He shook his head in mock sadness, the deceptively lazy stance of his powerful body almost deceiving her into relaxing her guard. Jeans loosely molded his powerful thighs, a gray T-shirt hugged his broad chest. He was a walking sex machine and the glitter of his unusual eyes showed her he knew it.
"We were making a great team." He sighed as the sound of the helicopter grew louder. "It's too bad, Megan. I was finally starting to have fun."
He jumped for her. Damn. No warning, no thought, no impression of what he was going to do before he did it. He just did it.
The gun flew from her hand as she hit the ground, the breath whooshing from her body as his heavier length covered her, heated her.
"Later baby." He nipped her ear before jumping to his feet and racing for his Raider. A second later, dust enveloped her as he sped through the gully and disappeared around a bend. The sound of the helicopter grew closer.
Geez, could this day get much worse?
Washington D.C.
Senator Macken Cooley frowned in displeasure as the cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket, forcing him to take his attention from the statutes of Breed Law he was currently reviewing. The mandates that governed the new species and gave them their special rights were a thorn in his side. They were creatures. They weren't animal or human; they deserved no rights.
As the special, secured cell phone continued to vibrate, he jerked it from his jacket pocket with a grimace that turned to a look of interest when he saw the number on the caller ID.
"Yes?'
"Arness was there," a low voice spoke into the phone.
"Megan Fields has taken out one of the hunters and captured the other."
Braden Arness was becoming the problem he had predicted to the Genetics Council. He smirked at the ire in the voice on the phone, wishing he knew who his contact was; he would love to imagine the expression that went with the voice at the moment. He didn't sound pleased.
"I warned you it wouldn't be so easy." He couldn't help but gloat. "She doesn't hide in that desert because she doesn't know what she's doing."
He had tried to warn the Genetics Council of this when they decided to take the matter out of his hands.
They didn't know the girl or her family as he did. Their special psychic powers would make it practically impossible to ambush one of them, especially Megan Fields. Her empathic abilities were stronger than most, harder to control, but definitely impressive.
"We're turning over two units to you, Senator," the voice rasped.
"They're ex-Navy SEALS and dedicated to our cause. Don't mess up. We won't try to cover you if you're caught. You're on your own."
"And if I succeed? He could feel his c**k stiffening at the thought of the control he would soon have over the delicate little Megan.
If you succeed, you'll advance to the next position," the voice promised.
"If you fail, you'll die."
He wouldn't fail. And advancement within the Genetics Society was his ultimate goal. He craved the power that would come with the position of
a section leader. One of the few that commanded their own units of Coyote soldiers. The spies would come to him then, their lives would be in his control. The thought of that power was almost orgasmic.
As the phone connection was severed, he allowed anticipation to begin building within him.
He didn't see the Breeds as human or as animal; they were creatures. Tools to be used and nothing more. And Megan, by sheer chance, would become no more than a pawn in his efforts to see the creatures placed once again where they belonged-within captivity.
He would play with Megan a bit first though, see if she was as good as her father had always claimed she was. He could take her out at any time, but he wanted to see her fight. He wanted to see her scared. And he wanted that damned arrogant Jonas Wyatt to come to the realization that the Breeds were nothing compared to the Council. Nothing compared to Senator Macken Cooley. Wyatt was always so arrogant, so sure of himself and his power. Mac would show him once and for all the reality of true power.
Of course, Wyatt would attempt to save Megan. He might even have her placed in Sanctuary. It wouldn't matter. No matter where she went, Mac knew his people could get to her. He wanted Wyatt to know that as well.
And maybe, just maybe before he killed little Megan, he would tell why he had marked her for death. Not that she would remember at first. He knew her. Knew how her powers worked. David Fields, her father, had often confided in Mac as he worried for his daughter and her inability to process the empathic signals she received.
No, she wouldn't remember that night; not until he took her life. He would have her, and then he would kill her. But in the meantime, he could play, just a little bit. The thought had him smiling as he turned back to his research, his dedication renewed, his determination to find a way to destroy those damned Breeds energized. He would succeed.
Chapter Two
Damn, she made him hard. It was the first thought that popped into Braden's mind the next morning when Megan stepped into her cousin's office and stared at him with instant suspicion.
She was dressed in tight, sexy jeans tucked into calfhigh boots. A khaki shirt was buttoned just over the rise of her br**sts; a wide belt cinched her waist and held the holster for her police-issue Wounder that lay behind her left hip.
A fine film of perspiration dotted her brow as her dark blue eyes gleamed with amusement and a spark of menace. She would not be an easy woman to control, but he had already guessed that.