“More coffee, Debra, if you don’t mind and a slice of that banana cream pie if you have any left.”
Cassa watched the stranger silently. In his fifties, with a wide, friendly smile and dark brown eyes. Thick, coarse gray hair was brushed back from his face, revealing strong, prominent bones.
Farmer Brown. A country boy in his maturity. He was the epitome of the strength and endurance of the mountains.
“A few slices, Walt, and it’s fresh.” The youthful Debra flashed the stranger a smile before turning to Cassa. “Anything else for you?”
“I’ll take the pie as well,” Cassa said. “And more coffee.”
Debra moved off as Cassa turned and glanced over at the Breeds still sitting several booths away from them.
“You have excellent timing,” she told Walt with a mocking smile. “Though I doubt Myron was going to tell me anything more than he already had.”
Walt arched a brow. “Really? Most people say my timing sucks. But that’s okay, whatever you think.” He leaned forward slowly. “Don’t change nothin’ though. Myron’s wife is lookin’ for him. And I think he said something about you needing a ride to the airport.”
Cassa almost grinned.
Cassa refused the offer. “Not quite yet. I haven’t seen Myron for a while, I would have liked to have caught up with him.”
Walt breathed out heavily at that. “He and Patricia have been having a hard time lately. When I saw him in here, I thought I’d let him know she was looking for him.”
Cassa frowned at that. Myron and Patricia were always at odds with each other. There had been times over the years that Cassa had wondered why they stayed together. And now she was beginning to wonder why everyone thought they needed to rescue Myron from Cassa.
“I know Myron knows you pretty well,” Walt stated as Debra set the coffee and pie on the table before leaving. “He’s spoken of you often.”
“Has he really?” Cassa ignored her own pie and braced her arms on the table as she watched him curiously. “Good things I hope.”
Walt laughed at that. “Pretty much what Cabal says about you. Stubborn. Tenacious. A bulldog when you’re after a story. I consider those compliments.”
Cassa continued to stare back at him with a hint of a question. Namely, why the hell Cabal would discuss her with anyone, let alone this old man.
“Cabal’s discussed me with you?” There was a tinge of anger in her voice that Cassa fought back. She had to ignore Cabal and any emotion that arose in her concerning him. She couldn’t allow herself to be taken by a man that would see her as no more than a possession. He would try to wrap her up, lock her up. And he’d proven he’d go to any lengths to do it.
Walt gazed around the diner, his eyes lingering on the two Breeds with narrow-eyed intent. Seconds later the two men glared back at him irately, but rose from their seats and headed to the counter to pay for their coffee.
“I’m impressed,” Cassa told her. “They don’t seem the sort to give up so easily.” Most Breeds didn’t.
Walt laughed at that, his hazel eyes twinkling. “I know them. They’re nosy as hell, but not really much trouble.”
Not exactly an honest description of any Breed. They were all trouble with a capital T, and those two Breeds were more than just nosy.
“So tell me, Ms. Hawkins, what are you looking for in Glen Ferris that has Myron looking as hunted as a Breed in Council territory?” Walt stared back at her curiously, his rough-hewn face creased into lines of sincerity.
Small towns, you had to love them, Cassa thought.
“David Banks. Anomalies. Anything to add to my story about his disappearance,” she answered blithely as she pulled her notebook free, snapped her pen open and then stared back at him expectantly. “Do you have any information?”
Walt laughed. “Banks was liked by some, hated by others. There was no in-between.” He shrugged. “I suspect he managed to slip and fall into the river. I figure they’ll find his body sometime around spring or so. Hell of a way to go if you ask me.”
She tilted her head and watched him silently for long moments.
“You seem pretty certain that was how he went,” she commented.
“Certain as I can be,” he drawled as he finished his pie. “Banks liked to play with Phillip Brandenmore and Horace Engalls quite a bit as well. Maybe they offed him.”
Or maybe someone was trying to throw up a hell of a smoke screen.
“Maybe.” She smiled tightly, pulled some money from her jeans and laid it on the table for the pie and coffee that she had barely touched. “Thank you anyway, Walt.”
She rose from her chair to leave, aware that the old man rose as well and followed her out of the restaurant.
“Ms. Hawkins.” Cassa paused as Walt’s voice hardened.
“Yes?” She turned back to him with a frown.
“Whatever you’re looking for here in Glen Ferris, you can trust me, if you’d be honest enough to let me know exactly what you need,” he said, his expression sober, sincere. “Let me help.”
“I’m sure Cabal wouldn’t approve,” Cassa warned him mockingly. “Jonas definitely wouldn’t.”
If the old man knew Cabal, then no doubt he knew Jonas. Cassa couldn’t bring herself to trust him though, whether Cabal or Jonas approved or not. There was something about “Walt” that warned her he was hiding much more than he was revealing.
Walt snorted at that. “Those two don’t scare me. They never have, and they won’t start now. You just have to know how to handle them.” He winked back in amusement. “A long chair and a sharp whip. It works every time.”
Cassa laughed, shaking her head. No truer words were ever spoken.
“Until they take the whip and break the chair?” she asked as they moved down the sidewalk.
“Well, there’s always that.” Walt laughed. “The idea though is to keep them from getting that close.”
As Cassa started to laugh at the comment, a shadow moving at her side had both her and the old gentleman twisting around. Cabal lounged against the brick face of the café, his dark gold brow arched, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Breeds aren’t that easy to control or to contain,” he informed them both, as he straightened and regarded them with mocking amusement. “But you can keep dreaming if you like.” He turned to Walt with a slow grin. “Good to see you, old man. How’s the fishing?”
“The fishing is damned good,” Walt assured him with an easy grin. “You should go out with me one day.”
“When time allows, Walt,” Cabal promised. “I’m a little busy right now.”
Cassa felt her heart spike, her flesh grow sensitive. Her breasts became swollen, her nipples pressing hard and tight against the bra she wore beneath her shirt as he turned his gaze back to her.
“So, you going to take Walt’s advice on how to handle Breeds?” he asked, his smile wicked.
“Fairy tales aren’t my thing,” Cassa informed him. “Unlike Walt, I know you and Jonas much too well to fall into that trap.”
But that didn’t keep her from flushing with heated hunger as his fingers wrapped around her upper arm. She swore she could feel his hand through the material of her jacket and the T-shirt she wore beneath. The heat of his fingers, the raspy feel of them, calloused and sensual—she swore she could almost feel his touch straight to the aching center of her clit.
She was wet, sensitive. The brush of her silk panties against her folds had her restraining a shiver of pleasure. And he knew it. Damn him.
“Oh, I know them well enough.” Walt smiled. “I just prefer to see the good in them rather than the bad. If there’s any bad to see.” He winked back suggestively. “Hell of a position for an old man to take, huh?”
It was a hell of a position for anyone to take in any situation. The rose-colored glasses were always put on at the most painful of times, and recovering from them wasn’t always possible.
“It’s a hell of a position for anyone to take,” Cassa muttered as sh
e tugged at the hold Cabal had on her arm, before glaring at him. “Let me go.”
“Say please.” His smile was predatory and sent a tingle of arousal rushing through her body.
He knew what he was doing to her, and he was doing it deliberately. She could see it in his face, in the glitter of his green and amber gaze.
“Please.” She pushed the word through clenched teeth.
She didn’t like the feeling of warmth that overcame her, or the hunger she could feel rushing through her system. She didn’t like the emotions or the sensations that swept through her each time he was near. She especially didn’t like them amped up as they were now.
“I’ll be more than happy to after we talk,” he assured her, before turning to the old man with a brief “Later, Walt.”
His grip firmed on her arm as he began moving down the sidewalk, ignoring her silent protest as she tugged at his grip once again.
He was too forceful, too dominant. She wanted to kick him, but she had a feeling it would do very little good. Damned Breeds, stubborn bastards.
“Stop fighting me, Cassa,” he growled as she tried to jerk her arm out of his grip once more. “It’s time we talk.”
“Time we talk or time that I listen to you order me out of town again?” Her voice was sugary sweet. “Sorry, Cabal, but I’m rather busy today. Perhaps tomorrow.”
Turning the corner, he yanked her into the diner’s parking lot and strode along the parked cars. His fingers were still locked around her arm, pulling her behind him. Fighting his hold only made her angrier, simply because he acted as though he didn’t even notice the attempts.
“Here we go.” He stopped at the black SUV parked at the back of the lot and pressed the remote. The doors unlocked, and he gripped the handle and opened the driver’s side door. “Will you get in and stay put?”
“Not on your life.” She smiled back cheerily. “Want to tie me in the seat?” She looked around, and wasn’t it just her luck, there wasn’t a damned soul anywhere near. “Looks to me like the coast is clear if that’s your intention.”
“I’m going to get tired of these accusations, Cassa,” he said softly. “There is no way I’d hurt you, and you know it.”
His gaze flickered over her, heated and intense. There was sex in his eyes. Lust tightened his features and gave him a savage, honed appearance.
“I need you, Cassa. Now,” he growled.
Cassa lost the sarcasm. She felt her expression go blank with the hunger that rumbled in his voice and reflected in his gaze now.
“And that’s all that matters? Where were you last night? This morning?”
Where had he been when she awoke needing his touch? Needing him to hold her. She could feel the hunger for him deepening now though, the need, a steady ache blooming in her womb. She had always known it would take little more than one of those sizzling looks to have her melting at his feet. And she was right. That was all it was taking.
“Like you, I had things to do.” He reached up and touched her jaw with the backs of his fingers. “You’re taking the hormones, and evidently they’re working. You would have called my cell otherwise.”
“Begged for your attention, you mean?” She huffed bitterly. “Yeah, let me get right to my knees and start on that.”
“You wouldn’t have to beg, Cassa.” His tone became seductive, deep with sensual promise.
She wanted to shake her head, but could only stare up at him in surprise now.
“You’re playing a game.” She knew he was. “You think you can seduce me out of this story.”
His head jerked back as anger lit his gaze. “Seduction?” He growled. “I barely think so, mate. I doubt I could seduce you into agreeing the sky was blue if you wanted to believe it was green. I have no pretenses that you could ever be persuaded so easily to give up a story.”
“But you’ll try,” she accused him, anger and knowledge churning inside her as the need wrapped around her senses, tormenting her.
Touch. He was touching her, and touch was something she had denied herself for far too many years. She needed him. Ached for him.
His head lowered again, his gaze locked with hers as his lips whispered a kiss along her lips. “So resist me, Cassa. That’s all you have to do is walk away. If you can. Walk away, or accept the fact that the fight is over. You’re my mate. And that’s something that may well destroy both of us.”
◆ CHAPTER 12 ◆
He couldn’t touch her skin-to-skin, but now that he had, he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t kiss her lips-to-lips, but once that line had been crossed, he hungered for her kiss. He’d told himself for so long that he couldn’t have her. It was his place to protect her, his place to hold back the mating heat and ensure her safety, her security.
The past years had been hell, forcing himself to stand back, to stay away. Refusing himself the slightest touch of her soft flesh.
“You could try telling me what the hell is going on.”
Cabal wanted to howl in fury as she pulled back, crossed her arms over her breasts and glared back at him. She was good at that. The woman could glare with those stormy gray eyes like no man’s business.
“I could try.” He eased back, his gaze going over the parking lot as he tried to sort out the emotions that assailed him each time he was near her.
“But you won’t?” Her gaze narrowed on him and he wanted to smile. Damn her, she made him forget all the reasons why he shouldn’t have allowed the mating heat to begin here.
“I didn’t say that.” He gripped her arm again, pulled her back from the SUV and opened the door.
“Manhandling me only pisses me off.” She managed to jerk her arm out of his grip as he stared back at her in surprise.
“Manhandling you?” he questioned her abruptly. Was that why she fought his hold each time he tried to keep her in place? She thought he was manhandling her? “Cassa, you’re like a damned windup toy. You never stand still for too long. How the hell am I supposed to keep you covered if I can’t keep you within a safe area?”
She knew the Breeds were still targets, and their women even more so. He could feel the gun sights on him, even now. He was always watched, always threatened—and yet she seemed oblivious to it.
“I don’t need you to keep me safe,” she snapped back. “I’m not the one that’s a target, Cabal. Worry about your own safety and I’ll worry about mine.”
His teeth clenched almost violently as a wave of lust shot through his senses. Damned independent woman. It was like dealing with a Breed. He wondered if she had any concept of how well she resembled one. It was obvious she had been around the alpha mates too long; their independent, argumentative ways were rubbing off on her.
“How about I do what I do best, and watch both our backs?” he growled as he waved her into the passenger seat. “Now, would you like to talk, or do you want to stand here arguing for the rest of the day?”
He saw the brief battle in her eyes and swore she was debating whether or not to stand there arguing with him.
“Talk?” she finally asked.
“What the hell do you want me to do, promise I’m not going to touch you? We’re in the middle of mating heat. I want to fuck you so bad that my dick’s throbbing like an open wound.” He could feel every muscle in his body tightening in protest. “Get in the vehicle, Cassa, before I go about my own business and leave you standing here.”
In the cold and the wind? That wasn’t likely; his protective instincts toward her were becoming much too honed, too sharp to ever allow him to do that. She was aroused, nearly to the point that she was in pain herself. He wouldn’t allow that to last much longer.
“A promise would have been nice,” she muttered, but she moved past him, ignored his outstretched hand and hopped into the seat.
Cabal closed the door before allowing a rumble of displeasure to vibrate in his throat. He would have a mate with a mouth that would sear a man’s flesh at fifty paces.
His brother sometimes said that a
t least he was never bored since mating his wife, Scheme. Tanner often remarked that life was interesting now. Cabal definitely wasn’t bored with Cassa, could never imagine himself being bored, but damn if he wasn’t ready to pull his own hair out.
Jumping into the driver’s seat, he slammed his door, started the ignition, then backed out of his parking slot. Remaining quiet, he turned onto Main Street before heading out of town to the small cabin he’d rented in the state park.
Cassa remained silent as well, which only had the tension tightening through his body. He could smell her emotions, her arousal and the hint of fear she always carried whenever he was around.
It tore at something inside him to know that she feared him, even a little bit. And it was fear of him. He knew the scent of it, he smelled it often enough from others. Where it rarely bothered him at any other time, it bothered him now. To know that something so elemental as her trust in him was denied him sent a shard of disappointment raging through him.
Maneuvering the SUV along the mountainous roads, he glanced over at her from time to time, taking in her calm profile. The thick waves of her dark blond hair flowed around her face and shoulders, fell over her breasts and down her back.
His fingers itched to bury themselves in that silken mass, and he found that denying himself was only making the hunger grow. He felt lost in the need rising inside him. That need was threatening his control and the assignment he was on. She threatened the assignment he was on.
By the time he pulled the vehicle into the small driveway of the cabin he’d rented, Cabal felt as though his control had been stretched to its limits. It was the scent of her. Subtly sweet, heated with a hint of wild desire.
That was what tempted him past bearing, he decided, as he stopped the vehicle in front of the wide front porch and turned off the ignition. That hint of wild spice in her arousal.
“Here we are,” he announced as he turned to her.
“Convenient.” Her smile was tight as she turned to him before opening her door. “What are we, a few miles from that little valley I was looking for?”
Two maybe. He was surprised that she realized that.
“You have a damned good sense of direction,” he said, com plimenting her as he opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, before loping to her side to help her out. Not that she needed any help. She was jumping out of the SUV as he moved to open the door. He should have known she would be too damned independent to wait for a man to do anything for her.
“My sense of direction has always been excellent,” she informed him as he placed his hand at the small of her back and led her to the front door.
The cabin was large and roomy. The lower floor, with its wide living room, spacious kitchen and spare bedroom, was neat and open. Upstairs, the master bedroom overlooked the door, and held a large master bath.
The rental cabin was built for year-round stay, and afforded plenty of room for the additional Breeds working the assignment with Cabal, when they were needed.
“Nice place,” she said as he closed the door behind them, then silently locked it.
“It works.” He shrugged, moving ahead of her. “Coffee?”
The last thing either of them needed was coffee. The caffeine played hell with mating heat and they both knew it.
“Sure.” Her smile was knowing, mocking, as she followed him into the open kitchen. She knew what caffeine did to the system, and she was daring him just as fiercely as he was daring her now. “Then we can talk.”
Talk wasn’t exactly what he had on his mind. Laying her down and licking her from head to toe—now that idea held some merit. He was curious though. How much longer would the mating hormone treatment she was taking allow her to hold out? She was doing damned good. A hell of a lot better than he was actually.
“Sure, we’ll talk.” He wasn’t promising what they would talk about though.
Awareness of her tingled over his flesh like an invisible caress and sent a shard of aching loneliness tearing through him. He knew what he was missing by holding back; he knew the completion he could find by claiming his mate.
But he also knew what he was risking if he allowed his emotions to become involved any more than they already were. He was risking his very soul, as well as hers. Unlike other Breed enforcers Cabal was a covert enforcer. He was unregistered and known for his complete lack of regulation. He was a suicide operative. He took the jobs the other enforcers couldn’t because of Breed Law or protocol. He took the jobs with a fatality rate much higher than most.
He was a mate now though. If anything happened to him, then the hell Cassa would live through was something he didn’t want to contemplate.
Once this mission was over, his enforcer status would have to be reconsidered. There were plenty of other Breeds who could take his place, and honestly, he thought he might be more than happy to step aside for them.
“What do you intend to talk about then? The fact that you don’t want me for a mate, or the one where it’s already too damned late to do anything about it?” There was a snap to her tone that had him turning and staring back at her silently.
Hell, he wouldn’t have imagined that mating could have started with something so simple as his blood against her tongue. She couldn’t have done more than taken a drop of his blood, but somehow, it had been enough.
Bullshit. He’d become more enraged than ever when he’d seen Cassa and her husband in the control room of the facility he thought he would die within. He’d watched her fight to release him, watched Douglas’s glee at the blood and death.
He’d claimed her then, he thought. Before he’d ever escaped that pit, he’d known he would claim her.
He could smell the scent of her desire now, almost taste it on the air around them. The night of his rescue he had smelled her fear, her anger. He’d smelled her rage and her pain. And when she had touched her finger to his face, then brought that finger to her lips, he had sworn he had tasted her tears and her regret in the air around them.
“Or we could talk about H. R. Alonzo’s dead body and the reason why the Breeds are protecting a killer.”
He could tell by the sound of her voice exactly which subject she was forging the most interest in. Her body was heating by the moment, but that sharp little mind of hers wanted answers first.
“The Breeds are not protecting a killer,” he informed her as he finished preparing the coffee and turned back to her. “We’re investigating David Banks’s disappearance, Cassa.”
She gave a delicate, ladylike snort. “Bull. You know the information I was sent, Cabal, don’t try to lie to me. I know you’ve managed to access my files as well as the emails from my server. You have my laptop tapped. I’m not stupid. You know exactly what I have, just as I know what you’re covering up.”
She was enough to make a hardened, coldhearted Breed want to laugh, or to at least smile.
She was right. He knew the information she had. He was doing nothing more than delaying the inevitable by pretending that he didn’t.
The soft metallic ring of the coffeepot completing its cycle sounded behind him. Grabbing two cups from the hooks beneath the counter, he poured the aromatic, decaffeinated brew into them and carried the cups to the long counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area.