"Lance, your girl doesn't want to believe I'm one of the 1 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.