Rule turned back to the Coyote slowly, his gaze narrowing. “What’s just a thought? If there’s no scent of Mating Heat, then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“True.” The Breed nodded.
Besides, Lawe had already given Rule his opinion of trading mates when Rule first saw Gypsy, first feared that she would be his mate.
He had his mate, and one he was well satisfied with. A mate strong enough to fight by his side rather than being content to hide behind the walls of Sanctuary, the feline Breed compound.
“We are now at Condition Beta. I repeat, Condition Beta.” The radio crackled with the security protocols as the call came through from base over the vehicle’s speakers.
Rule reached out and activated the two-way link.
“Commander Breaker responding to Condition Beta,” Rule snapped into the link as Dog hit the gas, the Dragoon hitting top speed in seconds and racing through the night to the hotel.
“Commander Breaker, Director Wyatt requests immediate Blue Protocols be enacted. I repeat, enact Blue Protocols immediately.”
He pulled the communications earbud he carried at all times from the small holster on his belt and clipped it to his ear. Activating the link, he waited for the beep that indicated secure status before identifying himself and giving the day’s authorization code. “We have Condition Blue. I repeat, Condition Blue. Enact all security protocols. Director Wyatt has authorization until I’m on site.”
Liza Johnson and Claire Martinez, were in danger again. The two women were too important to the Breeds to chance losing. They were too important to Jonas Wyatt to even consider allowing them to be in danger.
Twelve years before, Liza Johnson and Claire Martinez had been Honor Roberts and Fawn Corrigan, two test studies of one of the most important research projects that Brandenmore Research, a very well-hidden part of the Genetics Council’s labs, had ever attempted. A project that created the drug now threatening Amber’s life.
...
Spinning into the back lot of the hotel, Dog brought the Dragoon to a jerking stop before Rule threw open the door and raced out to the enforcer running toward him.
“We had two six-man teams rush Liza and Claire’s security force just after leaving the hotel for transport to safe houses. Backup arrived in time to secure their safety, but these bastards were good, Commander. Too damned good,” Flint McCain reported as he met them at the back entrance, his expression savage. “Liza’s secure with Enforcer Black and Miss Martinez is currently secured in Director Wyatt’s suite. Blue Protocols are in force, but complete lockdown is impossible at this point.”
There were simply too many guests in the hotel who weren’t Breeds.
“Have we identified the teams?” Rule barked out. “Scent markers, any identifying DNA left?”
“Nothing. They struck, made an attempt to gain access to the Dragoons, then before we could get backup into place, they were gone. They didn’t breech the Dragoons, but if backup hadn’t been there . . .” Flint broke off, the message clear as they rushed into the hotel. “They left nothing to identify them, and we suspect scent markers were blocked.”
“Get a crime scene unit at the site and on those Dragoons,” Rule barked out. “And get me someone up here with a deeper sense of smell. They had to have left something to identify them, and I want it found. Now.”
There was no such thing as no evidence, or no proof of identity. There was simply the inability or unwillingness to detect it. “Director Wyatt is reporting that Miss Johnson may have remembered something.” Flint lowered his voice as they entered the elevator and headed for the top floor. “He wants you with him now.”
Rule’s jaw clenched. If Liza was remembering something more, then hopefully Claire wouldn’t be long behind her. That meant the danger would only increase.
It was time to suggest removing both women from the area and completely out of sight rather than securing them in town, before the Genetics Council or, worse yet, the two women’s former protector and now their would-be executioner, Gideon, managed to get to them.
If either party caught up with them, their lives wouldn’t be worth shit and the Bureau would have no chance in hell of saving them, or Amber.
And that, they definitely couldn’t allow to happen.
...
Gypsy moved into the darkness, her hands pushed into the pockets of her denim jacket to ward off the chill of the desert as she stepped away from her Jeep and entered the abandoned garage on the edge of town.
The call had come through before the vehicle that arrived to pick up Rule had managed to pull from the parking lot. The voice on the other end of the line had requested a meeting at the garage immediately.
“I’m here,” she stated, coming to a stop in the middle of the garage bay she’d entered and staring around curiously.
“You always come when we call, don’t you, Gypsy?” the voice reflected quietly. “You’ve never denied us, nor have you ever betrayed us.”
She shrugged, a bit uncomfortable with this sudden reflection rather than the arrogance she was used to. “I came to you and offered my help, you didn’t ask me for it.
“No, we didn’t,” the voice agreed, causing her to stare intently at the shadow as it shifted just slightly. “You didn’t have to give your life, though. Just as we never expected Mark to give his.”