Rule Breaker (Breeds 20)

“Claire Martinez.” A sudden thought struck her. “Oh, do tell me the two of you haven’t been after the same rogue? Let me guess, she beat you to him?” She had to laugh at that. “She’s exquisitely well trained, you know. I wish I were half as vicious as she can be when she’s tracking them. I love watching the show.”

Something glittered savagely in his eyes.

Oh dear, perhaps it wasn’t a joke to the surly feline. Well now, just imagine that.

He lifted the side of his lip in an insulting little sneer before turning away from her. “No female outtracks me, Khileen, and you know it.”

“I can’t outtrack you,” she admitted with a light laugh. “But trust me, Claire has mad tracking skills. I’m very proud of her. If the Unknown actually existed, then I would say she’s their next candidate as a warrior.”

“I’m leaving.” His stride became determined as he began moving for the exit leading to the mountains beyond.

That fast?

“No explanation?” she questioned him sharply. “Well, isn’t that a fine thank-you for all the trouble we’ve gone through to hide your cute little ass here.”

He swung around again, the clawed fingers curling as though he wanted nothing better than to claw for blood.

“Hide my ass?” he snarled again. “Like fuck, little girl. I was hiding myself just fucking fine when your daddy”—he sneered the word—“decided he needed a little side work done, with his baby brother out chasing your momma and all after she so conveniently faked her death.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Gideon,” she warned him quietly. “I owe you several debts, but none of those debts give you leave to treat me so disrespectfully. Because never have I treated you with less than utter respect.”

And he couldn’t deny it.

“What the fuck do you and your damned family want from me?” he roared back at her, muscles bunching, shifting dangerously beneath the fine white shirt and fawn breeches he wore.

He was truly an exceptional male, though she knew one more so . . . She cut that thought off quickly.

“Your friendship,” she answered sincerely, stilling the anger that could have risen inside her, reminding herself that friends were something Gideon, the Breed who now called himself Graeme, had very few of. “You owe many debts; consider the request Rule made merely the absolution of one of those debts. The request isn’t too onerous, and you gain a favor from the Breed slated to become the division director of the Western Division of the Bureau of Breed Affairs.” She gave a little laugh. “Say that three times quickly. I dare you.”

He glared at her rather than sharing her amusement as he once would have.

Straightening, she dropped her arms, tucked her fingers into the pockets of her riding breeches and faced him squarely.

“Fine, Rule would owe both of us a favor then. You for taking care of this matter for him, and for allowing him and his mate to be a part of it. He would owe me for ensuring there was a safe place to have the matter dealt with, and that no other eyes or ears are aware of the event. I may have need of that favor in the future.”

“When your mate is brought up on charges of violating his agreement with the Bureau when he covered up his brother’s crimes, you mean?” he sneered. “Really, Khileen, do you think this favor is that big? Big enough to save the man you—”

“Don’t.” She kept her voice soft, firm, though the well of pain that rose in her chest was like a brutal white-hot poker searing her soul. “Don’t make us enemies. You’re only angry because I realized your secret and was smart enough to follow you and ensure your escape.”

“I had my escape covered, little girl,” he bit out. “And I’m angry because you made me break the promise I gave your mate to ensure you stayed out of danger. You are fucking danger waiting to happen in capital fucking letters.”

“And the vulgarity so does not become you,” she sighed. “Now, back to the original question. Yes, this favor will garner quite a large amount of brownie points with the division director. I promise you that. After all, he contacted you, didn’t he? Jonas isn’t here demanding you show yourself.” She fanned her arms to indicate the estate as a whole as well as Lobo Reever’s home. “You’re simply in a snide mood because you know this last injection will make the child cry for you and you won’t be able to go to her. I understand that. And I did tell you once that if you ever needed help in your ventures, I would be there to aid you as well, didn’t I?”

He blinked back at her.

He turned from her, looked over his shoulder in disbelief, then raked his fingers through his hair again before stalking to her favorite recliner, the one he hadn’t returned to the storage room, then threw himself in it, sprawling out with such disrespectful slouchiness that she could only shake her head at him.

“You amaze me,” he said, his voice a bit more normal now. “Absolutely-fucking-amaze me, Khi.”

At least he was calling her Khi again.

“Why, thank you, Graeme.” She smiled back at him with all the charm her mother had beaten into her when she was younger. “I’m rather proud of my ability to do this to such a strikingly intelligent man, you know.”

He blinked back at her again before narrowing his eyes, that brilliant light green color gleaming back at her with a hint, a promise of retribution if she wasn’t extremely careful.

She didn’t do careful really well, though.

“Call him,” he growled. “Put your ass on the line with mine if you’re so fucking sure of him. Call him, tell him he’ll find the coordinates buried in the programming of the nano-nit currently attached to his e-pad. Time will be at thirty minutes before the time Mark McQuade was killed. If he doesn’t know the exact time, he can ask his mate. I’m certain she remembers.”