Tanner's Scheme (38 page)

“I’ll be fine.” She was assuring them both.

She lifted her chin, reminding herself that she had done this countless times in other settings without so much as a twinge of nerves.

Tanner’s hand rode low on her back as they left the suite and moved to the wide, curving staircase that led to the crowded foyer and ballroom. Breed Enforcers were en masse, stationed with silent watchfulness every few feet up the stairs. Below, they had positioned themselves at the doors leading into the house and the ballroom, as well as the other rooms that led off the foyer. Only the ballroom was open. All other doors had been closed and carefully locked.

The ballroom doors were thrown open, and she knew the French doors leading into the gardens beyond would be open, allowing the guests to wander out for fresh air in the heavily secured and well-lit gardens.

No sooner had they stepped from the stairway into the foyer than the three reporters invited were striding toward them. Cassa Hawkins was a reporter and newcaster for INS, the International News Service; Joel Briggins from CNN was there, as well as Philippe Augustan of ENI, Euro-News International. Each reporter had his or her own cameraman following behind. The small recording devices normally uploaded their video feed live to the stations, but with the communications blackout at Sanctuary at the moment, they were on record only, to be uploaded after Jonas had previewed each disc.

“Scheme, you don’t look drugged to me.” Cassa Hawkins made a little moue of disappointment as she stepped past the Breed Enforcer that had stepped closer as they entered the foyer.

Cassa was in her thirties, cool and polished. A natural blonde with steady gray eyes and porcelain skin. She could be amusing but frighteningly sharp.

“Of course I am, Cassa.” Scheme smiled as Tanner tucked her hand into the curve of his arm and glared at the reporters. “Tanner can be quite addictive in certain areas.”

They had no clue how addictive.

Cassa’s agreeable laughter was soft, but her eyes missed nothing. Not Tanner’s good looks or the way he seemed to hover over Scheme protectively.

“He could be indeed,” she agreed. “Do you think he would allow us a few moments alone? He’s glaring at me, you know.”

And he was. Glaring at her and the camerman behind her.

“Tanner, I’ll be fine.” She slid her hand from his arm and glanced around. “There are enough enforcers here to fight a small war. And I could use a drink if you don’t mind.”

His amber eyes gleamed down at her, rich with amusement and a shade of disapproval.

“I won’t be far,” he promised her, warned the others.

“He’s very protective,” Cassa said softly as Tanner moved to Sherra, resplendent in a smoky gown as she stood beside her husband, Kane Tyler.

“He’s had reason to be.” Scheme let her gaze harden as she stared back at the reporter, then her cameraman, before moving back to Cassa. “Turn him off.”

Cassa sighed. “Go get a drink, Monty, and some nice shots of the party.”

Monty mumbled and moved away before Scheme turned to the other two reporters. “Sorry, guys.” She smiled. “Girl talk. Can we chat later?”

The promise to chat later had them smiling agreeably, if suspiciously, before moving away.

“General Tallant is frothing at the mouth,” Cassa said as Scheme led her to the far end of the foyer with a small indication to the enforcers to keep others at bay. “And word is that the pure blood societies are arming to attack any Breed they come across.”

“They do anyway.” Scheme sighed. “Now let me ask you something, Cassa. Whose side are you on?”

“The truth.” The answer was given without hesitation. And Scheme believed her. Cassa was a fanatic about the truth. It had nearly cost her her job and her life on more than one occasion.

“Excellent.” Scheme stared back at her in focused determination. “You and I have talked often in the past. Do you believe General Tallant, or what you see now?”

Cassa’s lips twitched. “Honey, I doubt the devil himself could brainwash you. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on and if the rumors are true that General Tallant is fighting to keep the skeletons in the closet, or just his little girl close to his side. And if it’s okay with you, let my cameraman back in here.”

The last was said with subtle mockery. Cassa wanted an exclusive, but she was willing to play nice with it.

Scheme nodded to the enforcer a few feet away, who waved the cameraman over.

With polished expertise, Cassa turned to the camera. “I’m talking to Scheme Tallant, General Cyrus Tallant’s daughter and rumored personal assistant. We’re at Sanctuary, the home of countless Feline Breeds and the main base of operations, where Miss Tallant and Mr. Tanner Reynolds are preparing to announce their engagement on the heels of her father’s accusations of brainwashing and coercion.” She turned back to Scheme. “Miss Tallant, I must say after knowing you for several years, you don’t look in the least brainwashed. Why is your father claiming you are?”

Scheme put on her “public” face and gave Cassa a practiced, charming smile.

“To hide the truth.”

“And the truth is, Miss Tallant?”

“That he would do anything to silence the truth that will be revealed in the coming weeks. The truth that he’s murdered countless Breeds, and had Tanner not moved quickly, he would have murdered me as well.”

Her heart ached, and she didn’t know why. He had never been a father. He had never cared for anything other than his fanatical dreams of controlling the Breeds.

“Why would your father want you dead?”

“Because I know the atrocities he’s committed. Because, Ms. Hawkins, for the past eight years I’ve been a double agent for the Bureau of Breed Affairs, working directly with Jonas Wyatt. I know my father’s secrets. And he would do anything to silence me.”

The interview with Cassa went smoothly, despite the constant interruptions the other reporters tried to make. The enforcers held them off dutifully though, and once she finished with Cassa, Scheme gave the others a few minutes with their questions. It wasn’t much, but they would have airtime. Tanner had also talked with them, and before they entered the ballroom, Tanner and Scheme were interviewed together.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that her father was up to something more. That he had an ace he hadn’t played yet and was just waiting on her. The communications blackout had kept the spy’s transmissions from going through, and Jonas had whispered to Tanner that they were narrowing the location of the attempted transmissions further in the mountain.

Which left the estate house safe, at least for now.

“One of these days,” Scheme commented as they left the reporters, “one of those reporters is going to catch onto your lies.”

He chuckled at that, pausing as he moved to a small group of women gathered around one tall, blond-haired cowboy.

“Scheme, I’d like you to meet some friends,” he announced. “Tamber Mason.” A tall, well-toned brunette with twinkling brown eyes reached out to shake her hand with a murmured, almost too soft hello. She appeared shy. Restrained. Though the low-cut, almost too short silver dress she wore was anything but restrained. “Tamber is our resident communications expert. She runs the comm shed like a little drill sergeant.”

Tamber ducked her head as though embarrassed with the praise.

“It’s good to meet you, Tamber.” Tamber nodded, mumbled again and offered a small smile.

“This is Shiloh Gage.” He introduced an auburn-haired Jaguar Breed beside Tamber.

This Breed, Scheme remembered.

“The brat?” Scheme’s lips twitched as the other girl stared back at her with brazen curiosity.

Shiloh Gage had been known for several things in the labs she had been created in. Among them was her ability to work the scientists and trainers in a manner that screamed princess brat. Tonight she was dressed in snug tan breeches and a sleeveless, deeply cut vest that revealed a generous cleavage.

She should have been killed within the first five years of her life. Instead, the scientists had written in their reports that they kept her alive for study purposes. They were trying to figure out where she had managed to get the idea that she deserved life, and why she assumed they would care. Personally, Scheme knew that the scientists in that particular lab had a sense of humor.

“That’s me,” Shiloh agreed archly.

“And she doesn’t mind admitting to it.” The tall, blond-haired Southern charmer, human, ex-mercenary and general bad ass, Simon Quatres, spoke from beside Shiloh. “I assume you know who I am?”

“Not everyone knows you, Simon,” Shiloh informed him querulously.

“Actually, I have read several reports on him,” Scheme agreed. Thankfully, he didn’t insist on shaking her hand. The pain would have been hard to hide. “It’s good to meet you.”

“And it’s fine to finally meet you, ma’am,” he drawled. “Ole Tanner seemed to do well for himself after all. He’s surprised us.”

Tanner grunted in reply.

“Callan’s motioning for us now,” Tanner told her, gripping her elbow as she offered her good-byes to the small group.

“Meet and run. An interesting concept,” she told him as they headed toward the front of the ballroom.

“Cabal’s watching,” he murmured in her ear. “You’ll meet a lot of the others the same way.”

“Tamber’s much different from her files,” she said. “I wouldn’t have thought she would be so shy.”

“Pissed is more like it,” Tanner sighed. “We had to order her out of the comm shed tonight. She’s been installing new equipment this month and didn’t want to leave her babies.”

Shaking her head, Scheme drew in a deep breath as they neared Callan and stepped onto the podium erected for the band at the far end of the ballroom. Time to smile and play nice, she thought as her gaze swept the room, seeing the distrust, and in many cases the animosity, that filled the eyes of those watching. It was going to be a very interesting night indeed.

———

Moving through the ballroom after the announcement of their engagement, Scheme spotted Jolian slipping quietly through the French door into the gardens beyond. She knew Jolian had taken a hell of a mental beating from Jonas earlier yesterday, and if the girl’s pale face was any indication, she still hadn’t recovered.

Why she should care, Scheme wasn’t certain. But she did. As Tanner stood talking to Jonas, Dane Vanderale and several politicians, she slipped away, certain he would never allow her to go after the little Panther Breed otherwise.

And slipping away from Tanner wasn’t an easy thing to do. She stopped by several clusters of guests, chatted, smiled, made certain she wasn’t touched, because the first brush she’d had against someone other than Tanner had felt like knives tearing through her flesh.

Long minutes later she edged around the French doors though and stepped onto the patio where Jolian stood silently. And alone.

“Jolian.” Scheme tilted her head, watching as the Breed female tensed at the sound of her voice.

“You should go back inside,” Jolian told her firmly, if a bit huskily. “Cabal would be upset to find us near each other.”

Cabal would be. Strangely enough, Jolian wasn’t worried about Tanner.

“I don’t believe you mean me any harm. I warned them they were making a mistake.”

Jolian’s head lowered, her hands gripping the stone rail that edged the marble patio.

“They think I’m a spy.” Her mocking laughter was a thread of pain. “I could see it in Cabal’s eyes. They were filled with disgust.”

And Jolian was filled with pain because of it.

“You’re in love with him,” Scheme guessed.

“And you’re mated to him and his brother. Damn, some people just have all the luck, don’t they?”

Jolian didn’t turn around. Her hands lifted from the balustrade though and wrapped around her breasts. The loose cream-colored gown she wore wasn’t particularly flattering on her frame, and it was evident no one had taken the time to try to advise her on her dress. Most likely, the other Breeds were steering a path far clear of her at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Scheme said softly. “About Cabal and about what happened yesterday. If you would let me, I could make it up to you.”

Give her some hair and clothes advice to start with.

“How could you help me?” Jolian turned to her, anger marking her face, her gaze. Then her eyes widened, rolled back in her head, and she slumped to the ground.

Scheme rushed toward her, without thinking, without considering the consequences. In the next second, blinding pain shot through her head, sending a blaze of white-hot light to explode in front of her eyes as she felt herself crumpling over the other woman. And wishing to hell she hadn’t come out here without Tanner.

———

Tamber Mason.

She was trained in communications, and she had been a part of the inner circle of the pride since Sanctuary was first inhabited by the Breeds. She was Merinus’s friend and sometimes bodyguard and Callan’s most trusted communications expert. She often went shopping with Sherra, sparred with Dawn and was rumored to have slept with Tanner and Cabal on several occasions.

She was also Cyrus Tallant’s spy.

This was why the spy was so confident. Why Cyrus had such a hard time controlling her. Her place within Sanctuary had been firmly established years ago. She was, in essence, a part of the family.

Scheme had seen all their files. The Breeds at Sanctuary as well as those now working in the law enforcement and military areas. She had gone over them, studied them, learned all she could about them before they were destroyed. And she had somehow managed to let this one blip past her radar.

Because Tamber was plain. Unassuming. There had been nothing in her files to indicate a connection to Cyrus Tallant or to anyone within her father’s organization. She was simply a well-loved member of the Lyons’ extended family.

But all Scheme had had was her picture to go by. Once she fully heard Tamber Mason’s voice rather than the mumble she had been given at the party, Scheme knew exactly who she was. Her father’s second in command’s former lover.

Scheme had only heard her voice; her father’s wannabe son had never mentioned her name or her expertise.