Propping the pillows behind her back, Jess stared back at him from intelligent gray eyes, an amused smile on her kiss-swollen lips.
"We need to move on the case pending against the Breed found beaten to death last week," Jess commented as he pulled on his socks before picking up his slacks. "I want those supremacists under Breed Law rather than international law. I'm sure the Ruling Cabinet can find a way to make them regret the errors of their ways."
"I disagree." He speared her with a dark look. "Let the justice system have them and oversee the case against them. The press will have a field day with it. A Breed videotaped attempting not to hurt its captors, to merely escape, and being beaten nearly to death for his efforts. It will engender sympathy and compassion as well as outrage. Kill them, and the Breeds will be seen as no better than those striking against them." A frown flitted across her face. "We have a right to justice," she said stiffly. "The same group raped and murdered that young female Breed the month before and you know it. We can't let this continue."
"Once they're free, I'll take care of them." He pulled the silk shirt over his shoulders and buttoned it before tucking it into his pants. "Such people disappear all the time. For now, it's better to let the humans believe they are policing themselves." It helped that one of Alonzo's lieutenants had been found dead at the scene of Harmony and Lance's attack. Pinning the blame for the sheriff's near murder on the supremacist group had gone a long way to fracturing much of their power.
A bit of careful maneuvering and Jonas had laid in the groundwork for the demise of the assassin known as Death as well. He had laid it right at the feet of the supremacist lieutenant Harmony had killed.
To Jonas, that was justice. Harmony was now safe in Broken Butte with her mate, and those who suspected her as Death could no longer speak to betray her.
"These games of yours are going to get someone killed," Jess finally said and sighed as he finished dressing.
His smile was tight, cold. "Most likely," he agreed. "Blood supremacists and those damned purist groups if I have my way about it. The world would be better off without them."
"And so they say about the Breeds." She shook her head as she rose from her bed. "I'll make certain the case goes to trial, but you have twelve jurors who may well let them off." It wasn't unknown. Convicting the supremacists was never easy.
"Making them disappear is easy enough." The fact that they would get off didn't bother him nearly as much as the fear that it wouldn't go to trial.
If they succeeded in beating the charges after the clear proof that they had committed the crime, then he would know which direction he needed to go in terms of raising awareness to the prejudice that threatened the Breeds. Anything could be worked, especially emotion.
Until then, he needed to refine his plan to draw out the first Leo. If the Breeds were lucky, he could squeeze out another year before the world learned of the mating heat. Hopefully, this would give him and the scientists working on the phenomena time to learn the secrets of the delayed aging.
Callan Lyons, the Pride leader, was over forty now; according to his tests and his physical appearance, he might have aged a year since his mating, though Jonas doubted it. Kane Tyler, the human mate to Sherra, Callan's adopted feline sister, hadn't aged either. Nor had the women. Speculation was already growing, and keeping them out of the public eye was next to impossible. The situation was becoming explosive, especially with the spy working within Sanctuary.
But there would always be spies. Betrayal was commonplace to Jonas. That didn't mean he had to let the spies live once he learned their identities.
"You're zoning out again, Jonas." Jess's crisp voice had him gazing back at her as he pushed his feet into his soft leather wing-tip shoes and sat down to tie them. He preferred boots, but he'd learned that in this arena of warfare, appearance meant everything.
"I have work to do, Jess." Playtime was over. "Take care of your end and I'll take care of mine."
Her laughter was smooth, and surprisingly warm. It was rare that he could piss her off, though sometimes he did try.
"Watching you mate is going to be so much fun," she drawled as his gaze jerked up to her, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm not mated," he reminded her carefully.
"Not yet." The open amusement on her face was damned offensive. "But when you do, it's going to be so funny, Jonas. I hope I'm there to see it."
Figured. And who said the females were the gentle ones? They had no idea what they were talking about.
"I have work to do." He rose to his feet and headed to the bedroom door. "I'll see you at the office in the morning. Remember we have to fly to Sanctuary." Damned Vanderale Industries was threatening to pull the plug on the deal for weapons and vehicles the Breeds needed. They were sending one of their representatives in to discuss their concerns with the Ruling Cabinet. Just what the hell he needed, another damned liability walking into Sanctuary.
The woman they were sending wasn't even a major force within the far-flung holdings Vanderale owned. She was a damned paper pusher. A buttoned-down little prude that made him shudder at the thought of the funds that were likely to be cut off. Not that Sanctuary couldn't survive without them, but hell, it would bite to lose their support within the international community.
He also needed to meet with Ely to see if any of the readings coming from the implant beneath Harmony's scalp meant anything. The cryptic message they had received three months ago with the frequency for the GPS locator she possessed had saved her and Lance's lives. Ely reported her suspicions a month later that the feedback from the implant appeared to hold more information than just her location.
As he ran through the list of tasks ahead of him in the coming week, prioritized and filed them, he moved from Jess's home. He was aware of the team of Breed bodyguards that met him outside and the limo waiting on him. His eyes scanned the area, his senses automatically picking up the sights and smells of the night, the absence of danger. Which was rare enough.
As he settled back into the limo, he opened the briefcase waiting on him and pulled out the first file. It was time to get back to work. He was getting closer to their spy, and soon he would be closer to the first Leo. He wasn't giving up.