Lion's Heat

CHAPTER 17

Rachel awoke in Jonas's arms, her head cushioned on his chest as his fingers stroked along her spine. Fingers that lacked the lethal, strong claws they had displayed the night before.

She'd seen the dangerously tipped extensions before, but had never had the nerve to actually explore the long, broad fingers to find out if they worked as a cat's would. She had to admit though, the feel of them stroking down her thighs had sent arrows of sensual excitement shooting straight to the core of her sex.

Her gaze dropped to the strong, broad hand that lay across her bare stomach. Reaching down, she lifted his index finger, stroked it for a second, marveling at the strength of it. Did she dare, she wondered? She knew she didn't dare look at him as she did it. Biting her lip, she pressed firmly just beneath the broad, well-manicured nail and watched as the lethally strong claw emerged.

His entire hand flexed then, and slowly, each finger sported the well-manicured, lethally sharp tipped claws she had felt across her thighs the night before. Her lips quirked. Only Jonas would have his claws manicured and honed to dangerous points. When it came to the idea of Breeds being civilized, Jonas gave an Oscar-worthy performance.

He was silent as she ran her finger over the sharp tip, his silver eyes watching her with quiet intensity as she lifted her gaze back to him.

She wished she could decipher the emotions that roiled in his eyes. She wished she could understand why the sight of them bit at her heart with aching sadness.

"Can all Breeds do that?" she asked as she flicked the tip of a claw with her finger.

His head shook. "Only a primal."

"A primal? I haven't heard that designation before." She thought she had heard all of them.

The color in his eyes flickered momentarily. "It's a sub-designation and kept carefully quiet. Many Breeds aren't even aware we exist. We are truly the monsters of the species. Primals are bred to be less merciful and compassionate. Our animals are closer to the skin, you could say, and the human instinct for cruelty and egomania was bred to be uppermost in our human genetics."

"The perfect soldier," she murmured, remembering the news releases that had accompanied the Breed rescues.

"No, Breeds are the perfect soldiers," he amended. "Primals are the perfect killers. We were created to work best alone, to never be able to be a lover or a friend, and to kill that person on command, or as needed. We were created to have no heart, no mercy. And we were created to breed hybrids that were animals walking on two legs."

Something more flickered in his gaze then: apprehension, perhaps? Did he expect her to feel fear at this point? As far as she was concerned, it was a little too late for that. She was in his bed now, she was truly his mate. Fear at this late date would have been drama. And Rachel seriously didn't believe in drama.

"What happened with the breeding part?" Her heart was breaking at the knowledge that they were created to never love, to never laugh. What a weight it must be to know they had been created to destroy, to kill, and that the world knew why they had been created. So many hated and feared them for their very existence. They had no idea how much the Breeds regretted that reason as well.

A short, bitter laugh escaped his lips. "They could never get that part to work so well. For the most part, the scientists were unaware of the need for mating. But the groundwork was laid for the creatures they eventually wanted to produce, though."

The creatures, not the children. Rachel had to force back her tears at the words he used. Jonas wasn't much on sympathy. He preferred reality and honesty above all things. She'd heard him say once or twice that sympathy was an empty emotion for those who had no desire to expend the effort to actually fight against an injustice.

"It doesn't matter if it's human or animal," she said softly as she stared back at him. "I don't believe anyone is born or created to kill. It's taught to them. You can use all the genetics you want, but it comes down to what you teach your children. Just as it comes down to what that child wants to be once you've taught it all you know. The knowledge of right and wrong is inherent, Jonas. The Breeds have proven that."

She saw the indecision in his gaze then, or perhaps disbelief.

Lying in his arms, his body warm, hard, tense against her, she finally broached the subject that had bothered her the previous night.

Jonas and the Leo had such a conflicted relationship as it was, but last night, they had both been more on edge than normal.

"What is the issue with Leo? He's been picking at you for as long as I've worked for you, but he was worse last night."

"He's been picking far longer than you've been with me," he grunted.

"Why?"

"Who knows why the Leo does what he does, or what he hopes to achieve from it." There was genuine confusion in his expression. "He keeps pushing for something that he has no desire to explain, and I refuse to ask for that explanation. I'm simply the whelp I'm certain he wishes they hadn't created."

His tone was matter-of-fact, accepting, but Rachel saw the hint of betrayal in his eyes. Leo's attitude pricked at him, and who could blame him? The one dream the Breeds had was that of family. Leo was his father, yet he acted as though he were ashamed, or regretful, of Jonas's existence. His eyes told another story, though, Rachel thought. Like Jonas, the Leo's eyes roiled with emotions.

"You're stubborn," she stated.

"And he's a manipulative bastard," he growled.

"Like father, like son, perhaps?" she questioned him with a smile as she stretched lazily, feeling the tenderness that assailed her body, the proof that she had been well loved the night before.

"My genetics are far different from his," he retorted. "His provided a base, if you will. The scientists then added what they thought would create the animal they wanted. Leo's no primal, but he should have been created as one."

She almost laughed. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that laughter wouldn't go over so well right now.

"I hate to tell you this, Jonas, but you're not that far from your father in genetics," she informed him. "The two of you are more alike than he and Callan are. You even have several of your mother's physical traits, such as the shape of your eyes."

His expression darkened. "Elizabeth isn't my mother. My dam was the Scientist LaRue, who headed the French labs where I was created. I share no genetics with Elizabeth Vanderale."

He was lying to her. Rachel sat up, turned and stared down at him. There was no mistaking the fact that Elizabeth Vanderale was his mother. Many of Jonas's actions mirrored hers, such as his habit of rubbing his neck when he was agitated, or the way he narrowed his eyes. She had seen the woman display those gestures many times over the past months.

Lies and deceit were things Rachel absolutely refused to tolerate. There was no way in hell she would stand back and allow Jonas to practice his less desirable traits against her as he often did in the political circles he moved within.

"Look, I don't know what you think this mating is going to be, Jonas Wyatt, but it will include not lying to me. And don't think I haven't learned by now exactly how to tell when you're lying. Let me guess: Elizabeth Vanderale isn't supposed to be your mother, so you've simply never informed her that she is?"

His jaw tightened. Whatever emotion he was trying to hide from her, whatever knowledge he wanted to keep hidden, was obviously something he had fought to keep to himself.

"How do you know I'm lying to you?" He gazed back at her with an almost innocent charm. It was so obviously feigned that she nearly laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "For some reason my female intuition kicks in. When you lie, it feels like the edges of a panic attack."

If there was one person she thought would understand that, she knew it would be Jonas.

He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling as though that knowledge was an irritant. "Just what I need, a mate who knows how to listen to her instincts."

Rachel gave a light laugh before she moved from the bed, drawing the sheet with her and wrapping it around her.

"The fire is going out. It will be getting chilly soon," she told him as she glanced to the window, where dawn was just breaking over the horizon. "And Amber will be up at any time. Would you listen for her while I shower?"

Jonas watched as she moved from the bedroom into the bathroom, a frown brewing on his brow as he finally figured out what it was that seemed off.

Rachel carried his scent now. He could detect the hormone fusing to her system from the bite he'd given her the night before. He could detect a natural, subtle allure to her. But, she wasn't burning for sex as other mates did. She wasn't close to begging, and it had been six hours at the very least since he'd taken her.

The fire shimmered inside her. She was aroused. He could smell that hunger simmering in the sweet recess of her pussy. But she was controlling it rather than it controlling her as it blazed out of control.

Lying there, he tried to feel the burning, agonizing arousal that he knew affected mates for the few months of mating unless conception occurred. Or unless Ely was able to find the required hormonal dosage for the females to aid in relieving the symptoms.

It was limited, he realized as he rose from the bed and quickly dressed. He was aroused. His cock was as hard this morning as it had been the night before. The need to take her, to spill himself inside her, was still there. But it was no longer agonizing. It was no longer so painful he felt as though he were losing his mind.

Rubbing the underside of his tongue against his teeth, he felt the minor swelling in the glands. The hormone was there, ready to release into her system once again. The glands weren't overenlarged, though neither were they burning as though fevered.

Moving to the living room, he fixed the baby's bottle, then moved to her crib to change her diaper and prepare her for her breakfast.

A small grin tugged at his lips as he met her green gaze and a wide smile split her lips.

"Hey there, little one," he whispered as he moved closer and began the process of diapering her. "Waiting on me, were you?"

It had become his practice to get up before Rachel. He often used those spare moments to play with the baby where no one could see, and to develop the bond he knew would stay with them for a lifetime.

She cooed up at him, which instantly melted his heart even though he attempted to steel himself against it. This tiny little girl, so vulnerable, had the ability to make him question himself and how his actions would be seen by her as she grew older.

Her mother knew him, perhaps in ways he didn't know himself, he thought. She was definitely stronger than he had imagined. He had expected her to be shocked, horrified, at the knowledge of the child she could conceive. Instead, she had calmly disagreed with his knowledge of what their future could hold, and calmed his fears as well.

Could it be so simple? he wondered. That a child of his could be more than a killer? That there was a chance he could raise it to value life as Jonas attempted to?

Fixing Amber's clothes, he had to grin again as her tiny foot kicked against his hand, her little arms waving in excitement. She knew it was time for him to pick her up, to cuddle her against him, and she was demanding that he hurry.

"You're going to kick ass," he told her as he lifted her from her crib moments later and gave her the bottle. "I can see it now. With an auntie like Diana, all that red hair, and me for a daddy, you won't have a choice."

He would have to teach her to protect herself. The Breeds' world wasn't one where safety was the norm. Danger was the norm, and all their children had to be prepared for it, even those who hadn't been born with Breed DNA.

Sitting in a nearby chair, he rested the child against his chest and held the bottle comfortably to her ready lips as he gazed down at her. She looked like her mother. There was nothing of her father in her. Not in looks, nor in scent.

He tested her scent, and found that Rachel's genetics far overpowered the Marshal genes. Then he frowned and tested the air again.

There was something new there, something he hadn't detected before. But it was as yet so light that he couldn't exactly pinpoint its source.

Of course, a baby's scent changed over the course of maturity, he knew that. Their scent as an infant was far different from their scent as an adult, even though it held that infant scent as a subtle undertone.

But still, Amber's shouldn't be changing so soon. She had several more months before the change would even begin, and slightly longer before it should be detectable.

As she finished her bottle, her eyes drifted shut, and sleep overtook her again as Jonas rocked her gently. Within moments, she squirmed, whimpered and, damn, but he had to grin again.

Easing his restraint, he let the contented purr of a mated Breed rumble in his chest. He'd been purring since the night he'd brought Rachel to his home. Another anomaly, he thought. Most Breeds didn't purr until after the barb had emerged during full intercourse.

Yet, Jonas had. And he'd been very careful not to allow Rachel to hear it. He wanted her comfortable with the mating before he allowed her to see exactly how much of an animal he was.

With Amber, he'd relaxed his guard though. That first night as Rachel slept, exhausted, Amber had been restless for her mother. He'd allowed the purr to escape simply because he had no idea how to hum as he'd heard Rachel when she held her child.

Amber had been immediately captivated by that purr, so much so that now she refused to sleep for Jonas unless he used the unique sound as he rocked her.

He was wrapped as tightly around her little finger as he was wrapped around her mother's.

When he could no longer sense wakefulness in the child, he laid her back in her crib before picking up the comm link he kept close by.

"Command, I need a secure line into lab level two," he ordered the security command center. "I want the channel locked and encrypted."

"Yes, Mr. Wyatt," the control Enforcer answered.

A series of static beeps and pings signaled the secure line going into place, and seconds later the first ring echoed through the line.

"I've been trying to get hold of you," Amburg answered quickly, his tone distracted. "You should answer your sat phone or comm link more often, you know."

"Really?" Jonas feigned disinterest. "What did you need?"

"I need you and your mate back in the labs together as soon as possible. I'd like to get samples while the two of you are in each other's presence to compare them against previous samples," he informed Jonas. "Ely ran your tests last night and they contained several surprising anomalies. I need to study those further and wanted to see how the added stimuli would affect the tests."

"Hmm," Jonas murmured as he felt his more calculating side overtaking the sated languor he had felt moments before.

"Does it have anything to do with the change in Amber's scent as well?"

Silence filled the line for long moments. Jonas felt a tension that hadn't been there before and knew the good doctor's face would be creasing in a thoughtful scowl. Which didn't bode well for the answers Jonas needed.

"Bring the child as well." There was a note of concern in the scientist's voice. "I don't know what the changing scent is, but if it's indeed changing, then Ely, Elizabeth and I need to figure out why."

Jonas's brows arched. When had Amburg, Ely and Elizabeth Vanderale begun working so well together that Amburg felt comfortable enough calling Elizabeth by her given name rather than Dr. Vanderale?

"We'll see you in the labs soon then," Jonas informed him before lowering his voice. "Be careful, Amburg. If I find out you're messing with tests, I promise, you'll regret it."

"You seem to forget, Wyatt, I am a scientist," Amburg stated, his tone regal now. "I may dislike you until hell freezes over, but Breed genetics and evolution have been my life. Messing with those tests never once crossed my mind, simply because it would mess with the results. Can you say the same?"

Jonas's lips quirked. Of course he couldn't. He messed with certain tests of his own every time they were conducted. Any test that would shed light on who his natural mother was, was given a thorough fucking over, though why he bothered, he wasn't always certain.

Wouldn't Leo, Dane and Callan be horrified to learn that the bogeyman of the Breeds was a full brother rather than a genetic by-blow, as Leo liked to call him?

Hell, he didn't reveal it for the simple fact that he knew that damned woman would fucking cry. Son of a bitch, he'd watched her cry over Callan when he was wounded the year before, nearly killed. She had sobbed in Leo's arms, her voice broken, agony tearing through her that she'd not had enough time to love her son. That they'd been forced apart for too long. That she deserved more time, that he deserved more life.

What would she do if she learned that her eggs, frozen by the Council when she had been a part of it, and Leo's semen, had created him? It was only after his creation that his genetics had been manipulated. Manipulated enough that evidently the parental scent had been wiped away. Only the base of Leo's scent had been retained.

"I'm finished." Rachel stepped from the bedroom, her long hair lying damp over her shoulders, her green eyes slightly darker, her arousal slightly hotter. Yet still, he could smell no distress.

He wanted to ask her to return to the bedroom with him first. He wanted to relieve the ache tightening his balls, but she smelled so fresh and soft and appeared anxious to see her daughter.

She strode quickly across the room, smiled down at her little angel, then picked her up gently and cuddled her as she begun to hum.

Jonas rubbed at the back of his neck, the ache there irritating him. Tension activated it. It bred an ache rather like a headache. There were times in the labs when the pain had been excruciating.

"I'm going to shower," he told her, fighting back the lust. He would wait on her as long as he could. "We need to return to the labs as soon as we can. Get some breakfast, and we'll leave once I'm ready."

She turned to him, frowning. "We were just there last night, Jonas. Why do we have to go back?"

"The mating heat is different enough from others that Ely will need more samples now that we've completed the mating," he informed her. He glanced at Amber, wondering how much to tell Rachel, fearing upsetting her. Hell, she'd been through enough, he didn't want to see her worry more. "And I'd like to have Amber checked once again as well."

She stilled. He could smell that edge of fear now.

"Why, Jonas? And don't bother lying to me."

He grimaced. Yeah, it was just his luck that he had a mate with an overdeveloped sense of women's intuition.

Sighing, he explained the scent, and the time line for the changes in the child. She asked few questions, merely watching him, her green eyes large in her suddenly pale face as her hold tightened on her child.

"It's nothing dangerous," he assured her. "If it was, Rachel, I'd know." He prayed he would. As a primal, his sense of smell was off the charts when compared to other Breeds. That didn't make him infallible though, and he knew it.

Rachel licked her lips nervously. "And they'll be able to figure out what's causing that change?" she asked him.

"That's the idea." He nodded. "If nothing else, they can rule out any problems."

"If she were sick, you'd know, wouldn't you, Jonas?" she suddenly asked fearfully. "If she were really sick."

He moved to her then. He couldn't bear to see the fear in her eyes.

Reaching her, he touched her cheek with his fingers before bending his head to kiss her gently. "I would know," he promised, his lips moving against hers. "Any human or Breed disease, both Ely and I can detect, sweetheart, I promise you. And I smell no disease, no sickness, simply a change I want to have checked out."

There was nothing more that he could tell her, but for the first time in his life he wanted to be able to pull the answers out of his ass to ease the fear traveling through her.

Instead, he turned and headed to the shower. There was nothing he could do but take her to those who could find the answers. And pray that he was right.

Rachel watched as he left the room, slowly rocking Amber and trying to still the panic that threatened. She was a wuss, she thought, just as Diana had always accused her of being.

She wasn't an adrenaline junkie, and she worried. Rachel was the worrywart, Diana was the daredevil. But the thought that something could be wrong with Amber, that Phillip Brandenmore had harmed her child, was enough to make her stomach roil with fear and rage.

Laying a kiss to Amber's brow, Rachel laid her back in her crib before pacing to the fireplace and staring into the low, comforting warmth of the fire.

She lived for the day Jonas managed to get that bastard out of the Middle East and into Breed custody. She wanted to be there. She wanted to make certain he felt the same fear, the same lack of security and terror her daughter had felt.

She wanted his blood, slowly. She wanted to hear him scream in pain, watch as he begged--the way she had begged while Amber cried and cried for her.

She could still hear Amber's screams as the baby heard her mother's voice, knowing her momma was near, yet a stranger held her without tenderness or care.

Rachel could still remember the way he held her. His hand to the back of her neck braced against his chest.

He had hurt her baby. He had terrified both of them, and she wanted him dead. Rachel had a very bad feeling that once the truth was revealed, she would have no compunction whatsoever about pulling the trigger to take his life. Her female intuition was making her sick now. It had been ever since Jonas had mentioned the change in Amber's scent. As though the very thought of some unknown illness had triggered a knowledge inside her that she couldn't fully decipher.

Moving back to the crib, she quickly undressed her baby, turning her, checking her for any outward signs of problems. She knew Brandenmore had injected Amber with something. Elizabeth Vanderale and Jeffrey Amburg had been certain it had only been a sedative. That had made sense. Amber had been screaming, the sound of it raking across her own nerves because of the fear in her daughter's voice. It would have irritated Brandenmore. He would have wanted her quiet.

So why hadn't he killed her?

Rachel pressed her hand against her stomach at the thought. Brandenmore didn't care about one small child, and he had meant to kill Rachel when she returned anyway. If he hadn't had plans for Amber, then why leave her alive? And if he did have plans for her, then it would be nothing that a mother could find but nightmares within.

Brandenmore was a scientist. He could have created something that hid itself within the sedative. Something that would have begun working long after initial tests were run. That was how he worked, according to the file she had read on him. He was subtle, vicious. Completely and totally deceptive.

She was shaking. She could almost feel her world shattering around her as she stared down at her still-sleeping daughter. Could she survive it if something happened to her baby?

She couldn't. Amber had matured her. Her daughter had given her a reason to live that hadn't existed before her birth.

Biting her lip, she fought to hold back the fear, the tears. Jonas could smell it. He might be in the shower, but who was to say that his sense of smell wasn't strong enough to feel the complete panic threatening to tear her apart?

Amber had known fear much too soon. She'd known pain too soon. Surely that couldn't bode well for the values she wanted to teach her daughter: acceptance, compassion, a small measure of trust that the world could be kind, at least sometimes.

And perhaps the world was trying to show Rachel otherwise.

"It's going to be okay, Rachel."

Jonas's soft voice had her whirling around to meet the dark cloth of his shirt as it stretched over his chest. Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes as he smoothed a tear from her cheek, which she hadn't even been aware she had shed.

"How can you be certain?" she whispered as his arms came around her. "How can I protect her, Jonas, when he's already done something to hurt her?"

Her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt as she fought to control the racing of her heart, the shudders beginning to wrack her body.

This was her baby. Her child. So innocent, so dependent on her mother to ensure that she wasn't harmed. She'd already failed her.

"Because I'll ensure it." His tone was so certain, so confident. "We have the finest minds working in Breed research. Scientists that exceptionally intelligent, Rachel, will find out what, if anything, Brandenmore has done. And if they don't"--he gripped her arms, holding her back at she stared down at her, the arrogance and pure determination in his expression brightening his eyes to a neon silver--"if they don't, I'll bring Brandenmore here, and trust me, once I have him here in my territory, he will talk."

That confidence sank into her. She had never seen Jonas break a promise. Even when she had been certain there was no way he could make something he had promised the Breed cabinet to work, he'd still managed it.

He manipulated, he connived. He threatened, he wasn't very good at cajoling, but he knew how to terrify a person. And he always, always did as he said he would.

"She's just a baby," she whispered, trying to explain her fear.

"Shhh." He laid his finger against her lips. "She's our child. She may not share my blood, Rachel, but she's captured my heart, as you've captured my soul. Never doubt, no matter the cost, I will protect our child."

Not her child. Not his child. Their child.

For the first time in Rachel's life, standing there in his arms, she felt that long-buried fear of desertion slowly ease away.

It would never be easy, living with Jonas. It might never be calm. But as she stood there, his arms wrapped around her, his warmth sheltering her, she knew it would always be exactly where she wanted to be. And something that nothing, or no one, could ever steal from her.