Megans Mark (Breeds 6)

Dark midnight-blue eyes, nearly black, had seemed overlarge in her pale face, filled with excitement and an edge of confusion. But there was no fear. She was pissed. Quickly falling from an adrenaline high and aching with the demands she had put on her body in the past two days.

But she wasn't scared.

And he couldn't wrap her up. He couldn't shelter her from the danger. He could only stand behind her and pray he could help her. The world wasn't a playground filled with laughter and games. At least, his world wasn't. It was bathed in blood and cruelty and only the strongest survived. She was being thrown into the middle of his world for some reason he couldn't fathom. He couldn't protect her from that. He could only guide her through it.

"She's a warrior. " The old man, her grandfather, spoke behind him.

"She's a woman," the father snapped furiously. "Darnmit, Lance, what the hell is going on?"

"She's crazy, is what's going on," Lance argued. "She drove right into a murder scene yesterday afternoon with me screaming at her to back off. The woman is looking for trouble. This time, it found her. "

"She searches for justice_" Joseph murmured.

And they were all searching for a way to protect her. Their need to shelter her was slowly smothering her. Braden could feel it, could see it in her face. She needed to fight, and now she had no choice but to do just that.

"No. " He turned to face them all. "She's a fighter and a survivor and if she's going to suivive this in any way, then you'll have to let her fight.

Until we find out why the Genetics Council marked her, we have to let her fight, or you'll all lose her. "

Silence, waves of fury, confusion and one old man's knowledge seemed to flow around him. He met the sharp, ages-old gaze of the old Navajo who stared back at him, his graying braids framing his square, stark expression.

"She is a warrior," the old man said, raising his head in pride. "But beware, my young Lion, she is also a woman. And that is most often every male's greatest weakness. Even your own. "

How the old man knew who and what he was, Braden didn't know and he didn't care. Now, as earlier, confusion swamped him. The Breeds, except for a very select few, had no children. No mothers, no fathers, uncles or cousins.

They were created in a Lab, trained rather than raised, and now fought daily for survival in a world that wasn't certain exactly what to do with this new species.

Braden had never experienced the emotion, the sheer protective fury and determination to protect one's family.

He could easily see the three men slowly smothering the woman's fighting spirit with their love.

"You'd better come up with a plan before she gets back down here. " Lance hissed as he stared at his uncle and grandfather. "I'm not firing her. She'll never forgive me. Besides, she just ignores me when I try. "

"I told you to do that three months ago," David, the father, snarled furiously. "The very day he"-he jerked his thumb at the old man-"heard her name on the winds. "But no, wait, Uncle_" he mocked the younger man.

"Don't hurt her. She'll leave Broken Butte. ' "

"Or shoot me," Lance snapped. "Dammit, Uncle, she's had three offers from the larger cities but she stays here instead. Push her too far and she'll leave. "

"I won't allow it. "

"You cannot stop it, my son_" the old man said.

"Bloody hell, she's going to find trouble no matter where she goes_" Lance argued.

Braden cocked his head, watching as the three argued. How interesting. Personally, he thought it was a bit delayed and definitely the wrong time for accusations, but interesting all the same.

The three males were obviously well used to arguing over how best to protect a woman who wanted nothing more than to be who she was, to fight as she was needed. It defied logic. Women were as fierce and often less merciful than any man. They were excellent fighters when they cared for the battle they were engaged in or for those they fought for. And Megan was all woman. In that moment, he decided, she was also his woman.

Chapter Four

Megan was in no better mood the next morning than she had been the night before when Braden and Lance dragged their sorry butts into her guest rooms to sleep. The dead bodies had been cleared out of her house by ill-tempered Feline Breeds, one of which was a scary, silver-eyed son of Satan she was really glad didn't stick around long.

/>

Her father and grandfather had finally left around midnight, under protest. Braden and Lance had stayed, which meant sleep had been next to impossible knowing that the object of her arousal was so close. She had ached for his touch, her skin so sensitive that even the sheets were an irritation against it.

Now, with the breakfast dishes cleared away and coffee sustaining her, Megan stared at Lance and Braden. Fighting this wasn't going to work, and she knew it. As much as she hated it, she needed Braden in this fight.