests at the moment.
He smiled, flashing his dominant canines threateningly. Drama just seemed to go hand in hand with the Breeds these days. She remembered a time when they kept their opinions to themselves and just killed. Rather like she did. The threatening thing just seemed useless to her.
"I think you're going to like Sheriff Jacobs." He finally nodded to the courthouse and Sheriff's Department on the other side of the small park they were crossing the street to.
"Several of the Breed females consider him quite handsome." Harmony barely suppressed her shudder, or the whimper that yearned to pass her lips as she kept pace with him. Walking was torturous. Agonizing. The swollen folds of her pussy rasped against her silk panties as the engorged bud of her clitoris demanded relief.
She had attempted masturbation. To her own peril. It had only increased the arousal rather than diminishing it.
As they crossed the park, Harmony fought to tamp down her growing agitation. Jonas kept a steady pace, even as his voice droned on. The do's and don'ts of how to act and react as a sheriff's deputy. As though she knew nothing but killing.
"Here we are." They stepped onto the walkway that led to the entrance of the Sheriff's Department. The building was one story, with tall, wide windows and an Old West charm she appreciated.
The door swung open as Jonas stepped aside and allowed her to enter ahead of him. She cast him a suspicious look at the move, only to receive a mocking smile in return.
"Straight ahead." He nodded to the hallway on the other side of the reception area as he lifted his hand to the desk sergeant. "His office is at the end of the hall." Harmony drew in a deep breath as she prayed for patience, only to flinch and jerk from Jonas's reach as his hand moved to her back.
"Okay?" He lifted his brows as his silvery eyes gleamed with amusement. No, that wasn't okay, she thought, suddenly feeling the beginnings of fear settling in the pit of her stomach. Something was horribly wrong. The feel of his hand, even with her clothing as a buffer, had nearly made her physically ill. Even now, her flesh turned clammy as a cold burn began to build beneath the skin.
"Let's get this over with." A tremor raced down her spine as she moved for the hallway. Jonas was up to something and she knew it. She could feel the warning tightening in her stomach, the sense of danger settling around her shoulders as they neared the end of the hallway.
Then his scent hit her. Midnight and storms. The earth, fresh and primal, pulling at her, reminding forcibly of the agonizing need building inside her.
Her steps slowed.
"Keep moving, Harmony." Jonas's voice was commanding, brooking no refusal as she felt every nerve ending in her body perking up in awareness.
Lance.
"What's his name?" she whispered, drawing steadily closer to the door, aware that there was no escape.
Getting past Jonas would be impossible.
She stopped several feet from the door, the smell of the man inside igniting her lust to a flaming height. She could almost feel his touch as the air grew heavy around her. His hands, broad and calloused, his lips, firm and heated.
"Lance."
His answer had her closing her eyes as sure knowledge rose inside her. She turned slowly, staring up at Jonas as he met her gaze coolly.
"What have you done to me?" she whispered, knowing, certain that somehow Jonas knew what was happening to her and why.
The blood tests, the saliva tests, the psychological profiles—they had been done for a reason. For this. She knew it. She hadn't survived in the world for the past ten years in her vocation and not learned when to trust her own instincts.
"Let's just say I've hedged my bets," he remarked as he reached around her and knocked imperiously on the door. "You can thank me later." Harmony turned as the door swung open and the scent of pure, hard male lust swamped her. She felt her knees weaken and her womb clenched painfully as she stared up into surprised, then suspicious midnight blue eyes.
Lance's gaze tore from hers to stare behind her, the scowl deepening at his brow as anger lit his features.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped at Jonas a second before gripping Harmony's arm and pulling her into the room.
At any other time, the fact that someone attempted to slam the door in Jonas's face would have been funny. She could have even respected the attempt if she wasn't about to orgasm from the feel of his hand wrapping around her arm.
As Jonas stepped into the room, she jerked away from Lance, only to turn and face yet another daunting figure.
Braden Arness. Husband to the empath, Megan Arness. They had tracked her to France last year and nearly caught up with her.
She stepped back, her hand going to the gun strapped to her thigh as she moved far enough back to keep all three men in her line of sight.
This wasn't a good thing.
"You. Stay put and get your hand off that damned gun." Lance pointed his finger at her furiously, the raw dominance in his voice causing her eyes to widen.
