She knew Jonas was determined, single-minded, and nothing mattered to him but his family and the Breeds. Their survival was his only reason for living.
Rather like the Unknown.
The Breeds were considered part of the People, their genetics a direct tie to past chiefs, medicine men, the sisters, and children who had been taken from the tribes during the years the Council was building its so-called army.
Her brother had revered these warriors. He’d dreamed of eventually becoming one himself if a position among the six ever opened up.
“Getting that kind of information will be extremely hard. Hell, it could be impossible,” she muttered, making a quick mental list of the Breeds who might know what Jonas was doing. Though she doubted more than one, possibly two, would be privy to the information he had.
Rule Breaker would definitely be one of those Breeds, as would his brother, Lawe.
Jonas had several bodyguards; no doubt they knew quite a bit, but Rachel Broen was his lover. She would know everything Jonas Wyatt knew, and Gypsy knew Rachel.
A sickening feeling of self-disgust overtook her.
She couldn’t reveal anything Rachel told her, even if the other woman did tell her something important. She knew what the Breeds were searching for and why, just not their actual identities. She had no information to give Jonas that would help him; her contact never told her anything, he merely took what she collected. And she believed him when she’d asked him if he could help Amber and he’d denied the ability. His voice had resonated with regret when he told her he couldn’t.
“Watching your mind work is fascinating,” the warrior said then, his voice reflecting amusement and disbelief. “At some point, my friend, you’re going to have to realize how much your talents are being wasted as my contact. You could do far more with yourself.”
Gypsy shook her head.
“Rule’s suite was completely clean when I went through it last week,” she stated, brushing aside his comment. “He keeps his e-pad on him, at least whenever I’ve seen him. It’s never turned on when he has it, and he never pulls it free to use it.”
She knew that because one of the programs the warrior had added to her secure satellite phone had been designed to hack into the device the Breed commander carried and download the information contained on it. But it would only work if the e-pad was turned on.
“You had to have overlooked something,” he told her then. “When Breaker returned to his room, there was a definite indication of data being accessed or routed into his room from the hotel’s cameras. He couldn’t do that if he didn’t have a computer there. The e-pads aren’t capable of running a program like that. They can only read what’s routed to them from a program existing on another device. And he wasn’t carrying it in with him when he returned.”
Her jaw clenched in frustration then. Getting into Rule’s suite was easy, but getting caught would be easy as well.
Very easy.
The only person she knew close enough to Jonas Wyatt who might have the information, or a clue to it, was his lover, and the two women who had only recently become Breed lovers. One of whom was Liza Johnson.
She and Liza had visited once or twice since her Breed lover, Stygian Black, had brought her to the hotel for protection. Though the attack on her previously had caused more stringent protective measures to be taken, it might be possible to meet with her now.
Isabelle Martinez, the other Breed lover, was actually a relation. They were second cousins and close friends, though Isabelle hadn’t been very social since the attack that was made on her as well.
Being a Breed lover wasn’t exactly a safe position to have.
“Find out what you can, Whisper,” the warrior sighed heavily as she watched him thoughtfully. “And quickly, if you don’t mind. If Wyatt’s contact has his warrior’s confidence, then they could reveal all our identities. And I don’t believe I’d enjoy being hauled into Breed headquarters and interrogated by the bogeyman of the Breeds.”
She couldn’t blame him for that one.
“As quickly as possible,” she promised. “It may take a few days to make contact with my own sources, though.”
“I’ll look forward to your report.” He nodded.
“Just don’t hold your breath,” she sighed.
He chuckled. “Never.” He started to turn away before pausing and turning back to her. “I heard you’ve been trying to find out where Kandy disappears when she can’t be found.”
She had nearly asked him to help her when she began looking but had rejected it. She was certain Kandy wasn’t in any trouble, but she could sense something wrong.
“Do you know where she’s at?” Gypsy clenched her fingers on the edge of the counter as she prayed she’d been right.
“Mark’s grave,” he answered. “Maybe you should join her, Gypsy. Perhaps it’s time to see the past from a new perspective.”
Gypsy didn’t move as he turned and disappeared into her bedroom, knowing that joining her sister at that lonely, desolate place was something she couldn’t do.
Not now.
Perhaps not ever.
Something inside her tightened to the point that pain lanced her heart, drawing a ragged sob from her chest.
She didn’t cry.
She never cried.
She’d shed all her tears the night Mark had fallen to the ground, staring back at her with such bleak sorrow.
His face flashed before her as her fists jerked up, pressing into her closed eyes as she fought against the image she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.
Her stomach churned with memories she kept buried until these flashing moments of weakness, of agonizing realization. She couldn’t breathe, and her throat felt so tight that swallowing nearly had her retching.
Why? Why had he told her that?
She would have preferred to just not know where Kandy was disappearing to and why she was staying out so late.
God, why was her sister doing that?
Why was she going to that place?
Gypsy hated that piece of ground.
She refused to go near it now, wouldn’t even drive past it whenever her destination called for it. She always took an alternate route.
She couldn’t bear the thought of looking over to that beautiful rise to see the black onyx stone that marked it.
“Why?” Before she could suppress the shattered scream inside her, it escaped her lips as her hand gripped a glass vase on the shelf next to her, which she threw with enough force to launch it across the room. “Damn you, why?”
Enraged, knowing she couldn’t bear the walls closing in on her, she turned and made her way from her apartment and into the darkness.
Where secrets hid.
...
The haunting, hollow cry of the young woman hiding in the apartment across from the sheltered copse of trees and the shadows where he hid had Dane grimacing with regret.
She was one of his greatest failures, he thought regretfully. Her brother was his greatest. How in God’s name had he not been able to anticipate the betrayal that killed Mark McQuade, and in nine years of searching, why hadn’t he found the bastard who had betrayed the young man and allowed that child to carry the blame?
It haunted him, knowing that whoever had turned McQuade’s identity over to the Genetics Council wasn’t the Coyote Breed who had died for it, though he had been no less guilty. The man who had destroyed that child’s life had gotten away clean, at least for now.
Dane stared at the apartment, aching for the loss he hadn’t been able to stop as a shadow shifted at the side of the building, then disappeared.
Remaining silent, Dane caught sight of the warrior again seconds later, moving toward him. He watched as his contact paused and removed the thin painted mask he wore before folding it and shoving it into his pocket.