Rule Breaker: A Novel of the Breeds (12 page)

She had nearly asked him to help her when she began looking but had rejected it. She was certain Kandy wasn’t in any trouble, but she could sense something wrong.

“Do you know where she’s at?” Gypsy clenched her fingers on the edge of the counter as she prayed she’d been right.

“Mark’s grave,” he answered. “Maybe you should join her, Gypsy. Perhaps it’s time to see the past from a new perspective.”

Gypsy didn’t move as he turned and disappeared into her bedroom, knowing that joining her sister at that lonely, desolate place was something she couldn’t do.

Not now.

Perhaps not ever.

Something inside her tightened to the point that pain lanced her heart, drawing a ragged sob from her chest.

She didn’t cry.

She never cried.

She’d shed all her tears the night Mark had fallen to the ground, staring back at her with such bleak sorrow.

His face flashed before her as her fists jerked up, pressing into her closed eyes as she fought against the image she couldn’t seem to get out of her head.

Her stomach churned with memories she kept buried until these flashing moments of weakness, of agonizing realization. She couldn’t breathe, and her throat felt so tight that swallowing nearly had her retching.

Why? Why had he told her that?

She would have preferred to just not know where Kandy was disappearing to and why she was staying out so late.

God, why was her sister doing that?

Why was she going to that place?

Gypsy hated that piece of ground.

She refused to go near it now, wouldn’t even drive past it whenever her destination called for it. She always took an alternate route.

She couldn’t bear the thought of looking over to that beautiful rise to see the black onyx stone that marked it.

“Why?” Before she could suppress the shattered scream inside her, it escaped her lips as her hand gripped a glass vase on the shelf next to her, which she threw with enough force to launch it across the room. “Damn you, why?”

Enraged, knowing she couldn’t bear the walls closing in on her, she turned and made her way from her apartment and into the darkness.

Where secrets hid.

...

The haunting, hollow cry of the young woman hiding in the apartment across from the sheltered copse of trees and the shadows where he hid had Dane grimacing with regret.

She was one of his greatest failures, he thought regretfully. Her brother was his greatest. How in God’s name had he not been able to anticipate the betrayal that killed Mark McQuade, and in nine years of searching, why hadn’t he found the bastard who had betrayed the young man and allowed that child to carry the blame?

It haunted him, knowing that whoever had turned McQuade’s identity over to the Genetics Council wasn’t the Coyote Breed who had died for it, though he had been no less guilty. The man who had destroyed that child’s life had gotten away clean, at least for now.

Dane stared at the apartment, aching for the loss he hadn’t been able to stop as a shadow shifted at the side of the building, then disappeared.

Remaining silent, Dane caught sight of the warrior again seconds later, moving toward him. He watched as his contact paused and removed the thin painted mask he wore before folding it and shoving it into his pocket.

His lips quirked at the thought of that mask. It had been fooling humans and Breeds alike for decades. It was a creation of the first Leo’s, and one whose workings Dane had been unable to figure out to this day.

Removing a cigar from his pocket and bringing it to his lips, he then handed one to the Breed standing against the tree beside him.

Lighting the cigar, Dane then handed the lighter to the Coyote as well, waited as he lit his own, then accepted it back and pocketed it.

“The two of you are going to piss me off.” The warrior moved over to them, glaring at them irately.

Pulling another cigar free of his pocket, Dane handed it to the newcomer before watching him use his own lighter to ignite it.

“How’s she doing?” Dane nodded to the apartment as the warrior exhaled, irritation inherent in the sound.

“That has to be the most stubborn damn woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he bit out, grinding his teeth over the words. “She’s been at this nine years now and has no intention of letting up. I thought you said that bastard who was all over her ass tonight was her mate?”

Dane couldn’t help but smile. “He’s her mate, I assure you.” He did nothing to hide the heavy South African accent he carried.

“Yeah, that’s why she’s up there trying to figure out how to learn who’s betrayed the Unknown when she’s staring at the bastard who did the betraying.”

Dane stared at the warrior, knowing far more about him than he was sure the man would find comfortable.

“All for the greater good, my friend,” Dog drawled with a curious lack of accent. “We can’t have a traitor in the ranks.”

“Using her like this doesn’t sit well with me,” the warrior informed them, not for the first time. “And what the hell kind of mating was that anyway? Why is she up there by herself screaming like her soul is being cut out, if he’s her mate? And ignoring the question’s not going to make it go away, Dane.”

No, this—warrior—was more stubborn than most. He wouldn’t stop looking for an answer if he thought Dane was deliberately not answering him.

“I’m not certain yet why the mating didn’t occur,” he answered, his gaze returning to the apartment thoughtfully. “I am entirely certain, though, that she’s his mate.”

“How?” It was Dog who asked that question, confusion apparent in his voice. “How can you be so sure?”

How could he be so certain? Dane almost grinned, but he was far too aware of the other two watching him. He couldn’t claim to have smelled it, because Dog was a Breed as well; he would instantly question why he hadn’t smelled it.

That left the truth, which was far stranger than fiction.

Lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck, he stared at both men a bit uncomfortably. This wasn’t going to be an easy explanation and it was one he rarely made.

“I sense it,” he finally muttered.

“Excuse me? You what?” Dog asked with his ever-present mockery, albeit thicker than normal.

“It’s complicated,” he gritted out, not enjoying the sensation of having others watch him as he so often watched them.

“You don’t say,” Dog commented wryly. “Why not explain it to us anyway?”

Shooting him a glare, Dane bit down on the tip of his cigar before clenching it between his thumb and forefinger and lowering it slowly.

“I told you, I just sense it,” he repeated, forcing back his discomfort.

He’d be damned if he’d let that grinning jackass of a Coyote know that he felt a bit at odds trying to explain the little talent he had.

“Do tell,” the warrior suggested, a bit more firmly than Dog had.

“Telling’s the hard part,” he admitted with a twist of his lips. “It’s a knowledge that’s there once I see them together. Rather like a gut feeling.”

“Gut feeling, huh?” Dog was definitely laughing at him; thankfully, it was silent laughter.

Dane couldn’t help but let his lips twitch, because with this Breed, he would definitely have the last laugh.

“And sometimes, all I have to do is hear a certain name on a Breed’s lips to know who his mate is. Want to start naming names,
boet
?” The South African slang for “friend” slipped before he could stop it. A problem he was having more often of late.

Dog’s eyes instantly narrowed as suspicion lit them, the gray darkening, flickering with a hint of anger.

“Stop letting him rile you, Dog,” the warrior grunted in disgust from Dane’s other side. “He tried that one on me last year. You have to know him well enough not to let him mess with your mind.”

Oh, he could do far more than mess with Dog’s mind. There was a reason he had sought out the Coyote and formed a friendship with him when he had. If this Breed didn’t have friends soon, not just acquaintances or other Breeds who didn’t care to fight with him, then he was going to be in a spot of trouble.

“You’re going to end up in a world of hurt if you make the mistake of messing with what you assume is my mind,” Dog warned him quietly.

“There would first have to be a mind within that thick skull of yours to mess with,” Dane suggested mockingly before turning back to the warrior. “Rescind the virginity clause and give her a choice. I never understood why you put her under such constraints to begin with when you’ve done it with no one else.”

Surprise reflected on the other man’s face before instant denial filled his gaze.

“The hell I will.” The warrior suddenly tensed, his brows jerking together in a frown as the tinted contacts he wore picked up the faint hint of color that Dane was certain he’d want no one to glimpse.

“Virginity clause?” Dog was far too easily distracted tonight, Dane thought with silent sarcasm.

Did Breeds have trouble with ADHD that he was unaware of?

“If I rescind the clause, she’ll become suspicious,” the warrior said, ignoring Dog’s query. “She’s too well trained for that, Dane, and you made certain of it. She’ll instantly know she’s being set up, and don’t think she hasn’t been listening long and hard for proof of Mating Heat whenever she listens to the Breeds talking. If she catches a whiff that it could be true and Rule’s her mate, then she just might turn tail and run for good long before he does.”

“She’ll not hear anything there.” Dog’s assurance had Dane staring back at him now.

“Breeds gossip worse than old women,” he reminded the Coyote.

“Not here, not about Mating Heat.” Dog shook his head firmly. “Jonas put the word out before the first Breed headed out here nine years ago, I hear. He reinforced it when the search for Brandenmore’s research pets led them out here again. And he made it clear, if word of Mating Heat is gossiped about, or the words ‘mates’ or ‘mating’ are mentioned, then he is going to start chopping off heads. Literally.”

Dane shook his head before looking to the stars in search of help where his brother was concerned. That boy was a danger to himself sometimes, not to mention Mating Heat in general. The legend of the Mate Matcher was definitely sealing itself within stone. And Jonas with it if the other Breed wasn’t extremely careful.

“Assuming she really is his mate,” the warrior said then, “what happened tonight? Because he’s damned sure not in bed with her.”

To that, Dane could only shake his head, because he didn’t have a clue. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t figure it out.

“Rule will run if he even suspects that’s his mate,” Dog stated then, causing that “something,” that extra sense to shift inside him.

“His animal instincts won’t let him run, from what I understand,” the warrior argued, with a hint of a question in his voice.

Ahh, there was the key.

“It wouldn’t matter if his instinct was a full-grown in-his-face Lion,” Dog grunted. “That Breed even suspects his mate is in the area, might be in the area, or could be arriving at any time in the near future, and trust me, he’s gone. He’ll run.”

“Why the hell would he do that?” The disbelief in the warrior’s tone ran thick with amazement. “I thought male Breeds worshipped their mates or some shit.”

“Or some shit,” Dog grunted. “But Rule watched not just his mother’s mate be dissected alive, but also his mother, because of the Mating Heat and the scientists’ determination to view the effects of it on the living body. According to those gossiping Breeds you mentioned, he’s that determined to protect his mate from even the chance of that happening to her. His belief is that the best way a Breed can protect his mate is to never mate her to begin with.”

Dane sensed the surprise emanating from the warrior who believed that he knew all the secrets while hiding his own.

Children, he thought, restraining himself from shaking his head. Both of them.

They had no secrets at all where he was concerned, but letting them believe they did was a bit of fun now and then.

Even as amusement gathered inside him, so did a sense of knowledge where Rule Breaker was concerned.

The mating was there. Gypsy Rum McQuade was definitely his mate, but the animal, the animal senses rather, were far smarter than the Breed, evidently.

Dane turned to the warrior. “What do you think she’ll do?”

The warrior crossed his arms over his chest, gazing back at him thoughtfully.

This man knew Gypsy McQuade better than anyone, even her parents, he guessed.

“She’ll seek out her friends first,” he finally answered. “Liza, Isabelle, and Jonas’s mate, Rachel. Perhaps even the Coyote females. She knows them quite well and parties with them often. When there are no answers to be found there, only then will she go to Breaker.”

“He would be the most direct route,” Dane pointed out. “Why not go to him first?”

“Because he spooked her.” The warrior suddenly grinned. “And he’s the first man who’s managed to do that. He has her so spooked, he just might have her running scared. And, boys”—pure anticipation filled the other man’s voice now—“I’ve never seen Gypsy Rum McQuade run scared from any man or Breed. I’m damned sure looking forward to this one.”

What the warrior wasn’t thinking of, what he wasn’t remembering, was that Gypsy had remained a virgin all these years to continue working with the Unknown for a reason.

She was trying to deserve to live.

She’d never forgiven herself for something that was never her fault to begin with.

Her brother’s death.

She wouldn’t give in easily, and if she did—if she did, he hoped Rule had the good sense to give her more to live for than she would believe she needed to die for. Just as he hoped that in Gypsy, Rule could find a mate he deemed worthy of fighting his fears for. Because in this world, in this time, being a Breed wasn’t easy, nor was it much safer than it had been before.

Now, a Breed had so much more to lose.

Perhaps his father had been right last year when he’d suggested to Dane that it was time to place both woman and Breed in a position that neither could refuse nor run from. A position that would give that animal skulking inside Rule the best chance possible of claiming his mate before Rule realized what was about. And the best chance for the woman to be mated.