Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 6

But that didn't explain the flash of some long-forgotten sensation attacking her arm.

The feel of phantom needles inserted into an arm so thin, already so bruised and abused, sent a shock wave of horror traveling through her so quickly that before she could react, it was gone.

What was that? It couldn't be a memory, because Liza knew she hadn't ever been so ill as a child.

The next photo was one of another young girl, though her illness wasn't as apparent.

Dark brown eyes and hair lay around her pale face. Her lips were cracked and dry, her gaze distant as though she were forcing her- self to see beyond the camera.

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She was living, but she wasn't really with them. They were desperate to pull her back.

What if she never came back? What if she went away inside herself and never re- turned to them? All the planning, all the deception and the lies would have been for nothing?

Liza felt her breath catch as she fought to hide the shock and fear that nearly overcame her. Clenching her fingers into fists and tucking them beneath the fold of her arms, she kept her gaze centered on the corner of the photos until the wave of disorientation receded.

But she couldn't keep her eyes from them for long.

There were pictures of the two girls togeth- er; then, there were pictures of the hairless girl with two adults Liza a.s.sumed were her parents.

The tall, broad male had a haunted look in his gaze, while the mother's face was filled 97/862.

with pain and love. They weren't staring at the camera; rather they were standing next to the hospital bed where their child lay sleeping.

Sleeping?

Or dead?

There were other pictures.

The two girls with two Breeds. It was obvi- ous because they were displaying their in- cisors in the pictures. In their eyes though, Liza could glimpse the h.e.l.l all four were clearly enduring.

Compa.s.sion filled her, as well as a sense of sorrow.

"Who are they?" Looking up at the direct- or, she had to refrain from rubbing at the chill that suddenly raced over her arms. "Will they be okay?"

Jonas gathered the photos together before replacing them in the file.

"They grew up," he stated. "The one with her parents is Honor Roberts. The leukemia 98/862.

she had was diagnosed as a particularly fast- growing and fatal illness. There is no known cure or procedure for remission, even now."

"The other girl was Fawn Corrigan. At two months of age she was near death, diagnosed with infant AIDS and given only weeks to live. As you saw in the photo, at age ten, she was still alive."

"But still ill," she stated.

"Not necessarily," he said. "Did you recog- nize any of them?"

"Why would I?" Her gaze jerked back to his with a hard frown. "The two girls were with two immature Breed males. There are no Breed males of that age in Window Rock that I'm aware of."

Tightening her stomach, she refused to al- low herself to think about them-or her reac- tion to the photos.

"Those pictures were taken more than a decade ago." The obvious impatience in his 99/862.

voice was reflected in the darkening swirls of gray in his eyes.

"Then why would I know them?" She glanced around the room at the Breeds gathered there before turning her gaze back to the director. "Why don't you just tell me what the h.e.l.l is going on here, Director Wy- att? That would be a h.e.l.l of a lot easier than the games you seem to so enjoy."

If she wasn't mistaken, he didn't particu- larly care for the fact that she called him on his habit of deliberately manipulating anyone and everyone he came in contact with.

Megan Fields Arness stepped forward.

"Liza, the point is that we're searching for the two girls. Finding them is of the highest importance to the Breeds, to ensure the Gen- etics Council doesn't acquire them for whatever research purposes they have in mind. There's nothing nefarious in the least in the Breeds' wish to find them."

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The knowledge that Megan would lie to her-probably was lying to her-had her fighting back the sting of tears.

She had known Megan most of her life.

Megan's grandfather and Isabelle, Chelsea, and Claire's were both part of the chiefs of the Six Tribes. Besides that, the Martinez family was a very close unit and socialized together often.

They were friends-or so she had thought.

Friends weren't supposed to lie to each other to this extent.

"Well, there's nothing nefarious in the least about the fact that I haven't seen or heard of them. But I would like to know what the h.e.l.l they have to do with me?" Liza stared back at Megan, meeting her gaze and wishing she could find that sense of calm that Megan seemed to hold in her dark brown eyes.

"Those girls are currently the focus of a search by the Genetics Council as well as the 101/862.

Breeds," Megan told her. "They were part of an experiment that lasted for more than a decade. The two girls and the two Breeds all survived but disappeared about ten years ago. We have to find them before the Genet- ics Council does."

And if the four had disappeared and never come forward, then it was apparent they didn't want to be found.

"Why?" Liza questioned her. "Why would you believe you have the right either to find them or to acquire them?"

d.a.m.n, she felt sorry for the former kids now being hunted by two such powerful, merciless forces.

"If we don't," Stygian said, stepping for- ward, his voice dark and rough, rasping over her senses like velvet, "then trust me, Ms.

Johnson, the Genetics Council will make d.a.m.ned sure they regret the fact that the Council found them rather than the Breeds."

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She had to physically restrain the shiver that wanted to race across her flesh at the sound of his voice caressing her senses. It reminded her of dark, wicked s.e.x.

Of sinning in the most pleasurable of ways.

Every cell in her body tingled at the sound.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s became swollen and heavy, her nipples taut and eager for touch. And between her thighs, her c.l.i.t throbbed in heightened alert as she suddenly became aware of the emptiness in her v.a.g.i.n.a.

d.a.m.n.

No man had the right to make a woman so aware of the fact that a male wasn't possess- ing her.

"Well, if I could help you, I would," she as- sured, stepping back carefully as he moved just behind Jonas Wyatt. "The fact is, though, that I can't. As I stated, I don't know them, nor do I know who they are."

Jonas pulled another file free.

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Opening it, he drew two photos free. The first was of one of the Breed boys in the former pictures. The second was obviously an "after" version.

Nothing could hold back the shudder that rushed up her spine at the changes in the boy to the man.

Stone-cold eyes the color of living amber stared out from the photo paper with a bril- liance that was almost terrifying when added to the Bengal stripes that crossed his face from his forehead, across his right eye, over the bridge of his nose and across his left cheek, over his jaw then around to the nape of his neck.

Where it went from there she wasn't certain.

The savagery of the mark, the primal qual- ity of his gaze and the inherent predatory in- tent would have been terrifying if it were in person rather than in a photo.

"What does he have to do with this now?"

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"Gideon Cross is searching for those wo- men the two girls became. His intent isn't to stop by and say h.e.l.lo, Ms. Johnson," Jonas warned her. "If you've followed the stories of Breed creation and their weaknesses, then I'm certain you've heard of psychotic emer- gent feral fever."

Liza nodded slowly.

"Gideon is suspected of having been thrown into level-five feral fever by the Gen- etics Council's experiments. And he's search- ing for those two women because he believes one of them is responsible for it. He won't bother questioning them. He'll strike out at both. He will kill them. And he won't care that they had nothing to do with his illness."

"Does one of them have anything to do with it?" she asked, her gaze lifting-not to Jonas but to the Breed behind him.

"Stygian?" Jonas spoke softly.

"Director?"

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"Do you want to answer Ms. Johnson's question?"

"She had nothing to do with it, Ms. John- son," Stygian answered. "Once feral fever has gone that far, nothing has any logic to it. She was there at the wrong place, at the wrong time, so he blames her for it. It's that simple."

She wanted him to keep talking. The sound of his voice was a caress to her senses, and she didn't want it to stop.

Still, she shook her head, forcing her gaze back to Wyatt's. "It doesn't change the fact that I don't know the girls, who they grew up to be or where they are. Neither do I have any information on the Breeds in those pic- tures. And even if I did, I doubt I would tell you, Mr. Wyatt."

She made certain the smile she gave him was just as mocking and confident as she could possibly make it.

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She didn't trust him. She had no intention of attempting to trust him. She'd heard far too many stories of Wyatt's games and at- tempts to interfere in the lives of those who came in contact with him.

"I can see your popularity precedes you, Jonas." Megan gave a light, easy laugh as Jo- nas pinned her with that odd, silvery gaze.

"So it would seem," Jonas drawled before turning back to Liza.

She stared up at him, refusing to back down despite the trepidation she could feel tightening her stomach.

"Can I leave now?" she asked.

"Stygian." Jonas's voice was low as Liza looked over his shoulder once again only to have her gaze caught and held by the Breed watching her from behind the director.

"Director," he answered Wyatt.

"Would you please escort Ms. Johnson home?"

"With pleasure."

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"Thank you." Jonas was smirking now, and the sight of it had an edge of panic tightening her throat rather than generating trep- idation in her stomach.

Her gaze narrowed on him. He was up to something. She could just feel it.

"Ms. Johnson." Stygian stepped around Jonas, his powerful arm reaching out to in- dicate the door. "This way."

With pleasure.

With one last wary glance at the supremely confident, satisfied look on the director's face, Liza turned and made her way to the door.

She could feel the big Breed behind her as she walked. Another Breed-this one she knew by the name of Rule Breaker-opened the door and stepped back.

Nodding to him, she left quickly, eager to put this particular experience behind her, get home and figure out what the h.e.l.l was going on.

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She couldn't help but think of those pic- tures: the images of the two girls, so obvi- ously in pain and filled with fear.

Especially the girl with her parents.

What kind of parents could turn their child over to monsters like the Genetics Council and just leave her with them? Alone? In pain?

Surely, those parents had to be just as cruel.

Just as monstrous.