Breeds: Megan's Mark Part 20

"Control, this is Deputy Fields. I need a copter in the air ASAP. I repeat, I need a copter in the air, position Area Six-fifteen, Section A, heading to Twenty-four. Two cycles, enemy fire. Come back, Control," Megan yelled into the link as Braden fired behind them.

"Son of a f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h, Megan." Lance was screaming into the link in less than a second, the fury pounding through his voice bringing a smile to her face. "Copters lifting off in three secs, destination Sixfifteen, A. How many?"

"Two cycles, one Dragoon on the north side of Casper's Pa.s.s, approximate pa.s.s near twenty-four, R." She called out the road number she suspected the Dragoon would use to intercept them. "Cycles carrying automatic fire on board,, Dragoon packing launchers." - "Get in range, you jackal-a.s.sed b.a.s.t.a.r.ds." Braden was yelling as he fired, his voice feral, enraged.

"Copter's ETA to intercept three minutes," Lance yelled, the sound of his Raider whining through the link a.s.suring her he was moving fast toward them. "I'm five minutes from your intercept point, copter B moving in ahead of me. Don't shoot the friendlies, G.o.d dammit."

"Not me, cuz," she yelled back, twisting the wheel as the hollow tw.a.n.g of bullets pelting close to the vulnerable outside security port warned her that they weren't playing with dummies. "Get these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds off my back. They know my weakness here, Lance."

"Moving in, Megan. We're moving in. Copter B is closing in fast,'' John Briggins, the department's best pilot, reported in.

"Right!" Braden screamed out the new direction.

Megan threw the wheel to the right, cursing as the Raider jolted, slamming forward from the blast of the minirocket that exploded too d.a.m.ned close.

"Rocket fire. We have fire. Cycles equipped with shortrange rockets, look out for the dust."

She twisted the wheel, holding down the gas as she and the Raider bounced from the sharp decline to flat terrain.

"Prepare for acceleration." She hit the b.u.t.ton, praying for just a little more. Just enough speed to clear them from the short-range rockets.

"Head for pa.s.s two-zero-four," Briggins ordered briskly through the link.

"We're seconds away. Hang on."

"f.u.c.kers. Sons of b.i.t.c.hes." Braden was cursing furiously as he sprayed gunfire from the back window.

"Those cycles have security shields, Meg. Punch the gas. Punch the gas."

"Gas out;' she yelled back. The accelerator was dead.

"Lay that foot to the f.u.c.king floor. We have one closing in, prepare for fire_ Right. Right."

She flipped the wheel, curses raging as she felt the rocket fire. Too close. Too f.u.c.king close.

"Hang on_" The rocket cleared the vehicle, striking to the side, the resulting explosion throwing the Raider through the air, flipping it, then throwing it back to earth with a bone-jarring force that had Megan seeing stars.

Impact protocol kicked in, the padded levers that suddenly extended from the seats taking the force of the blow and holding them in their seats. But nothing could compensate for the violence, or the jolt.

The Raider landed on its side, tires spinning as she heard a roar. Furious, animal rage. The sound echoed in her head as time seemed to slow down, moving with a distant, ethereal quality that had her fighting to breathe.

She searched desperately for the release control to the seats, grunting as the inflated belt and padded grips released her and dumped her against the pa.s.senger side of the vehicle.

Gunfire still raged as she shook her head, fighting to clear it while feeling for her gun.

There. Her fingers curled around the grip as she began to crawl to the opened back window. Braden was no longer in his seat; the security belts had been torn loose of their moorings. She had to find Braden.

And who the h.e.l.l was roaring?

She fell from the jeep window, her face slapping the ground as her senses fought to right themselves. One of the motorcycles lay on its side, the rider stretched bonelessly on the ground, his neck turned at an odd angle, No danger there.

Another roar split the air as the steady whap whap whap of the helicopter came in closer, swirling dust and dirt in the air as she finally found Braden.

Her eyes widened. He was b.l.o.o.d.y, his shirt tom from his back as he grappled with the other cyclist. Not that there was much fight there. As she watched in amazement, Braden jumped, twisting in midair as one arm came around the other man's neck, the opposite palm cupping the large head. A quick jerk, and the man was dead before Braden landed on his feet.

His head went back, his lips opening as another roar filled the air, his sharp incisors flashing in the sunlight.

She struggled to her feet as Braden's head lowered, his gaze finding her automatically. The golden color gleamed from his tanned face, the feral expression slicing through her consciousness as she stared back at him, watching as he began to stalk slowly toward her.

Dangerous. Primal. He strode to her, sweat, blood and dust gleaming across his naked chest, his hair flowing around him, his muscles bunched, tight.

When he reached her he didn't jerk her to him. His hands went to her shoulders, lightly, moving over her efficiently as she swayed before him. A second later, obviously rea.s.sured that she was in one piece, he then pulled her into his arms, lowered his head to her shoulder and bit her.

Son of a f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h. This biting s.h.i.t was going to have to stop.

She struggled in his arms, only barely aware of the buzz of loud voices behind her. Lance was yelling over her father, the first argument she had ever heard between them.

There was growling in her ear, the sound rough and too primitive.

"Let me go, you growling, sharp-toothed, SOB." She snarled as he finally raised his head, a drop of blood-her blood-clinging to his lips.

Adrenaline was surging through her body, arousal in the midst of triumph, success and overwhelming excitement.

And he had to pull the alpha claim-his-mate c.r.a.p. She didn't think so.

Before she was even aware of the thought her arm c.o.c.ked back, fingers tightening in a fist and slamming toward his face. He jerked back, but not fast enough. Her fist connected with his eye, not as strong as it could have been-after all, she had just flipped a Range Raider, not exactly child's play there. But hard enough that she knew it was going to bruise.

"Neanderthal," she bit out as he stared back at her in surprise. "Keep those vampire teeth off my f.u.c.king neck before I have them extracted."

She jerked her shirt over her shoulder. To be fair, he had bit her there, nor her neck. But she wasn't in the mood to be fair. She stared around, her frowning gaze settling on the two dead riders.

Propping her hands on her hips, she ignored the incredulous male expressions around her and snapped out furiously, "You couldn't even save me one, could you, Purr-boy? Just one. Was that too d.a.m.ned much to ask?"

He breathed in slowly, easily, then nodded.

"Yep, cupcake. In this instance, one would have been way too many. Count yourself lucky I let you drive. I promise, it will be the last time." If his expression was anything to go by, the ride had been as wild for him as it was for her.

Exhilaration glittered in his eyes with the same strength that it throbbed in her veins.

She smiled, a slow, wide curve of her lips, before encompa.s.sing the silent men in her gaze.

"Today is a good day." She nodded with a laugh. "Yep. d.a.m.ned fine. Now, where's that f.u.c.king Dragoon"

Chapter Sixteen.

She was like that d.a.m.ned bunny Braden had seen in the old vids they used to watch in the Labs. What was it called?

The little pink froufrou thing with the drum? Something to do with a battery? An Energizer Bunny? Kept going and going and going_ She was making him dizzy. h.e.l.l, that flip had d.a.m.ned near scrambled his brains, he didn't need a fist upside his head to help him along. And add to that the fact that until she disappeared into one of the bedrooms with the Breed doctor, Elyiana Morrey, she had been bouncing around like a Mexican jumping bean.

Not that he blamed her for hitting him. He still didn't understand that bite he had given her. The compulsion to do it had been so primitive, so overwhelming he hadn't even thought to ignore it. He had bitten her, then just as quickly began to lick the two small punctures he had made in her shoulder. He had marked her, and some primitive instinct had demanded that he force her to submit to him, in at least some small way.

Not that Megan would ever submit. She was as much an alpha personality as he was himself, which explained the fist she had used against him. She knew what that bite meant, every bit as much as he did. A claiming. An attempt to force some measure of control over her, if nothing else, in the certainty that she was still his. That the hormone that bound them together would continue to fill her system, and make her hunger for him just as much as she hungered for justice and for adventure.

Now midnight was rolling around and all he wanted to do was sleep away the pressure in his head. Right after he got rid of the pressure in his d.i.c.k.

"Braden, we couldn't find the Dragoon." Jonas stepped out on the porch where Braden was nursing a cold beer and a pounding headache.

He pushed his fingers through his hair wearily as he sat perched on top of the hard rubber doghouse Megan's mutt had occupied when he first arrived at the house. The top of the roof was flat enough to sit on, the side of it slanted enough to brace his feet on. He bet the inside would hold him and Megan both, let alone that wolf-sized mutt she called her dog.

"Where the h.e.l.l do you hide a Desert Dragoon?" Braden shook his head. He knew the technology the Breed community now possessed. They could find the proverbial needle in a haystack, but they couldn't find a heavily armed Dragoon in the middle of a f.u.c.king desert?

"It could be hidden in any one of hundreds of caves and caverns." Jonas stepped closer, his silver eyes looking d.a.m.ned odd in the dark. What the h.e.l.l was he, anyway? He smelled like a lion, but Braden was d.a.m.ned if he acted like one.

"I don't like this, Jonas. Those weren't Coyotes, they were Special Forces trained and some of the best I've gone up against. They had the weapons and the vehicles in place for an ambush with no idea when we'd be heading out there. They knew the route we'd take and Megan swears only her family could have known of it. And I can't believe Lance would try to hurt her. In any way."

"Jacobs isn't under suspicion." Jonas affirmed his own thoughts. "I agree with your earlier a.s.sessment though. There's something else going on here, but I'll be d.a.m.ned if I can figure it out."

Neither could he. Braden had gone over the information backward and forward and still hadn't found the answer. It would have been easier to take Megan out in a hundred different ways. Why wait? Why attack at the canyon when it would have been much more efficient to do so on the way there? It was almost as though they were being tested. As though Megan was being tested. But for what?

"She needs to go to sanctuary, Braden." Jonas's voice was quiet, firm.

"She might not survive the next attack."

Braden propped his elbows on his knees and stared into the dark gla.s.s of the bottle he held. The heli-jet sat a short distance from the house. while several teams of Felines kept silent watch. He could sense them in the darkness, watching the house and those within it.

It was like that at Sanctuary. Callan and his people did their best to keep the mountain more of a haven than a compound, but the ready watchfulness of the Breeds on alert could be felt at any time of the day or night. No one slacked off, no one forgot the fact that the Genetics Council and the Purist societies working against them were just waiting for the slightest break in their defenses.

It wasn't a prison, but d.a.m.n if he didn't feel just as hemmed in there. It would be worse for Megan. He saw her today. For the first time since she had run headlong into his life, he had really seen her. Her eyes shining, the fierce fire of battle blazing in them. She lived for adventure. Loved the fight, the racing adrenaline, the triumph.

Just as he did.

And he had seen something else, something he had only realized in the past hours. Megan did have the proper barriers, those that kept out the harmful effects and allowed the information through. She had used them instinctively today, racing across that mountain like a daredevil from h.e.l.l, instinctively turning the wheel, steering clear of the worst of the gunfire as well as the natural obstacles. With training she could learn to use those barriers as well as her talents with lethal effectiveness. She could be the perfect partner; she would be the perfect mate. But she would never survive Sanctuary.

He lifted the beer, finishing it off lazily before twirling the bottle between his fingers.

"She won't go," he finally said softly.

"Or you won't let her?" Jonas asked, his voice dark. "She'll die in this desert, Braden, and you'll go with her. Let her make the choice."

"Do you think I don't know her, Jonas?" He kept his voice low, pushed back the anger that the other man would question, and tried to remind himself that Jonas's job was to protect the Breed community as a whole. Megan was Braden's mate. Capable of birthing the future. That would definitely fall under the heading of protection.

"I think maybe you're not thinking this through," Jonas said carefully.

Braden felt a small spurt of amus.e.m.e.nt at the other man's comment. This wasn't the first time he had been accused of such a thing.

"I'll ask her." He owed her that.

He fingered the bruise at his eye. d.a.m.n, he was almost too scared not to give her the choice. Even when shaking on her feet that woman packed a wallop.

"Don't ask her, Braden." Jonas's voice hardened. "Pack her up and stick her a.s.s and yours in the heli-jet. We'll figure this out another way. Keep her safe."

Braden rolled the bottle between his hands before turning his head and staring up at the other man. Was he being selfish? Was his own need to be free overriding the need to protect his mate? His woman?

"Braden, they will kill her." Jonas's voice was harder now, more determined.

"I said I'll ask her." He leaned back against the house, staring out into the night. "You don't just tell a woman like that to do much of anything, Jonas." He grunted. "She'd cut your b.a.l.l.s off and throw them in your face."

He shook his head at the thought. She drove him crazy, made him so h.o.r.n.y he thought he was going to die, and she warmed him. G.o.d help him, she warmed every comer of his soul and he hadn't even realized it until that f.u.c.king Raider had flipped and those b.a.s.t.a.r.d soldiers had opened fire on the defenseless vehicle.

He had thrown himself at the first rider, snapping his neck before jumping for the second. Rage had boiled in his blood, a red haze of fury unlike anything he had known sweeping through him.

As he killed the second, she had pulled herself out of that d.a.m.ned Raider, staring back at him, dazed. Wobbling on her feet, but alive. And he had bit her.

He shook his head in confusion as he remembered the primal compulsion. It had surged from his gut, swept through his body and he had acted. Without thought, without remorse, his only instinct had been to lock his teeth into her vulnerable shoulder as the glands of his tongue spilled their rich hormone into the wound.

"What do you know about the Mating, Jonas? He had to fight to stay calm, even though calm had always been easy to attain, no matter the situation. "Why the h.e.l.l do I keep biting her?"

"Come to Sanctuary and we'll discuss it," Jonas suggested evenly.

The blatant blackmail had Braden staring back at him coldly. Jonas was a manipulative b.a.s.t.a.r.d, there was no doubting that. But Braden had no intention of letting him manipulate Megan.

"We've never fought, Jonas," Braden mused softly. "We've b.u.t.ted heads a time or two, but never really been at odds. Don't put us there now."

Tension thickened between them. Jonas was his supervisor. For the most part, Braden did his job and was usually in agreement with Jonas on how it should be done. Until now.

"Tell me what's going on, man." The rumbling growl in his throat was something he seemed to be doing often.

Something he had rarely done before. Megan was not a good influence on him. "And tell me now."

Jonas sighed roughly. "We're not sure yet, Braden. Too much is still unknown. The bite to the shoulder allows the hormone into the mate's body faster. We know that much. At the moment, that's all we know. But the Council scientists know this as well. They're dying to get their hands on a Breed mate. And they will, eventually."

They were testing them then. The soldiers that attacked them were Council based, Braden had no doubt of that. But now he was beginning to suspect that Megan's death wasn't all they wanted. They would suspect the Mating; it would be impossible not to if they were aware of the possibility.

Attempting to see if mates were more effective, if Megan's abilities were stronger in his presence, if she could be used against him or vice versa. It was the way the Genetics Council worked. They researched each strength and weakness, tested and tortured until the subjects were dead or just too d.a.m.ned numb to care if they lived or not.

Which meant the stakes were raised, as well as the danger.

Dr. Elyiana Morrey was a Breed with dark brown eyes and short dark brown hair. She was tall, nearly five-ten, with a compa.s.sionate expression and a hard-as-nails voice when things didn't go her way. But despite her likability, she made Megan uncomfortable.

"I need you at Sanctuary," the doctor said as she took the final vial of blood and packed it in her case.

"The samples aren't going to be enough soon. We need to keep a close watch on the Mating signs, compare them to the others."