Tanner's Scheme (Breeds #9)

Tanner's Scheme (Breeds #9) Page 22

“Do you know why I was appointed head of the Public Relations Department of Sanctuary?” he asked then.

She rolled her eyes. “You were appointed as head of Public Relations because you have the looks of a fallen angel and the social graces to match. You’re considered the epitome of what the Breeds truly are: playful, caring and as threatening as a lap cat purring for attention.”

His lips curled into an amused smile as he propped his arms on the table and leaned forward once again.

“That’s the reason we leaked to the public,” he said softly. “I took the job because of those things, as well as the fact that my sense of smell is so highly developed that I can walk into the room and give the crowd what they need to hear. What they need to reassure themselves. I can smell more than a lie, Scheme. I can smell the slightest deception. I know you’re still lying to me.”

She stared back at him silently, cursing her own weakness. She wasn’t lying, exactly. She just wasn’t being totally honest.

“Do you think I’m really going to give you enough to let you hang me?” And that was total honesty.

He stared back at her intently, so intently that Scheme wondered if he could see into her soul.

“I wouldn’t hang you. Trust me, Scheme. Let me help you,” he told her, and her heart believed. Her mind screamed out in warning. She had heard those words before, from Chaz. He had sworn he would protect her. Sworn he loved her. Sworn she was his life, his love and all things in between, and God help her but he had nearly destroyed everything she was instead.

She had to get out of there and get hold of Jonas. It was imperative, because her need to trust Tanner was overruling her need for caution. She rose to her feet, doing nothing to hide her nervousness, hoping, praying that the scent of her arousal and her nerves would overwhelm the scent of the knife at her back.

“You’re very confident of yourself.” Her voice shook as she moved around the table.

“Confident of my ability to help you, if you’ll let me.” He stared back at her, his expression suddenly serious, almost sad. “But you would have to believe in me first, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t need your help.” Her fingers trailed up his arm as he leaned back in the chair, his eyes drifting closed as she came around him, her fingers caressing up the shirt-covered shoulders to his neck as the beat of her heart threatened to strangle her and tears suddenly dampened her eyes.

She lowered her head to his neck, placing a heated kiss to his pulse as she slid the knife from her waistband. Her hand shook as a tear fell from her eye.

She had to do it. Her tongue tasted his neck as she shuddered, gripping the hilt desperately as her hand lowered to her side.

He would be okay. Breeds healed amazingly fast. She wasn’t going to kill him. She knew where to strike. Her father had taught her how to maim and how to kill. She could do it. Easy.

She fought to breathe, bringing the knife up further as he sat relaxed in front of her, his arms on the table. The perfect position. The knife would slide in just under his ribs, missing the spleen.

He would be disabled until she could bind his hands and then the wound. He would live.

Do it, she screamed out at herself. Now.

Her hand trembled.

Her breath hitched as a sob filled her throat.

This was her only choice. She had to escape, and he had already proved he wasn’t going to just let her go.

“Do it, Scheme,” he whispered gently. “Hurry, pretty girl, before you lose your nerve.”

He knew. She would have frozen if a shudder hadn’t shaken her body and the sob hadn’t escaped her throat.

“It’s easy.” His voice was amazingly tender. “The knife you chose is perfect. If you keep hesitating, I’m going to get impatient.”

“You son of a bitch,” she screamed, jerking back before she threw the knife, the tears finally falling as she stumbled back from him, watching as his head lowered and shook slowly.

He rose from the table lazily, turning to her, his expression somber, filled with sadness.

“It’s not so easy to kill when your hand holds the weapon, is it?” he asked, his tone so understanding that holding back the tears was impossible. “If you want to convince me that you’re a killer, that you’ve cold-bloodedly worked with your father all these years, then you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Another sob broke free as he moved toward her, staring at her with eyes so gentle, so filled with emotion that she felt something inside her soul rip open—a wound so intense, so destructive that it weakened her knees and left her on the floor, crying.

“You have to let me go,” she cried. “Let me out of here, Tanner, please.” If he didn’t, she was going to lose her strength; she wouldn’t be able to hold back the need to trust him much longer.

Let him think it was claustrophobia; she could handle that. The truth could get her killed, could get her returned that much faster to her father, and the death that awaited her there wouldn’t be easy.

“Come here.” He knelt in front of her, lifting her, holding her close to him as he moved her to the couch. “Right here.” He sat her down, then opened the laptop he was working on. “Look at this, Scheme.”

The screen flared to life, six small windows glowing on it.

“This is the area around my cabin, several miles from here.” He pointed out four of the screens. “What do you see?”

The screens were thermoactive, showing bodies moving, weapons held ready.

“Those are Council soldiers, looking for me,” he told her. “They’ve been watching the cabin for days, hoping to find you. Reports are coming in from Sanctuary that several transmissions have left our communications base, concerning you and the assignments that have gone out from Sanctuary. Your father wants you bad enough to make his spy work overtime to find out if the Breed community is searching for you, or if they have you.”

“So why are they here?”

“Because every Breed in Sanctuary knew I was gunning for you. His spy would have known. His spy would have informed him that I’m missing from the compound. Very few people know I’m on vacation right now. If you walk out of here, he’ll find you. He’ll kill you. Trust me. I can save you.”

She stared at the computer, fighting the need, fighting the words on her lips that would reveal everything.

“He hired your ex-lover to kill you, Scheme. He murdered your child before it ever had a chance at life. Do you really want to die too?” he said gently.

She shook her head desperately. She was trying to protect herself. Oh God, she wanted to trust him. She needed to trust him, and she knew she couldn’t.

One hand flattened on her abdomen as she reminded herself why. She was empty, her life was empty. Her child had been cut out of her body and a tubal performed while she was unaware. She would never conceive again without the general’s permission. She would always remember the consequences if she did.

Jonas had warned her to trust no one but him. That even he couldn’t vouch for any one Breed until he was certain of the identity of the spy working within their ranks. He had made her promise. Made her swear it. If he couldn’t vouch for Tanner himself, how could she be certain?

Because she loved him, her heart whispered.

And she had loved before, the dark part of her soul reminded her. Remember where that led?

“Don’t…” She shook her head desperately. “I don’t have what you want, Tanner. I don’t have your answers.”

“Scheme, help me save you. For both our sakes.”

She lifted her gaze to his, his features blurry through the tears that still fell from her eyes. Why couldn’t she strike? She had killed, regardless of what he thought. A Coyote that had caught her helping another Breed escape. A soldier who had slipped into her room intending to rape her. A knife was her preferred weapon; she knew how to use it. Dammit, she knew how to kill, how to maim; why couldn’t she strike against this one man?

“There’s no saving me,” she finally whispered, accepting that fate. “For both our sakes, Tanner, stop trying.”

CHAPTER 14

Sighing wearily, Tanner pulled Scheme into his arms before lifting her gently into his lap. She lay in his arms like a babe, fighting to control her sobs, her breath hitching as tears dampened his shirt.

He had taken a risk, he knew. The chances of her sliding that knife into his side had been high. Too fucking high. He could have been bleeding out on the stone floor rather than wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his chest.

So why wasn’t he bleeding? He’d been almost certain she would attempt the blow. What bothered him was the fact that at that point, he had almost decided to let her have it.

She had to trust him. There wasn’t enough time left to gain her trust or to hope for the best. He had so little time left. Even less if Callan or Jonas became suspicious and guessed where the general’s missing daughter really was. He didn’t worry about anyone else, but Jonas was naturally paranoid, and Callan, well hell, Callan just knew him. He didn’t doubt that his pride leader had already guessed what he was up to. What Callan decided to do about it would be anyone’s guess.

“You’ve never had a problem doing what you had to before,” he murmured against her ear. “Why couldn’t you do it, Scheme?”

“I don’t want to die in these stupid caves.” She jerked at the hold he had on her.

“Stop fighting me.” He held her closer, one hand cupping her head and pressing it to his shoulder. “And stop lying to me.”

“I don’t need you to hold me,” she cried out. “I’m not a baby. I don’t need your comfort. I need you to let me go.”

His jaw clenched with the effort to hold back his frustration.

“Did you see those soldiers on the monitor, Scheme? Who the hell do you think they’re looking for?”

“You!” she screamed. “It’s your stupid cabin, isn’t it?”

He laughed at that. “Come on, baby, even the Council is smarter than that. They know what killing me will do to their cause. Don’t you listen to the news? The world loves me. The outcry against the Council and the pure genetics groups would be horrendous. They wouldn’t dare. They’re here because they suspect I have you. Not because they want me dead.”

It was amusing to even consider it. How many times had he sneered at the Council soldiers who trailed him whenever he left Sanctuary? As much as they hated him, they couldn’t kill him, and what’s more, they couldn’t allow him to die, not yet. Not as long as public sentiment toward him was so high.

She struggled against him again, her breath hitching, her deliberate restraint over her tears breaking his heart.

The scent of her, a mix of guilt, fear, pain and longing, twisted inside him. He couldn’t have expected this when he kidnapped her. How she would set him on fire and break his heart at the same time.

She made him feel things he had never felt before, and that scared the living hell out of him when he paused long enough to consider it.

He nipped her ear gently. “Do you really want me to let you go? You’re scared, Scheme. I can take that fear away.”

A surprised, almost cynical laugh left her lips. “Are you crazy?”

“My pride leader says I am.” He bent her back in his arms, much as he had done the day before. “Want to test his theory?”

Her chocolate eyes were nearly black, staring back at him in confusion, passion and anger as her hands gripped his forearms, her lips parting just enough to cause his cock to jerk in response.

“You’re a hazard to your own health,” she bit out. “How did you know I wouldn’t use that knife?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a small smile. “I think I even expected you to go through with it.”