• CHAPTER 6 •

“I’m fine!” It wasn’t the first time Cassie made the statement in the four hours since she’d awakened in the Bureau’s medical lab, and she was getting damned tired of having the demand ignored. “Would you stop poking at me?”

She glared at Dr. Sobolova as she came at her with yet another pressure syringe. “I need some of my blood myself, you know.”

Her head was throbbing, the result of what the doctors suggested was a fist to the back of her head. Her ribs were tender from another blow. For some reason she’d gone to her knees before collapsing and their contact with the cement hadn’t been easy.

“Cassie, they’re trying to help.” Her mother’s calm voice wasn’t helping. Nor were the worry and fear shadowing her dark blue eyes.

It was a reminder of when she was a child and her knowledge of the strength it had taken for her mother to always remain calm, no matter how hard, how fast, they had to run, that ensured Cassie didn’t give in to her own terror.

She hated what had happened to her mother during those two years. The fear, the battle to stay one step ahead of the monster determined to take her daughter and the constant attacks had nearly destroyed Elizabeth.

Cassie remembered the night Dash had found them in that truck stop in the middle of a blizzard. The car they were in couldn’t travel farther; the scent of her mother’s blood, her hopelessness and her determination to fight to her last breath had been smothering Cassie.

Then there Dash had been, the letter she’d sent him in one hand, promising safety with the other. Now, fifteen years later, Elizabeth was stronger, well trained by her husband to defend herself and her children, and still fighting to protect her daughter.

From the corner of her eye she saw Sobolova advancing on her again.

“If they touch me one more time, I’m going to lose it,” she muttered, looking up at her mother from beneath her lashes, fighting to hold back the anger building inside her.

Elizabeth was worried. Cassie could see it in her face, but even if she couldn’t, she could sense the deepening concern filling her mother. Her dark blue eyes were shadowed, her expression somber.

It seemed that no matter her attempts, she couldn’t give her mother any peace.

“I’m going to my suite.” She eased from the gurney, thankful neither doctor protested too strenuously. “Do you think you or Dad could have some food delivered?”

Collecting her shoes from the metal shelf next to the bed, she hoped—no, prayed—Dog was still close by. She might need some help getting to her suite on her own two feet.

“I’ll call,” her mother agreed. “Give me your phone. I don’t have the numbers here.”

Oh yeah, right. No way in hell was she going to tell her mother about her phones. Elizabeth would erupt with fury and Dash would probably force Cassie back to Colorado.

“On second thought, I’m not hungry.” She was starving. “Is Dog still with Jonas?”

Maybe she could get Dog to call. She really wasn’t up to explaining the fact that her phones had been wiped. Remotely wiped. Whoever had ordered it hadn’t even had the courtesy to ask for the phones or simply take the Bureau line.

As she considered whether she was actually able to walk to the elevators on her own, the door to the examination room opened and Dog strode in. Tall. Powerful. The sense of relief that swept over her was weakening.

“Going somewhere, halfling?” he growled a second before he swept her up into his arms.

She didn’t have the strength to protest. Resting her head on his shoulder, she felt the breath she’d been holding slowly release.

“My suite,” she sighed, feeling his warmth surrounding her.

She’d been unaware how cold she actually was until she felt his warmth, felt the beat of his heart, his arms surrounding her.

He was moving before she spoke, though, pushing through the opened door and carrying her along the hall to the elevator.

“There are guards at our door,” she told him as the elevator closed and they were alone.

“Really?” There was something in his voice that sounded just a little too self-satisfied. It was a warning she took to heart. Even if she hadn’t known who he was, she’d heard of the Council Coyote, Dog, for years.

He was lethal. There wasn’t a Breed she knew of who wasn’t at least wary of him.

“Please don’t fight.” She simply couldn’t deal with it. Not right now. “Not here.”

The totally male grunt that vibrated in his chest was a mix of disgust and amusement.

“You’re about to become high maintenance, darlin’. I enjoy a good fight,” he told her as the elevator doors opened. “But this one time, I’ll be a good boy.”

She doubted Dog had been a good boy a day in his life.

As they neared her door, the scents of dislike and distaste reached her nostrils. They were Breeds; they were trained to better control such emotions. The fact that the scent of them was so strong was insulting.

It wasn’t unexpected.

Whenever she moved about the Bureau’s halls, whether on the residential floor or in other areas, she caught the scents reaching out to her, normally from the Wolf Breeds rather than felines, though she could rarely identify whom the emotions were coming from.

“Interesting,” Dog muttered. “That normal?”

She knew what he meant and she could only shrug in reply. It wasn’t unusual. At least she could identify the Breeds it was coming from this time.

“Open the door, assholes, then back off.” Dog stopped several feet from the door leading to her suite.

The Breed Enforcers’ expressions were bland, but the scent of their disgust grew despite the fact that the door was pushed open and the enforcers stepped back as ordered.

Did they really believe they were safe from him? That he wouldn’t strike out at them simply because the emotions weren’t directed at him? That he wouldn’t take it as a personal challenge?

Dog strode into the room, caught the door with his heel and slammed it closed.

This would be dealt with, Dog assured himself as he carried Cassie to the bedroom and laid her on her bed. Very soon, and very painfully. At least, painfully for them. They had no fucking idea the animal they were screwing with or exactly how protective he truly was over his little mate. His halfling.

Cassie was too pale, and a sense of weariness emanated from her. But that weariness had been growing in her for more than a year now. Possibly two. No wonder if that was the bullshit she had to deal with.

“How often do they let their ignorance show like that, Cassie?” he asked her casually, careful to hold his anger at bay.

Once again, she shrugged, not looking at him as she dropped her shoes to the floor beside the bed and propped herself against the pillows.

“I think I’m hungry,” she sighed, a statement meant to distract him.

He didn’t distract easy. At least not that easy. She’d have to be naked and talking about more than food.

“Want me to go ask them?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against the dresser and watched her, only allowing mild curiosity to show.

The glare she shot him assured him she wasn’t fooled. What she couldn’t smell, she was smart enough to know lay beneath the surface. She was smarter than they were, she sensed the animal he harbored, even if she didn’t realize how very powerful it was.

“It’s rarely that strong,” she surprised him with the direct, firm answer. “But going out there and knocking a few heads together won’t change it. They normally only allow me to sense it if I’m alone. They’ve learned not to show it at any other time.”

Because the few times her father had sensed it in those first years, he’d erupted in such savagery on the Breeds who dared show it that it taken some of them weeks to fully recover. But it hadn’t made those who feared her like her any better. They’d only learned to hide it better.

“So, because you can’t knock their heads together, they refuse to show their respect when you’re alone?” He didn’t bother to hide the growl in his voice then. “And you haven’t dealt with this yet?” That didn’t sound like the woman, the Breed, he knew she was trained to be. Or the animal that lurked impatiently beneath the surface.

His little halfling gave an irritated role of her eyes. “I could knock their heads together and they wouldn’t dare strike back, but what’s the point? The feeling would still be there. They don’t strike back because they know Dad and Jonas would skin them out. That’s not respect. It’s fear.”

And it wasn’t her style. She was such a damned lady he doubted she ever gave in to that need to confront such stupidity. But the need to do it was there; he could sense it. It flowed through her with a hunger she refused to face and likely didn’t even recognize.

He’d watched her over the years, studied her, paid attention to every expression, every scent, no matter how slight. His delicate little mate was a volcano kept tightly restrained.

He’d let that go for now. He’d deal with the two at the door and any others he sensed himself. Just as he’d been prepared to deal with the attack that morning. Mutt and Mongrel were on the trail of the third Wolf Breed who’d attacked her. The one Jonas was unaware of. The third, he’d have in custody soon and Dog would make certain the other two knew what awaited them.

He’d know who it was soon, and the bastard wouldn’t live much longer. No Breed, no matter who he was, deserved to live after such a strike. Had they struck at Dog, he might have left them living, if he was in a good mood, but they’d struck his mate instead.

“It’s been like that since I was a child, Dog.” There was the weariness, the hurt. “I wasn’t always as discreet as I could have been in things I knew. The felines for the most part were never bothered by it. Some were wary at times, but not distrustful. Coyotes take everything in stride.” The irony in her tone couldn’t be missed. “But Wolf Breeds, I think, react instinctively to the mixed scents of the DNA I possess as well as rumors concerning abilities I really don’t possess. And they know the threat I represent to the lives they’re building if I’m ever captured by the Council.” She looked at him solemnly. “Felines, Father’s Wolf Breeds, and Jonas personally would go to war if that happened. There wouldn’t be a Breed alive who wouldn’t be pulled into it.”

She was making excuses for them? He couldn’t believe what the hell he was hearing. But she was right. There wasn’t a feline Breed he knew of who had met her and didn’t like her; many adored her. Coyotes were wary of her ability to argue Breed Law but, other than that, found her playfulness and charm enchanting.

He’d never heard that the Wolf Breeds felt any differently, but come to think of it, they rarely heard of any Wolf Breeds but her father’s say anything kind about her either. And it had been a Wolf Breed who’d attacked her.

He’d been certain he was losing his mind as he watched her go to her knees, her eyes wide, dazed from the blows to her body. A haze of red had obliterated everything but the knowledge that she’d been attacked, hurt. And here she sat excusing them. Not just her attacker, but every Breed who dared show disrespect for her by allowing the scent of it free.

“Cassie, what right do they have to resent your genetics or your abilities? None of the other Coyote females experience this …”

It was the tiniest flinch of her expression that stopped him.

Evidently, the Coyote females were experiencing it. Ashley was tolerating it? The Coyote female even he would hesitate to meet in a dark alley, and Wolf Breeds were actually showing their disdain for her? They obviously had a suicidal wish.

“It’s not all Wolf Breeds.” Swinging her legs over the bed, she gripped the side of the mattress as she stared up at him. “Until the two at the door, I was never certain where it was coming from. Maybe it was just those two.”

Bullshit.

She frowned up at him when he didn’t say anything. “Don’t glare at me like that. And sit down or something. I’m straining my neck.”

He wondered if he could get away with paddling her ass.

He knew the scent of her wariness combined with her Heat was about to make him crazy. From the moment he laid her on the bed, her arousal had been growing. And he’d been trying to ignore it. She’d been attacked, she had to be hurting, she didn’t need to deal with his lust on top of it.

“Why did you leave the suite this morning?” And that was the uppermost question.

“I had things to do, Dog. I normally don’t lie around in my suite all day. And I won’t play the prisoner and begin doing it now.” Steel will and determination filled her voice.

She began to rise from the bed after making that little declaration, as though the conversation were finished.

“Sit back down.” He kept his tone polite, nice even.

He watched those odd blue eyes lighten just a hint and her expression tighten stubbornly.

“Excuse me?” Her tone, for all its pleasantness, held a note he rarely heard in a female’s voice. That undercurrent that only alphas could actually pull off. Son of a bitch, he’d suspected it, but that moment of strength he sensed was surprising.

No damned wonder so many Wolves were having problems with her and Coyotes weren’t. Coyotes loved the challenge an alpha female presented; Wolf Breeds tended view it more suspiciously unless it was an acquired trait the mate of an alpha had developed.

“You heard me.” He stared down at her, trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle he knew about his intriguing little halfling. “What things did you have to do at daylight this morning that required leaving the building? Especially alone.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Where were you, come to think of it? You were gone when I awoke.”

She was deflecting. Now, this was interesting.

“Things to do,” he murmured, barely controlling a grin. “Places to go. People to see.”

“Council things?” The wave of anger that shot from her might have intimidated a lesser Coyote.

“Things that didn’t cause an attack against you,” he pointed out rather than answering her. “Unlike yours. Now, would you care to answer me?”

The scent that hit him when he finished speaking was so intriguing his cock hardened to iron and the glands beneath his tongue began throbbing with the need to kiss her. It caused such a punch of lust to hit his balls that it nearly stole his breath. Because that scent was one of such challenge, such daring, that the instincts he harbored in the darkest part of him nearly slipped free.

“Yes, your things did cause that attack.” Rising to her feet, she faced him. Without her heels, shoulders straight, she stared up at him with narrow-eyed fury. “I was called a Council whore before that fist connected with my head. And I was out there because I was looking for a cab to take me to where I had stashed a secure mobile phone, because mine were wiped. Phones, tablet and laptop. I couldn’t contact anyone and I had no access to any floor except this one, and there were guards to keep me from accessing the other hallways. I could use the elevator to go to the lobby. Period. Because of you.” Delicate, graceful, a finger poked at his chest with imperious feminine anger. “And because of your Council things, I was unable to even contact the enforcers my father sent to see to my protection, let alone the ones Jonas assigned me.”

Once he began killing, he might just start with Jonas. There were few who could give the order to have her so restrained. Very few. And Jonas was at the top of that particular chain.

Straightening from his slouched position against the dresser, he looked at that little finger pointing at him before lifting his gaze to her eyes.

The Heat was building in her, but it was far slower than his, indicating her body was attempting to heal rather than mate. She hadn’t been lying earlier when she said she was hungry, and beneath it all, he could sense the impotent fury that came from her belief that her mate was the enemy.

And that damnable pride he possessed wouldn’t let him tell her the truth.

“Why don’t you get out of those torn clothes and dress in something you can relax in. I’ll order some food,” he suggested.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your phone works?”

He couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t use a Bureau phone, sweetheart. And I use my own encryption. I have a spare I picked up for you this morning, though, to ensure the Bureau couldn’t track any calls I made to you.”

“I don’t want one of your Council toys,” she snarled back at him, striding past and heading for her closet. “I’ll get my own.”

“You’re going to get fucked before you get fed if you don’t watch all the little dares you’re throwing out,” he snapped, unable not to respond to the constant challenge. “Now, by God, do as I asked, just this once.”

Before she could make another smart-ass reply, he turned and stalked from the room. But instead of making the call for dinner, he strode to the door, jerked it open, and before the Wolf Breeds guarding it could do more than jump, he was on them. The flat of his hand to the diaphragm put the nearest one to the floor, struggling to breathe. The other took a full punch to the face—lights fucking out—ensuring he was unconscious as he hit the floor.

As the first glared up at him, coughing, Dog pulled a cigar free of his shirt and lit it with lazy amusement.

“You know what that was for. Let it happen again, and you’re dead.” Turning, he reentered the room and found himself facing his mate’s furious glare.

He closed the door and pulled his phone free of his belt and shot her a lazy grin. “I think steaks are called for. That work for you?”