"What about Braden? He's aware of the spy. He and Megan could work on this."
"It could endanger their work with the Breeds they've already taken under their wing." She shook her head at that one too. "I don't know, Lance."
"It's our only choice," he told her roughly. "He'll know someone to contact outside Sanctuary if nothing else. The Breeds are a cohesive unit, but like everything else, certain branches work under the radar from the others. It's our only answer, because after this, you're no longer in the game."
There was that dominant tone again. It sent shivers up her spine even as she leveled him a hard look.
"You can't take the killer out of the Breed," she told him quietly.
"No, but I can take my Breed out of the killing arena." He leaned forward, his gaze hardening as he watched her. "And never doubt, baby, that you're being taken out." And why did that send a strange little thrill racing through her body?
"We can discuss this later," she said, rather than arguing over something so pointless. Hell, she wanted out, she realized. She wanted to sleep in Lance's arms every night and feel their child grow inside her.
"We're not far from Boulder," he mused then. "But there's too many damned eyes watching us. I'll call Braden and have him put together what we need and meet us tonight on the other side of the courthouse. There's an underground tunnel that leads over there from the days that the downstairs cells were used regularly. We can sneak over to the courthouse and slip away from there."
That could work. Harmony straightened in her chair as she let the plan roll through her mind. "We could hit Boulder by daybreak." She nodded. "We'll take a room until dark. It's the only way to slip into the mountains unnoticed if we're being followed."
"We won't be followed. But we'll go in after dark anyway, just to be safe. Get me a list of what you need and I'll put Braden on it."
Her brows lifted. "You mean I get to contribute?" she asked sweetly. Lance grunted, his gaze heating up at her sarcasm.
"If I could lock you up and keep you, I would," he growled, though she had a feeling they both knew better. "You scare the hell out of me, Harmony, but this is your world. You know a damned sight more about it than I do. This time, I'll follow you." She was going to go into shock. She stared back at him in disbelief, knowing that following was not a word this man usually played with.
"I didn't say I would like it," he growled. "I said I'd do it. There's a hell of a difference. And I'll spank you for it later."
Damn, there was that purr again. She blinked at the little rumble that came from her chest.
"Minx." His eyes were like dark blue flames as he stared back at her. "Keep that up and I'll just tie you up in the bed until this is over. That sound makes me harder than hell."
"The mating heat is going away," she pointed out.
"Tell that to my dick." He rose from his chair, and sure enough, the bulge in his jeans was there. Thick. Heavy. Her mouth watered. "And stop looking at me like that. Get your list together and we'll head out."
Bossy, that's what he was. Harmony watched as he moved from the table, all business despite the hard-on straining beneath his jeans. But he was also willing to work with her. She liked that. She hadn't expected it, but she liked it. Her eyes followed him, lingering on his hard back as he turned away from her, feeling the further softening in her chest. She loved him.
That fact hit her like a two-by-four against the head. For a moment, she even swore she saw stars.
She loved him.
It was quite possibly the most weakening and yet the most strengthening emotion she had ever known in her life. This was why she hadn't been able to leave him. Even knowing the danger she represented to his life, the heartache she had feared was coming, she hadn't been able to leave because she had fallen in love with him that first night.
When he had touched her as though she were something beautiful, something fragile and to be cherished; when he had whispered his naughty demands at her ear and made her feel like the woman she had never been, she had fallen in love with him.
"Harmony, that look on your face is going to get you f**ked and we're already eating daylight here. Get the list together and let's get moving. I want this taken care of."
"A quickie…"
"You've had your quickie," he growled, the dark demand in his voice making her insides melt. "I want all night. Hell. I want f**king forever. Now let's take care of it."
CHAPTER 22
The sniper rifle surprised her.
Harmony had known that Lance had been on the SWAT team in Chicago; she had even been aware that he was a sharpshooter. Yet when he pulled the specially designed sniper rifle from its case and began to put it together, she could only watch him. He handled the weapon like an extension of himself— confidently, certain of each move he made as the different parts of the weapon were cleaned, then put in place. With each added part, he checked the weapon for any flaws, any weakness. She studied his expression as he worked at the small table in the hotel room they had finally settled on. His face was set, composed, relaxed. There was no frown marring his strong brow, no sense of anger tightening his mouth.
As she cleaned and checked her own weapons on the extra bed in the room, she realized that perhaps there were parts of Lance that she didn't know as well as she should. Parts of him that perhaps she was frightened to know.
He was a man of many layers, of many depths, and infinite patience. She had never met a male as patient, and yet with such a sense of inner strength as Lance held. Unlike Breed males, Lance didn't push his dominance, his power. He used it when he had to, when it became apparent that cool logic or patience wouldn't achieve the results he was searching for. But he didn't feel the need to impress that dominance on anyone. Unlike Jonas, Lance didn't play games, he didn't manipulate or threaten. Like the wind, what he couldn't go through, he went around or chipped at, layer by layer. But this was the first time she had seen the warrior she had only caught glimpses of before. In his face, in the prepared readiness of his muscles and the cool, objective look in his blue eyes as he studied his weapon, she saw a man who had no qualms in taking that final step to do what he felt was necessary.