Their destination was the grouping of small, narrow openings into the cliff houses above. Weathered by sand and rain, the openings created dark, shadowed crevices with a narrow ledge running between them.
In the heat of the day, the climb sapped her energy as perspiration poured from her even before they reached the first set of small caves. Megan had been amazed that the large, brawny Coyotes could have existed for more than a few hours inside them, until she flattened herself against the stone floor and scooted in.
"The cave is much larger inside," she called back as she flipped on the flashlight she carried before moving further inside. The risk of rattlers was high in the area, not to mention a dozen other poisonous denizens of the desert. The caves were cool in the heat of the day, and warmer in the cold of night-the perfect hidden shelter for wildlife.
There was nothing to be found but a lingering, subtly noxious smell. Her senses detected no danger, no presence of life. Only the cold, evil intent that had filled the Coyotes.
"Those boys stink," she muttered as she pushed herself farther into the cave and made room for Braden's larger body.
"Yes, they do at that." Unfortunately, the distracting scent of the remnants of the Coyote Breeds' body odor was instantly overshadowed by the smell of manly heat that tempted the senses and made her erogenous zones wake up and howl. She clenched her thighs, feeling the wet proof of her attraction to him dampening the outer curves of her cunt.
And he wasn't exactly uninterested. She flushed as his gaze touched her; the heavy-lidded, sensual awareness moving over his expression was less than comforting.
Rather than staring at the hard body moving across from her, she moved
the light over the cave walls. The cave extended well back into the ridge, easily ten feet wide and perhaps twelve long, with several wide fissures opening into the wall and leading further back into the cliff.
"I had no idea the cliff houses were this large," she murmured, directing the beam of light to the widest fissure. It looked like a doorway opening into stone.
"That fissure leads to another inner cavern at the base of the cliff. I tracked them that far before I found the tunnel that led to the one they had trapped you inside. I don't believe they had explored far though; the tunnels are like a maze as you get deeper into the ridge."
She glanced at him as he spoke, watching the confidence in the way he began to move about the cliff house.
"So what are we looking for? " She rose to her feet, the ceiling barely high enough to allow her to straighten.
Braden's shoulders were stooped, his head lowered as he glanced back at her.
"Jonas and his men didn't have time to go through the two upper caverns fully," he said. "I just want to be certain nothing was missed."
"How did you manage to keep from getting lost in the tunnels?" The
thought of an inner maze within the stone was daunting, and she didn't care to attempt to search one.
"A good sense of direction." Amusement laced his voice. "Don't worry; the tunnels shouldn't pose a problem. They wouldn't have left their vantage point to search them. They were waiting on you, and knew you weren't likely to use them."
She inhaled roughly before moving to the opposite wall and shining the light closely on it. She didn't want to think about the Coyotes waiting on her, watching for her.
"These haven't been here long." She ran her fingers over the stone, marveling at the forces that had created them. "The storms that washed out this gully were horrible. Before it was nothing more than a small chasm. Now it's almost a secret stone wonderland. I'll have to let the cavers' association know about these tunnels so they can explore and map them."
It was imperative to get the proper GPS trackers within the tunnels and caves in case the unwary became lost within them.
"And another of nature's secrets becomes unraveled," Braden murmured.
"But lives are saved." She shrugged at the faint condemnation.
"Especially the children who lose their way so easily."
How many times had she done exactly that as a child? Too many to count. Her father, even now, told the hairraising stories of attempting to find her during the times she had disappeared into a cave or an unknown part of the desert.
"Some secrets were meant to stay hidden." His voice was tight now, tense with a deep-seated anger as he investigated one of the ledges on the other side of the cave.
She assumed he meant the secrets the scientists had unraveled in creating the Breeds. From the news stories she had watched, she knew the controversy over Breed Rights was fueled by the Purists' beliefs that their animal DNA
disqualified them from the description of human. As though the human DNA had no significant value. It was insanity, the racism and prejudice that was growing against the Breeds. And though she could hear his anger, feel it distantly, it wasn't beating at her head, raw and painful. It was just there naturally. Allowing her to breathe and to function. The anomaly was comforting - confusing, but comforting.
"Nature does what she believes is right." She leaned against the rock wall, staring at his broad back curiously.
"Do you think you would be here if you weren't considered a worthy life, Braden?' She tilted her head as he turned back to face her slowly.
His eyes were narrowed in the dim light that filled the cave, his expression pensive.
"I wouldn't fight for it daily if I didn't consider it worthy," he assured her, his lips quirking into a mocking smile before he turned back to whatever he had been investigating. "I just believe some things were not meant to be tampered with, Creation being but one of them."
He was accepting of who he was, of what he was. But she heard the regret in his voice as well. Perhaps it was the world in general that disappointed him. As it did her.
She cleared her throat, nervous. "Sometimes tampering creates something beautiful," she finally whispered, staring back at him, licking her lips as his gaze flickered with surprise.
"Back to work," she muttered, turning away from him before she let her wayward emotions get her into trouble.
Hadn't she learned better more than once?
Shaking her head, she turned back to the job at hand, shining the light
deep into the opening that led farther into the land. The light beam caught on a piece of folded paper, tucked beneath the outcropping of a rock. Moving into the tunnel, she bent and pulled it free before aiming the light on it. The computer-printed schedule was damning.
Fields, Megan. Patrol Schedule. Her fingers rubbed over the paper as hatred poured from it. Personal hatred. This wasn't the impersonal evil of the Coyote Breeds. It was closer. Familiar. She knew the feeling, the psychic imprint left by all creatures once they touched something. She bit her lip, frowning down at the paper as she continued to rub her fingers over it. The emotion was faint, but vicious. Whoever had printed out this schedule had known what awaited her. Known and enjoyed the feeling of power that came from the knowledge.
"What is it?'
Megan jumped in startled awareness as she heard , Braden's voice at her ear, only then realizing how easily he had slipped up on her.
"This is from the computers at the sheriff's office." She frowned down at the locator numbers at the top of the printout. "The printer automatically sets the locator numbers to display the location of the office printing it ."
"Are they printed out often?" Braden reached out, lifting the paper from her hand as she turned to face him.
Megan shrugged. "Not that often. I get a copy and Lance has his copy. Unless someone prints out more. But you need the password to get into the system."
"It's still not a foolproof system." He shook his head slowly, staring down at the paper a moment longer before refolding it and txcking it into his pocket. ''I'll send it to the labs and see if they can pick up any prints from it. Though I doubt any but those of the Coyote who carried it show up after all this time."
"From what I've heard of the Council, they don't go after high-profile or well-guarded women," she said then, remembering the reports she had watched over the years. "They kidnap runaways. or women who are destitute, with no family. And they don't just mark one for death. Why change their routine now?"
She wasn't stupid. There had to be something more that they were after.
"You're right." He reached up, pushing back the fringes of hair that fell over her face, his golden eyes narrowing as she stared back at him.
"There is something more they want. Unfortunately, I have no idea what it is. Until I learn, we'll fight together. No going off alone. Megan. Trust me to let you fight and to live."
Her lips parted at his statement while her heart began to race at his nearness. She should be excited about the opportunity to fight, not about the chance to be a part of this man's life.
His lips quirked, a soft smile softening the features of his face. "You're surprised?"
"A bit," she admitted, aware that his hand now cupped the side of her neck, his thumb smoothing over the tender flesh just beneath her ear. The intimacy that wrapped around them seemed to invade every cell of her body.
"Why?" He tilted his head.
She shrugged, uncertain within the morass of arousal and emotions she could feel building within her. Braden, as maddening as he could be, drew her to him in ways she found impossible to fight. She wanted his arms around her, wanted his touch and his kiss; but even more, she wanted the man.
"Why have you stayed here?' he asked her then. "I see the wildness in your eyes, Megan, the need to run free, to fight and to dance within the flames of life. You let Lance give you a Wounder rather than a weapon, and allow yourself to be smothered in this corner you exist within. Why?"
A frown snapped between her brows as the shame of her failure to fight and control her Empathy filled her once again. "This is my home," She tried to shake off his touch.
"This isn't your life." He spoke the words that she shied away from daily.
"This isn't your business." She stepped away from him, ignoring the instant chill to her body as she lost his warmth.
"This is a lot of my business," he assured her, still blocking the exit of the tunnel. "I see a very strong woman. One with enough fire to warm the coldest nights or to fight the bloodiest battle. Yet you're here, sedated, bored out of your mind."
His voice was gentle, comforting, and yet at the same time the dark, rich baritone had her blood pressure rising to a heated pitch of arousal. She would have been amused if it didn't scare her silly. She could love this man, even knowing he couldn't stay.
"Bored?" She arched her brow mockingly. "Now, Braden, how could you consider this little comer of the desert boring? Surely you aren't ready to head back to battle so soon?"
He was hitting too close to the mark, bringing to the surface too many things that had been tormenting her with each passing year.
''I found a battle here," he responded softly. Crowding her closer to the stone wall at the side of the tunnel. "Now I just have to figure out why there's a battle to begin with. Why would a beautiful, seemingly normal young woman suddenly be targeted for death by a Council that shouldn't give a fuck about her one way or the other. What did you do, Megan?
What have you seen'!"
She inhaled roughly, staring back at him with a remnant of fear as he asked that question. What had she done? What had she seen? Why had she run back to the safety of her home, her family, and hid within the desert she so loved, when she really wanted nothing more than to live the life she knew she had been destined to live?
Because she was scared. She had learned in the crowded setting of the Law Enforcement Academy that
—working within a team, dealing with the various emotions, dark, often agonizing emotions, fractured her attention to the point where concentration was impossible.