“Dammit, Gypsy,” Rule growled as she swore she heard Lawe mutter, “Thank God.”
“And,” she continued. “I request leniency for the crime committed by my parents until an explanation is given and possible exoneration based upon circumstance is heard by the Breed Ruling Cabinet.”
Jonas’s eyes widened. She had just given herself away and she knew it. She shouldn’t have known about this law, any more than she had known about the one Brannigan had informed her of.
Jonas nodded slowly as she watched Rule moving from the corner of her eyes, prowling, stalking closer to her as though she would bolt at any second.
And God knew, she wanted nothing more than to bolt.
She wanted to sink into the pit of pain and rage that she’d held back for nine years, but first she had to finish what she’d just started.
“Agreed, Ms. McQuade.” It was the Prime Alpha, Callan Lyons, who accepted her request.
“Agreed,” Jonas repeated.
“And I request their release and a gag placed on any announcement of their crimes until that hearing can be held, with an offer of information in exchange for such and a promise to ensure that they arrive promptly at the hearing to answer for their crimes should exoneration not be made after they’re questioned.”
“I’m not much of a liar,” she whispered, remembering her brother laughing at how easily she gave herself away. “It’s better if you just make certain no one knows what you’re doing; then they don’t have questions you can’t answer, right?”
“Stop this,” Rule snarled furiously as she edged away from him, the intent in his gaze assuring her that he would stop her now if he could. Stop her, until he learned what she had to exchange before anyone could have a chance to hold her to it.
“I won’t let you destroy yourself for me.” Her gaze blurred from the tears that filled her eyes, Gypsy pressed her clenched fists into her stomach, nearly heaving with the pain tearing through her. “I won’t be the cause of it. Never again, Rule.”
He snarled furiously as Lawe suddenly caught hold of his arm, pulling him to a stop before he could reach her and quickly whispering in his ear.
She turned back to Jonas quickly. “I don’t know the identity of my contact,” she stated, trying to breathe past the tightness of her chest. “But not very long ago, I saw the two men he met with outside my apartment. Give me forty-eight hours, Jonas, and I swear if you don’t have what you’re seeking to save your daughter, then I’ll give you the identity of those two men and you can ask them yourself.”
“No.” The fury in Rule’s voice surprised her, causing her to jerk in protest as fear began to surge inside her again at the sight of Jonas shaking his head.
Oh God, she was sure he would take the offer. Certain she could save her parents another way.
“Do you actually believe I saved your life nine years ago to watch you throw it away by meeting with only God knows who and possibly getting both yourself and your mate killed?” Jonas snarled then, allowing the blood, and the breath, to rush back to her head in a dizzying wave. “I believe I’ve had enough experience with headstrong mates and their stubborn-assed Breed males to know for a certain fact that a mess like that is nothing I want a part of this year, thank you very much. Think again, Whisper.”
She knew that code name she was given was a very bad idea.
She shook her head desperately. “All I have to do is send a message.” She was giving that message now, and she and Dane Vanderale both knew it. “Give me forty-eight hours. I won’t leave Rule’s suite, and you can fill the damned place with Breeds if that’s what you want. But I swear to you, Jonas, one way or the other, you’ll have what answers I can give you when that time is up. Please,” she whispered, knowing she was losing her grip on the tears that had been building for so many years. “They’re still my parents. And I still love . . . both of them.” Her breathing hitched as the regret slamming through her system nearly stole her breath and weakened her knees with the uncertainty of what he would do now. “Jonas, please, they’re still my parents.”
She didn’t dare glance at Dane or at Dog where he sat near the South African. And she sure had no intention of meeting Rule’s eyes as he stood stock-still by his brother, Lawe. If she did, she would give them all away and she knew it. The second she did, Rule would know it. He knew her too well, she realized.
And knowing both Dane and Dog as well as their reputations, they would find a way to ensure that Jonas was satisfied without once sacrificing their own identities.
And she needed to do this without sacrificing the promise she had made to the man who had trusted her brother so implicitly that he had given a fifteen-year-old on a fast track to death’s door a reason to live.
But more importantly, she had to do it without placing the burden of her parents’ punishments on the chance she was being given to finally have a life of her own. A life outside the guilt, outside the lies and outside the traitorous acts of a man who had attempted to destroy it to begin with.
The same man who had betrayed her brother nine years ago and used her to ensure his death.
CHAPTER 26
LOBO REEVER’S ESTATE
THAT SAME NIGHT
“I know who you are,” the Breed hanging from the wall, his toes barely touching the floor, hissed with what he must have thought was an intimidating sound.
Gideon, Graeme to those at the Reever estate, smiled. It meant playtime.
And he sorely did enjoy playtime.
He ignored the Coyote for the moment, laying out a few tools he would need later. A few pliers of differing sizes and uses, a heavy hammer, ball gag—sometimes the bastards just didn’t stop screaming.
He was searching for a particular knife he’d lent Khi—Khileen as others called her—Lobo’s stepdaughter, during the interrogation of the Coyote’s partner two weeks before, when the satellite phone he carried at his hip vibrated insistently.
Pulling the phone from the holster, he stared at the number and grimaced in irritation. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with this right now, but damn if he wasn’t fucking obligated.
Finding his mate might have started the process of returning his sanity, but a few individuals had been instrumental in completing the process and making certain he found his way to Lobo Reever’s ranch with enough credentials and references to ensure he was hired on the estate.
“Yeah?” He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t take long. A useless hope in most cases where this hybrid was concerned.
“The jig is up, old chap.” Amused and inherently irritating, that foreign accent cloaked in a lazy drawl never failed to raise his hackles.
This time, they didn’t just rise, they started doing a little jig on the back of his neck.
“What jig?” he growled, though he had a feeling he knew exactly what the “jig” was.
“Contact Jonas,” he was ordered, the voice firming with the demand. “Or we’re all going to be in damned hot water, with more Breeds after our asses than we know what to do with. And I’m sincerely not in the mood to have to explain getting caught to my sire.”
Graeme snorted at the order. “Let me guess, you managed to fuck this up before I could finish saving that kid’s life? Why doesn’t that surprise me, you little prick?”
Why didn’t that surprise him?
This wasn’t the first time he’d worked with the bastard, and though the hybrid was usually damned competent, there were times, highly inconvenient times, when he had a habit of throwing a monkey in the works and letting it play hell with the plan.
Graeme always thought it better to just shoot the fucking monkey, but what the hell did he know? He was just the Breed who managed to hide right under everyone’s nose. And how did he accomplish that, he asked with silent sarcasm. Let’s see, he stayed the fuck out everyone else’s business maybe?