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“We’re heading to Merinus’ room, Taber. Get up here. They’re on our asses now.” Dawn opened another door and they moved through it as a sudden curse echoed from the open door of Roni and Taber’s room.

Dawn locked

the door with a silent movement and turned back to the room. Merinus and Sherra were waiting, both armed, both watching the darkness from the side of the balcony doors that room held as well.

But Merinus and Callan’s room wasn’t a suite. It was one large bedroom and completely open except for the attached bathroom.

“They’re moving toward us,” Sherra hissed into her own mic as she and Merinus moved into the center of the room. “They know the location of the bedrooms and we’re sitting ducks. Goddammit, Kane, get me some help up here.”

“Taber and Callan are on their way,” Dawn reported as they all moved quickly for the only shelter left to them.

The bathroom was as large as Taber’s, but still, it afforded few places that could be used to stop a bullet. Roni placed herself in front of Merinus instinctively. Dawn and Sherra pressed them back, though, shielding them from anyone who would attempt to come through the doorway. Priorities, Roni thought sadly.

Sherra and Dawn considered themselves expendable in the place of the only two mates to the brothers they had fought beside for so many years. Just as Roni considered herself expendable against the life of the child Merinus carried. And yet, they were all pawns as well, because someone knew the Breeds’

weaknesses and they had found a way to strike.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Taber had promised Roni she would be safe. He had told her to lock the door. Not to leave the room.

No one would get to her. The acrid taste of failure coated his mouth. He had been wrong.

He entered the back of the house at a low crouch, his rifle held ready as he swept through the kitchen then stood aside to allow the other half-dozen men who followed him entrance. His blood pumped with the demand that he rush upstairs, that he blow the bastards to hell and back, but he knew the risk to Roni would only be greater.

Kane’s men were moving on the balconies to trap the bastards. Now Taber and his men would move up the stairs to catch them on this end. Rage burned low in his gut, making it a fight to maintain control and proceed, as he knew he had to.

“We have a breech.” Dawn’s voice was low, steady and calm, but Taber could hear the horror that backed each word. “We’re compromised, Taber.”

Each man had received the same transmission. Silent as the night, as deadly as the animals their DNA mixed with, the men surged up the stairs. They caught the first four outside Callan’s room as they were opening the door. The assassins never knew what hit them.

Taber wrapped his arm around the neck of one and twisted with a sharp, deadly move that resulted in the muted satisfying crunch. The others fell the same way, only to be pushed aside as Taber opened the door slowly.

He went in at a crouch, throttling his roar of triumph as they met the other group of would-be assassins in the middle of the room. Their eyes widened in surprise at the force they met as they turned to make their escape. At the same time, Kane’s men stepped through the balcony entrance.

“Oh look, Callan, they want to play,” Taber drawled as one raised his weapon. It was shot out of his hands before he could pull the trigger.

“Keep the women in there, Sherra.” Callan’s voice was cold, deadly, as he stepped farther into the room and smiled the cold smile of death Taber had rarely seen on his face. “Hello, gentlemen. If you had knocked, we could have conversed civilly,” he stated a bit too mildly. “Your entrance into my home has left much to be desired.”

Taber lowered his weapon as Callan handed his off to him. “Tell me, Taber, what should we do with such rude guests? Make nice, or have a late night snack?” Taber allowed the snarl curling his lips to rumble through his chest. There was no mistaking the wary looks the assassins were now giving them.

“I missed dinner,” Taber said clearly. “How about a snack?” The four men jumped in startled surprise as twelve fully grown Feline Breed males growled in hungry menace.

“Wait.” One of them spoke nervously, holding his hands out, his gun held in a clearly non-threatening manner as he laid it on the floor. “No harm, no foul…”

“No harm, no foul?” Callan asked mildly as he eyed the gun on the floor before raising his head to stare at the man with brooding fury. “Wrong. You broke into my home, attempted to harm my woman, and you think you’re just going to walk out of here?”

“We’re just doing our job.” One shook his head desperately. “Come on, Lyons, you’ve always let us go before.”

Taber recognized the voice. One of the mercenaries who had been sent home in defeat years before, smarting from the lazy, amused chase Callan had given him.

“The rules changed, Brighton,” Callan snapped. “You don’t just walk away anymore.”

“Callan, we question them first.” Kane moved into the room, watching the Breeds warily. “You know the score.”

“I know they’re dead.” It was as though the very air itself stilled with that announcement.

There was no mercy in Callan’s voice, no weakness. “We’ll send them back to their owners in pieces.


Tags: Lora Leigh Breeds Paranormal