"You guys are going to fuck with my investigation, rather than just helping me secure the scene, aren't you, Noble." Zane tucked his fingers in the belt of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. "You know that's not going to go over with me. Right?"

"Talk to Jonas about it," he snapped. "My concern is Haley right now, Taggart, and where she's concerned, then your best bet is just staying the hell out of my way."

He turned and carried her to the vehicles pulling into the outer edges of the parking lot. The library was pretty much lost. The books had fed the flames that had whipped through the windows as they burst. It was a wonder she was still alive and relatively un-harmed.

Relatively. He could smell her blood, her pain. He could feel her fear and her disbelief, and it was enraging him.

Clamping a firm hold on his control wasn't easy.

As he carried her to the SUVs and slid with her into the backseat of the nearest one, he could feel that rage pumping through him.

Someone had dared to harm her. To attempt to kill her? The attempt was against her; otherwise, the young lion breed, Jason, wouldn't be dead, and her beautiful truck she so loved wouldn't be a hunk of twisted metal.

"They killed Patricia." Her head lifted from his shoulder as the door closed behind them. Her eyes, that dark ring of blue spreading into the gray, darkening them further.

He saw the pain and tears in her eyes. Noble let his arms tighten around her for long seconds as he watched Jonas stride to the SUV. Beside him, was the taller, broader form of the Leo, barely disguised in a hooded jacket, and his son Dane Vanderale. Evidently, neither of them were content to wait in the heli or at Sanctuary.

Behind them, the sheriff followed more slowly, his rugged face set in a scowl as breeds moved between them. That damned sheriff wasn't going to be content to let this go, he thought, as the others moved into the long seat across from Noble and Haley, and the doors closed behind them.

The combined stares of the three powerful men didn't bother Noble, but evidently, there was something about them that made Haley self-conscious.

Her head lifted, her expression flickering with wariness.

"Someone found out, didn't they?"

Haley stared back at Jonas Wyatt, knowing exactly what had happened. Brackenmore and Engalls had somehow learned that she would be testifying against them during the January hearing.

"We don't know that, Ms. McQuire," Jonas answered carefully, his expression carefully blank.

She moved, forcing herself from Noble's lap and sliding onto the seat beside him.

"She hasn't been seen by a medical professional, Jonas."

The younger of the other two men leaned forward.

She knew him. The vice president of Vanderale Industries and beside him was the president, CEO, major shareholder, and whatever other title anyone had ever found to attach to him. Leo Vanderale.

And she had a feeling she knew why they were there.

She glanced out the front window to where the flames were finally dying down within the library.

"All the books are ruined," she whispered, looking back to the elder Vanderale. "You were so kind, Mr.

Vanderale, to help donate all those lovely books." Her breathing hitched. "I'm very sorry."

His head tilted just slightly, his amber eyes staring back at her curiously. "Why would you apologize to me, Miss McQuire?" he asked her.

She sniffed back her tears, aware of Noble brushing back the side of her hair to examine the gash she could feel against her temple.

"Because it was my fault. Someone killed Patricia and destroyed the library because of me."

"Ridiculous," Dane Vanderale snapped, a frown veeing his brows.

"My dear, the choices others make because of your kindness is not your responsibility." Leo sighed. "And Dane is right, you need to be attended to. You're bleeding, my dear." He turned to Jonas. "Have her taken to Sanctuary."

"That's not possible." Jonas shook his head sharply.

"And why would this be?" Leo's tone was dangerously smooth.

"Leo, you know exactly why." Jonas bit out. "Let's not air our disagreements in front of Ms. McQuire and see what we can do to help her out here."

There was a tension brewing in the vehicle now, wrapping around her, tightening her nerves to breaking point.

"She's obviously in danger because of her courage in coming to you about what she saw and heard," Leo pointed out imperiously. "She should be taken to Sanctuary."

"No one is asking me," Haley pointed out, watching as the two Vanderale men glared back at Jonas.

"I don't think they believe you should have an opinion." Dane leaned back in his seat with a grin.

Haley ignored him, glancing to Noble instead as he spoke into the mic that curved around his tough, angled cheek bone.

"We need to get her to a secured site, one way or the other," Noble growled. "She's bleeding, Jonas, and she's scared out of her damned mind. Sitting here glaring at her isn't helping the situation."

"And you think taking her to Sanctuary will?"

"No," Noble snapped. "Her home will be easier to control. I want a team under my command, men I choose. I want the area declared off-limits to any other breeds, and I want full security protocols placed around it."

Jonas stared back at him blandly. "Those are a lot of wants for an enforcer," he said softly. "A low-ranking one at that, Noble. You've barely been within the hierarchy a year now."

"And I was invited in," Noble reminded him. "I didn't apply."

Haley blinked as Jonas grunted. She felt light-headed, uncertain. She lifted her hand to her temple, where the pain seemed worse, and touched dampness.

Drawing it back, she saw her own blood.

"Choose your team," Jonas suddenly stated. "We'll cover you until they get there." He pulled the mic wand to his cheek. "Lawe, Rule, pull everyone to Haley McQuire's home. I need a medical attendant and the sheriff to follow."

Immediately, three of the breeds standing outside were sliding into the front of the SUV limo. The engine started, and the vehicle was pulling out as the snow began to fall faster.

Haley stared at her bloodstained fingers before lifting her eyes to Noble. "I'm bleeding," she whispered.

"Not bad." He laid a folded gauze pad that Dane handed him from a first-aid box he had acquired from beneath one of the seats over the wound. "Everything's okay, Haley."

"It's not okay," she whispered, staring into his dark eyes, his savage face. "Everything's not okay anymore, Noble."

Chapter 3

Haley's little brick house was strung with multicolored Christmas lights outside. In the front yard sat two wire deer covered in white lights. The two conical evergreen trees at each side of the front of the house were well lit, and there was a large fir wreath on the door.

Inside the large living room, across from the fireplace was a six-foot Christmas tree that glowed with lights reflecting every color in the rainbow. An angel perched at the top, a small light in her folded hands, her wings spread, a serene expression on her face.

The fireplace was laid with fresh logs and ready to light, and four stockings dangled, two on each corner of the mantel.

A television screen hung on one wall, a coffee table between it and the couch, and two chairs sat to the side.

It was a large, simple room. It led into a large kitchen and a smaller dining room. There were two bedrooms down a short hall, each with an attached bath, and a cramped attic above.

The house seemed to reflect her. Gently wel-coming, a sense of restrained excitement filling it with all the Christmas decorations. As though someone here truly believed in the Santa nonsense.

Noble stood in the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes narrowed as a female breed, Shiloh Gage, checked Haley's injuries where she sat in the living room.

Shiloh was the closest thing they had to a medic outside Sanctuary's labs. But with Dr. Morrey still recovering from the attempt to destroy her with the drugs Brackenmore and Engalls had tried to develop, that left only the council scientist, Amburg, whom Jonas had kidnapped months before, to treat injuries.

And Noble knew he would rip Amburg's throat out before he allowed that bastard to touch Haley.

"I think I'm okay." Haley had her head turned as Shiloh treated the narrow gash at her temple.

The once-white blouse Haley had worn was torn and stained with blood. There were scratches on her arm, one of which looked deep. Her hands were red, almost blistered. The dark pants she wore were in the same condition as the blouse. Her bright red hair was mussed around her face, singed in places and darkened with her blood.

"You're fine." Shiloh patted her knee kindly, her round face filled with sympathy as she lifted a piece of gauze and taped it to Haley's temple. "You'll be good as new in a few days."

Shiloh pulled the surgical gloves from her hands and dropped them into the small waste can that sat beside her. Rising, she adjusted her black uniform pants and turned back to Noble.

Dressed in the enforcer uniform, her dark auburn hair secured in a French braid, Shiloh looked more like a playful teenager than a full-grown, fully trained breed enforcer.

"I need to clean up." Haley came to her feet, and Noble barely caught himself before jumping for her.

She swayed a bit, and he had to force himself to remain in place as she moved to the hallway.

"You should rest a bit more, Haley," Shiloh warned her, following her.

Haley held up one hand, waving her back. "No. I have to clean up, Shiloh. Just . . . Just let me clean up."

Her voice was stronger than it had been earlier.

The shock was wearing off. He could see the anger flickering in her gaze even before Shiloh had finished.

When the enforcer looked back at him, he nodded toward Haley, indicating that she should follow and cover her until Jonas, Leo, and Dane were finished with the meeting in the kitchen. Noble then joined the others in the kitchen.

The sheriff wasn't exactly pleased with the information he was getting. He didn't like being excluded from the investigation, and if Noble could read the man, and he liked to think he could, then he was guessing Zane Taggart wasn't going to be as easy to control as Jonas was hoping.