“Who wants to?” Humans weren’t exactly his preferred type of company.
Coming into the Bureau hadn’t been easy for him, but once his team had begun mating and settling down, Stygian had found himself at a crossroads. The paths he had been offered weren’t exactly ones he would have preferred.
Train a new team, or take the position Jonas offered and command a team already trained and needing only a commander willing to guide them? They were Breeds he had known, Breeds he’d fought with on at least one occasion, and Breeds he trusted. But nothing was the same as the team you’d fought with, gotten to know and could count on no matter the situation.
“You need to understand them,” Jonas warned him as Amber moved, a childish little mumble of displeasure sounding from her pouty lips.
Stygian’s gaze jerked to the little girl. She wasn’t emanating any pain, but something was distressing her.
Jonas continued to rub her fragile back, his gaze locked on the little face that came into view when she shifted position and stretched out against his chest. Her head lay in the crook of his arm before she finished maneuvering for the position she was after.
The smile that quirked the director’s lips was damned surprising.
Pure tenderness.
“This meeting is over,” Jonas stated firmly though softly. “Go back to her, keep her occupied. Once the link reactivates, I’ll meet with her. Let’s see what happens when her friends learn what we’re really searching for.”
“Is that a good idea?” Stygian had never been one to give the suspected enemy any information at all.
“She’s going to tell them anyway,” Jonas reminded him. “This way, we can track the transmission to the source and identify her shadows. That could help us figure out why they’re tailing her and why she’s working with them.”
“Have you considered they could simply be friends who are worried about her? Friends with the same paranoia and resources that you have?” Jonas’s mate and wife, Rachel Broen-Wyatt, stepped across the open door frame that led to the suite’s bedroom.
Leaning against the wood frame, one hand tucked into the pocket of her jeans, the other propped on a slender hip, love suffused her expression as her gaze settled on the man and child across the room.
No Breed could ever doubt the pure, soul-deep love that existed between the couple. The room was suddenly scented with the power of it. Sensual, yet pure, innocent and yet erotic, the emotions that swept between the two were almost too intimate for Stygian’s comfort.
“Hello, Stygian.” Rachel straightened from her position and moved slowly into the room. “I see you’re once again enmeshed in one of Jonas’s schemes.” Pure pride enveloped her despite the teasing tone of her voice.
“So it would seem,” he agreed, suddenly uncertain what to do with himself.
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his mission pants, he waited impatiently as she crossed the room to her husband, then bent to him.
Her hair cascaded over her face, hiding the greeting kiss as Jonas’s hand lifted, his fingers spreading to cup her cheek and neck.
That scent; Stygian had learned to associate it with the deepest emotions shared between mates. What Jonas and Rachel shared was as deep as that of couples mated for a decade, though.
It was rare to sense such depths of emotion after only a few years.
The kiss lasted only seconds. A true greeting kiss, but the impact of the dedication between the two sent a chill racing up Stygian’s spine.
Without one, the other would cease to exist, he thought, and such realization would be terrifying for the babe cradled between the two, should it ever happen.
Then, as the mother drew back and her attention joined Jonas’s on the child, he felt a chill of foreboding tearing through him.
Amber had awakened, and suddenly what had been shared love between two became a circle of pure emotion.
There was nothing sensual or erotic in this. It went beyond soul deep though, and for the first time Stygian could sense the enormity of what Jonas was facing if he lost the battle for the little girl’s life.
“Momma, Da sings.” Amber lay back in Jonas’s arms and clearly told a secret Jonas would have preferred she kept to herself. “Da sings purty, Momma.”
Rachel’s laughter was filled with love as she straightened and stared down at her mate. “Da sings, does he?” she asked the little girl. “What does Da sing, Amber?”
“Uh, Rachel—” There was a definite thread of amusement in Jonas’s tone.
“Da sing bad cotie go bye-bye.” Amber laughed, obviously aware she was telling a great secret. “Ba’ cotie go bye-bye, boom boom,” she suddenly sang as Jonas fought to hold back his laughter and Rachel turned a look of mock anger on him.
“Jonas, shame on you,” she chastised him, though her tone lacked anger. “I thought we were teaching Amber to be compassionate and kind?”