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"What was wrong with meeting at the house?" Braden was too close. He stayed on her ass, hovering
over her like a dark shadow.
"The printout is being investigated," Lance snapped. "I will find out who accessed and printed it. It's
just a matter of time."
"What's taking so long?" She shook her head in confusion. "The computers automatically log those
passwords."
The voice that answered sent chills racing over Megan's flesh. "The password used was Sheriff
Jacobs's."
Lance stared at her. She could feel the pain radiating from him, but also the protectiveness. Lance
would never hurt her. She knew that just as she knew the sun would rise in the morning and night
would come later.
"We have a problem then." She turned and looked at Jonas. She was seriously starting to dislike this
one. "Someone has obviously managed to steal passwords."
"The sheriff assures us he doesn't write his password down or share it. He changes it weekly and uses
strict privacy protocols on his computer."
Megan watched Jonas for long moments. Lance was still, quiet. And that wasn't a good sign. An
explosion was brewing and it was one Megan didn't want to witness.
"Tell him to stop, Braden." She stared into the savage silver eyes as she spoke to the man behind her.
"Now."
"I'd like to hear an explanation myself, Megan."
She turned to Braden carefully. "I said now," she reminded him, keeping her voice soft, her fury
throttled.
She didn't know the game Jonas Wyatt was playing, but she knew he was playing one, and he was
using Lance to do it.
"I don't need your protection, Megan," Lance snapped then. "I'll find out"
"If you're still in this office." Jonas's voice was condescending. "Such mistakes are not just criminal,
they are also incriminating, Sheriff Jacobs."
"You son of a bitch" Lance was out of his chair and halfway around the desk before Megan could step
in front of him, placing her hand on his chest. But she jerked it back quickly. She stared down at her
hand, feeling the sharp sensation of distaste at the touch before staring back up at Lance. "Fuck 'im."
She kept her voice soft as she let a small smile assure him of her trust. "We both know better, Lance.
And I know you'll find the proof. Don't let him get to you."
"Dammit, Meg" He reached out, his hands gripping her shoulders, sending pulses of a painlike
sensation that attacked her nerve endings.
She flinched back a second before Braden's surprising snarl filled the room and he pulled her away
from her cousin.
"What the hell? Lance stared at her in shock. 'Meg, are you okay?"
He reached for her again, only to have Braden pull her quickly behind him, ignoring her struggles as
he did so.
"Dammit, Braden"
"What the fuck is going on? Lance s voice was filled with confusion. Anger. "Is she hurt?"
Megan forced her way back in front of Braden, her elbow stabbing into his hard stomach as he tried to
stop her.
"Don't push me back behind you again." She stared up at him furiously.
"When I need you standing in front of me, I'll let you know."
The rumbled growl that came from his chest might have intimidated someone less pissed off, Megan
thought. But it did little to impress her.
Jonas shifted impatiently, drawing her gaze back to him.
"He won't allow another male to touch you, Miss Fields," Jonas snapped furiously. "Test him and you
might get more than you've bargained for."
"I didn't ask you." She turned on him, enraged, aware of Lance watching her in surprise. "So you can
just shut the hell up."
"You didn't have to ask." His tight smile was cold and dangerous. "I was being nice by offering the
information."
"Jonas, you're not exactly making sense," Braden pointed out, his voice not as lazy as before, but no
less confused than Lance's had been. "And accusing Jacobs of betraying his cousin wasn't your
brightest move." There was a question in his voice as he obviously chose to ignore the earlier
statement regarding his possessiveness toward her.
"The evidence is there," Jonas pointed out. "The schedule comes from this office alone, no one else
should have had access to it. The information we've managed to extract from the Coyote you captured
indicates someone working from the inside. Jacobs is on the inside."
Lance's fists bunched, his expression contorting into lines of fury as he turned on the Breed. " I've had
my fill of your accusations Jonas."
Megan struggled to fend off the whiplash of emotions slamming into her. She moved closer to Braden
and threw up every shield she could force in front of them, but nothing helped. Lance's anger was
whitehot, his voice pain-filled, edging into violence as Jonas's silver eyes darkened dangerously. She
shook her head, staring at him, fighting the stirring cauldron of sensations as the swirled around her.
She couldn't run. She couldn't escape the emotions.
"I've had my fill of your incompetence," Jonas sneered. "Tell me, Jacobs. Are you the one who
directed Mark and Aimee into that desert? Did you play liaison to the Genetics Council and their
Coyotes?" His anger was like wildfire, engulfing everything in its path.
"Like hell." Lance moved for the other man, his muscles bunching as Megan felt the whip of another
emotion. Deceit. A lie. A carefully constructed game.
"No. Lance, he's playing you." She jumped in front of him again. "Don't give him the satisfaction of a
fight."
"Playing what?" he snapped, attempting to pull away from her. "I'll be damned if I let him stand in my
office and accuse me of trying to kill you, Megan."
"Stop." She shook his arm, ignoring the discomfort, staring back at him fiercely. "Listen to me." Her
fingers tightened despite the building fire beneath her skin, the harsh reaction to touching someone
else that made no sense. "He's playing with you, Lance, He knows you didn't do a damned thing. This
is no more than a game."
She barely realized she was shuddering. She could feel Lance's rage beating within him, beating
within her, demanding action. She couldn't let him fight; wouldn't let him fight. It was all a game,
carefully constructed, for what reason she wasn't certain.
"Megan, let him go." Braden seemed to tower over her, his hand covering hers. His touch was cool,
comforting where the touch of Lance's flesh filled her with pain. "He's hurting you. I can feel the pain
pouring from you. Let him go."
She was shaking, fighting the sensations, staring up at the cousin who had been one of the mainstays in
her life for as long as she could remember. The pain made no sense; the sharp discomfort in her hands
streaked through the rest of her body, cramping her muscles, searing her skin.
"Hurting her? Lance s frown was bewildered. "Meg, what the hell is going on?"
Lance moved back, pulling his arm gently from her grip as he retreated, his concern washing over her
as some dark sizzle of satisfaction speared through the room. She turned slowly to Jonas Wyatt.
"I don't like you," she informed him, gritting her teeth in anger. "You are a sick son of a bitch." He
knew. She could feel it. He was aware of her abilities, testing them, pushing them all. His lips curved
sardonically.
"Perhaps." He tilted his head in acknowledgment of the insult as she stared back at him in confusion.
"Why did you do this?" she asked quietly.
"Because it needed to be done." Jonas arched his brow. "You see, Miss Fields, we have a spy
somewhere in this little setup. If not here in this office, then elsewhere. Possibly both. I'll find out
who it is, one way or the other. Thank you very much for assuring me that in this case I was wrong.
Sheriff Jacobs is innocent."
Her lips parted in shock.
"It's all a game," she whispered. "You knew I was empathic. You used me to try to trap my cousin,"
she accused him, the anger growing in her voice as she twisted her head to stare up at Braden. "You
told him." It made sense now. Somehow he had learned of the empathic abilities and turned them
against her by confronting Lance in front of her and then [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]