Lawe's Justice

*CHAPTER 13*

Ashley Truing’s perpetually tanned flesh looked so pale, washed out and dull that Diane could actually detect the dark roots that were beginning at her scalp.

Normally, the professional color she had applied to her hair looked so natural, so well colored and streaked that it was impossible to tell it was artificial.

It was also not natural to see her this quiet, almost lifeless, as though the exuberance and vivacious life force that was so much a part of her had drained out with the blood she had lost from the laser-shot wound.

All but silent, almost always deadly when set to its highest setting, laser hand weapons could emulate the old-fashioned bullet-loaded weapons but with much more deadly results.

Thankfully, Ashley had had a med tech well versed in immediate care of such wounds. It had kept her alive long enough for the Breed doctors to get to her. Just as her Breed genetics and amazing inner strength had helped her live through a wound a mere human wouldn’t have had a chance of surviving.

Diane watched through the window of the ICU room as Lawe stood at Ashley’s bedside listening to Dr. Armani and Dr. Sobolov fill him in on her condition.

The Pride alpha and his prima, Callan and Merinus Lyons, had already been there and were currently in their suite awaiting Lawe and Diane at the Navajo Suites along with the Wolf Breed alpha and lupina, Wolfe and Hope Gunnar, and the Coyote Breed alpha and his coya, Del-Rey and Anya Delgado.

The nurses had reported that the Coyote alpha had to force the coya from the hospital. Ashley was one of her dearest friends, and she was inconsolable with worry.

“They lost her twice during surgery.”

Diane swung around to face Rule, the current commander in charge of the teams that had been sent to Window Rock ahead of them.

“Will she be okay?” Diane turned back to the glass looking into the dimly lit room as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and watched Lawe.

His expression was pulled into lines of worry as he stared down at Ashley. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his eyes burning with fury.

Ashley looked like a little doll tucked into the hospital bed. A pale, still, lifeless little doll.

“The doctors say every hour she’s breathing is a reason for hope,” he said with a sigh. “It was a bad hit. Too close to the heart, and she’s small.”

The reflection of his casual shrug was at odds with the heavy sadness in his voice and in his expression. It was rare that she saw Rule showing any tender emotions. He was good at anger, sarcasm and mockery, but it wasn’t often he allowed himself to feel anything more.

“He’s going to get worse.” The quietly spoken words had her tensing as her gaze touched on Lawe again.

“What do you mean?” Was he aware of the struggle she and Lawe were involved in?

“Lawe saw you almost broken when he rescued you in Syria,” he said softly. “I saw his face when I and the team met him at the hospital you were flown to. He knew you were his mate. He saw you at your weakest. You’re not going to take that image out of his head.”

She glanced at his reflection once again, her gaze meeting his in the glass as she recognized the emotion that swirled in the darker topaz of his eyes.

“You don’t like me much, do you, Rule?” Her lips twisted at the thought.

“Actually,” he said, exhaling roughly, “the problem is, I do like you, Diane. I liked you even before I knew you were his mate.” He nodded toward his brother. “What I don’t like is the fact that you’re not willing to keep him as safe as he’s willing to keep you.”

“And that’s how you see it,” she murmured.

He nodded firmly. “That’s how I see it.”

How little his brother knew him, but hell, how little he knew himself actually. Lawe may have pulled back from active status, meaning he was no longer taking the worst of the worst missions, but he was still there, working side by side with the bogeyman of the Breeds, Jonas Wyatt.

Her lips quirked at the thought, a mocking acknowledgment of her own thoughts. Lawe wasn’t being shot at, but he was still in danger.

“He’s not exactly back home on the farm planting vegetables, is he, Rule.” A bitter reminder that Lawe hadn’t retreated to Sanctuary to build cabins, work base security, public relations or the political positions that were kept open for those Breed mates pulling back from active status. “He’s still directing the missions and dining on adrenaline. But you expect me to tie on an apron and bake bread, don’t you? That’s what you and Lawe both expect from me.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips and she knew it. At the moment, she excelled at it.

His head tilted in acknowledgment. “It would make life easier on the rest of us.” His gaze flicked to hers in the glass. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would be edible.”

Diane almost smiled at the comment, though her heart clenched in pain at the reminder that Lawe wouldn’t give a damn as long as she was out of danger.

Before she could pull the emotion back and take control of it Lawe’s head whipped around in the middle of his conversation with the doctors, his gaze narrowing on her, then on his brother.

Rule clucked his tongue behind her. “See what I mean? There he goes, getting all protective. The second he senses your hurt feelings, he’s ready to battle.”

From the corner of her eye she watched Rule’s image in the glass as he gave his brother a mocking little finger wave. She had to roll her eyes. Brothers were brothers whether they were Breed or human. Alien brothers were probably the same she thought ruefully.

Evidently, the taunt reassured Lawe because he turned back to Armani and Sobolov, though he did shoot his brother a warning glance as he did so.

She was about to hate men. She could see it coming. They were irritating, overconfident, arrogant and just plain assholes. At least the good ones were. She sighed in resignation at the thought.

She’d actually given due consideration to the subject of giving up the day job as Lawe lay napping the previous night. God knew she didn’t want to see him distracted at the wrong time, and she didn’t want to see him hurt or dead because she couldn’t take a backseat and return to Sanctuary with him. It was in the middle of the night that she realized there wasn’t a chance in hell he would stay there with her. Not for long anyway.

Like Jonas, he would go back and forth. But Rachel was Jonas’s personal assistant, and when possible, she traveled with him. She shared the job with him; they often talked shop together and he valued her opinion.

She simply couldn’t see Lawe doing the same. He wanted too desperately to forget that she was a soldier. That she was nothing but his mate.

Dr. Sobolov adjusted Ashley’s blanket, smoothed a wisp of hair back from her cheek and stared down at the silent form for long moments.

“Her attacker was killed?” Diane asked.

Rule nodded sharply. “Gideon killed him. Holden Mayhew was attempting to kidnap Malachi Morgan’s new mate. She and Ashley are friends and Ashley was caught in the middle.”

Diane knew Malachi. The former Enforcer, who had been pulled into public relations for his exceptional ability to read expressions and detect conspirators, was quiet and intense and, for a Coyote, quite likeable.

“And his mate?”

“Bruised, beaten, though not severely. There were two Council Coyotes waiting at the stairwell exit outside for them. He was selling them a Breed mate. We found the two Council Coyotes this morning, skinned out and gutted in the desert. Gideon can be a savage bastard, it seems.”

Diane suppressed a shudder at the thought of what those Coyotes had suffered, but words her uncle used to mutter drifted through her mind: “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

“Lawe said Malachi reported knowing him?” Surprising enough.

Rule nodded. “They met during one of Gideon’s escapes, his first one. Gideon worked with a small group Malachi was leading until they reached Amsterdam where Gideon decided to go his own way.”

“And there he was betrayed by a prostitute,” Diane murmured.

“Yes, he was.” Rule sighed. “Malachi’s mate is Chief Ray Martinez’s niece, though. The attack convinced them to give us permission to begin the investigation to search for him.”

Diane stilled for a long second before turning to Rule, uncaring that Lawe or anyone else for that matter would detect her displeasure.

“That’s not why we’re here,” she reminded.

“We are not going to get permission to investigate the missing research projects, and we’re not going to inform them that’s why we’re here,” he told her, his tone steely now as he lowered his voice. “I can give you the reasons why later, in private, when I update Lawe. Suffice to say, our story is that we’re searching for Gideon for fear that the feral fever he’s slipped into could cause an unwarranted death. That’s all they need to know. The Navajo don’t want bodies to begin piling up in Window Rock, especially after Isabelle Martinez’s attack by a man her father once trusted.”

She swung back around and glared at Lawe now. He’d turned, his gaze meeting hers, his stare brooding as it flicked between her and Rule.

“You shouldn’t have come here to begin with.” Gritting the words between clenched teeth she shoved her hands in the pocket of her jeans to keep from trying to strangle him. “You caused an incident where none was needed.”

“Then Malachi wouldn’t have found his mate,” Rule pointed out, as though that somehow validated the decision.

“You and your brother just piss me off.” Diane turned back to him, the irritation churning into anger. “Your arrogance and complete lack of consideration for others never fails to amaze me, Rule.”

The corners of his eyes shifted and his brow arched. “What did we do this time?”

“You found a way to argue a decision you knew was wrong to begin with. Gideon knows you’re here, and now he knows it’s not just him you’re chasing but the Brandenmore Research projects he’s after as well. You’ve just forewarned him.”

“The Genetics Council believes we’re searching for him.” His voice grated.

“He’s not stupid,” she retorted. “By allowing him to believe you even know where he’s at before letting me arrive first was all he needed. You’re not dealing with the Council or their Coyotes. You’re dealing with a Breed whose intelligence rates at the genius level and whose ability to coordinate and carry out what others considered suicide missions when he was only a teenager should have been your warning. He knows, and now he’ll stop at nothing to ensure you don’t get anywhere close to them. I just pray to God he doesn’t consider killing them a viable option to losing them to you.”

Better yet, she was to the point that if it weren’t for her own niece, she would hinder their search in any way possible. Fortunately for them, Amber needed the girls. The answers to what the serum had done to them as they matured, especially Honor Roberts, was vitally important.

For some reason, the contact she had found in Argentina had believed it was Honor who may hold the answers to what Amber would be facing as she grew older.

The changes in her niece were astounding. She had been walking for the past few weeks, despite the fact that she was barely eight months old. She was purring when she found something that pleased her, if she believed she was alone. And her sister swore her daughter understood far more than she should for her age. The few moments Diane had spent with Amber before leaving D.C. had assured her Amber did know far more than she should.

Jonas was convinced of it, Rachel had told her during an earlier discussion. She often caught Jonas talking to the toddler, giving her directions, then watching her carry them out when she thought her “da” had left the room.

Rachel was terrified that the advanced intelligence was only the first sign that her daughter would follow the same path as the monster who had injected her. That her brain would deteriorate, just as Phillip Brandenmore’s had after he had injected himself.

“Diane.”

Lawe caught her arm as she paced up the hall. Her only thought was to get away from him and his supreme confidence that he had done the right thing. Any moron would know this couldn’t possibly be the right thing. It would have been far better to allow her to handle it alone. Gideon wouldn’t have been nearly so worried about her, because he believed she would be weak without her men. Everyone she met believed that, believed she was no more than a figurehead to the group of mercenaries. “We’re going to destroy lives here,” she whispered without turning around, the certainty that they couldn’t do anything less if they continued was searing her conscience. “We know he’s here to find them as well. That’s the only reason he would have given me the location he suspected they were in. For whatever reason he believes I’ll have a better chance of identifying, locating or convincing them to reveal themselves. But what does he intend to do once that’s accomplished? Why go to these extremes?”

Her only thought was for her niece. She and her sister had gone through years of torturous testing to cure them of their diseases, and according to the scientists in Argentina, they had nearly died several times after being given the serum that was eventually concocted.

According to one of her contacts, it was possible Amber would never survive past her second year without the help of the two girls that had been in the labs, especially Honor. Regret had filled his gaze when he told her that Honor Roberts was her only chance, because Fawn Corrigan had died with the Bengal Breed they’d been experimenting on, known as Judd.

Just as he had warned her to be careful of the remaining Breed that had been in the labs. The one they had possibly driven past the point of sanity.

Gideon’s fury was becoming the stuff of legends already. The suspected feral fever that drove him had made him one of the most vicious assassins to come out of the creations science had dreamed up.

She had wondered why he was helping her. She had let herself believe it was out of concern for the three who had been imprisoned with him, but a part of her had known better. She hadn’t believed the man known as the Executioner—but also known for never harming an innocent—would strike out against the victims he’d shared the Brandenmore labs with. She still couldn’t believe it.

“He has no reason to kill them.” Gripping her upper arm lightly he began steering her to the elevators as Rule followed. “And we were petitioning the Navajo Council for this investigation. We can’t operate on their lands without apprising them of it. It will break the agreement we have with them and we’ll lose far more than we’ll gain. Even doing it your way would be seen by them as dishonest and cause sanctions to be slapped on us immediately. Ray Martinez does not tolerate Jonas’s games and he doesn’t care who it effects once he learns he’s being manipulated. There would be no way to convince him that Jonas wasn’t behind this.”

“There’s more going on here than Gideon is allowing us to see,” she bit out as the doors opened and he led her into the empty cubicle, followed by Rule. “He knows Malachi. He knows it was Malachi’s mate he saved from being taken by Council Coyotes. That means he’s watching. And he’s listening. I knew he wasn’t giving me the information I needed out of the kindness of his heart, but I can’t find any other reason for the aid he’s given us.”

“What was his relationship with the others?” Lawe asked.

Diane pushed her fingers restlessly through her hair as she exhaled helplessly. “Apparently good. The four found ways to help each other, often. There were several lab techs that attempted to help them whenever they could as well. When the order for termination went out, Honor Roberts had already been returned to her family. No one knows what happened exactly. The termination facility was destroyed but there was evidence more than one body had been placed in the cremation chamber that night. There wasn’t a guard or assistant left alive to verify it, though their computer files show the three were logged in and Judd and Fawn were terminated. Brandenmore decided Gideon must have found a way to escape and destroyed the facility. And Gideon was excellent with computers. He could have found a way—easily—to have falsified the entries.”

But why hadn’t she considered his motives sooner? She should have. God, she should have. She was just certain she could work around them. That she could find a way to take Fawn, and hopefully Honor, out of Window Rock without Gideon realizing what she had done until it was too late.

She knew why she hadn’t considered them before.

Every thought had been consumed with her niece, with saving the child whose innocence and sweet smiles made her remember what she was fighting for.

Lawe was silent. But she could almost hear what he could have said.

He had warned her. He had warned her she couldn’t possibly know what was in Gideon’s mind. And she didn’t. Was he there to harm or to help? Did he have a grudge or an atonement driving him? Was she risking the very people who may well be Amber’s last hope?

She had expected an argument, a confident denial and assurance that Lawe knew what he was doing, yada, yada, yada. She could have almost spit the argument out for him, she’d heard it so many times from other Breeds.

Instead, he remained quiet as the elevator made its way to the main floor.

She didn’t risk glancing at his face, she didn’t dare. She knew she wouldn’t be able to bear to see that arrogance, that confidence that he was always right in his expression.

She should have thought of this sooner. The moment she realized Lawe had been following her, she should have known what he would do. She should have known he would have warned Gideon they were searching for him. Knowing that, Gideon would be much harder to anticipate, and much harder to slip away from.

“The plans were already in place,” he said quietly. “Before you ever told me what you knew or who had told you. I figured it out, Diane. That’s my job. It’s what I do. It’s what I was trained for. To take the smallest of details concerning an operation and put them together, like pieces of a puzzle. Once you ran from me, and I realized the direction you were going, it came together.”

Yes, that was what he was trained for. And yes, he would have put it together. But she should have realized he would notify the Navajo Nation of who the Bureau was searching for.

And just to begin with, she should have realized she couldn’t run from him, she couldn’t hide from him.

He’d sat back in the past months and had left her alone. She had believed he would do so again. She had never truly believed he would follow her to Arizona when he hadn’t followed her to any other mission since he’d rescued her.

She’d been prepared to avoid his goon squad, but not him. Because there was no avoiding Lawe.

Now, Gideon knew they weren’t just after the others who had shared the hell of those experiments with him. He knew they were also after him, and that would make him a threat to them all. The sense of hopelessness that filled her was almost overwhelming.

What had she done?

Lawe ensured that he and Rule placed themselves in position to protect Diane as they exited the elevator and then the front of the hospital.

The SUV was waiting at the door as he ordered. Rule opened the back door, his gaze flint hard as he scanned the area while Diane pulled herself inside and Lawe followed.

He could feel that sense of hopelessness radiating from her and he knew he was the cause of it. He had no idea how to fix it. The pain she always kept buried so deep inside radiated outward with it, assuring him that whatever she was thinking had sliced deep inside her soul.

Feeling that hopelessness coming from her had his fingers clenching into fists of need unlike anything he’d known before her. His own helplessness rose like a demon inside him as he realized there was no way to stem the pain she was feeling. There was no way to ease it.

“Commander Justice, Director Wyatt and Pride Leader Lyons and his prima request that you meet with them when you arrive. A meal is being prepared as are reports for your arrival.”

“Please inform them that as soon as we’ve settled into our room we’ll contact them,” he replied as he kept watch on Diane from the corner of his eye.

Neither her expression nor her emotions changed. She didn’t react in any way that he would have imagined she would. She simply stared out the window, a light frown on her face as she watched the small city from the confines of the vehicle.

What was she thinking? Sometimes it was impossible to decipher her thoughts. Other people Lawe found easy to read, even Breeds. Diane, though, he’d never been able to accurately predict and that had the power to irritate the hell out of him.

She wasn’t angry, and she should be, he admitted. Had she admitted to him that she had worked him so easily, or that she had attempted to interfere in one of his missions then he would have been furious. With himself as well as her.

It hadn’t been easy to do, but he had given her just enough rope to hang herself, Gideon and the three individuals they were searching for.

Did she realize they were even working toward the same end? The survival of a child too small and too vulnerable to understand the changes going on inside her or to explain to anyone what those changes were?

He couldn’t allow his feelings or his pain for her to become involved in his decisions. If he allowed himself to sympathize or to understand how the three from the Brandenmore Labs would feel about being dragged into this war, then it could alter his ability to do the job Jonas had entrusted to him. And it could affect the survival of the Breeds as a whole. There were too many changes evolving in mating heat, too many children who were displaying unexpected anomalies and changes as they matured, to allow emotion to sway what had to be done.

His loyalty was to his mate, to his Pride leader and to the Breeds. In that order. He couldn’t allow anything or anyone to change that.

God knew he wished there had been no victims to the Council’s madness or to Phillip Brandenmore’s insanity. But there had been. Thousands of them. Every child kidnapped as genetic material, every woman taken as a vessel to grow the creations they envisioned and every Breed created had been a victim.

For more than a century research had evolved. Jonas actually believed the research had been going on for over a hundred and fifty years. One hundred and fifty years of the horror that had evolved to the lives they now lived.

He couldn’t allow himself to turn his back on it, or on those depending upon the decisions made now to preserve the future.

“Josiah, is the director’s mate with him?” Diane directed the question to the Enforcer driving.

“Yes, Ms. Broen. Mrs. Wyatt is traveling with the director, as is your niece, Amber. Your sister hopes you’ll attend the coming meeting this evening as well.”

Lawe watched as she lifted her hand and rubbed at her forehead wearily.

The scent of her hopelessness had slowly eased away, but it hadn’t been replaced by other emotions as it would with anyone else. There was only the scent of the woman, a fresh, summery scent that had altered only the slightest with his own and the mating hormone. The scent of the mating heat was there, but that altered mated scent hadn’t evolved as it should have.

He controlled his frown, his confusion. Each couple developed a unique scent, a combination of both of them that they carried after mating heat began. Its habit was to completely change each individual scent to ensure that the mates were one scent, just as they were one complete unit. Yet Diane’s scent was still uniquely her own. It was tinged with his scent, similar to that of an impending storm, but nothing more, and he found the primal genetics reacting to that with a wary lifting of the hairs at the back of his neck.

A warning of danger or an instinctive response to a situation that the animal sensed wasn’t quite right, Lawe acknowledged. He barely caught the growl that would have rumbled in his throat. He barely held back the sudden, raging need to have her or the scent of that need from filling the interior of the SUV.

He wanted her. Naked, willing. He wanted her arching to him, the heat of her pussy enveloping the engorged shaft presently tormenting him, and he wanted her to accept him.

To accept that he couldn’t face the danger she was so determined to challenge.

Lust was rising hard and fast inside him, and Lawe silently admitted the meeting with Jonas and Callan Lyons would have to be delayed for it. Locking his mate to him was a priority he couldn’t ignore much longer. The knowledge that she was somehow, emotionally and forcibly, refusing the mating had his senses in an uproar. Ensuring she carried his scent, if only for the few hours it lingered on her skin after he possessed her, was raking at his balls with merciless talons. The hunger for her was a fever in his blood, one that was rising beneath his flesh as each second without her touch went by.

The glands beneath his tongue began swelling, the hormone filling it and sinking into his senses with heated demand. There would come a point when denying it wouldn’t be possible. When he would have to have her, immediately, without the control needed to ensure he touched her, held and loved her as he ached to do.

It seemed that every time they came together it was with a flaming hunger that stole his ability to drive her to the edge of sensual madness with just his touch. The mating hormone fueled a different kind of hunger, ensnared them with the addictive, sexually charged fever they both found impossible to delay.

As though sensing the hunger tearing through him, Diane’s head jerked to the side to stare at him rather than the passing scenery.

Lawe had to clench his fists; his entire body tensing with the need to fuck her as the scent of her emotions finally reached him. Or rather, the scent of her hunger.

It slammed into him, as though the act of glancing into his eyes, seeing his need burning there for her, had opened the floodgates to her own.

And she ached. She needed.

She wanted him as he wanted her, fast and hard, with a pleasure so incredible it would burn them to the core and meld them to each other, heart and soul.

Nothing mattered to Lawe but holding her, feeling her wrapped tightly around him, crying out his name, her sharp little fingernails piercing the flesh of his back and shoulders.

That was what mattered.

Just one more time. Before he met with Callan and Jonas, he needed her, just one more time before reality intruded any further and attempted to steal her heart from him.

If he even had it at all.

The question was: Could he survive without the heart of the woman he longed for? Or would he experience the slow, agonizing death of his own soul because of her rejection of him?

Or because of his refusal to accept her?