Page 12 of Stygian's Honor


  right lied to the Breeds, but the hint of deception was always there.

  “This has nothing to do with me.” Liza clenched her teeth over the words, the anger and hurt clearly sensed by all the Breeds there.

  Especially by Stygian.

  “You, Claire and Chelsea now have everything to do with this, Liza.” Terran breathed out roughly, accepting the truth himself when before, he had fought it. “I’m sorry. If there was something I could do to stop this—”

  She gave a hard shake of her head, obviously refusing to argue with Terran for some reason. “I understand.”

  But did she?

  Stygian could see her face, her eyes.

  Understanding wasn’t there.

  But neither was resentment. At least, not toward Terran.

  “If we had the information we needed, if we had the genetic profiles in the database that matched Gideon’s, then we could find him. Find him, and we’ll find the others,” Stygian informed her. “Find them all, Liza, and this all goes away.”

  The scent of Terran’s anger was unmistakable, just as the scent of Liza’s rejection of the solution swirled through the room. The energy tightened his chest.

  She agreed with Terran’s decision.

  Son of a bitch. She was agreeing to give in, to end this fight for her independence rather than see the Navajo open that Genetic Database to the Breeds. What the hell did those records hold that caused the Navajo to be so frightened?

  He hadn’t met a single member of the Navajo Council or citizen of Window Rock who didn’t feel the same way. Every member in a position to aid the Breeds’ cause would die before giving up the information. Even for a cause as worthy as Amber’s.

  “We have a message out to every member who has donated to the Genetic Database,” Terran stated roughly, “requesting any member willing to release their genetic information come forward. None have. Until the Breed in question makes that request, the database cannot be opened to match the profile.”

  And only the requesting Breed could receive the information.

  They could have made the idea work if they had known of a single Breed born of Gideon’s dam. Unfortunately, to their knowledge, those littermates had all been destroyed long ago.

  The suspicion that Gideon would take refuge with blood relations was high. He would know the Breeds would encounter a roadblock in tracking him through bloodlines, just as Gideon would know Jonas would use every means possible to do just that.

  Liza’s lips parted in an irate, feminine grimace that was uniquely charming and yet filled with such emotional distress that it was all Stygian could do to hold back a snarl of fury.

  Now he knew exactly why Breeds were so damned irritable when their mates were.

  “I want to go home.” She inhaled wearily, and suddenly, Stygian could feel the exhaustion pulling at her.

  Weariness and uncertainty and a sense of defeat.

  Because she knew she couldn’t go home. She knew the place she had called home would be denied to her until Honor, Fawn, Judd and Gideon were together.

  The weariness and uncertainty he could understand. He could even allow it. The defeat was another thing entirely.

  “Not tonight. The damage to the house hasn’t been repaired yet, and we’re still trying to track down a few leads concerning the two Breeds Claire killed. A room has been reserved here for you. You can return to the house when it’s safe again,” Stygian assured her, his fists clenching at his sides with the need to go to her.

  That need was a hunger that raged and tore at his guts, yet he could sense the knowledge that doing so right now would do more harm than good. Liza didn’t want his strength at the moment, she needed her own. And she would never be certain she had done all she could to escape the obstacles fate had placed in her path at the moment.

  “He’s right, Liza.” Terran turned to her as Stygian watched her lips part and the gleam of battle enter her gaze. “Let us get the windows repaired and get some additional security to the house. Then we’ll rethink the matter.”

  Once again, she bowed down to Terran’s request when she was ready and eager to fight Stygian’s.

  His back teeth clenched to the point that he was amazed his teeth didn’t shatter with the pressure.

  “What will it really matter, Terran?” Liza asked then, the bitter disillusionment in her gaze beginning to bother Stygian in ways he couldn’t explain, even to himself. “The only difference between the Genetics Council and the Breeds is the manner in which they manage to extract the information from their victims.” She turned back to Jonas then. “It doesn’t matter how they hurt me, how they torture me or how much of it they make my father watch. There’s no way he can access that information, Mr. Wyatt. There’s no way I can access it.”

  “Any information can be accessed, Ms. Johnson.” It was Rachel who stepped forward.

  Somber. Her face pale from lack of sleep, the dark circles beneath her eyes attesting to her worry and concern for her daughter, she spoke with the heavy knowledge of certainty.

  Liza shook her head. “Such information is too important to leave to chance, Rachel. The Navajo Genetic Database is the only one of its kind in the world. The only one that will allow the majority of the Breeds to find their place in the world. Just as their mothers, their grandmothers, their aunts and their cousins were taken from their home, their lands, their worlds.” The scent of her tears reached Stygian, as subtle as the first breeze of spring, as heated as summer’s kiss. “It’s the only way some families who lost relatives will ever learn what happened to them. Do you think the safeguards we have in place aren’t the best that could have been imagined or provided?”

  Rachel clasped her hands in front of her as she hunched her shoulders defensively. An unconscious gesture toward the possibility that the plans her mate had put in place to find the answers to save her daughter could fail.

  “It’s information,” Rachel said then. “Any time information is gathered, no matter where or by whom, when another knows of it, suspects it, then it’s in danger of discovery. The Navajo Genetic Database has been secure only because none knew of it outside a very small group and because those supplying their genetic information had a reason to remain quiet. But now, others who have no such loyalty to what you’ve gathered know of it, Liza. And unless it’s disbanded and all information destroyed, then it is at risk.”

  It was at risk.

  Liza stared back at the other woman and saw the tears shimmering in her eyes, the agony that resonated in her soul as she faced her daughter’s possible fate.

  Liza would give anything to help her save that perfect, sweet little girl.

  The database wasn’t going to save her, though.

  Finding Gideon wouldn’t save Amber.

  And Honor Roberts and Fawn Corrigan did not exist within the database.

  They did not exist within the Nation.

  “My father wouldn’t betray what he’s pledged himself to, even for me.” She turned to Stygian, that knowledge wrapping around in a certainty that raked across her already scarred soul. “He can’t betray what he himself has no access to. If you don’t believe me, ask Terran.”

  She turned to Isabelle’s father with an arched brow.

  Staring back at her for a long, silent moment, he finally nodded with a sharp motion of his head.

  “That’s true enough,” he agreed—then he had to spoil it. “But I agree with the Breeds, Liza. The Genetics Council would believe otherwise and they wouldn’t flinch at the thought of torture to get the answers they believe could be attained.”

  She felt betrayed. Betrayed and angry.

  She needed to get home. If she were stuck here in this hotel, how was she supposed to do her job?

  “Not to worry, Ms. Johnson, I’m certain your friends will find a way to stop by and say hello.” Jonas’s smile was tight and hard. “At least you left your comm-link home tonight.”

  “If I had known the lovely meeting we would have, I would have
made certain to pick it up before I left.”

  “Cullen has no business pulling you into this,” Terran bit out. “I’m sure your father will have something to say about it.”

  Lips tightening, she turned to Jonas. “And just what fairy tales have you been carrying to Terran, Mr. Wyatt?”

  “I don’t deal in fairy tales, Ms. Johnson,” he assured her coolly. “I deal in facts and nothing more.” There wasn’t an ounce of apology in his gaze or in his voice.

  Which left her only one alternative.

  “Father has known about it since it began, Terran.” She sighed wearily. “He’s always stood behind my decision to do what I felt was needed. He won’t back down from that decision.”

  God, she was tired.

  Too damned tired to put up with this crap much longer.

  Shoving her hands into the pockets of her cotton pants, she slowly turned back to Stygian, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I’m tired. Either take me home or show me my room. I think I’ve had enough for the day.”

  “I can do that,” he agreed.

  There was something about that agreement that just didn’t sit right with her.

  Something that just smacked of a man with an agenda.

  The arousal that burned between them was another warning.

  She’d warned him not to mate her without her knowledge.

  He hadn’t kissed her. He hadn’t taken her.

  But still, she swore she could smell the subtle intensity of the hunger burning between them.

  She shouldn’t be able to smell any such thing. But the delicate, barely there scent of a man and a woman merging still seemed to pique her sense of smell.

  And that knowledge terrified her in ways she didn’t want to face at the moment.

  “Where is my room then?” she asked.

  His hand lifted, rubbing at the back of his neck before his expression turned pure, predatory male.

  “With me,” he answered.

  The breath stilled in her chest, her heart constricting, the shame and rage burning inside her like a trail of lava seeping from her soul.

  His room.

  She so wasn’t surprised.

  “I don’t think so.” If she sounded belligerent, it might be because she was.

  “You’re going to hurt my feelings if you keep rejecting me, Liza.” His lashes lowered, the heat in the glitter of his gaze seared her senses.

  “You would have to have feelings first,” she snapped, certain that wasn’t at this moment.

  No man, or Breed, with any clue to what emotions were, could possibly stand and do what he had done to her tonight.

  Steal her independence.

  Take everything she was and not even allow her the chance to fight for it.

  “So where exactly would that be?” It was all she could do to force the word past her lips.

  She wasn’t going to bother to argue or to refuse to stay. They weren’t going to let her out of there tonight, and she was smart enough to know it.

  “Come on.” He held his hand out to her.

  Liza couldn’t force herself to take it. She couldn’t allow herself to touch him.

  Because she wanted him.

  She wanted him in spite of the fact that she felt manipulated as hell. She wanted him in spite of the knowledge that she was being used.

  Used to catch a killer.

  Used to save a child.

  But she was being used all the same.

  Slowly, his hand lowered.

  “This way.” Turning, he led her from Jonas’s suite as she ignored Isabelle’s whisper of her name.

  Once the door closed behind them, he moved up the hall, glancing back only once to see if she followed.

  While she was breaking apart inside and didn’t know why.

  While her own screams echoed inside her head and she didn’t know where those screams came from, or why.

  While she ached for him as she had never ached for anything in her life.

  Liza followed.

  “Are you returning?”

  The harsh tone pierced at Audi Johnson’s heart.

  He sat in the back of the SUV as it raced for the airport so torn inside that his soul felt ragged and raw.

  He held the phone with one hand, his wife’s hand with the other and stared out the window at the city lights while the driver battled traffic, pedestrians and time.

  “I’m heading for the airport now,” he answered.

  “Claire is being guarded,” he was told. “Liza is under the protection of the Breeds.”

  Audi’s eyes closed briefly before he opened them once again.

  “Have the Six come together yet?” he asked.

  “Only two have received the vision to return,” he was told. “That time is nearing, but it isn’t here yet.”

  He had to fight back his tears and fight back the knowledge that when it happened, he would lose more than he had ever imagined possible.

  He had never believed he would be unable to save his child from this. That once again, he would lose her. God knew he had fought, he had manipulated and used every string he could pull to save her from this day, always believing it was possible. Always believing he could keep her from ever hurting again.

  Beside him, his wife fought back a sob that escaped despite the battle.

  “We’ll be there as soon as possible,” he told the other man.

  “We’ll be awaiting you.”

  The call disconnected.

  The feel of Jane’s shoulders trembling had him releasing her hand to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered tearfully, her fingers clenching the light jacket he wore as her tears dampened the cloth. “Please, Audi, don’t let me lose her again. Please.”

  He had to fight back his own tears, his sense of failure.

  “We have no choice.” The sound of his own voice, rough with the tears trapped inside him, scraped against his senses. “We agreed, Jane. For their lives, we agreed. And she’s our daughter. She needs us.”

  Ah, God, it hurt.

  His guts were shredding, his chest felt as though jagged nails were tearing across it with demonic satisfaction.

  “She’s my baby,” Jane sobbed painfully, her pain another jagged tear into her heart. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, Audi. She wasn’t supposed to be taken from us again.”

  “No one will take her. I’ll keep her safe,” he swore, yet he knew what he was facing. It was an empty promise at best, and Jane knew it.

  “Why do they want her?” Her fists clenched against his chest as she trembled with her anger. “Why, Audi? Why would they come for her? Liza is nothing to them. There’s no way she can be of use to them. There’s no way anyone could know—” The last was barely a breath of sound.

  Audi knew why, just as he knew the danger his daughter faced because of it.

  “I’ll fix it, Jane,” he promised, closing his eyes and praying that he wasn’t lying to his wife for the second time in their marriage.

  Just as he prayed this daughter didn’t pay for his failure to protect her as the first had. God help him, Liza was the child he and Jane had always dreamed of. She was a fighter, intelligent and adept, compassionate and loving. There wasn’t a manipulative bone in her body or a single death wish to torture her family.

  She had given their lives purpose at a time when he had wondered if they would drift forever in a haze of guilt that never seemed to find relief.

  Yet, from the moment she had opened her eyes and called him “Dad,” he had felt a healing begin. Just as Jane had.

  She was a true mother to Liza.

  Their daughter had learned to cook, to clean, to laugh and to tease. She had talked him into teaching her how to skate, how to rock climb, and finally, she had allowed him to teach her how to drive.

  If he lost her—

  God help them both if they lost her.

  CHAPTER 10

  Liza had learned years
before exactly how to avoid the facts of life.

  Stepping into the hotel room and seeing the two beds separated by a small table, she sighed heavily.

  “Really?” She turned back to him in disbelief. “They didn’t have a larger room? A suite, perhaps?”

  His shoulders lifted, a rakish smile curling his lips despite the somberness in his dark eyes. “Hotel’s all booked up, sweetheart.”

  Of course it was.

  “You have a few of your sleep shirts in the wardrobe.” He indicated the tall entertainment center with its four drawers beneath the screen. “Isabelle had one of the officers who followed us to the hotel go back for them. There are clothes in there as well.”

  “Great, some guy pawing through my clothes.” It was all she could do to hold back a shudder at the thought.

  “It wasn’t like that, Liza.” The frustration in his voice only seemed to infuriate her further.

  Turning on him, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and confronted him with all the anger she couldn’t seem to bury. “It wasn’t like what, Stygian? Like some asshole pawing through my silk panties and bras? Do you think they didn’t snicker as they chose the gowns? That they didn’t imagine me naked or wearing one of the silk camisoles I sleep in? Since when are Breeds any better than any other man when it comes to lust?”

  Dropping her arms, she turned to stalk to the bathroom, to get away from him. To strangle the fury tearing through her before she choked them both with it.

  Before she was entirely certain what was happening, Liza found herself being pulled around and hauled against Stygian’s chest, his large hand still holding the arm he had gripped to pull her to him.

  “Do you really believe I would allow another man to do something so damned intimate?” he growled, shocking her.

  That was possessiveness in his voice. That low, primal growl held a vein of pure, determined ownership that at once pricked her independence and pulled at the woman who longed to belong—

  To something. To someone.

  “I don’t really know what you would do, do I, Stygian?” Her breathing was suddenly rough, heavy.

  The need to know if Isabelle had been right about a Breed’s kiss being addictive was suddenly overwhelming. If not addictive, then what about the aphrodisiac it was supposed to contain?

  She licked her lips, suddenly desperate for the answer.

  “No male Breed pawed through your clothing, your silk, or your gowns,” he snarled down at her. “Ashley chose each piece and she alone packed it before the Breed who drove her back to the house returned her to the hotel. Never, ever, Liza”—his lips were so close to hers now that she swore she could almost feel them against hers—“would I allow another man to touch what you would wear so intimately against your flesh.”

  Breathing was a chore. Her chest was so tight with the need to hold back the moan rising inside it that she felt light-headed from the battle. Every second that she felt the heat of his chest sinking past their clothing to the sensitive, peaked hardness of her nipples, she could feel the flesh between her thighs growing wetter.

  She wanted him.

  She had never wanted a man in her life. She had thought that part of herself must have surely died in the wreck when she was fifteen. Before then, there had been very little interest in the opposite sex. Afterward, there had been none.

  Until Stygian.

  “I hate this,” she suddenly whispered as her fingers curled against the powerful muscles of his chest, desperate to keep herself from ripping at his body.

  “Hate what?” His free hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing against the plump curve of her lower lip then.

  Oh, he knew what. She could see it in the sudden intensity of his gaze, feel it whipping through the air between them and torturing them both with the hungry need for it.

  As her tongue swiped over the painful dryness of her lips, it licked over the tip of his thumb. The sudden, explosive taste of salty male flesh rushed through her senses, overtaking them for one destructive second.

  “I’ve never wanted—” Her breathing hitched painfully. “I never wanted this, Stygian. I didn’t want to be torn apart like this. To be destroyed by something I couldn’t control or teased by a man who’s far too aware of my weaknesses.”

  She couldn’t bear it. To be played with. To ache an