Mercury's War

CHAPTER 9

They took his uniform. Mercury sat silently, his gaze focused on the magazine, though he had no idea what it said.

He felt odd in the civilian clothes he rarely wore. They were comfortable enough, but they weren’t the clothes specially designed to conform to his body.

And his weapon.

He almost growled again. They had confiscated his weapon. The enforcers sent after it had been polite enough, but the feral rage that had nearly consumed him had ensured that the weapon would never be used again. It lay in so many pieces in the barracks now that it was fit for nothing more than the garbage.

He should have left. Hell, he’d even considered it. Packing his stuff then and there, because he didn’t have much, and just riding out. He’d had enough job offers over the years; supporting himself outside Sanctuary wouldn’t be a problem. But Ria wasn’t anywhere else in the world. She was here, and she was his responsibility.

His hunger.

He shifted in his chair, still not as used to the jeans as he was to the uniform, and restrained the anger still burning inside him.

Damn Ely. What the hell was she trying to do to him? The betrayal stuck in his throat until he couldn’t figure out how to displace it. He had considered her a friend, and perhaps that had been his mistake. Making friends hadn’t been easy, even here in Sanctuary. He reminded the other Breeds too much of where they came from, and most non-Breeds stared at him in fascinated fear, frightened to come too close.

Too often he had felt as though he were on the outside looking in, searching for a warmth that didn’t exist and that he didn’t know how to name. A place to exist perhaps.

He stared at his hands where he gripped the magazine. At the claws his nails invariably grew into. They were thicker than most, with the slightest curve. Keeping them trimmed and honed to a nonlethal appearance was an exacting job. If left alone, they could become claws in the truest sense.

He almost flexed them, almost remembered the feel of how easily those nails and the denser, harder strength of his bones had allowed his hand to punch into a Coyote Breed’s chest and rip out his heart.

It hadn’t been a job. It had been so easy. The rage that had spurred him sometimes caused him to cringe when he thought of it. And now, sitting across from Ria, feeling the wildness that had once been so much a part of him stretching inside him, he felt a moment’s concern.

Once, too long ago, he had been a man comfortable with the creature he was. The animal and the human coexisted, if not in harmony, in a state of truce. Now the animal was gone, but the wildness was building. He could feel it building, stretching out, its attention focused on the woman sitting so silently across the room.

She wasn’t concentrating on those files any more than he was concentrating on the magazine. The tension building between them was thick, heated.

“Are you frightened of me now?” He flipped the page of the magazine as he spoke, pretending to read. Knowing he wasn’t and that he wouldn’t be.

“Do I have a reason to be frightened of you now?” She turned one of the papers she was likely not reading before checking it against something she had pulled up on the computer.

He looked at his hands again, wondering if they could actually harm something so fragile, so sweet as the woman sitting across from him.

“And if I told you I didn’t know?” He looked up from the magazine, meeting her gaze as her head lifted in surprise.

“Then I would say you’re allowing your good doctor to mess with your head a bit much, wouldn’t you?” That little hint of an accent intrigued him more than it should have and made him harder than he had ever been in his life.

Jeans confined his erection. The mission uniform had allowed it room for comfort, even if it didn’t hide it. Of course, he’d never had a problem controlling the surge of lust that engorged his cock and tightened his balls. Until Ria. From the moment he had first drawn her scent into him, he had known she would be a problem to his hard-won sense of control.

He shifted in his chair, hoping to relieve the pressure.

“Why did they take your uniform?” She lowered her head once again, asking the question as though it wasn’t a concern between of the two of them.

“I’m a risk to the community now.” He shrugged. “If I rip someone’s heart from their chest, then they don’t want me doing it while wearing an insignia of the Breed community.” His lips twisted mockingly.

“And this is something you do on a daily basis? Rip out hearts?” Her lips almost twitched, and he could have sworn he sensed amusement in the movement.

“I usually wait for permission to do that,” he told her laconically. “We were taught a few manners in those labs. My trainer always felt it polite to make certain I was ripping out the right heart.”

“Very interesting.” She nodded. “But you’re speaking to me, and distracting me.”

He was going to distract her. He looked at the camera, wondering how long it was going to take the techs in the control room to convince someone to remove that sweater.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be much longer. There wasn’t enough time to give in to the arousal building inside him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait to taste her.

She was all buttoned up; the sleeveless top she wore wasn’t as bulky as the clothes she normally worked in, and the soft creamy color was incredibly flattering to the breasts beneath it.

She was wearing another of those damned skirts too. Black this time with a little flare at the knees. A tulip skirt Cassie had once called it when she was trying to convince her mother to buy one. Though that one had been much shorter. For some reason Cassie Sinclair thought Mercury made the perfect escort for their shopping trips.

He had to admit, the longer length on Ria was sexy as hell. The more skin she hid, the more he found himself wanting to see.

The last thing he needed right now was to have an enforcer, or Ely, come into the room while he had her bent over a table again.

He pulled at the shoulder of the T-shirt he wore. Damn, he missed his uniform. And maybe he even missed the sense of acceptance that uniform had given him. A place to belong, no matter how slight.

He didn’t frown, he didn’t allow his expression to shift, but the betrayal he could feel inside him fucking ached to the center of his bones. He’d never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. He always controlled his strength, he always controlled his actions, because he knew his appearance was less than comfortable to everyone around him.

He frightened his fellow Breeds, with the exception of a very few. He frightened the humans that came in contact with him, and he was very much aware his missions were most always those that involved a limited presence among the non-Breeds.

As the tabloids reported each time their journalists caught sight of him, he was the vision that followed children and adults alike into their nightmares.

“The bogeyman” one newspaper had titled him.

He stared at the magazine and felt a somber realization fill him. He had told himself he fit in here, at Sanctuary, but he’d been wrong. He’d only fit in as long as he followed the silent parameters he’d sensed had been placed around him.

He was as trapped here as he had been in the labs, and he hadn’t even realized it.

On the heels of that realization, the doorknob to the office clicked, and when the lock refused to allow entrance, a hard knock sounded on the panel.

Ria lifted her head and stared at him.

“I would be very disappointed were I to see blood,” she informed him. “Even the slightest amount has the power to make me ill.”

A grin tugged at his lips as he laid the magazine aside, stood to his feet and unlocked the door, before stepping back to cover Ria.

Everything inside him rose to full alert; nothing mattered but shielding her.

The door pushed open forcefully, bouncing against the wall to the side before settling in place, fully opened.

Mercury stared at the Breed who had his weapon lifted, poised for battle, and felt that sense of anger fill him. He had fought alongside this Breed many times, and yet here he was, his weapon lifted as though to protect himself as the skinny, glaring Austin, head tech in Security Control, stalked into the room.

Mercury glared at the weapon the Breed held. Before Austin could take another step forward, Mercury blocked him, reached around and jerked the powerful, shortened automatic rifle from the guard’s hands as he pushed him back and snarled a warning at him to stay put.

Blond hair spiked, his gray eyes a bit malicious, Austin sneered at Mercury as he moved forward. The scent of ego filled the room. He believed himself safe, able to order other Breeds around because of his position rather than his strength. For the most part, enforcers only barely tolerated him.

Glaring at him, Mercury watched as Austin crossed to the corner, jerked the sweater from the camera and tossed it to the floor.

Mercury growled furiously at the blatant disrespect of the action. His hand fell to the weapon strapped to his thigh as the Breed Enforcer backed up a step, swallowed tightly and glanced from the tech to Mercury.

“Pick the sweater up,” Mercury ordered the geeky little bastard who had always set his hackles to rising.

Austin Crowl was a computer and expert security technician, trained by the Council, and his sense of power had grown over the years within Sanctuary, as he rose to rein over the control room.

The bastard sneered at him with his tiny little canines.

“She can pick it up herself.” And he moved to stomp from the room, clearly ignorant of the Breed he was dealing with, and the fact that the normal rules that governed enforcers no longer applied to Mercury.

Before Mercury could stop himself, he had his hand around Austin’s throat and was pinning the other man to the wall, aware of Ria coming to her feet quickly behind the desk.

“There’s no blood, Ria,” he informed her, staring into Austin’s pale, despicable little face. “At least not yet.”

“Merc, man, let him go.” The young Breed Enforcer had a nervous quiver to his voice as Mercury kept his hand around the tech’s throat.

Fear. The scent of it slammed into Mercury’s senses, causing his lips to curl back, a vicious rumble brewing in his chest.

“Pick up the sweater,” Mercury growled into Austin’s face as he released him just enough to shift his grip to the back of his neck and force him down. To his knees, watching as the other man picked up the sweater, gasping for air and in pain at the grip Mercury had on him.

It would be so easy to snap his little head right off his shoulders and watch him bleed. The slight he had delivered to Ria was intolerable. It wouldn’t be allowed.

Pulling him back to his feet, Mercury stared into his eyes, watching fear sink into Austin’s bones as he trembled like a weak-kneed coward.

“Respect.” He let the word rumble from his throat. “In her presence. Or you die, little girl.” He used the worst insult he could have used to the egomaniacal little Breed.

His gaze flickered over the pristine, perfectly pressed, perfectly starched yellow shirt, buttoned to the throat and glaring against the Breed’s dark skin and white-tipped, spiked brown hair.

“Before you challenge me, girl, grow some balls,” he snarled, pushing him out the door, as once again, Kane, Callan, and Jonas rushed into the hallway.

“He’s crazy,” Austin gasped, his high-pitched voice causing them all to wince as he pointed to Mercury. “He tried to kill me. I was ordered to watch the room and he tried to kill me for removing that damned sweater.”

Callan turned to him, Jonas leaned against the opposite wall, and Mercury felt Ria move to his side as she watched, the scent of her anger drifting around him now. It was so volatile that even he could smell it.

“Mercury, leave the cameras uncovered, for God’s sake,” Callan bit out, staring back at him in anger.

“Why? I’m with her. It’s not like she can steal the files while I’m watching her.”

“Perhaps it’s not the files but her we’re worried about.” Ely stepped into the fray, maintaining a careful distance as she stared back at him worriedly.

“Dammit, Ely, since when the hell aren’t we worried about Ms. Rodriquez?” Callan snapped. “Security is my concern here.”

Mercury stared back at her, aching. His chest actually ached from the eyes trained on him, suspicious, cautious.

“Mr. Lyons, was the order to uncover the camera given by you?” Ria asked, her voice bland, carefully neutral.

“Ms. Rodriquez, those files are the heart and soul of Sanctuary,” he snapped back at her, his eyes blazing now. “I wouldn’t allow anyone alone in this room with them.”

“I wasn’t alone,” she pointed out.

And Callan shook his head. “Until we know what the hell is going on here, then it’s my job to protect everyone here. Even you,” he snapped, glowering at Mercury.

“I’ll be returning to my cabin now.” Ria turned, collecting her purse and the large thermal cup she used to bring coffee in with her. “You’ll be hearing from my boss by morning I assume.”

She left the room, hips swaying, all delicate strength and confidence, and Mercury didn’t hesitate to follow her. Fuck it. He’d put his life on the line for Sanctuary for a decade or longer. He’d followed orders, he’d played the good little Feline, and even his pride leader found no trust in him.

“Mercury.”

He paused as Callan growled his name.

Turning slowly, he stared back at the other man, years of what he had believed were trust and friendship hanging between them, pulling at him.

“Your safety is no less important than Sanctuary’s.”

Mercury shook his head, his lips twisting mockingly. He countered his pride leader. “Yeah, can’t have the bogeyman ripping hearts out in full view, can we? Only when ordered.”

Just as it had been in the labs. Only when ordered. He shrugged. “My mission is protecting the woman. As far as I know, I’m still operational.” He looked to Jonas. They all looked to Jonas.

And Jonas grinned. “As far as I’m concerned, you are. And the woman’s getting ahead of you, Enforcer.” He nodded to the door she was disappearing through.

“Good day, Pride Leader Lyons.” Mercury nodded back to him respectfully. Callan was a man he did respect, even if Callan didn’t trust him. “If you need me, I’m sure Director Wyatt will let me know.”

With that, Mercury turned and followed the path Ria had taken. She hadn’t left. She was waiting by the passenger side of the SUV, door open, watching the house expectantly. When he followed her out, she got inside the car and was waiting when he slid into the driver’s seat.

Ahead, Lawe’s four-by-four pickup led the way.

“There’s a power play in Sanctuary,” she stated as he put the vehicle in gear and drove toward the gates.

He glanced at her in surprise. “Callan doesn’t allow those.”

The gates swung open, protestors pouring around the truck ahead of them, then around theirs. Signs proclaiming “Breeds Are Atrocities in God’s Eyes” and “Breeds Die” were waved frantically as enraged faces filled the windows.

“Animal,” one woman screamed as she pounded at the driver’s window. “Bastard Breeds.”

Mercury drove steadily through the crowd until it disappeared behind them, the chanting ringing in his head long after the sound died down.

And with the chanting was Ria’s statement. A power play. Callan didn’t allow power plays, but he wasn’t at peak strength either. The gunshot wound that had nearly killed him two months before had weakened him and he was still recovering. Was someone moving to threaten Sanctuary while the pride leader was down?

Mercury shook his head. He couldn’t imagine it. Kane and Jonas watched Callan’s back, as did Callan’s brothers, Taber and Tanner. He had a capable, able force around him. A power play wasn’t possible. But other things were.

And Mercury was just an enforcer stripped of his rank and his uniform. And the friends he had once believed he had.

Callan slammed the door to his office viciously behind him as Jonas, his bodyguard Jackal, Kane, Ely, the little dweeb Austin and the enforcer who had been holding a weapon on Mercury stepped into the room.

He motioned Ely, Austin and the enforcer to the back of the room, out of earshot, as he waved the others to his desk and glared at Jonas furiously.

“Why the hell was Mercury not in uniform?” he snarled to Jonas. He had never seen Mercury out of his enforcer uniform while on duty. With Mercury, it wasn’t heard of. And at this point, it appeared to be a deliberate slap against the authority Callan held within the community.

Jonas stared back at him in surprise, before glancing to the other side of the room. Ely had her arms wrapped across her chest as she paced; the tech and the enforcer were standing nervously next to the wall.

Jonas turned and stared back at Callan intently. “Because you ordered his rank revoked. His uniform and his weapon were taken, Callan.”

Callan stared back at Jonas, stilling, every instinct inside him roaring out in challenge now. Because he had given no such order.

“What the hell is going on around here?” He kept his voice calm, level, low enough to go no further than the men surrounding him, but he couldn’t stop the furious growl that rumbled through it. “I have revoked no one’s rank. Least of all Merc’s. But I may well be getting ready to.”

He glowered back at the others in the room.

Ely flinched, the enforcer paled, and if Austin Crowl could have shrunk farther back against the wall, then he did.

“You.” He stabbed a finger in Austin’s direction. “Would you like to tell me what the hell you were doing??”

Austin blinked. “Following your orders, sir.” His voice trembled as Callan stared back at him in furious shock.

“My orders? I ordered you to deliberately antagonize another Breed?” His voice lowered further. Something was wrong here, because he had given no such order, and he sure as hell hadn’t revoked Mercury’s rank.

Austin was paste white now, his lips trembling as he licked them. “No, sir. You ordered the camera uncovered.” Terror filled his voice. “He answered the call.” He pointed to the enforcer as though it were his fault.

The young enforcer stood tall, Callan gave him credit for that, but his gaze was stark with fear. “You asked for Austin, and when he hung up he stated we were to uncover that camera and I was to go with him.”

Callan stared back at the two men. They weren’t lying. Someone had managed to impersonate him, from his own home.

Callan turned slowly to Kane, lowering his voice once again. “See if you can get into the system. See if that call can be traced. And I want the orders that went out regarding Mercury’s rank traced as well. Find out what the hell is going on here.”

“You didn’t give the order?” Jonas asked him carefully, his silver eyes swirling with chilling force.

Callan flicked him a disgusted look as Kane remained silent. “Any such order would have gone to you, Jonas. Not an enforcer below Mercury’s rank.”

“Callan, you have to do something about Mercury,” Ely stated then, her voice rising with anger.

Desperation and fear laced her voice as Callan glanced at Jonas and read the flat, hard anger in the director’s expression.

“Ely.” Callan turned to her, fighting back his anger as he indicated that she should take a seat before him. “What kind of game are you playing with Mercury?”

Kane and Jonas took their seats as well, watching as the doctor moved forward warily and sat down. With a flick of his hand, Callan sent the tech and the enforcer outside the door.

“He’s dangerous, Callan.” She pushed her fingers through her tussled hair and stared back at him as she rubbed at her neck, clearly concerned, worried. “These tests don’t lie. The Council developed the criteria to detect the feral fever. It’s building in him, and someone’s going to die if you don’t confine him and get him back on the drug therapy.”

Confine Merc? Callan stared at her in shock. “You want to confine Merc? And drug him?”

Disbelief filled him. Where had her compassion gone? This wasn’t the doctor who had overseen their mates, their community, and protected them when the anomalies in their systems went haywire. The Ely he knew would have never considered such a thing.

“It’s the only venue of safety,” she argued, clearly believing the words spilling from her lips. “Callan, we can’t risk him going feral. If the press gets so much as a hint of this, it could destroy us.”

“Bullshit.”

All eyes turned to Jonas.

“How dare you!” Ely snarled as she turned on him. “You’re playing your damned games again. Tell our pride leader how you refused to allow me to bring my findings to him or Mercury. Ordered me not to reveal them. You’re risking all our lives.”

Callan watched the confrontation, inhaling slowly, deeply, trying to figure out the emotions or the cause for her behavior.

“And you’re a paranoid scientist with nothing better to do than chase shadows,” Jonas grunted. “You’re irrational lately, Ely. Have you had yourself tested?” He flicked her a disgusted look.

“You have to do something about him.” Ely surged to her feet as Callan leaned back against his desk and watched the entire scene with a sense of disbelief.

“Sit down, Ely,” he ordered her.

“I will not sit here and listen to his insults,” she bit out. “He’s protecting Mercury for some game he’s playing and I’ve had enough of it. I want that Breed confined and tested. I demand it.”

“You demand it?” He straightened slowly. “By what right do you demand anything?”

He watched the scientist closely now. Her features were flushed, her eyes bright as anger coursed through her.

“I’ll take my findings to the Ruling Cabinet if you refuse to listen to me,” she snarled back in his face.

She was defying him; not just defying him but deliberately challenging him.

“Will you now?” He looked around the room. “We have three of the Ruling Cabinet here now, disagreeing with your suggestions. What makes you think for a second that you can get the vote you need to even consider your demands?”

Her fists clenched at her side; rage was burning inside her, and that was unlike Ely. Ely was cool, calm. She didn’t become enraged and never had she suggested anything so vile as confining a Breed.

“You’re no better than the Council then,” she yelled. “At least they had the good sense to confine him and find a treatment for him. You will only allow him to destroy himself and the Breed community in the process.”

They were all staring at her in shock.

Callan gave himself a second, then another. Then before he could control himself, he was in her face, his canines flashing in a furious snarl as she plopped back in her chair, paling.

Callan braced his hands on the arms of that chair, leaning close to her, his eyes holding hers, enforcing his authority over her, feeling the strength of the animal inside him rising to the fore.

He was pride leader. It was his decisions that led his community, and damn her to hell, but she would submit to those decisions. He stared down at her, waited until her gaze shifted from his to his shoulder in respect, and the smell of her fear overcame the smell of her arrogance.

“Would you care to repeat to me the insult that just left your lips?” he asked her, the hard rasp of the animal fury coursing through his voice.

Her gaze flickered, lowered, as she breathed roughly.

“I apologize,” she whispered. “I had no right to say that.” Her eyes lifted again, and he saw the fear and the concern in her gaze as she stared at his shoulder once again. “Callan, I’m frightened for Mercury, and for that woman. He’s dangerous and you won’t listen to me because he’s your friend. I understand that. But you have to do something.”

“Jonas.” Callan kept his gaze on Ely’s eyes, boring into them, enforcing his strength, enforcing his command. “Did you order her to keep this information from me?”

“I did, Pride Leader.” Jonas was smarter than the scientist; he kept his voice level, calm.

Callan moved back, watching as Ely’s eyes lowered, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her posture calmer now.

“Why?” He turned on the director.

In terms of power within the hierarchy of the Breed Ruling Cabinet, Jonas was but a step below him. If push came to shove, the other man could possibly enforce certain areas of strength, but Jonas understood the battle they were fighting. Sometimes.

“I disagree with her assessment,” Jonas stated calmly, confidently, though he cast Ely another confused look.

“You’ve seen the tests?” Callan asked him.

“I’ve seen the test results. I compared those results to the security video of Mercury and Ms. Rodriquez, as well as the video from the lab the day Ely tricked that blood from his arm. She deliberately antagonized him, then took the blood. Results from the blood taken moments earlier showed none of the feral hormone. It was only in the blood she took while accusing him of raping his woman that it showed up.”

“She’s not his mate,” Ely snapped. “I’ve run all the tests, Jonas. There’s no possibility of it.”

Callan turned, and before he could halt it, a hiss of male fury passed his lips. Animal to animal, Breed to Breed, that sound had the power to shock them both, because it was one Callan never used. It was a warning of strength and power, and the line she was crossing.

Callan turned back to Jonas now. “What’s your opinion now, Director Wyatt?” he snarled.

“Callan, Mercury’s always had the feral hormone.” Jonas sighed. “His lab reports show this. The drug therapy they used merely kept him under their control. He killed when he was ordered. The drug controlled him; it silenced the need for freedom inside him and the anger he would have felt at the death of his pride members. You don’t see him in battle, or during missions. I do. And I’ve blocked Ely’s attempts to test him before and after his missions. Dr. Morrey’s concern for Mercury is commendable, but unnecessary.”

Callan’s eyes narrowed. “Why have you blocked those tests, at those times?”

Jonas sighed roughly at the question. “Because he’s what he was created to be in battle,” he admitted. “I have no better enforcer than Mercury. He’s cunning, merciless and frighteningly intelligent. His kill rate is lower than the other enforcers because he has enough power to take his enemies down physically, hand to hand, in large numbers, and he’s intelligent enough and in control enough to know when to kill and when not to.”

“And I haven’t been informed of these possible problems for what reason?” Callan growled back at him.

“Because the Bureau of Breed Affairs isn’t under Sanctuary’s control, Callan,” Jonas stated, albeit respectfully. “The enforcers are mine to watch over, and if I do say so, I do a damned good job of watching out for them. In the middle of mating heat, with Supremacists and fucking protestors crowding around our asses every time they see one of us on the streets. Those are my men, and regardless of Dr. Morrey’s paranoid little suspicions, the manipulations she accuses me of are some damned brilliant strategy if I do say so myself. My enforcers succeed, and that record speaks for itself.”

Kane spoke up then. “I want to know what made Dr. Morrey suspicious enough to deceive a friend and deliberately enrage him before taking that blood. You’ve always been someone we can trust, Ely. The one person we could count on to figure out what was going on with our mates, and in the Breeds’ cases, with their bodies. Why trick him?”

She stared at her hands.

“That’s something I’m interested in as well,” Callan stated, staring back at Ely. “Why did you target Mercury?”

She lifted her head, though she didn’t meet his eyes. She stared at his shoulder, the animal in her realizing the fine line she was walking now.

“The mating tests,” she whispered.

“He’s not her mate, so what’s the problem? Besides the feral adrenaline that showed up in it.”

Ely’s gaze flickered. “She’ll make it worse. Her hormones intensify the feral fever,” she whispered. “For some reason, when I tested for their mating values, that feral quality immediately showed up in the adrenaline. She’ll destroy him. His reaction to her will destroy him.”

“Or she’ll complete him,” Jonas spoke up, turning his gaze from Ely to Callan. “I’ve studied the lab reports, Callan. I don’t think Mercury lost his mate in those labs; he lost his animal instead. I think Ria is possibly his mate, and the presence of the strength in that feral adrenaline proves it. Mercury’s test results are never the same as other Breeds’. The animal DNA fluctuates in its recession, as Ely can confirm. I believe the results of those mating tests are more an indication that she is his mate, rather than not. I think the lioness could have been his mate. But I believe Ria is his mate.”

Ely’s anger built around her, the scent of it causing Callan to shoot her a sharp look.

“Respectfully,” she finally bit out, “where did he obtain his degree in genetics? Because his supposition is the most dangerous load of crap I’ve ever heard.”

“Respectfully, Dr. Morrey,” Jonas stated then, “I don’t need a degree to know not to betray a friend. It appears perhaps your education was lacking, though.”

“I know the science, and I know Breed genetics,” she fired back at him, though quieter than before. “All you know is your own arrogance.”

“Ask yourself, Ely, is it possible in any way that your findings could have been tampered with as well? Because if you’d pull your head out of your scientific ass long enough to realize it, you’d see that Mercury is in complete control.”

“Ely, leave the room,” Callan ordered her, staring at her, something hardening inside him at the sense of fanatical certainty he could feel pouring from her. “Return to your labs. I’ll let you know when I need to talk to you again.”

“Callan, you can’t let him continue this game,” she cried, jumping to her feet and facing him with a hint of desperation.

“Get your notes and your tests in order and have them faxed into this office,” he told her, his voice hardening. “I expect to see them within the hour.”

She stared back at him, breathing rapidly, before clenching her fists and stalking from the room. Callan watched her go, his eyes narrowed, his own suspicions aroused now as he turned back to Jonas.

“Any orders I give concerning Mercury will come from me, in person.” He turned to Kane. “Find out who the hell is falsifying my orders and bring that person to me. I want to know exactly what the hell is going on here.”

“The enforcer who relieved Mercury of his weapon and uniform came to me afterward,” Jonas told him. “He said the order came into Austin Crowl’s office. The enforcer took the call himself. Someone’s impersonating your voice, at the least.”

Callan rubbed at the still-sensitive flesh of his chest, where he had taken a bullet but months before, and turned to Kane.

“Is this room secured?”

Kane moved from his chair, slid open a drawer on Callan’s desk and lifted free the handheld listening device detector.

“It says we’re clear,” he murmured, replacing it. But his pale blue eyes were suspicious.

He drew away a second later as the phone at his side rang.

“There’s no way to impersonate me to my mate,” Callan growled as he stared back at Jonas. “If you’re in doubt regarding an order, bring Merinus to me. It’s the only safety precaution we can depend on. Until then, find out what the hell is going on here, and where these fucking orders came from.”

“Gentlemen.” Kane sighed as he lowered the phone that had rung at his side moments before. “Our problems have just been added to.”

Callan’s gaze cut to him.

Just what the hell they needed, a bigger problem. As though dealing with Jonas and Ely butting heads over the enforcers again wasn’t enough.

Kane looked at them all mockingly. “Ms. Rodriquez has just notified her boss that her job is being blocked, she’s been insulted, and she’s requested the Vanderale heli-jet to be sent to transport her to the airport, where the Vanderale private jet is to pick her up. Let’s kiss our funding good-bye right now. It was nice while it lasted.”