Megan's Mark Page 5


"Really?' she drawled in mocking amusement. "That's interesting. So, does this mysterious want of mine include a gun?" Evidently that was one argument she hadn't managed to win against her cousin. She hated the police-issue Wounder and had been harassing him to requisition a more powerful gun for her.


"Use one of your own," Lance harrumphed rudely. "You have enough of them, and since you're no longer on official duty, I can't stop you. Or use one of his. You seem to have done fine with it yesterday."


Megan cast Braden a look from the comer of her eye.


Braden gave her a smug, satisfied smile as her gaze moved fully to his. Finally, she turned back to her cousin rather than voicing the mocking retort he sensed lay on the tip of her very pretty tongue.


"Are you going to tell me what it is I'm getting? I have a lot of wants, you know. Or are you going to let Mr. Arness do your talking for you?"


Spicy. That's what she was. Just spicy as hell. He loved it.


He lifted his foot from his knee and set it slowly back on the floor before straightening in his chair. He never took his eyes off her, staring back at her intently, loving how she met his gaze and hid the nervousness he could feel growing inside her.


Sometimes the animal DNA he possessed came in damned handy. The natural empathic abilities easily picked up the emotions of those around him, filtered them and came across without the emotional impact on his own psyche that a normal person would experience. He knew what she was feeling, but he didn't feel it himself.


He growled, a deliberate, rough vibration that rumbled dangerously from his chest as he lowered his eyelids and let his gaze rake over her.


Heat flushed her face and he'd be damned if the soft, spicy-sweet smell of her sex didn't have him ready to jump her then and there. He wondered if she had glimpsed his hard-on. It would be damn hard to miss if her gaze slid down just an inch farther.


"Menace," she muttered, clearly not intimidated as she turned back to Lance. "Why is he here again?


You haven't explained that one yet, Lance."


"Making my life hell," Lance grumbled as he flicked him an irritated glare.


Braden tilted his head in mocking acknowledgment.


"Fine, he can make your life hell and I can leave." Megan moved to rise from the chair.


"Sit down, Meg." Her cousin sighed then. "This involves you, too. Too much. Braden, as you know, is a Feline Breed. Lion, to be exact. His assignment here is a bit complicated."


"And involves me how?"


Before Lance could speak, Braden broke in.


"In the fact that the Breeds you found dead in that gully were here looking for you. As were the Coyotes. Would you like to explain that?'He tilted his head, watching her closely, sensing her confusion.


"Me?" She shook her head, staring back at him, perplexed.


"Why would they be looking for me?"


"I was hoping you could answer that one."


"Lance, what's going on here?" she asked. A subtle scent almost of fear reached out to him, made him want to shield her, protect her.


"Our interrogation of the Coyote you wounded yesterday revealed they were here to kill Mark and Aimee · and you. They were to murder them in your area, where you would be drawn to them_" His choice of words had to be a mistake. "From there, they were to kill you, Megan."


She licked her lips nervously as she shook her head in denial. "But I didn't know them. I've never been in contact with Breeds or any part of the Council. Why target me? Why would they want me dead?"


Megan stared at Braden with the heavy weight of fear in her chest. She couldn't imagine why the Council would want her dead, or why two Breeds would have been searching for her. She hadn't been part of the Breed rescues, nor the investigations that had taken down the various Labs. She had left the Law Enforcement Academy and come straight home to her job within Lance's office.


"I was hoping you could tell me." Braden sat back in his chair then, watching her with eyes that mesmerized and seemed to see too much, too easily.


"I don't know." She shook her head. She was confused. This couldn't have anything to do with her empathic abilities. It had to be something else.


"I'm here to find out why, then." His voice hardened, as did the amber glow of his eyes. "I've been placed with the sheriff's department to learn the reasons why our Breeds are dying here and what the Council wants from you. To do that, certain steps have to be taken."


Why did she have a feeling this was the kicker? She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. And if that wasn't enough, her stomach was rioting with nenres, a sure sign that she was not going to like what was about to come.


"Such as?"


"A Rep." Satisfaction filled his voice. "I am required to live with, and to work with, a representative of the local law enforcement department. One who is aware of what I am, but will tell no one else. Since you are also part of the investigation, it's been decided by the sheriff and the Bureau of Breed Affairs, that you will be that Rep."


Oh, it was decided? As though she had no opinion'? No say in how she was maneuvered?


"Oh, I don't think so." She came out of her seat, instantly rejecting that idea. There was not a chance in hell.


"We have great motels here. Hell, Lance lives alone. Stay with him."


Braden rose slowly to his feet, and she just couldn't help it. She just couldn't help checking out those powerful, long legs encased in faded denim and sitting in dark, scratched leather boots. She jerked her gaze back to his, her face flaming at the knowing smirk on his lips. Not to mention the more than impressive bulge between his thighs.


"Lance isn't an option," he drawled. "You are the reason they are here. They won't stop until they kill you, Megan."


"Bull. Shit," she snarled. "If they wanted to kill me they could have done so at any time. Your Coyote is lying to you, Braden. Have you thought of that?"


"I thought of it." He nodded slowly, that damned smile still in place. "I prefer to err on the side of caution. So, roomie, when do we head home?"


Megan turned slowly to Lance. Her cousin had been watching the argument silently, which wasn't like him. The look on his face wasn't comforting.


"Do something," she snapped.


"I did." He sighed, his look intent, determined. "I approved it."


Like hell.


"Then you can disapprove it." She could feel herself shaking, and knew she was making a mess of this meeting and she couldn't help it. "You can't make me let him live in my home, Lance."


Her response to Braden Arness was too strong, it went too deep. Every cell in her body was tuned to him, and she didn't like it. She didn't want it.


"Megan, sit back down." Lance sighed wearily as he stared up at her, his eyes, nearly the same blue as her own, darkened with worry.


"I don't want to sit down," she explained with mock patience. "And I definitely don't want that fangtoothed Neanderthal as a roommate."


She ignored the little growl, subtle and warning, that came from Braden. Just as she tried to ignore the fires that the sound set in her body.


"Your cousin has a sharp little tongue, Lance." The rumble in Braden's voice was deepening. "She's going to meet someone capable of dulling it, soon."


"That'll be the day," Lance grunted, appearing less than pleased at the subtle warning.


"Lance." Megan leaned forward, bracing her hands on his desk as she met his gaze. "We don't know him. He could be behind all this himself." Of course, she knew better. She could feel it. "How can you trust him far enough to order me to let him stay at my home?"


"Because those Coyotes are trying to kill you, Megan." Lance leaned forward, his voice guttural, filled with anger.


"Because I'll be damned if I'll sit back and watch you walk into a fucking ambush. So get used to it. You can cooperate in this or I'll contact the family and we'll all move in with you. How does that one sound?"


She jerked upright. Contact the family? Her eyes widened at the threat, then narrowed furiously. It wasn't helping that she could tell Braden was enjoying every moment of the confrontation.


"Like hell." She tried to keep her voice reasonable as she cast Braden an accusing stare. She was definitely going to blame him for this.


She hadn't lived with anyone since she had left the Academy. She couldn't handle the emotions that vibrated between the walls from others, the resonation of nightmares, dreams, hopes and fears. And God knew, Braden had to have plenty of nightmares. And that was beside the fact that he made her jittery. Well, maybe jittery was the wrong word. Nervous, uncertain, not comfortable in her own skin. The thought of him was enough to arouse her, and the memory of that little nip to her ear was enough to set flares of sensation racing through her sex.


"Megan, what the hell is wrong with you? She could tell Lance was as confused by her outbursts as she was.


"You know you're not safe."


She flashed him a severe look. He knew what was wrong with her.


"I can't do it," she retorted, reminding him of the problems she had living with others, dealing with their fears, their emotions. "You know I can't."


His expression hardened. "You don't have a choice."


She turned on her heel and stalked to the door, refusing to argue the point further, refusing-period.


"Megan, damrnit, come back here." Lance's anger was like a whip stinging her sensitive mind. She shook her head as she gripped the doorknob, glancing back at the two men disdainfully.


"I don't think so." She smiled coldly. "Find him another bed. I don't have one free," she informed them with a calm she didn't feel before jerking the door open and fleeing the room.


She stomped the short distance to her own office, determined to collect what she needed before heading to the desert. Patrol was mostly boring as hell, but at least there she had a chance to calm her mind, to think logically. She really needed to think logically right now.


As she stepped into her office, without warning, she was pushed against the wall as the door slammed closed and a distinctive, warning growl sounded from the chest her face was currently pressed against.


Struggling didn't help. She tried to kick, to bite, to slap, and each move was countered until she stilled, silent, fighting to ignore an instinctive burning arousal that began flaming in the hungry depths of her pussy.


Son of a bitch. She wanted him. She stared up at him in realization, feeling a flush of pure pleasure racing over her flesh as he held her to him. Had she ever felt this? Ever known such intensity of sensation from so little?


"Finished now?' Braden's voice was calm, infuriatingly amused but tinged with dark hunger.


She refused to answer. He moved back enough to stare down at her. Megan refused to speak. If she did, she might have to do something stupid. Something irrational. Something guaranteed to get her into trouble. And…


He had a hard-on.


Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the thick wedge of flesh pressing against her lower stomach, hot and hard, and if she wasn't mistaken,


more impressive than the bulge she had glimpsed the day before.


"Let. Me. Go." She forced the words from between her clenched teeth as her clit screamed in protest. She wanted to rub against him, feel her nipples raking his chest, and that just made her madder.


"You're not going to win." He held her arms behind her back with one broad hand, refusing to release her as he arched her closer. The other hand gripped her braid to pull her head back.


His eyes were dark gold, staring down at her with a latent sensuality that had her womb spasming and her sex creaming furiously.


Yes, she hated him. She did. She hated him bad.