Breeds: Megan's Mark Part 11

"The printout is being investigated," Lance snapped. "I will find out who accessed and printed it. It's just a matter of time."

"What's taking so long?" She shook her head in confusion. "The computers automatically log those pa.s.swords."

The voice that answered sent chills racing over Megan's flesh. "The pa.s.sword used was Sheriff Jacobs's."

Lance stared at her. She could feel the pain radiating from him, but also the protectiveness. Lance would never hurt her. She knew that just as she knew the sun would rise in the morning and night would come later.

"We have a problem then." She turned and looked at Jonas. She was seriously starting to dislike this one. "Someone has obviously managed to steal pa.s.swords."

"The sheriff a.s.sures us he doesn't write his pa.s.sword down or share it. He changes it weekly and uses strict privacy protocols on his computer."

Megan watched Jonas for long moments. Lance was still, quiet. And that wasn't a good sign. An explosion was brewing and it was one Megan didn't want to witness.

"Tell him to stop, Braden." She stared into the savage silver eyes as she spoke to the man behind her.

"Now."

"I'd like to hear an explanation myself, Megan."

She turned to Braden carefully. "I said now," she reminded him, keeping her voice soft, her fury throttled.

She didn't know the game Jonas Wyatt was playing, but she knew he was playing one, and he was using Lance to do it.

"I don't need your protection, Megan," Lance snapped then. "I'll find out"

"If you're still in this office." Jonas's voice was condescending. "Such mistakes are not just criminal, they are also incriminating, Sheriff Jacobs."

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h" Lance was out of his chair and halfway around the desk before Megan could step in front of him, placing her hand on his chest. But she jerked it back quickly. She stared down at her hand, feeling the sharp sensation of distaste at the touch before staring back up at Lance. "f.u.c.k 'im." She kept her voice soft as she let a small smile a.s.sure him of her trust. "We both know better, Lance. And I know you'll find the proof. Don't let him get to you."

"Dammit, Meg" He reached out, his hands gripping her shoulders, sending pulses of a painlike sensation that attacked her nerve endings.

She flinched back a second before Braden's surprising snarl filled the room and he pulled her away from her cousin.

"What the h.e.l.l?' Lance stared at her in shock. 'Meg, are you okay?"

He reached for her again, only to have Braden pull her quickly behind him, ignoring her struggles as he did so.

"Dammit, Braden"

"What the f.u.c.k is going on?' Lance's voice was filled with confusion. Anger. "Is she hurt?"

Megan forced her way back in front of Braden, her elbow stabbing into his hard stomach as he tried to stop her.

"Don't push me back behind you again." She stared up at him furiously.

"When I need you standing in front of me, I'll let you know."

The rumbled growl that came from his chest might have intimidated someone less p.i.s.sed off, Megan thought. But it did little to impress her.

Jonas s.h.i.+fted impatiently, drawing her gaze back to him.

"He won't allow another male to touch you, Miss Fields," Jonas snapped furiously. "Test him and you might get more than you've bargained for."

"I didn't ask you." She turned on him, enraged, aware of Lance watching her in surprise. "So you can just shut the h.e.l.l up."

"You didn't have to ask." His tight smile was cold and dangerous. "I was being nice by offering the information."

"Jonas, you're not exactly making sense," Braden pointed out, his voice not as lazy as before, but no less confused than Lance's had been. "And accusing Jacobs of betraying his cousin wasn't your brightest move." There was a question in his voice as he obviously chose to ignore the earlier statement regarding his possessiveness toward her.

"The evidence is there," Jonas pointed out. "The schedule comes from this office alone, no one else should have had access to it. The information we've managed to extract from the Coyote you captured indicates someone working from the inside. Jacobs is on the inside."

Lance's fists bunched, his expression contorting into lines of fury as he turned on the Breed. " I've had my fill of your accusations Jonas."

Megan struggled to fend off the whiplash of emotions slamming into her. She moved closer to Braden and threw up every s.h.i.+eld she could force in front of them, but nothing helped. Lance's anger was whitehot, his voice pain-filled, edging into violence as Jonas's silver eyes darkened dangerously. She shook her head, staring at him, fighting the stirring cauldron of sensations as the swirled around her.

She couldn't run. She couldn't escape the emotions.

"I've had my fill of your incompetence," Jonas sneered. "Tell me, Jacobs. Are you the one who directed Mark and Aimee into that desert? Did you play liaison to the Genetics Council and their Coyotes?" His anger was like wildfire, engulfing everything in its path.

"Like h.e.l.l." Lance moved for the other man, his muscles bunching as Megan felt the whip of another emotion. Deceit. A lie. A carefully constructed game.

"No. Lance, he's playing you." She jumped in front of him again. "Don't give him the satisfaction of a fight."

"Playing what?" he snapped, attempting to pull away from her. "I'll be d.a.m.ned if I let him stand in my office and accuse me of trying to kill you, Megan."

"Stop." She shook his arm, ignoring the discomfort, staring back at him fiercely. "Listen to me." Her fingers tightened despite the building fire beneath her skin, the harsh reaction to touching someone else that made no sense. "He's playing with you, Lance, He knows you didn't do a d.a.m.ned thing. This is no more than a game."

She barely realized she was shuddering. She could feel Lance's rage beating within him, beating within her, demanding action. She couldn't let him fight; wouldn't let him fight. It was all a game, carefully constructed, for what reason she wasn't certain.

"Megan, let him go." Braden seemed to tower over her, his hand covering hers. His touch was cool, comforting where the touch of Lance's flesh filled her with pain. "He's hurting you. I can feel the pain pouring from you. Let him go."

She was shaking, fighting the sensations, staring up at the cousin who had been one of the mainstays in her life for as long as she could remember. The pain made no sense; the sharp discomfort in her hands streaked through the rest of her body, cramping her muscles, searing her skin.

"Hurting her?' Lance's frown was bewildered. "Meg, what the h.e.l.l is going on?"

Lance moved back, pulling his arm gently from her grip as he retreated, his concern was.h.i.+ng over her as some dark sizzle of satisfaction speared through the room. She turned slowly to Jonas Wyatt.

"I don't like you," she informed him, gritting her teeth in anger. "You are a sick son of a b.i.t.c.h." He knew. She could feel it. He was aware of her abilities, testing them, pus.h.i.+ng them all. His lips curved sardonically.

"Perhaps." He tilted his head in acknowledgment of the insult as she stared back at him in confusion.

"Why did you do this?" she asked quietly.

"Because it needed to be done." Jonas arched his brow. "You see, Miss Fields, we have a spy somewhere in this little setup. If not here in this office, then elsewhere. Possibly both. I'll find out who it is, one way or the other. Thank you very much for a.s.suring me that in this case I was wrong. Sheriff Jacobs is innocent."

Her lips parted in shock.

"It's all a game," she whispered. "You knew I was empathic. You used me to try to trap my cousin," she accused him, the anger growing in her voice as she twisted her head to stare up at Braden. "You told him." It made sense now. Somehow he had learned of the empathic abilities and turned them against her by confronting Lance in front of her and then watching her reaction. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" She struggled against Braden's grip. "You cold-blooded, unfeeling son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"Megan. Stay still." Braden's arms surrounded her as she tried to slam her elbow into his abdomen, jerking against his grip. "You don't want to do this alone. Not right now. Too many emotions are whipping through you. Settle down and think first."

His voice was at her ear, slicing through the chaotic din of the blood thundering in her ears, of the emotions and sensations that attacked her brain. Fury. Anger. It was her weakness. She couldn't manage even the simplest s.h.i.+eld against them on her own.

Lance was trying to pull his own emotions back, to spare her the pain of his fury; but it was still there, whipping through the room as though it were a separate ent.i.ty.

She could feel herself shuddering in Braden's grip. She was breathing harshly, her mind soaking up the psychic waves rolling through the room. So many emotions. But over them all, satisfaction. Satisfaction, as well as anger, that poured from Jonas Wyatt.

Her gaze rose to his as she grabbed hold of the fragile barrier she could feel surrounding her, the calm that flowed from Braden and encompa.s.sed her in its protection.

"Get the h.e.l.l out of this office, Jonas," Lance snapped. "Now. And don't bother coming back here."

"Sorry Sheriff." Jonas's smile was flat, tight with his own anger now.

"Unfortunately, we're not quite finished yet. I came to find a spy; instead I find out that my best Enforcer has now mated your cousin. Quite an interesting little development, I must say."

Braden froze behind her as Megan blinked back at the Breed.

"What are you talking about?' she snapped.

Suddenly, the air in the room felt too thick, too tension filled to allow her to breathe. Jonas glanced behind her at Braden.

Jonas's smile was cold. "The Mating isn't going to do her much good unless you carry it through, Braden. Hurry and knock her up before she loses her mind."

None of this was making sense. Jonas wasn't making sense.

"You're pus.h.i.+ng me too far, Jonas." Braden's growl was savage, animalistic. "Insult her again and I'll kill you."

Jonas's brow arched, his gaze locked with hers. "Did I insult her? He murmured. "I stated a fact, Braden. You have mated this woman. It's a little-known phenomenon that began with Callan Lyons, the Pride's leader, and his woman. You are both in the middle of Mating Heat. You marked her, kissed her, infected her with that hormone in your tongue that is more binding than marriage. And there's only one cure." His lips curled coldly. "Well, perhaps not a cure exactly, but one of the few hopes of easing the arousal that will become so painful, so debilitating that she'll risk every area of your life. Congratulations, buddy." The last remark lacked any sincerity whatsoever. Not that it mattered.

Shock now filled the room. It slammed into her, ripped through her brain as she turned slowly to meet Braden's gaze and felt the absolute, complete horror that raced from him and struck her mind, blinding her to every other emotion.

His denial was so strong, so fierce, it slapped her like an open-handed blow, pus.h.i.+ng her back, reaching into the depths of her soul and withering a hope she hadn't known had bloomed within her.

In that moment, she cursed her abilities with everything she had, just as fiercely as she cursed the men staring back at her.

"I didn't want you either," she finally whispered as something in her soul flamed in agonizing pain, forcing the lie past her lips as she turned and moved jerkily away from him. "What I do want are explanations." She turned to Jonas, blinking back the tears that were gathering in her eyes as she met his flinty look. "Now."

Chapter Nine.

Mating Heat. Megan listened in silent shock as Jonas explained the physical symptoms, the need, the arousal and what had caused it. He was very clinical about it. She was thankful that he had asked Lance to leave before explaining more fully.

It began with a certain touch. A kiss, a nip, any caress that allowed the Breed saliva-infused with the hormone that caused the glands at sides of their tongues to swell into a body's system.

The nip on her ear would have done it, perhaps. She remembered the sensitivity of her earlobe after the confrontation, the slow-rising arousal, the clash of emotions that kept her so off balance.

It hadn't exactly begun there. She remembered following Braden through the tunnels, intrigued by his scent, by the air of danger and excitement that flowed around him. She would have wanted him anyway, but would she have wanted him with the strength she did now?

That quickly?

She risked a quick glance at him and admitted she would have. He had drawn her to him, fascinated her, became a conspirator in adventure within the first half hour of their meeting. And she knew, despite the conflicting emotions raging within her, that the little nip he had given her had little to do with that.

That didn't make his rejection of her easier. Her chest was tight with the tears she was holding back. She a.s.sured herself she wasn't going to cry.

Not yet. Though maintaining control on her emotions became harder by the second as Jonas's explanations whipped through her head.

"We've watched the phenomenon advance," Jonas explained as he sat on the edge of the desk, his mocking gaze touching on both of them. "Some of the females it affects with greater strength than others. From the smell of the heat pouring from her, I'd say your woman is one of the strongest."

Now there was one p.i.s.sed-off Lion Breed. Her eyes followed Braden for long minutes, taking in the emotionless expression, the flat chill in his eyes and the strength of the barriers he had slammed between her and his own emotions.

And perhaps that was for the best. The rejection had sliced through her with a pain in her chest that she hadn't expected. Forcing the hurt back was next to impossible as she listened to Jonas explain the Mating Heat and its implications.

"Mating Heat means forever, boys and girls," he announced sarcastically.

Megan crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stared back at Jonas defiantly.

"I can tell you're just thrilled over it too,'' she mocked him coldly, ignoring the odd little glint of amus.e.m.e.nt that flickered in those icy gray eyes. "What happened Mr. Wyatt, did you suspect this before you came out here and set up this little meeting?'She waved her hand to encompa.s.s the three of them. "You knew Lance didn't print out that d.a.m.ned schedule, just as you knew that Braden would discover the fact that I'm an Empath. You came here to be certain that the Mating you suspected had actually happened."

His brow arched. A slow upward tilt that conveyed a sarcastic response more clearly than words.

"I suspected," he admitted with a slow incline of his head as he glanced at Braden and grimaced. "I was hoping that this time my suspicions would be wrong." His gaze when it returned to her was condemning.

"I'm certain his hopes agree with yours," she snapped as she flipped her hand toward Braden's silent form, covering her hurt with anger. "So find a cure." She ignored the rumbled growl that came from Braden.

Jonas chuckled. There was no mirth to the sound, only mocking knowledge.

"The Breeds have been searching for a cure for more than five years," he said. "There's a ban on this information, Miss Fields. Breaking that ban could and would endanger more lives than just yours or Braden's. It also comes with a rather stiff penalty."

"Oh yeah, I'm just going to run right out and call a press conference," she bit out. "Can the orders, Mr. Wyatt, I'm not in the mood for them."

His eyes narrowed. "For a woman whose abilities cause her to be too frightened to join the real world, you can be rather confrontational, Miss Fields." There was nothing kind about the tight smile that shaped his thin lips.

"Enough, Jonas." Braden's voice was a hard rumble as he s.h.i.+fted from his position against the far wall and stood straight, tense.

He didn't want her, so why protest if another man dared to speak sharply to her? Why protest anything about her period?

"Did I ask for your help?" she snapped before Jonas could speak. She ignored the frown that lowered his brows and had his gold eyes glittering in warning.

"You don't have to ask,'' Braden growled, as though he had rights. As though she were some sort of responsibility now.

"Oh yeah, that's right." She wrinkled her nose sarcastically. "You're my big bad mate now." She gave an exaggerated s.h.i.+ver. "I should be all grateful or something, shouldn't I?"

"Or something," he muttered, eyeing her warily.