Rule watched as Jonas’s gaze flicked to Dane before he shook his head warily, warning the hybrid from saying more. The truth was in the director’s eyes, though, as they met Rule’s once again.
“I didn’t touch her,” Rule snapped as he turned on Dane again. “What the fuck kind of monster do you take me for? To suggest I’d touch a child in such a way?”
Surprise flickered in the icy green eyes. “I don’t believe you mated her. I said you marked her. You found a way to have your scent placed on her, and it stuck. Just as nature intended it to.”
“The hell—”
“You gave the female enforcer present there your shirt to put on her as we pulled those Coyotes off her body. You collected her blanket and handed it to the enforcer who brought it in to her,” Jonas broke in. “He’s not lying, Rule. Even I sensed your claim on her that night.”
Rule shook his head in confusion. “I only saw her for a moment.”
They all turned to him then.
“When?” It was Lawe who asked the question roughly. “You were never in the cavern other than those first moments.”
“The hell I wasn’t,” Rule snarled back. “I was there long enough that the scent of her pain was like an insult to my senses. It was my weapon that fired, along with Jonas’s, and killed Grody. I saw what they were going to do to her. Do you think I stayed out of the cavern? That I’m not intelligent enough to know how to direct cleanup and keep my eye on what the hell is going on as well?”
He’d shot before he’d even processed what was going on.
That huge fucking Coyote had been between a child’s thighs as she screamed for her brother. Those jagged, wrenching screams of rage and pain had been more than the animal inside him could allow. Two others held her down while two more waited behind their leader to have their turn with her.
Rule barely remembered those moments. Seeing the horror of it, the scent of her pain and fear, the agonizing scent of her self-blame and terror that had wrapped around her like a living blanket, had enraged him.
He’d taken out two of the Coyotes before the other shots had been fired.
“Hell, I didn’t even realize—” Jonas shook his head, staring at Rule as though seeing him for the first time. “When I first realized she’d been claimed, even I was unaware it was you for a while.”
“I didn’t fucking claim her,” he snapped. “She was a child.”
What did they take him for anyway?
Rule scratched at the irritating little itch beneath his tongue by rubbing it against his teeth again.
Fuck this.
He’d had enough.
He turned, stalking off into the parking lot and heading for the secured parking area where he’d left the Dragoon he’d driven in the night before.
“Where the fuck are you going?” It was Lawe, moving in beside him, who dared to ask that question.
Rule paused long enough to snarl out, “To get my fucking mate.”
His mate?
To ensure that the cackling South African bastard with a death wish didn’t make the mistake of touching what wasn’t his to touch. Because Dane’s death could cause Jonas more problems than he caused the director breathing.
“It may be too late, Rule.” His brother caught at his shoulder, forcing him to a stop despite the animal snarling inside him. “Listen to me, dammit, I don’t know what you did to her, what you said to her, but the woman who left here tonight was not the woman who went up with you. Whatever happened, she was . . .” Lawe breathed out roughly. “It was like you broke something.”
Rule’s jaw tightened. “She’s still the same woman. I didn’t break anything, dammit. She’s pissed.”
“She’s not pissed,” Lawe denied in confusion. “You changed her, Rule. You took something from her, and I don’t know if you can fix it.”
Jerking from his brother’s grip, he threw a disgruntled snarl his way before turning and moving more quickly than before for the Dragoon. Lawe was wrong, he had to be wrong. Gypsy would forgive him, she wouldn’t have a choice.
She was his mate.
CHAPTER 16
The Unknown had trained her once they’d realized they couldn’t control her. As Gypsy stepped to the window that looked out on her parents’ home, she had only a second to wonder at the instinct they’d used to prepare her for any eventuality. Because Breeds were slipping around her apartment like shadowed wraiths.
Quickly pulling the satellite phone she’d safely stored in a hidden pocket of her dress, she dialed her contact’s number.
“Whisper?” he answered before the first ring had completed.
“Extraction needed from primary residence,” she requested softly. “Importance classified as immediate.”
“Negative. Extraction denied.”
Denied?
She couldn’t have heard correctly.
“Breeds are surrounding the primary residence,” she fought to speak, her throat tightening in near fear. “Extraction imperative.”
“Extraction denied, Whisper,” he answered again, this time, more gently. “You slept with Breaker. You’re marked as his mate.”
She was barely aware of her head shaking slowly, denial ripping through her senses at the knowledge that no extraction would be forthcoming.
“What? . . .”
“You were told no lovers for a reason. Take a human lover and his prejudice could prejudice you. A Breed lover, and the chances of becoming mated and giving that lover complete loyalty was far too high. This is the last time this number will be answered.”
“You promised,” she retorted, her voice hoarse. “You said you would never desert me . . .”
“I said I would always listen to my voice mail. You didn’t just take a lover, Whisper. You made certain I can’t interfere. Not for a Breed mate,” he informed her, his voice soft, though without mercy. “The Breeds coming for you were sent by your lover. Our protection is no longer required.”
The line disconnected.
Gypsy didn’t pause to think.
In a matter of seconds the dress was lying on her bed in a heap of rich material as she dug into the side of her mattress and pulled the black skin suit she used to slip through the night when she herself didn’t want to be seen.
Pulling the tough material of the form-fitting pants and long-sleeved shirt on, she slipped the scent blocker from a hidden pocket, tucked it quickly under her tongue and hoped she had enough time for it to take effect.
She was praying they weren’t expecting her to leave the apartment and weren’t watching for her. If they were, as well trained as they were, then her chances of escaping would be limited. And she was betting they would be watching for her.
Was that why Rule had jumped from her?
Had he somehow sensed or scented something that gave her away? Had she somehow managed to leave her scent behind the night she had searched his rooms? Whatever she had done, if she had done anything, there was no doubt no chances would be taken in their effort to take her now, if she was indeed his mate.
She’d heard whispers of mating, though not since Jonas Wyatt and his men had arrived in Window Rock.
Mating was forever, it was told. White-hot sexual need, blinding hunger, complete loyalty. Not a single Breed wife, lover or so-called mate had ever given the secrets of the Breeds to anyone willing to tell them.
Each one had fallen easily beneath her Breed’s spell.
She sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for them. She was going to get the hell out of there and get out fast. She had never depended upon her contact or the Unknown to ensure her safety. Mark had taught her better than that. He had died awaiting help, awaiting extraction. She’d always sworn she would never make the same mistake.
Less than a minute later she was moving silently down the narrow, dusty steps set between the walls, a little hidden access her brother had shown her in the old store when she was barely a teenager. This was the reason why she had taken the second-floor apartment rather than the first. There was no access to the staircase from the first floor. And no way to know that it led to a small tunnel that exited on the same small street where the only other person who might help her lived.