“On Cassie?” She frowned, fear starting to shadow her eyes as she pulled her gown and robe closed. “Why? What does it mean? It’s just a mark. We asked the doctor about it.”
And of course, Martaine would have lied to the doting mother. It was an experiment. A secretly conducted experiment. One Martaine had obviously told no one about except the father. He would have needed Dane’s help. Somehow, he had talked the other man into the dangerous experiment.
“Show it to me.” He gripped her wrist, dragging her from the bed and into the other bedroom, stopping beside the sleeping child.
“Dash, stop, you’ll wake her,” she whispered.
He ignored her, gently lifting the small strap of Cassie’s gown and baring her shoulder. It was there. A dark shadow just under the skin. A genetic marking of the Wolf Breeds. Had she been raised in the labs, she would have been branded, or tattooed, according to the lab in question, to hide the marker. But she hadn’t been. She had been born to a loving mother and a bastard father.
Dash bent close, drawing in the scent of her skin and shaking with the knowledge his brain was finally accepting. It was faint, a bit darker than he remembered. The genetics were obviously recessed much as his were or he would have detected the scent of a Breed sooner. But it was there. She was a Wolf Breed child. But whose?
What had they done? Dash knew Martaine well. He remembered the doctor visiting the labs, checking results, deciding who lived and who died. Dash had been picked to die. He was the runt of the litter and still smaller, weaker, than the other Breeds of that pack. Martaine had been young then, not even in his thirties. A cold, brutal bastard.
Dash was breathing harshly, perspiration dotting his forehead as he fought the rage building inside him. They weren’t containing the experiments to the labs anymore? When had they brought the genetic mix into the general population?
He eased the strap back, glancing at Elizabeth’s tight, furious expression as he stalked from the room.
“God damn them.” He had no sooner cleared his bedroom than he turned, ramming his fist into the wall. Plaster cracked. A solid two by four split. Dash felt it as the sound echoed around him.
He was aware of Elizabeth jumping back as she entered the room, a small cry smothered behind her hand as she stood staring at him, her eyes wide. Dash leaned his head against the wall, rolling it on the cool plaster as he fought to think.
“Was she naked when you took her from Grange?” His voice was a hard, vicious growl.
“No.” Her voice was faint. Thin. “She was wearing her panties. But her nightgown had been ripped off her. Dash, what’s going on?”
Grange would have demanded proof. Dane would have given it to him. Files, of course. He had to have had files of the experiment in case they were needed. And the mark. A mark that could be validated.
“I should have known,” he muttered. Hell, he thought, he had known but had just refused to admit to it. The idea of it had been too extreme, too far-fetched to consider. How the hell had it happened? Martaine must have lost his mind. “God damn. I should have known. No wonder he wanted her.” A short, bitter laugh escaped him. “Hell, sure he wanted her. She was a fucking gold mine.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair as he fought to beat down the fury pulsing through his body. Eliza
beth and Cassie had been through hell. Hunted. A price on their heads. All because Dane Colder had allowed his wife to be impregnated by Breed sperm. How had they managed it? Why had Martaine not informed the Council that he had discovered the secret to breeding the species? He hadn’t, Dash knew. The experiments into the breeding were well documented.
“Dash.” Elizabeth’s voice was filled with fear. “Dash, what’s wrong with her?”
He shook his head desperately. He couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t let her know.
Her voice was faint. “What does that mark mean?”
He looked at her, seeing her white face, her terrified eyes. How he had wanted to protect her. God help him, protect himself. Thinking he could be something to her, build a future and still hide what he was. Still know only her sweet passion and woman’s heart rather than her disgust.
“I have to talk to Mike.”
He had to figure this out. Had to inform Kane Tyler of the changing situation. This would assure Cassie’s acceptance into the compound rather than only the consideration of it. Dash had understood the Pride’s stand and had been praying for a positive response. He hadn’t expected his prayers to be answered in quite this way.
“No. You have to talk to me.” She gripped his arm, her voice echoing with anger, filled with demand. “You talk to me first, damn you. What does that fucking mark mean?”
“Not yet, Elizabeth. I have to talk to Mike.” He couldn’t tell her.
“Like hell you do.” She shook his arm furiously, fear echoing in her voice. “You tell me what’s going on first, damn you. That’s my baby, Dash. Not Mike’s. What the hell is going on?”
Dash closed his eyes, shaking his head roughly as he tore his arm from her grip.
“Go to Cassie. Now,” he snapped. “I have to talk to Mike first.”
He stormed from the room, knowing the lateness of the hour, the fact that Mike was comfortably in bed with his loving wife, likely dreaming dreams of bliss. A short bitter grunt sounded from his chest. Must be fucking nice.
He found his friend’s room and rapped the door with hard knuckles. He heard a grunt, a curse, Serena’s drowsy voice. Seconds later, Mike opened the door, his eyes blurry with sleep.