"Shut the fuck up, Rachel," Devon snapped. "She's my kid too. You can have more brats with your lover here. Let me have Amber."
"So you can kill her?" she yelled, staring at him, wondering why she hadn't seen the evil that had infected him while they'd lived together.
"No one's going to kill her. She would be useless dead." Devon laughed in ridicule. "Get a grip. You always overdramatized things to the point of ridiculousness."
"Enough." Jonas's voice was low, a throbbing sound of power that immediately silenced Devon.
"He'll kill you for insulting his mate, my boy." Brandenmore laughed. "He might not love her, she might be a shackle about his ankle, but that animal inside him will protect her with his last breath." He looked at Jonas. "That kid is another matter, isn't it, Mr. Wyatt?"
"So you're suggesting I give you Amber, in exchange for what, exactly?" Jonas asked.
Brandenmore leaned forward again, that fanatic light still gleaming in his eyes. "Well, number one, in exchange for your lives." He smiled. "Secondly though, I will share my research with your scientists. It's my understanding that mating heat is causing no small amount of discomfort, at least according to the medical assistants you caught helping me not long ago. This is a win-win situation for you, Jonas."
A win-win situation? Who lost? Definitely she would lose, her child, the most precious treasure in her life. Amber would lose her life, if not in the first weeks of this so-called research, then in the years following.
Rachel stared at Brandenmore, then at Devon.
"That's your daughter," she whispered, wondering how she could ever face the questions Amber would eventually have about her father now. "How could you do this, Devon?"
He finished his drink off quickly before sneering back at her. "I told you to abort the brat, Rachel. You didn't do it. Phillip can at least use her efficiently."
Rachel flinched. Jonas growled, low and dangerous, as Phillip Brandenmore stared back at Jonas in surprise, as though he recognized the inherent danger in the sound.
"Mr. Wyatt," Brandenmore said carefully, "you want to consider this. We both know the child means nothing to you, but your mate does. You'll call Sanctuary and have the child flown to a location I'll give you. Once I have her, you'll be released."
Rachel heard the low hum of laser weapons powering up behind her.
She was shaking her head. Tears were rolling down her cheeks; she was trembling from the inside out, until that moment.
"No," she whispered. "I won't let you . . ."
"But it's not your choice," Brandenmore informed her. "It's your mate's. And tell me, Ms. Broen, what do you think that animal inside him is demanding that he do? He wants rid of that kid because it's not his. She isn't his blood, or his species; therefore, she is a hindrance to his Pride, a threat to his leadership and the future leadership of his rightful children."
"This isn't the Middle Ages," she exclaimed.
"Shut the fuck up, you stupid little bitch." Devon's glass flew across the room and shattered on the wall as everyone stared back at him. "You will give him that little brat or I'll have her killed. Take your pick."
"No, you won't," Jonas growled, the hard, dangerous rumble of his voice filling the silence with a bone-chilling wave of vicious intent.
"Of course he won't." Brandenmore was definitely aware of the murderous undercurrents filling the room now. "Jonas, Amber won't be harmed. I swear it. You won't lose in this, and your mate can't hate you. The only way to save her is to trade the kid for her. That simple."
Jonas breathed in slowly, subtly, careful to make certain no one was aware of the scents he was drawing in. There were Breeds outside, more than one. Four of them were from Ghost Team. He'd seen the glow of Jag's green eyes minutes before in the window behind Devon's head.
There were others. Lawe was out there, Rule, Mercury and, strangely enough, Jonas could smell Leo and Dane Vanderale. Not that Dane had much of a scent to him; it was always carefully disguised. But there was the barest familial scent, which Jonas could never have mistaken.
He'd waited, restrained the animal clawing at his insides with brutal, bruising strength to be free. He'd held on to his control, fought the rage, until the others were in place.
The smell of Brandenmore's lies mingled with those of the Breeds. He was a monster. Jonas had no idea what he had planned for Amber, but it wasn't the existence he had described. Amber would know nothing but pain. If reports were correct concerning the rumors of some of the experiments conducted by the man over the years, she would be lucky to live weeks, let alone into adulthood.
"I'll even pacify your mate as best I can." Brandenmore was smiling, his beady eyes filled with malice cloaked by sincerity.
The man should have been an actor. He would have won an Oscar.
"I'll send photos, keep her updated on the kid's progress. Maybe even phone calls for a while." He smiled benevolently toward R
achel.
Horror was pouring from her. Tears stained her pale cheeks; rage ate at her. She was in control. She had, like Jonas, managed to restrain the need to kill.