hissed, pointing to the steady blink of the locator light. “Southern tip, within the vegetation.”
She sent the order to the links; the electronic signal would display as directions on the PDAs they would have pulled the second the emergency signal went to their links.
She turned to him then, quickly, some instinct, some knowledge warning her. She was unable to catch him as he threw the link and stormed from the bedroom, a weapon she hadn’t even known he had close clenched in his hand.
“No. No.” She shook her head, frantic as she grabbed the link from the floor, attached it to her ear and ran after him.
She had to catch up with him. He couldn’t do this, not without her. Nothing could happen to Seth. How would she live? How the hell was she supposed to face the night without him? What would keep the nightmares away and surround her with warmth if anything happened to Seth?
Her finger was hovering over the main channel activator when a low laugh came over it.
“Is your lover on his way? I’m waiting for him, Dawn. And this time, he’ll be the one that dies. You belong to me, little girl.”
She deactived, hit the reset and cleared the channels team-wide before reactivating to a channel now blocked to the compromised link.
“Alert. All agents alert. Seth is moving out of the house. I repeat, he’s on the run to the link location. Converge and cover. I want him back in this house. Styx, locate Moira…”
“Located. Tranqed and out of it but alive. Dash and Callan are moving for Lawrence at the back entrance. I repeat, she’s tranqed, and it’s powerful from the smell of it.”
Dawn was taking the steps two at a time before hitting the foyer, sliding and righting herself in a second to rush to the back of the house, following Seth’s scent.
“Well hell, guess they’re all moving out tae-gether, lass.”
“No. Dash. Get him in this house. Get him back here now.” Panic was setting in on her. There was an assassin out there, waiting on Seth, and he had found a way to draw him out.
“Dawn, hold position.” Dash’s voice came over the link. “We have Seth covered. That’s an order. Hold position.”
“No. No,” she yelled into the link, rushing for the kitchen. “Get him back in here.”
“Dawn, you can’t cage him,” Callan came back. “Let him fight this battle.”
“No.” She was moving from the house, finding cover and following. “Don’t do this, Callan. Don’t you risk him this way. Don’t you do this.” She was begging him. She could hear the plea in her voice, the demand.
He came back, his voice cold. “He’s your mate, Dawn, not your possession. Return to position and await orders.”
She was shaking, fury and fear filling her at the sound of Callan’s voice. Why would he do this? Why would he allow her mate to risk his life this way?
Her breathing was harsh, her heart racing out of control as she reached the back door. Surely he wouldn’t deliberately draw Seth into danger. He wouldn’t let her mate walk into an ambush, would he? Could he? Did he hate Seth to that extent?
She shook her head. He was arrogant, he was powerful, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a man, and so was Seth. What the hell, was this a fucking male bonding moment or something?
They had a head start, and though she knew the location of the link, she had no idea which direction they had taken. Keeping low, her heart thumping in her chest, fear clogging her senses, she sprinted from cover to cover until she hit the tree line. Once there, Dawn let the animal clawing inside her free.
That instinctive, predatory half of herself that she kept reined so closely gave a small, hissing growl as she crouched in the shadows. Her head lifted, her nostrils flaring, searching for the scent of her mate.
She could still hear the sound of that voice. Evil. Vicious. It echoed in her head. Little girl. Fight me, little cat…
She shook her head. She wouldn’t remember. She wouldn’t let herself. She had pushed that child out of existence years ago and she would be damned if she would let her back in now.
She let herself recede. That human part of her brain slipped to the side and allowed instinct to take over. She had trained for this. She had worked her ass off for ten years, pitting herself against the best trackers, the best assassins Sanctuary housed.
She was a predator. She could track, she could kill. She would be there with her mate, by his side. If he was stupid enough to race into danger, then he could damned well accept her being with him.
She moved through the underbrush, her senses humming, Seth’s scent clear in her head as she searched for it on the breeze. Every particle of her being narrowed to one thing, to one stone-cold purpose: the protection of her mate. The man who brought her to life. Who touched her without shame, who bought her soaps that smelled of emotion and panties as soft as a lover’s sigh.
She moved in the direction of the link, her senses probing out in either direction, searching for the scents she needed. Seth’s scent. The scent of a weapon, of danger and of evil.
Her gun was held close to her leg, a knife within easy access, one tucked into each boot, another at her opposite thigh.
As a large frond waved in the breeze, she slid with it, her shadow merging with the shadow of the leaf, hiding her from an assassin’s eyes. The electronics built into her uniform would camouflage her from heat-seeking sights or electronic detection. Only eyes could see her, and her training combined with the animal half of her being ensured no human eyes or Breed’s picked her up.
As she moved through the dim shadows of the thick vegetation and trees, a scent whispered past her. The scent of rage barely contained, a man’s fury, a lover’s determination to protect.
Seth’s scent. Her head lifted, the smell of him rolling through her senses a second before another sharper, bitter smell hit her nostrils. And it was closer.
She whirled around, a snarl leaving her lips as a hard, sharp pain tore through her shoulder.
Her gaze jerked to the dart buried in her flesh, and for a second a memory flashed across her mind. The prick of a needle, the drugs racing through her system, ensuring that her body was weak but her senses alive. The drugs the Council used during their experiments to impair the Breed senses, to make them easier to control.
A second later she was flying through the air, a shadow picking her up, tossing her to the ground as a snarl left her lips and she stared into those eyes.
Eyes the child she thought forever vanquished inside her recognized.
An enraged feline hiss tore from her lips as she gripped the weapon at her side, dragged it weakly from its holster, lifted it and fired. She held her finger on the trigger, her senses thrown off by the tranq, her eyesight dazed, her reactions jerky, uncoordinated as she fired the shot through the silence of the lush jungle-like surroundings.
A foot connected with the gun, kicking it from her hand and numbing her fingers as a rough laugh seemed to echo inside her head.
“Fight me, little cat,” he laughed as he jerked her to him then straddled her smaller body.
The pain of his touch exploded through her senses. Agony unlike anything she could remember. A thousand daggers ripping at her flesh as he pawed at her.
She couldn’t separate the scents or the sounds within her head. She couldn’t pull in his scent. But she could see his eyes. Eyes she knew.
Oh God…
She cut off the prayer, her fingers flexing, scrambling for the knife at her thigh before hard hands gripped her wrist, nearly breaking it before jerking it with the other over her head.
She writhed beneath him. The pain was agonizing. It burned and blistered, peeled the skin from her bones and left her fighting to scream.
“You forgot who you belonged to, didn’t you, Dawn?” A smile curved beneath the black face mask he wore. A snug-fitting, light material. Just as they had worn in the labs on those discs. Hiding the face of evil.
She hissed, trying to buck beneath him, fighting against the strength in
his arms as he ripped her shirt open.
Beneath, the full uniform bra hid her breasts. The material held her breasts confined, stretched over them, under them, covering her entire chest area.
“Remember who you belong to, bitch.”
She tried to curse him, to scream her rage as he twisted her nipple painfully.
The feel of that flashed through her brain and the memories threatened to break free. Desperation tore through her, clawed at her brain and fought to pour adrenaline into her system.
She was stronger than this. The paralyzing effect rushing through her body was fear, nothing more. She had been trained to fight past the tranqs, to function as long as possible. She had learned how to avoid capture, to escape the enemy and to fight back, all while drugged. She had learned how to do it. She could do it now. She had to, because she knew the alternative would destroy her. Her and Seth.
With one last surge of strength her legs came up, hooked around his neck and dragged him backward as she twisted. When she felt him break the hold she had on him easily, she tried to scramble away. His hands clawed at her hips a second later, at the snug waist of her pants, in an attempt to jerk them off her hips.
He was not going to rape her. Pain was radiating through every cell of her body at his touch, and agony pierced the tranquilizer. That pain diluted its effects and gave her the strength to send out a snarling cry. An animal’s scream of rage that every Breed on the island would pick up.
“Bitch.” A fist connected with her head. “Fucking whore.”
Shards of paralyzing pain pierced her at the blow. It dimmed her gaze, sent sickness roiling in her stomach and stole the strength from her limbs as he jerked her to her back once again.
“Let’s see if we can’t show the world who you belong to.” He lifted her knife, the blade gleaming above her. “I’ll mark you until no other would consider touching you. All mine, little girl.”
He was going to cut her. Scar her. Mark her.
A shot fired. Her attacker jerked, cursed and threw himself back.
The weight was gone as quickly as it had come. The agonizing pain of the male touch receded, to be replaced by the pain of the blow to her head.
She shook her head, whimpering as she felt unconsciousness trying to take hold of her. She couldn’t pass out. The enemy was here. He was here and her mate was in danger. She had to fight.
She tried to cry out, tried to find the strength to locate her link and call for help. She had to get to Seth.
“Seth.” She heard his name slip past her lips, a whisper of the scream that ached to be voiced.
Every part of her body hurt. She could feel the agony in her wrist, in the back of her head. Her ankle felt numb, yet glowing with pain.
A mewling moan left her lips and she hated that sound. She sounded like a child again, like a worthless animal whimpering in pain.
She tried to drag herself to her knees, to get to her feet, but she collapsed in the dirt again, her nails digging into it as she fought to hold on to reality, to consciousness.
She had to find her mate.
She could hear more screams, enraged roars and a male battle cry that would have frozen her senses if she’d had enough of them left to freeze.
She shook her head as she fought to clear the haze from her mind.
That lion’s roar sounded again. But it was the human scream of rage that sent chills down her spine. There was gunfire, and the answering call of Breed roars—Lion, Jaguar and Wolf. They spun within her head as she tried to pull herself to her knees.
She wavered, the earth spinning around her, before her eyesight darkened and she collapsed to the ground. The last sound she heard was that of her name, fury and agonized pain echoing in her mate’s voice.
He was alive. He lived.
She closed her eyes and let the darkness have her.
“Dawn!” Seth slid to the ground, his hands moving over her quickly, checking for broken bones, for blood. From her neck, down her back to her legs.
He turned her carefully and felt the breath leave his body on an enraged cry. Her shirt was torn open; scratches marred her upper chest and collarbone.
He was aware of the Breeds surrounding them, two teams, their backs to Seth, Dash and Callan as they quickly checked her for injuries.
“I want fucking secured access into the house. Find that damned shooter, Styx, or I’m going to peel your bones,” Callan was yelling into the communications link as Seth checked Dawn’s wrist.
It was swelling but not broken. Her ankle was twisted. Scratches marred her arms, upper chest and stomach, but there were no wounds. There was a lump on the back of her head. The bastard had hit her.
The son of a bitch had let them listen as he attacked her. Let them know he had her. Seth had heard the note of possession in his voice, the demented lust, and knew a terror unlike anything he had ever known.
“I told you she was going to follow,” Dash reminded him and Callan both. “Where do the two of you get the idea your women are going to sit and twiddle their thumbs when you’re in danger?”
Seth cast him a furious look as he quickly pulled Dawn’s shirt over her breasts and secured several buttons.
“Is that fucking route cleared?” Callan was snapping into the link before turning blazing eyes on Seth. “Pick her up. They’ll surround the four of us and pull us into the house.”
Seth picked her up gently, his teeth clenching with the pain streaking through his soul at the limpness of her body. Defenseless. God, how was he ever going to erase the mark on his soul that he had put her here? That he had let this happen.
“Seth, stay low.” Dash put his hand on his shoulder as he moved to rise. “The others need to be above us. We’ll move carefully to the clearing, then they’ll surround us entirely. We have a shooter in the trees.”
He nodded, unable to unlock his teeth, to relax his jaw enough to speak. If he did, he would howl in fury. He would never contain the rage burning inside him.
He stayed low, keeping his head below shoulder level of the Breeds surrounding them. He understood as they made their way through the natural cover. The Breeds surrounding them were unmated. Those within their protective circle were mates. The Breeds were so protective of their women that the mated males were also extremely careful of their own safety. The women’s survival, he had learned, depended on those matings. Should a mate be lost, then his partner would suffer and the consequences of that loss could be devastating.
“Our Breed doctor is flying in,” Callan snapped. “Elizabeth put the call into Sanctuary immediately. The heli-jet will be en route within minutes, ETA less than two hours.”
“She’s stable.” Seth was finally able to speak as he ran at a near crouch. “Bruising, scratches and some swelling; nothing’s broken. He hit her in the back of the head, possible concussion.”
“We’ll keep her stable till Doc Morrey gets here.” They eased to the clearing leading to the house.
“Jonas is perched at the top of the house with his rifle,” Callan informed them. “We move in hard and fast to the house. Keep moving. God forbid one of you go down, stay down, don’t move until we can drag you out,” he ordered the unmated Breeds.
Jonas’s voice came over the link. “Move out. You have a clear field.”
They made it across the clearing, the Breeds rushing them into the back of the house as the guests gathered around, shocked, concerned, ignored by Seth as he ran to the back stairs and up to the second floor and his suite.
She needed to be in their bed. Wrapped in the scent of their bodies. She had to know she was safe.
God help him, how could she ever feel safe in his care again?
CHAPTER 17
Consciousness didn’t return in a rush. It came slowly, the sound of voices rising from the mists of her own screams and the brutal dark eyes staring down at her.
When she felt the prick on her arm, the knowledge that a needle had pierced her flesh, awareness flooded into her brain. Her hand s
hot out, her fingers clenching around a slender neck, tightening.
Her eyes jerked open, but her senses were still dazed, her vision hazy.
“Dawn. Let the doctor go.” A hard hand slid over her wrist, not gripping, just touching.
Seth’s touch.
She blinked, letting her fingers loosen slowly as she felt her hand cradled in his and her vision slowly cleared to see Dr. Morrey standing over her.
Ely’s face was pale, her dark eyes worried as she drew back the hand and the hypo-syringe she was using.
“What is it?” Dawn questioned the injection groggily.
“Just something to clear your head.” Ely coughed slightly, a hand lifting to her neck as she massaged the reddened skin. “I didn’t expect you to have the strength to react so quickly.”
Dawn blinked drowsily, feeling the effects of the tranquilizer still in her system as her gaze sought Seth’s. He was sitting on the side of the bed next to her, his eyes dark, anger and concern swirling in the cloudy depths.
“Did anyone get him?” she asked.
Seth shook his head, his jaw tightening. “He got away.”
“Moira?” She was almost afraid to ask about the Irish Lioness.
“Unharmed. Groggy but coming out of it quickly.”
Dawn turned her head to stare at Dash where he stood at the other side of the bed. Callan stood beside him, silent, his golden eyes flaming with the intensity of his fury.
“Good.” She turned away.
“Dawn, don’t turn from me,” Callan growled.
She turned her gaze back. “I have put my body in front of your mate’s to protect her,” she whispered hoarsely. “You led mine into danger and ordered me back.” She remembered that, distinctly, clearly. “What happened to you, Callan? Once, long ago, you would have never betrayed me.”
It hurt, that knowledge. Knowing that he had done the one thing guaranteed to force Seth out of her life ten years ago had been bad enough. But now, this time, he had led Seth into danger.
“Callan doesn’t control me, Dawn. Don’t ever imagine that’s possible.” Seth’s voice was hard now, cold. “And the next time you put your ass out there like that I’ll paddle it.”
She turned back to him, her responses still slow as she frowned. “I’m trained to.”
“And you think I’m not?” His lips tightened dangerously. “You don’t protect me. Understand that now. You will never place yourself between me and danger, or you’ll not sit on your ass for a week after I get finished.”
A frown jerked between her brows. He was daring to threaten to spank her?
“I’m gonna shoot you,” she mumbled.
Callan snorted, and Dawn wanted to grin at the sound of amusement she heard in it. But she couldn’t grin. She had to blink against the flash of horror that snapped inside her mind. The feel of shackles at her wrists, her ankles. Cold steel holding her down. She jerked before managing to control the reaction.
“Are you okay?” Ely, ever observant, checked her pulse, her hands carefully covered by the thin gloves she had specially coated to examine Breed mates.
Her touch brought no pain, only a sense of discomfort.
“I’m fine.” She shrugged the doctor off. “Go aggravate Moira and leave me alone.”
Ely grinned at the order.
Brutal eyes flashed in front of Dawn’s memory then. Hazel brown, filled with smug satisfaction, with horrible pleasure, as thin lips smiled. A smile of triumph behind a black mask.
“We’re tracking the tranq we found next to your body,” Dash told her drawing her back. “The attacker took the one he used on Moira, but whoever shot at him frightened him away before he could retrieve the one he used on you. We’re hoping we can trace him with it.”
“What shooter?” She wanted to shake her head, but she was afraid to. Afraid any shift in her body would bring another flash of horror.
“Someone shot at your attacker. Someone positioned in the trees, we suspect. We haven’t found a sign of him, or his scent. We hoped you had.”
Dawn blinked back at Dash. “There was another unknown out there?” she asked faintly. “That’s not possible.”
“All guests were accounted for when we got back to the house,” Dash continued. “There were none missing. All our men were accounted for and none of them took the shot. We were rushing to your location when it was fired.”
“He was going to cut me.” The edge of the blade over her face flashed before her mind. “Mark me.”
“We heard.” The ice in Seth’s voice was frightening to hear. She had never heard him so cold, so killingly furious.
“We heard everything on the link,” Callan told her, and his voice was just as dangerous, just as lethal. “When the shot fired, he disappeared.”
“Scents?” She frowned. Surely one of them had smelled something.
“Covered. A combination of subtle alterations that we haven’t been able to pick up on the guests. We haven’t placed the underlying scent yet,” Callan told her.
“Capzasin.” She licked her dry lips slowly. “I could smell it on him, but it was wearing off even then. I recognized the underlying scent.”
She had to clench her teeth to hold back the fear that wanted to grow inside her then, the panic. Ten years of training and still, it nearly escaped.
“Who?” Seth’s single word echoed with the need for blood.
She stared up at him miserably, wishing she could hold back the words, wishing she could hide what she knew.
“Dawn?” Dash’s voice was lower, commanding. “What did you recognize?”
She turned back to him. Better to see his eyes rather than Seth’s.
“The labs,” she whispered, her gaze flicking to Callan. “The eyes, the voice, the underlying scent. It was the soldier…” She inhaled roughly and jerked her gaze from them, her jaw tightening.
“No.” Callan’s growl rumbled from his throat. “He’s dead. They’re all dead, Dawn.”
She shook her head. “H