“I’m so screwed,” she whispered painfully.
“I have no doubt,” he agreed, his voice cooler now. “It’s the price you pay, Cassa. And it’s not always a kind one.”
No, the price she would pay wouldn’t be a kind one.
CHAPTER 1
WOLF MOUNTAIN, COLORADO WOLF BREED BASE, HAVEN ELEVEN YEARS LATER
Cassa Hawkins slipped silently through the shadows of the Wolf Breed compound of Haven as she tried to ignore the misty rain falling and her own sense of anticipation. She felt like a ghost, like a shadow, unseen, unheard. It was a heady sensation to slip past Breed after Breed, undetected.
The chill night air wrapped around her and penetrated the black clothing she wore. Even the snug black cap that covered her hair did little to keep out the cold or the dampness. It added to the thrill, to the sense of disbelief and impending danger. She was insane, creeping around like this and she knew it. She couldn’t get far. It wasn’t possible that a drug had actually been created that could fool the Breed senses and allow her to get much farther past the sentries posted throughout Haven.
Someone was playing with her, allowing her to get only so far. That was the only explanation for the distance she had gained between the cabin she was assigned and the main offices of the compound, because there were too many Breed sentries posted. Breeds who had an incredible sense of smell. They were chosen for their positions simply because they were impossible to get past.
It wasn’t possible that such a drug could have been created, a drug that would fool the Breed’s superior ability to scent others. Was it?
According to the emails she had received and the small bottle of round white pills that had arrived at her apartment the week before, it was definitely possible. And she had been crazy enough tonight to actually take one. To slip it onto her tongue, to allow it to dissolve and enter her system before she left her cabin.
The reckless decision had concerned her, but only for brief moments. As many of her fellow reporters knew, Cassa had often been known to dare death. It was one of her faults, many said. She considered it one of her strengths. After all, her days were numbered and she knew it. She might as well get away with as much as possible until the day of reckoning arrived. Cabal may have allowed her to live this long, but she doubted that decision would last much longer.
In this case, intuition had spurred her on. The pictures of bloody bodies, the emails that had warned her that a rogue Breed was taking vengeance for some unknown crimes, and then the drug that arrived with the unsigned note that said the past always returned no matter how hard one fought it. The past was indeed always there. It hovered at her shoulder, ran through her nightmares and glittered in the golden flecks of Cabal St. Laurents’s eyes every time he looked at her. The past was alive and well. She didn’t need a killer to remind her of that. Just as she didn’t need anyone to remind her of the truth of her own actions.
The truth.
The truth was, Cassa had spilled blood herself. The truth was, once her secrets were revealed, she would die. The Breeds would never allow her to live once they knew the truth. She was lucky that the small team of Breeds who knew the truth had kept their mouths shut all these years.
She slipped past yet another Breed guard. Mordecai. One of their best trackers, rumored to be one of their most merciless Coyote Breeds. On silent feet, she moved slowly through the shadows, along the wet ground, heart racing, mouth dry, until she was a safe distance from him.
The chilly winter air gave no hint that spring was just around the corner. The cold penetrated flesh and bone, but nothing could still the excitement racing through her now. It was working. They hadn’t scented her, they hadn’t sensed her.
God, this couldn’t be possible.
Pressing her back tight to the thick trunk of a pine, she stared up at the moonless sky and whispered a silent prayer that neither one of the Breeds patrolling the area would scent her.
A drug like this could be deadly, just as her source had warned her.
Pushing away from the tree, Cassa skirted around several maples bare of leaves and dripping a chilly rain. She slid through the night.
There was a whisper of voices ahead, the sound of soft footfalls coming nearer. Ducking behind the evergreen shrubs that grew around an enclosed picnic area, she waited for them to pass.
“Are you certain of your information?” Jonas Wyatt’s voice came through the night clearly as the pair grew closer.
“Five dead, Jonas, that’s hard to mistake. Each one was rumored to be a part of a twelve-man hunting party that came together several times a year to hunt down escaped Breeds. Each one was killed in the same manner, using the same pattern. There’s no mistake.”
The voice that answered had Cassa’s heart tripping, then speeding up in awareness. She fought back the response, bit her lip and prayed that little miracle pill would cover the scent of arousal as well.
Cabal St. Laurents had a voice that made women want to melt to the floor in a puddle of orgasmic bliss. It rasped over the senses with a velvet cadence Cassa had never been able to ignore. It was a seducer’s voice, and she had been seduced long ago, even when he’d stared at her with death in his eyes.
“Hell.” Jonas paused, no more than four feet from where she crouched.
As badly as she wanted to peek over the border of shrubs, she didn’t dare. The scent of her body might be masked, but there would be no way in hell she would escape their exceptional eyesight.
“That’s a good description of what we’re facing,” Cabal answered. “It’s not over. The hunters are becoming the prey, and if the first five are any indication, we could be looking at some pretty high-profile individuals. The former mayor that disappeared last week was a well-known individual throughout the nation. We’re looking at a PR nightmare here.”
Cassa felt her mouth dry. The former mayor who had disappeared recently was David Banks, a proponent of Breed rights. He had argued for Breed Law, and had been known to host several charity parties a year in honor of the Breeds. Now he was also rumored to have been a member of a group of men that once hunted Breeds?
She could believe it. She had never liked Banks, but she knew his popularity. His smooth, charming smile and soft-spoken voice had fooled more than one journalist.