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 c**k 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 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.
Chapter Two
Damn, she made him hard. It was the first thought that popped into Braden's mind the next morning when Megan stepped into her cousin's office and stared at him with instant suspicion.
She was dressed in tight, sexy jeans tucked into calfhigh boots. A khaki shirt was buttoned just over the rise of her br**sts; a wide belt cinched her waist and held the holster for her police-issue Wounder that lay behind her left hip.
A fine film of perspiration dotted her brow as her dark blue eyes gleamed with amusement and a spark of menace. She would not be an easy woman to control, but he had already guessed that.
And she was aroused. That was his second thought. It slammed into him as the subtle, unmistakable scent of female heat reached his sensitive nostrils. He sat up straighter at the scent, narrowing his eyes in complete pleasure so he could relish it.
Who had aroused her, though? The prick to his male pride suddenly had him frowning at her. She lifted her brow, her expression mocking.
He restrained his chuckle, just as he restrained the need to meet her challenge. One thing was for sure: It wouldn't be long before he had those pants off her ass and his c**k seated snugly in that hot little pu**y.
"You wanted to see me?'Megan prompted her cousin with a mocking lift of her brow as she closed the door behind her.
Braden turned his gaze back to Lance, quirking his brow when he caught the other man's less than pleased expression. Lance hadn't been thrilled by the order that came from his superiors, nor by the information Braden had given him on the Coyote's interrogation the night before. Not that much had come of that.
"Take a seat, Megan," Lance sighed.
Slouched back in his chair, his ankle propped on his knee, Braden turned his head once again to watch her walk across the office. She moved like a spring rain, smooth and silky. And damn if the smell of her didn't have his mouth watering.
"Okay, so here I am." She stopped at the desk, eyeing the chair beside Braden with no small amount of suspicion and a glint of humor as a smile was quickly controlled. "I don't want to sit next to him. He bites."
She crossed her arms over her br**sts, nice, compact little br**sts with just enough fullness to tempt him. Her mock frown informed him that yesterday's little adventure hadn't really angered her. Those winged black brows lowered over ocean blue eyes that looked deep enough to drown a man, and challenged at the same time. He loved a challenge.
"She shoots." He restrained his smile as he turned back to Lance and nodded in her direction. "I needed some sort of defense."
Lance wasn't amused. He wiped his hand over his face and muttered something about "damn stubborn women."
Braden completely agreed with him.