“Who trained you?” Diane asked rather than answering the question.
Never trust anyone who answered a question with a question, her father had always warned her.
“No one you know, I’m certain,” Liza sneered back. “Now, what the hell do you want?”
The other woman tilted her head to the side as Liza considered her options if this woman turned out to be the enemy.
Tensing, she prepared for attack.
“Easy, Liza,” Cullen, obviously watching her closely, murmured through the still-in-place link. “Let’s see what she wants.”
Oh, she had every intention of at least giving the other woman a chance to show her hand. Diane Broen was part of the Breed community as well as the Bureau of Breed Affairs now that her sister, Rachel Broen, was married to the director of that Bureau, Jonas Wyatt.
Not that there was much of a chance of kicking Ms. Broen’s ass if she had to, Liza knew. But she might be able to hold her off until help arrived.
Or until she could run.
“I’m no threat to you,” the other woman said with a soft, friendly laugh as Liza straightened, her gaze moving around them quickly as she searched for signs of the Council soldiers she knew would be moving in.
She didn’t have time to stand around and chitchat all morning.
“Then you’ll kindly leave the way you came,” Liza said, desperate to get rid of her. How the hell was she supposed to get the information she needed when there wasn’t a chance the Council soldiers would move in as long as Diane was here.
Diane grinned back at her ruefully. “Sorry, Liza, but we really need to talk. Just for a bit, you understand. We could return to the hotel for the discussion if you like?” She glanced toward the direction of the Navajo Suites. “I promise it won’t take long.”
Liza’s gaze jerked over Diane’s shoulder.
For precious seconds she had to fight the panic threatening to tear through her and overtake her at the sight of figures moving in behind the other woman.
She’d been a part of the Navajo’s Breed Underground Network for over a year now, and she had never been as frightened as she was now.
A moment of static at her ear confirmed for her that Cullen and Reever were still there. “Bureau Breeds are moving in fast behind them. We have you covered,” Cullen assured her, but she heard the concern in his tone. “See if you can get the bastards talking. If you can’t, just be sure to hit the ground when I give the order.”
“He’s harmless,” Diane stated as Cullen’s soft voice faded away.
He?
Oh, what was coming in behind the other woman was far from harmless.
Swallowing tightly, Liza stared back at the other woman. “We have to get out of here.”
“Thor’s not going to hurt you.” Exasperation and impatience filled Diane’s voice as well as her expression, as though she were dealing with a nervous debutante or nearly hysterical woman.
“Honey, I’ve seen that hot-assed Thor of yours, and he makes one. Not four,” Liza assured her.
Diane swung around, her hand whipping to her back, where her weapon was holstered. She merely gripped it as though needing the reassurance that it was there.
Adrenaline flowed like a river racing through Liza’s bloodstream as she and Diane now faced four Coyote Breeds, their gazes amused, weapons held at the ready.
And if Liza wasn’t mistaken, she and the Bureau of Breed Affairs agent were now in a hell of a lot of trouble, because they didn’t look like the good guys.
Neither did what appeared to be a human male who stepped from the shadows of a heavy oak several feet from the other woman. He didn’t seem the least bit friendly either.
Liza recognized him. She’d seen him jogging past the house several times. Hell, he’d even stopped to talk to her when Cullen had accompanied her to the grocery store in the past few weeks.
John Malcolm, he’d called himself, yet she and Cullen both had been certain it wasn’t his real name, despite the fact that the background check Reever had run on him—and the tags of his vehicle—had checked out.
Now she knew why she hadn’t been comfortable during those brief meetings. It hadn’t been his flirting or his blatant sexual interest in her. It was because he was the enemy.