For a single, brutal moment she was fifteen again, watching in horror, in agony, as the razor-sharp edge of that knife sliced across her brother’s throat.
“Gypsy?” The dark voice pulled her back as he spoke gently. “This isn’t what he would have wanted. He would never have asked this of you.”
What the hell was the point of this meeting? Was she somehow being fired from a volunteer position?
How had she managed to mess this up?
“Do you not need my help any longer?” There was a curious sense of regret at the thought, at the loss she felt coming. Who would she be if she wasn’t Whisper? She was no one’s daughter, no one’s sister; she could be someone’s lover, but the risk would destroy her. What would that leave her?
“Your help has always been invaluable,” he finally breathed out roughly. “But I would never want you to compromise your dreams, or your own life, for that help. I want you to understand that. Your brother was my friend, Gypsy. A good friend. And I know his dreams for you had nothing to do with the risks you take for us.”
Gypsy shrugged again, telling herself she had to be wrong. “Is there something you need that you think will compromise that?”
“It’s possible,” he stated as she restrained a sudden, relieved cry. “You left the bar with Breaker and took him to your apartment. You’ve never done that. Is there a bond between the two of you that I should know about?”
“Are you asking if he was in my bed?” she frowned. “No, I haven’t had sex with him, nor have I forgotten the conditions of working with you.”
“Should a bond with this Breed develop, know that should you need to pull back in your work with us, we’ll understand. But at no time would I ever be able to overlook it if you revealed your past work with us. Do you understand me?”
“I understand.” Her fingers curled into fists at the remembered need to do just that. To end the lie she lived with just one person she could trust.
“Just before Commander Breaker left your apartment earlier, Liza Johnson and Claire Martinez were attacked on their way back to the safe house they’ve been assigned. They’re fine, but already we’re receiving transmissions among the Breeds that indicate she and Claire may be moved to a more secure and secret location. If this happens, then we need to know that location.”
Just like they needed to know the information the Breeds had on them? Something she still hadn’t managed to find, nor had she even managed to learn whether it actually existed.
“Rule doesn’t seem like a man who tells his secrets to anyone, let alone potential lovers,” she stated, her fingers curling into fists in her jacket pocket as she felt the fine threads of the spiderweb she lived within slowly tightening on her.
“Whatever you hear, see or perceive will be of the utmost importance to us,” he told her. “We need Liza and Claire safe, but the Breeds have enemies even within their own ranks. I don’t trust them to ensure Liza and Claire’s safety.”
“Are you going to attempt to take them yourselves?” she asked. “Liza Johnson’s Breed fiancé would object to that, I’m certain.”
“No doubt.” Regret shadowed the voice. “But time is becoming of the essence. Should we take that route, though, we’ll be certain to let you know the matter has been accomplished.”
Gypsy nodded, though her stomach was twisting with the knowledge that she could be pulled straight into the middle of a battle between the Unknown and the Breeds. That wasn’t a position she wanted to be in and one where she was terribly afraid she would end up.
CHAPTER 12
The next days were a whirlwind of activity as Gypsy’s mother pulled her into the preparations for the upcoming Navajo “Welcome to the Breed Community” Ball.
The dress was ready, but hair, nails and accessories had to be taken care of. There were meetings with the reporters they worked with, and long hours of discussions over what would appear in the Nation’s press releases as well as the articles that would go out nationally and internationally.
Nothing the Breeds did remained local, in any way.
It was a relief when the day of the ball actually arrived. A week and she hadn’t seen Rule, hadn’t even glimpsed him, though she’d been told many times how he watched the doors of the bars he and his enforcers moved in, as though looking for her.
And how no matter the woman who attempted to gain his interest, none of them succeeded. They were gently rebuffed or distracted by Dane or one of the other enforcers.
There was also the knowledge that she might well be addicted to his touch too. Because each night her skin actually seemed to ache, to chill, and she missed feeling his warmth against her. She ached for his kiss, and no matter how many of those damned chocolate and peppermint hard candies she ate, she couldn’t erase the need for his kiss.
Or the need for so much more.
As she dressed for the ball, a band seemed to tighten around her chest, a feeling of such loss overwhelming her as she realized she wouldn’t be able to stay out of his bed if he offered again. And she knew he would offer.
The need riding her was too great, and Gypsy knew she wasn’t strong enough to hold out against another erotic onslaught from the Breed who was becoming far too important to her in too many ways.
“I’m sorry, Mark,” she whispered as she stood in her bedroom, dressed, her hair perfectly arranged, knowing that once again she’d betrayed him. “I don’t know how to stay away from him.”
Would her brother have been angry?