A smile curled his lips, one he was certain was filled with lust and anticipation. Tonight. He was going to take her tonight. Jonas Wyatt, the director of Breed affairs, was out of town; he couldn’t veto the mission. And when it was over, Tanner swore he would have the information he needed. Or Scheme Tallant would be dead.
He was sick of Jonas standing between him and the woman. As director of Breed affairs, Jonas had ordered Tanner to wait. To see what happened. To give Tallant a chance to mess up.
Tallant wasn’t going to mess up. He wasn’t going to make a mistake. And neither was his daughter. And Tanner was tired of waiting.
Tonight, he was going to take her. Her father would guess who had her, but he would never have proof. And Tanner knew how to hide her. He could hide her where no man or Breed would ever find her.
It was time to make Scheme Tallant pay for her part in the orders that had sent countless Breeds to their deaths. It was time to take the gloves off and get the information they needed. Not just against her father, but the identity of the spy in Sanctuary and locations of the purist and supremist factions moving closer by the day to penetrating the defenses the Breed compound had managed to put in place.
It was time to fight back.
The golden boy of the Breed society was in attendance and being fawned over and loved by all. Tanner Reynolds. Playboy, PR genius and possibly her executioner if he managed to actually get his hands on her in a dark alley.
She had come to the party to find safety. To find the Breed she had been working with for the past eight years. And he wasn’t here. He wasn’t, but many others were.
Scheme moved slowly about the room, tracking the Breeds present, placing names with the files she had studied over the years. Cabal St. Laurents, Tanner’s genetic twin, wasn’t present, though that wasn’t unusual. He rarely attended the parties.
None of the married Breed couples were present, though Scheme knew they had been invited. There were several enforcers dressed in their black Breed uniforms, the insignia of each particular Breed’s DNA stamped on the uniform’s shoulder. There were many lions, a few panthers, she was certain she had glimpsed a cougar earlier, but no Bengals.
The only Bengal in the room was Tanner, and he wasn’t an enforcer. At least, not that the Bureau of Breed Affairs admitted. But Scheme knew better. She knew the vicious retribution he could mete out when the situation warranted it. Hadn’t she once died after destroying the evidence of his vengeance? That thought had a mocking smile dragging at her lips. Being a double agent for the Breeds could be hazardous to one’s health. Especially when the only Breed aware of her status as a double agent seemed to be MIA at the moment.
Carefully, she made her way around the ballroom. There were at least two dozen Breeds present. But the one she was searching for hadn’t attended. Jonas Wyatt was noticeably absent from this event. Which was rare. Too rare.
Sipping at her champagne, Scheme skirted the edges of the room, heading for the patio doors and the gardens beyond. Escaping the stifling atmosphere of the party filled with suspicious gazes was imperative. Almost as imperative as finding Wyatt. Damn, he was supposed to have been here.
Lifting the skirt of her blazing scarlet evening gown, Scheme stepped from the marble patio, following the stone path that led into the dimly lit gardens. It wasn’t the safest place for her to be, not with the number of Breeds milling around, but she needed the silence, needed to weigh her options now that her main objective had made himself scarce.
Coming here was a risky move. Not just because there were any number of Breeds willing to put a hole in her head, but because too many eyes were watching for what she had intended to attempt. Betraying Cyrus Tallant wasn’t a good idea, especially as openly as she had planned.
With the induction of Breed Law several years past, Scheme’s life had been placed, more or less, on hold. Working as her father’s assistant, she had been the liaison with his Council contact, and once that contact had been arrested and tried for his crimes, Scheme had come under fire as well. And under suspicion. She had been her father’s shield and she hadn’t even known it.
Moving through the gardens, she drew farther away from the party and deeper into the shadowed peace the lush landscaping afforded her. Here, there weren’t as many eyes following her, the gazes sometimes condemning, always suspicious.
“It could be dangerous roaming around in the dark, Miss Tallant. You’re not exactly well liked these days.”
The voice drew her to an abrupt stop. Deep and smooth as aged whiskey. Tanner Reynolds slid from the darkness and faced her from within a small grotto echoing with the soothing sound of a nearby fountain.
The atmosphere was pure romance. Dimly lit, water trickling in the background, shadows lengthening around them. For a moment, just a moment, Scheme let herself regret. Regret that the atmosphere and the sudden heightened tension in her body wasn’t for a lover, but rather a man who considered himself her enemy.
And he was dressed in a tux. Sweet heaven, men like Tanner Reynolds should never be allowed in a tux. It should be criminal. It was like putting a bow on a tiger. It only served to emphasize the primal danger of the beast wearing it.
“I was invited,” she assured him, wondering at the husky sound of her own voice.
“Of course you were,” he said softly. “I made certain of it.”
Now that was enough to make a girl’s nerves clatter in sudden shock. It also had her ni**les peaking in interest. That wasn’t a good thing, for the simple fact that she was well aware that Breeds could sense and smell female arousal.
“You made certain of it?” She tilted her head to the side, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulder and shield the side of her face. “And why would you do that?”
To kill her maybe, a cynical, suddenly less-than-pleased voice reminded her. Forget the sudden warmth between her thighs and the sensitive budding of her ni**les. This Breed was liable to kill her rather than f**k her.
And she couldn’t blame him. He was aware of nothing but the impression she had sought to give for the past ten years. That she was indeed Cyrus Tallant’s daughter, not just by blood but by mercilessness. That she was a part of factions determined to destroy them, an enemy of the very species she had risked her life countless times to save. And she couldn’t reveal the truth. Not now. Not until Jonas learned who the spy was within the Breed community. Not until she found Jonas and insured that the information she had made it to the right hands.
“Let’s say, I thought it was time we should meet,” he informed her. “We’ve been dancing around each other for years, making certain to stay out of one another’s space. I’ve grown impatient with the game.”
“We’re playing a game then?” She arched her brows curiously. “The rules must have been lost in the mail.”
“I think you’re very well aware of the rules.” He moved from the shadows, stepping onto the path beside her, seeming to suck the oxygen out of the air as he did so.