She couldn't scream aloud, it would draw notice. Notice that her tears and ragged sobs wouldn't draw, weren't drawing as she slid her unassuming little Civic into the deserted parking lot of the Bureau of Breed Affairs.
The night guard on duty at the gate had taken her pass without much notice. He knew her car, had seen enough of her to know who she was. It wasn't unusual for her to leave late, or to arrive early if she was commanded to do so by the autocratic Bureau director, Jonas Wyatt.
The guard had easily accepted her hasty excuse that she'd forgotten to update his memos and his morning schedule, and that it had to be done tonight.
He hadn't noticed her torn blouse or the jacket she wore that covered it. He hadn't seen the bruise she could feel spreading across the right side of her face, or the swollen condition of her right eye.
The blow had been carefully delivered.
Jumping from the car, she felt the rough asphalt bite into her bare feet as she stumbled before racing to the door. It took two attempts to get her electronic card pass to activate the doors and release the locks.
A thin sob tore from her chest as she nearly fell through the door and ran for the stairs that led to the third floor and the private offices of the director, Jonas Wyatt.
Jonas. The manipulating, calculating bastard. This was his fault. He'd played too many games. He'd pushed the wrong people and had so erroneously believed they would come after him.
She tripped, her knee slamming into a step, the skin breaking as a ragged scream of rage and pain tore from her lips.
She was paying for it.
Oh God. She was paying for it. She was paying for her stubbornness, her determination . . . No, she wasn't paying for it. The bruises, the agony tearing through her leg, the ragged pain in her side from the fist she had taken earlier, the bruises on her face, they were nothing. She would suffer that pain a thousand times over. She would suffer the fires of hell if only her child was safe.
Jonas. He was here.
A strangled scream tore from her lips as she fought to breathe, to race up the second flight of stairs. One more flight. Dear God, she was almost there.
Jonas was here. She knew he was. He had warned her that evening not to come to work tomorrow. He had known his enemies were tracking him. He'd known, the son of a bitch, he'd known and just as she'd warned him months ago, when they struck, it wouldn't be him they went after.
She had never believed they would come after her child.
"Jonas!" She tried to scream out his name as she fumbled with the electronic key at the door to the main offices.
Sliding it again, again, and still it wouldn't work.
"Jonas, please . . ." she screamed out again, terrified he would ignore her, knowing he had to hear her.
He was a Breed.
The lock released, the heavy steel door flew open, nearly pitching her to the floor as the door to Jonas's office jerked open across the room.
He was there, and he wasn't alone. She barely saw the others though. She saw his face, hated and yet adored. His eyes, alive in his bronzed face, swirls of silver mercury as he jumped to her, barely catching her before she fell to the floor.
"You bastard!" An openhanded slap to his shocked face as sobs tore from her, tears making her vision cloudy as terror choked her, ripping the breath from her body. "I warned you! I warned you they wouldn't strike you!"
"Rachel!" A horrible rumble of sound in fury, a muted roar left his lips as he gripped her arms, his fingers tight around her flesh as he gave her a firm shake.
"They have Amber!"
The strength left her legs, her body. Collapsing against his chest, she clawed at his arms, desperate for the strength she knew he possessed, fighting for sanity in a world that had suddenly exploded around her.
"They want those files. They'll kill her." Wild, terrified, she knew he would never do it. She knew he would never save her baby. "Please, Jonas. Give me the files. Save my baby. Oh God, save my baby."
Jonas felt the life leave his body. For the first time in his life, Jonas Wyatt felt pure, unadulterated terror washing through him.
His unflappable, cool paragon of a secretary, the mate he refused to claim, stared up at him with tear-drenched dark green eyes, her pale face so horribly bruised.
The scent of her terror and her injuries were an affront to his senses, the knowledge that the child he had claimed as his own so many months ago was in the line of fire, had the animal inside him screaming in rage.
"Chimera." His head jerked to the side as the Jaguar female stepped from her position in the office behind him, moving past the three men that were quickly pulling weapons from a once-hidden vault and strapping them on. "Take her."
He pushed Rachel to the female Enforcer, seeing in the other woman's clear, predatory gaze the need to fight rather than stand back.
"No! Jonas, no!" Rachel clutched at him, ripping his heart from his chest as the agonizing fury in her voice tore through his mind.
A scream of rage tore through his head, only years of patience, of strength, years of conditioning held back the instinctive response as his mate fought to be strong, fought to hold on to her sanity in the face of the danger her child now faced.
"Rachel, listen to me." He shook her again, gently, staring into her beautiful dark green, velvet eyes. "I'll get Amber. I swear to you."
Panic filled her eyes. He hadn't believed her face could become whiter, but it did. The scent of her terror tore through him like a ragged blade as her sobs ripped through his soul.
"They'll kill her," she tried to scream, but the hoarse desperation in her voice came out as a ragged plea. "I don't have time." She jerked at the hold he had on her. "Give me the files. Please. Oh God, please Jonas."
"Jonas, we have to move." Dane Vanderale, the son and heir of the Leo, the strongest Lion Breed ever created, moved to his side. "We have a location. Brandenmore's limo is parked at her house. I have a unit heading there now."
"Back off." Jonas jerked around, snarling at the man whom genetics tied him to as a brother, as the other man made plans--not to save Amber, but to take the enemy instead. "Call your team back. Too many will be dangerous." He turned to the men he knew he could trust. "Rule, have the Blazer brought around." The specially modified city SUV would hold the team, as well as weapons. "Lawe, Mordecai, go ahead, recon only."
The men moved out as Dane cursed behind him.