Kane Tyler was head of Sanctuary's security, and a damned good man for it. But Jonas could feel the edge of premonition pricking at him now. There was going to be trouble, and he had no idea from which direction it was coming. And neither did Cassie.
"Callan and Leo have requested that you come to the main house, along with your mate and child, tonight for dinner." Lawe seemed hesitant to relay that information. "I believe it might have been the Leo's idea."
The Leo. His father.
Jonas rubbed at the back of his neck. They wouldn't have asked just for the hell of it.
"Find out what time," he growled, feeling his tension ratcheting higher now.
Lawe nodded. "By the way, congratulations."
Jonas looked up from the computer and frowned. "For what?"
Rule and Lawe both stared at him as though he were crazy.
"You're mated. Congratulations. We scented the proof of it the minute Rachel opened the door and allowed us in. It's particularly strong . . ." Lawe trailed off as Jonas stared back at him in surprise.
"There has been no mating," he told the other man.
There hadn't been. If there had, Jonas wouldn't be in the physical hell he was in.
Lawe scratched at the side of his cheek. "Well, there's no scent of crazy lust coming from her, I admit." He cleared his throat nervously. "But the mating scent is there, Jonas. There's no missing it."
Unless you were the mate. His own scent was so familiar to him that he wouldn't have detected the mating scent itself on Rachel. That scent was for other males, not for the mate.
Ely was right; he needed to get Rachel to the labs for testing as soon as possible. If he carried the mating out, then the examination would be painful, too painful. Though according to his Enforcers, the mating had already been completed.
Which he knew for a fact wasn't possible.
"Has anyone else been in here?" he asked the two men, wondering how many others would be aware of that scent.
Lawe shook his head. "Just us. We were here when she unlocked the office doors waiting on you."
Jonas rose from his seat, his teeth clenched. He had to get Rachel to the labs for tests, there was no other way around it. But in doing so, he was opening himself up to a vulnerability he wasn't ready for anyone else to know, especially the Vanderales.
If Rachel was indeed displaying the mating scent, then that particular hormone would display variances that would reveal the DNA used in Jonas's creation. Elizabeth Vanderale's DNA. It would also show that his creation was far different than his files stated. He wasn't created to be simply a Pride leader, and commander. He had been created to breed the very animal that Breeds and humans alike feared the species would eventually become.
He couldn't ignore the fact that others knew this information. Scientists that had been at the labs and had escaped Breed justice. There was a slim chance Brandenmore at least suspected he was the Breed scientists still searched for. The one designated as Alpha One.
He was one of a few male Breeds given a unique designation during creation. He was created not to be the ultimate Breed, but to create the ultimate killer.
It was a hell of a legacy, he thought savagely.
"Get Dog in gear and oversee Alpha Team One," he ordered Lawe. "I'll contact Callan to see what time we're needed for dinner. Assign a Breed to Marshal, while you're at it. Make it a female Breed. Someone nonthreatening."
"Ashley," Rule murmured. "She at least appears nonthreatening."
She was a killer in heels. As one of the Coyote Breeds, and exacting of her privacy, there were no tabloid pictures of her, and even less information about her.
"Put her undercover," he ordered Lawe. "A little rich bitch looking for fun. That should be right up Devon Marshal's alley right now. Give her backup. Her sister Emma should work."
As a team, Ashley and Emma were hell on wheels.
"I was going to suggest both of them." Lawe nodded. "We'll have an update for you on Dog as soon as we speak with him, and I'll let you know when Ashley and Emma head out."
Jonas nodded shortly, waited, then blew out a hard breath as the door closed behind the two men.
Fuck! He jerked from his chair, his hand clamped to the back of his neck as he paced across the room. This was the last f**king thing he needed. A mating that wasn't a mating. Unknown hormones in his se**n, and a variety of protests and actions being filed against him, the Bureau and Sanctuary at a time when he didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.
To add to those particularly irritating problems was the nearly mindless lust tearing at his mind and tearing at his control. The past months had been hell, and it was now multiplying daily to the point that he hadn't even recognized Brandenmore's scent on Marshal's body last night.
How the hell had Phillip Brandenmore managed to get out of the Middle East without Dog's team being aware of it? To fly out, and then back in, and no one being the wiser was a hell of a feat to accomplish. Especially considering the fact that Dog would have been watching for it.
But as the Breeds had been trained, there were few things that were truly impossible.
He truly hoped that getting Rachel in for those tests before a true mating didn't prove to be one of those "impossible" things. If she was displaying the mating scent without a mating, then Ely needed to know why. And she needed to know why now, before any more surprises were thrown at them.
Rachel finished the report logs Jonas was required to submit to the Bureau of Breed Affairs Oversight Committee, a panel of several senators, Breeds and foreign ambassadors. The oversight committee was tasked with keeping an eye on the running of the Bureau, Jonas's actions as Bureau director and the official missions the Breeds participated in for the American and allied countries.
Each day, a report log was filed for the day before and sent to the secretary of the oversight committee. At the end of each month, Jonas met with them for any outstanding questions.
There wasn't a lot of factual information per se that went into the reports. But as Rachel read them, she was always amused at the inventiveness Jonas displayed in twisting many of his more calculated schemes and making them appear perfectly acceptable and logical.
The man had to have the DNA of an Irishman well versed in kissing more than one Blarney Stone.
Her head turned as his office door opened. That familiar little catch of her breath was stronger now. The memory of the night spent in his arms, her body humming with pleasure, caught at her senses, whipped across her flesh with ghostly fingers of sensation and had a smile tugging at her lips.