Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 19

Stygian's gaze jerked back to her as two Breeds moved past them and began prepar- ing the bodies for transport.

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"What did you say?" he growled.

Liza turned her gaze up to him. "Until a week ago," she said faintly, "this was my bed- room. I wanted to paint the walls in Isa- belle's former room before I moved in, and we weren't able to get it done quickly. Claire was sleeping on the couch until we finished it. I just finished moving in days ago." She had to swallow before she could go on. "They were coming after me again, weren't they, Stygian?"

She could feel it. Her stomach was tight with dread, her chest clenched with panic.

"They've been after you since before the morning Diane Broen found you on that jog- ging trail," he agreed. "We warned you of that, Liza. That morning, we warned you that you were a target."

"But it doesn't make sense,"

she whispered. "Stygian, I can't help them get whatever they want. I don't even know what they want. Why come after me?"

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Gripping her arm, Stygian moved her care- fully into the living room, where Chelsea, Ashley, Emma and Shiloh were waiting.

Chelsea moved to join them, though after a quick, whispered comment from Ashley, hes- itated before she stepped back to the other three girls.

"Stygian, what the h.e.l.l is going on?" she demanded again, keeping her voice low, quiet.

"I'm not certain yet, Liza." A quick shake of his head had her realizing how his hair flowed, like a warrior's, around his face.

Falling to his broad shoulders, the raven black strands looked like living threads of coa.r.s.e silk.

Even now, amidst a danger she hadn't ex- pected and had no idea how to deal with, all she wanted to do was touch him. Have him touch her.

She wanted his arms around her, because suddenly, she felt so d.a.m.ned alone and so 267/862.

adrift in a world she had no idea how to understand.

Nothing made sense any longer.

"Come here." As though he had read her mind, sensed her need, as though somehow those incredible primal senses he possessed were able to see into the heart of the woman and the fear clogging her mind, his arms were around her and he was wrapping her close to the warmth of his body.

She hadn't realized how chilled she had become, how cold she was. She hadn't real- ized how much she needed his body heat to still the ice slowly moving through her system.

"Oh G.o.d, Stygian." Holding her arms between their bodies, her fingers clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, over the rea.s.suring beat of his heart, she let that shudder of terror have its way.

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It tore through her, shaking her until she felt weak, pulling several tears from her eyes despite her attempt to hold them back.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered, almost terrified to let the words free. "Please, tell me what's happening."

She felt as though she were tearing apart inside, twisting into so many directions that nothing made sense anymore.

The sparring match and the sudden re- lease of the abilities she had been fighting so hard to hide.

Claire's screams and her reaction, so out- side the realm of what she had been trained for so far.

None of it made sense. None of it meshed with the world she knew and understood.

"We'll figure it out, baby." His head bent over hers, the endearment whispered against her ear as he all but rocked her, easing the terrible fears tearing through her. "I don't 269/862.

know what's going on yet, but I promise, we're going to figure it out."

Stygian held her as close to his own body as he could, trying to share his body heat, to warm the icy chill of her flesh as she shivered and shuddered in his arms.

Glancing over her head to Ashley, he mouthed the word blanket, concerned with the unusual cold attacking her.

No doubt it was her reaction to the shock tearing through her, but the severity was concerning him. And it was concerning Chelsea as well.

The other girl was on the phone; if he wasn't mistaken, she was talking, if not to her uncle, the president of the Navajo Na- tion, then to her father, Terran Martinez.

There would be no time to have the blood and saliva samples taken from Claire Martinez that Jonas wanted, in the hospital by certified technicians who could testify to 270/862.

having collected it, before the Navajo healers reached her.

It wouldn't surprise Stygian to learn the healers were waiting at the hospital. There were forces definitely determined to stand between the Breeds, and Liza and Claire.

Fortunately, Rule had raced her straight to the heli-jet and would take the samples him- self before arriving at the hospital, just to ensure they were collected.

It wouldn't be exactly what was needed, as the supplies needed wouldn't be in the heli- jet. But what was there might be enough for Jonas to collect those samples needed for the deep-level DNA testing.

As Ashley stepped forward with the blanket and helped Stygian wrap it around Liza, she quickly drew his attention.

"Unable to heli-jet," Ashley whispered, her voice low enough that he doubted Liza heard her. "Navajo intercepted Rule. Transport is 271/862.

by Navajo Nation law enforcement with Rule and Dog following to ensure arrival."

Stygian's brows lifted.

Now that was d.a.m.ned unusual. So much for getting samples in the heli-jet.

But it wasn't the first time it had happened.

Getting Breed doctors in to take care of Isabelle Martinez after her attempted abduc- tion by Holden Mayhew had been nearly impossible.

Like Liza, he was beginning to wonder just what the f.u.c.k was going on.

Tightening his arms around the woman he knew in his soul was his mate, and swallow- ing the taste of the hormone easing from the glands beneath his tongue, Stygian lifted her gently into his arms and moved to the bed- room Chelsea had informed Emma was Liza's.

He wanted her away from the commotion and the knowledge of the dead bodies being 272/862.

removed from Claire's room. He wanted her calm and warm and able to talk.

He wanted to know why his mate was sud- denly attracting Genetics Council Coyotes and soldiers when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for the first time in his life, someone was exactly as she seemed.

Faults.

A dark past.

Mistakes made that he knew caused her pain now.

It was all there.

And she would be all his.

Soon.

CHAPTER 9.

She had to be dreaming.

Liza pinched the tender flesh on the inside of her arm.

f.u.c.k, that hurt.

Looking down at the mark, she glared at the reddened area of skin the small wound had left.

Okay, so a pinch could actually hurt in a dream. She would go with that.

What else could prove it was a dream?

When she was younger, she had tricks she had used, just to a.s.sure herself that she was actually alive and not just a figment of someone's imagination.

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Or one of her parents' nightmares.

She'd picked at her cuticles until they were raw.

That had always a.s.sured her she was actu- ally a real person.

She looked at her nails.

d.a.m.n, her cuticles looked good too. Nice and healthy in ways they hadn't been when she was a teenager.

What else could she do?

There wasn't a lot left. After all, there came a point when she had to admit she was either asleep or awake. Surely she would reach that point soon.

If it hurt, it was supposed to be real.

Right?

She could kiss Stygian, some demonic imp suggested silently. Just kiss him hard and deep and see if that mating stuff was true.

If it was, then that would a.s.sure her she was alive.

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"Liza?" Looking up from where she sat on the comfortable couch in the suite of the hotel the Breeds were pretty much staking claim to, she stared at the cup of coffee Rachel Broen-Wyatt, Jonas Wyatt's wife, was setting on the table in front of her. "Here's some coffee. It will help with the shock."

Shock? They thought she was in shock?

Well, G.o.d bless their hearts.

Actually, they had no idea how little things had ever shocked her.

It wasn't the shock, it was that sense that this simply could not be happening. She couldn't be a target.

She was an anonymous person.

She was a n.o.body.

There was no reason in the world that the infamous Genetics Council should want to target her. Not even for information on the underground network she was a part of.

Until the day before, the Breeds hadn't been certain she was part of it.

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Liza accepted the coffee. It was creamy and sweet. Strangely enough, just the way she liked it.

"Are you okay?" Rachel knelt beside her, dark eyes filled with abject concern.

"Fine." She swallowed tightly before lifting the cup to sip at the hot, sweet liquid again.

It was warming her insides.

A little, anyway.

But it wasn't easing that sense of unreality, and she really wasn't in the mood to pinch herself again.

Besides, the director's wife was watching, and that probably wouldn't look rational in her eyes.

"I'm very sorry about this, Liza," Rachel said softly, her gaze heavy with guilt. "I hate the danger you're in now."

"What do you have to do with it?" It made very little sense that this woman would feel guilt for something she hadn't orchestrated.