He stared back at her as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes slowly narrowing as a hint of predatory calculation entered them.
"Don't dare me, sweetheart," he warned her, his voice soft.
"Dare you?'She shook her head as she retained the tight, sarcastic smile she had adopted. "I'm not daring you, sweetheart. I'm telling you. I didn't need you before you began this funky hormone stuff, and I sure don't need you now."
"May I point out that the Mating Heat is harder on females than males."
Jonas spoke up at that point, his voice curiously bland. "You may want to rethink that."
"Did I ask for your opinion?'She turned and stomped toward the door. "If the two of you will excuse me now, I'll go see if I can repair some of the damage your inept humor has caused in this office." She gripped the doorknob, turning back to scowl at Jonas. "One of these days, someone is going to play this game better than you do, Mr. Wyatt. And when it happens, I want a ringside seat."
His lips tightened further as he glanced at Braden. "Your mate has a mean mouth." He growled. "It could get her into trouble."
"I believe it already has,'' she retorted in turn before jerking the door open and stalking into the hall. The hard reverberation of the slam of the door was an all-too-brief, satisfying sound as wood cracked against wood. And a muttered Breed curse was heard from the other side. Let them curse. As far as she was concerned, she'd had enough.
Braden stared at the door, his head tilted, eyes narrowed. She was pissed and hurt, and he couldn't blame her a bit. His thoughts and emotions had been too chaotic to allow her past his shields after that first instant rejection. He couldn't risk it; not yet.
"The hormonal surges inside her will only make her worse." Jonas sighed, his tone more relaxed now.
Braden snorted. "Thanks for the warning. Just what I wanted, my woman ready to skin me alive. Thanks, Jonas."
"I'm really hoping this Mating shit doesn't become a habit," Jonas said.
"This makes two damned good Enforcers I've lost to it. Tarek Jordan didn't resign due to injuries as his file states. The son of a bitch mated his neighbor. Can you believe that? Send a man on a mission and the next thing you know, he's Mating the little sexpot next door. Now this." He shook his head with an edge of irritation.
"Worry more about why I shouldn't kick your ass for pissing her off," Braden growled, pushing his fingers through his hair as he breathed out roughly. "Damn, you could have at least tried a little tact here."
Braden could only shake his head at that point. The Director of Breed Affairs was known for his manipulations and carefully calculated games. He wasn't known for his mercy or his compassion.
"Fine. You made sure my life was a little harder for the next few days. Surely that wasn't the only reason you came out here today?'He shrugged his shoulders restlessly, trying to forget the implication that sex could be coming. He was dying to touch Megan, to claim her, to mark her. Mating Heat be damned. She was his woman; he had just hoped to ease her into that fact.
"Not hardly." Jonas moved to the desk, sitting on the edge of it casually as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"The printout definitely came from here; our little Coyote buddy assured us of that. He's alive, by the way."
Braden arched his brow. He hadn't expected that.
"It's not easy but that boy talks when it matters. I'll let him live until he's not talking anymore."
"Do you know who printed the schedule?'Braden was determined that the bastard who had betrayed Megan would pay.
"I have it narrowed down. Unfortunately, Sheriff Jacobs was on the short list. The other two were Lenny Blanchard and Deputy Jose Jensen. I'm having a tail put on them; we'll have answers soon."
"Blanchard doesn't seem the sort." Braden shook his head slowly, thinking of the friendly desk sergeant.
"Those are usually the ones that make me the most nervous,'' Jonas growled. "Watch your ass. I can't spare a team out here yet, Braden, or I'd have one covering you, you know that. But I'm working on something, so hopefully, I'll have a team soon. In the meantime, I'll get an investigation started on the two deputies and see what I can find out."
Braden nodded at that.
"And now for the biggie." Jonas smiled with too much enjoyment. "You and the missus have tests to undergo. Think we can talk her into cooperating?"
Braden dropped his head. Cooperation? Megan? Now?
"One of these days, one of your Enforcers will end up killing you, Jonas." He snarled as he lifted his head and dropped his arms. "And I'll be damned if I'm not there to see it."
Jonas chuckled at the sentiment. "Hold that thought, buddy." He smiled with all appearances of looking forward to it. "It's been a while since I've had a good fight; I think I'd enjoy the challenge."
And there lay the problem. Jonas was rarely challenged.
He played where he could, never in a manner that endangered his Enforcers, but in ways that made them willing to kill him. At the moment, Braden understood the sentiment and he was certain Megan did as well.
She was hurting. He had felt it when she stormed out of the office, and as much as that worried him, it also sent a surge of satisfaction thrumming through his senses. The key to Megan was in touching her emotions, her heart.
She was fiercely independent, determined to make a difference, even if it was only in her own little comer of the world. She was a fighter, one of the finest alpha females he had ever laid his eyes on. With a bit more training, and the right shields, she would make a hell of an Enforcer. He turned his gaze to Jonas, wondering how his commander would take having a non-Breed on the payroll.
Jonas scowled back at him. "What?"
"She would make a hell of an Enforcer." He kept his voice low; God help him if Megan heard him plotting her life out. "You don't have to lose an Enforcer, Jonas, you can gain one instead."
Jonas's eyes narrowed. "She's not a Breed."
"She's an Empath. And her gun collection is better than mine." He snorted at the description. Unfortunately, he knew there was a risk. Her weapons collection rocked. "But even more than that, even if she weren't my mate, she's still my woman. I won't leave her behind." And he couldn't give up the fight. Bringing down the remnants of the Council and the Pure-Blood societies was too important.
"You're not fighting the Mating." Jonas settled himself more comfortably on the desk's edge as Braden watched him carefully. "She didn't seem pleased."
Braden sighed wearily. "I don't like having decisions taken away from me, Jonas, even by nature. I knew she was mine, but I hadn't decided how to convince her yet. This complicated things. She felt the rejection of the idea of the Mating and now she's pissed. But she'll get over it." She wouldn't have a choice.
Braden stood still as Jonas continued to stare back at him. He had that habit, as though he could see into a man's soul and gauge his worth. For most it was disconcerting; for those who worked with him and fought beside him on a daily basis it was a comfort.
"Okay." He nodded sharply. "Build her defenses and her shields. And training her is your responsibility. I'll leave it to you."
Now, he just had to convince Megan.
As a silence descended between them, the door snapped open and Lance Jacobs stalked back into his office.
"Get the hell out of here," Lance snapped when he spied Jonas sitting on
his desk. He then turned to Braden. "Megan is in her office, but if you're not careful you'll be hoofing it back to the house tonight." There was no compassion in his voice whatsoever.
"I know where your mate gets her streak of mean from now," Jonas grunted to Braden as he slowly straightened from the desk. "It's hereditary."
"You just keep believing that," Lance muttered as he moved behind his desk and took his seat. Slouching back in the chair, he watched both men with calculated interest. "She's going to fight you every breath," he informed them after several moments passed. "And you can put a ban on whatever the hell you want to, Jonas, that's my damned cousin your messing with. She's close enough to be a sister. Don't think because she lives in that desert alone that her family won't back her. Every damned one of us."
"Right down to the Special Forces uncles? Jonas arched his brow as Braden smothered a sigh.
"Especially those." Lance's smile was tight, merciless. "Remember that. And while you're at it, get your asses out of my department; I'm damned sick of dealing with Breeds."
That seemed to be the general consensus of anyone dealing with Jonas.
Braden stayed silent, watchful, measuring the sheriff as he scowled back at Jonas. The man had an unusual air about him, at once old and young.
He had seen pain, he had known death, and he had come back, wary, bitter. Braden knew his past, knew his file down to the last detail, but sometimes one could read much more in eyes that stared back from a weary expression.
"I'll head back to Sanctuary." Jonas nodded abruptly, drawing Braden's attention from the sheriff. "Let me know when you're ready for me to return with Elyiana."
The tests. The very same ones he suspected Megan would fight like a rabid wild cat.
"I should know something soon." Braden nodded before heading to the door.
As he stepped into the hall, he clearly heard Jonas's last warning comment to the sheriff.
"We'll be talking again soon, Jacobs. Very soon."
And Braden wondered just what the hell the Director of Breed Affairs had up his sleeve now.
Chapter Ten
Megan stalked into the house and up the stairs more than an hour later. She heard the back door open behind her.
She had known Braden would be coming in soon, knew she had to face him eventually. But not yet. She couldn't force herself to stay, to face the rejection she felt in Lance's office. To see in his eyes the anger that
surged through him at the knowledge that they were bound together in ways she could have never imagined.
She had left the office without him, sneaking from the building and rushing to her Raider. She hadn't expected to be greeted by the sleek black heli-jet Jonas had flown in on, or to see Braden as he lounged against the side of the house waiting on her.
Mating Heat. Adrenaline rushed through her at the thought, sending her heart racing and, unfortunately, her womb clenching. Whatever it was, it had bound her to him. She had felt it from that first moment they met, the aura that surrounded her, calmed her. The arousal that tormented her. The kiss that left her weak, hungry for his taste. Cinnamon and brown sugar.
She could almost taste it on her lips, her tongue. Craved it, had been craving it since he had kissed her the night before.
The heat that filled her sex was driving her crazy. She clenched her thighs against it, determined to hold back that particular need. She had never just rolled willy-nilly into bed with any man and she would be damned if she was going to start with Braden.
At least, not right at this moment.
She slammed her bedroom door closed before stalking to the wide window at the end of her bed. She swiped at the tears that dampened her cheeks. The drive from the sheriff's office had left her alone just long enough for her to lose control of her emotions. She knew she needed to be stronger than this. But it hurt. For the first time since her talents had shown themselves she had been able to be close to a man. She could feel his arms around her and had known only his heat and hardness, not his nightmares or his fears. She had begun to hope that it meant something.
How stupid. A cynical, weary breath accompanied the thought. She should have known better. Life didn't work like that. And now she was bound to a man who had rejected the bond that she had felt growing between them. It had a name. Mating Heat. It wasn't natural, or so Jonas claimed; but her heart had other ideas. And the blow to her emotions that Braden's rejection had caused had shredded her control.