Surprise flickered in Dane's gaze before he turned back, just as Jonas felt it emanating from Chimera and Lawe.
He had been attempting the capture of Brandenmore and his cohorts for years now, before they had ever been aware who, or what, was stealing information from Sanctuary or why. For the past year, nothing had mattered but capturing the bastard, alive, in the act of attempting to steal the information he wanted.
They needed him alive. They needed the chance, the opportunity, as well as the reason to place him under Breed Law during interrogation.
The interrogation mattered little in the face of the child's life.
His child.
God, how he wished that child was his rather than another's. How he wished he had been the one to sire the babe, to hold Rachel, to bring her pleasure.
If the world were a different place, if he were a different man. If there wasn't more risk in taking what was his than there was to maintaining a distance from it.
"We're moving in," Dane stated quietly.
"Jonas, please." Rachel's voice was ragged, her fingers gripping his arm, nails biting into the black sleeves of the black combat uniform he wore. "Please, Jonas, don't let them hurt Amber. Please."
Amber. The babe. His soul ripped apart at the thought of that child in danger.
"Stay in the vehicle, Rachel." He glanced at Chimera once again and received a quick nod in reply.
Rachel's life was in her hands. Her only responsibility was the protection of his mate.
The SUV drew to a stop, and Jonas let the animal free where he normally kept it leashed.
To every Breed there were two sides, alternate parts of their psyche that often worked together. But in certain instances, one became more dominant than the other.
The Lion that raged inside him now demanded dominance. His mate had been attacked, harmed. The child the animal and the man had claimed so many months ago was now in danger.
Not a single man would walk from that house without spilling precious life blood for his part in the bruises that marred his mate's flesh. For his part in the fear that even now, Jonas could scent raging from the child.
Moving into the small yard, he used the shadows that reached out from the houses surrounding it. The block Rachel's home sat on was small, quiet. Families lived and worked here. Children laughed, and parents watched after them.
Sliding in along the window that looked into the living room, Jonas caught a glimpse of Phillip Brandenmore, the owner of Brandenmore Research. The man who was determined to use the Breeds to create a drug that could decrease aging and could be sold for millions per user sat in front of the flat-screen television, a frown on his face as the babe whimpered at his side.
Amber was tired. The animal scented her weariness. She had cried until she had exhausted herself. She was cold and hungry. No one had fed her. No one had changed her. No one had placed a blanket over her fragile body to block the slight chill in the room.
Her mother kept the house warm. The first thing these strangers had done was turn the heat down, taking away the warmth. Then they had stripped her comfort, her security.
The animal inside Jonas sensed Amber's fear, and crouched with predatory intent inside him.
"They have a Coyote with them." Rule spoke through the communications link at Jonas's ear. "He's currently in the kitchen with a pot of coffee. Stupid bastard."
Coyotes could be lazy. They were savage in battle, merciless in a pack, but those that stayed with the council or moved into the less acceptable areas of the world were downright lazy.
"Take him out first," Dane ordered as Jonas eased along the window, checking Brandenmore and the child's position before pulling back.
"I'm going through the window," he told the others. "Brandenmore is alone in the living room."
"Coyote's in the kitchen, we have a sentry on the front porch, we have one in the bedroom upstairs," Rule reported. "They're not expecting trouble."
They hadn't expected anyone at
the office tonight. They had thought they could send Rachel back, force her to do their dirty work, then kill her. And only God knew what they had planned for the child.
"Jonas, he'll use the baby." Dane's voice was matter-of-fact, regretful, but realistic.
"The child is priority," Jonas repeated.