Stygian's Honor

PROLOGUE

This was the last thing she needed this year, Liza Johnson thought as she moved along the deserted jogging path that cut through the Window Rock Navajo Nation Park.

This was supposed to be her year.

It was supposed to be the year her life truly began, or so her best friend’s grandfather had promised her.

Orrin Martinez, one of the secretive spiritual advisors of the Six Tribes, had sought her out. She hadn’t gone looking for his advice, now had she? He’d had no earthly reason to lie to her and yet he had done just that.

Or at least, that was how it seemed.

Because this wasn’t her year.

It was the year of the Breeds.

The arrival of the Breeds and the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs demanding access to one of the Navajo’s most sacred possessions, a database of DNA profiles the Navajo Nation Council kept under the strictest security, had set in motion events that unsettled Liza in ways she couldn’t explain.

The calling together of the chiefs of the Six Tribes, whose sole mission was the acquisition and protection of the profiles, had thrown her entire family, as well as her friends’ families, in upheaval.

Such a sacred part of the Navajo wasn’t left to politics to protect.

And the protection of it was becoming dangerous not just to her friends, but also to herself.

One of Liza’s best friends had nearly been abducted by the man who had attempted to rape her weeks before. Another friend had been shot trying to defend her. And now here she was, risking not just herself but also her undercover status to draw out soldiers who were stalking her for unknown reason.

She’d been working, training, and honing her abilities to work with the Navajo Covert Law Enforcement Division.

“They’re moving in,” the voice stated softly over the tiny—all but invisible—electronic link tucked in her ear. “Just bounce those pretty ta-tas, sugar girl, and look pretty. We’ll take care of the rest—Oh shit, Cullen.”

Liza managed not to laugh but she could see exactly what had happened. Their communications and electronic guru, Reever Jacobs, had obviously taken a blow from their commander, Cullen Maverick.

Flirtatious, sensual, teasing as hell and a complete killer, Reever absolutely loved a good fight, and—as he more often claimed—corrupting a good woman.

Their commander, Cullen, rarely agreed with his various philosophies, but Reever was a hell of a communications expert and a warrior comparable to those who lived during the golden years of the Apache Nation.

The large circular design cutout in the hill, the aptly named Window Rock, rose behind her. The first rays of warming sunlight were barely caressing the earth and had yet to peak into the small valley of cottonwoods and pinon trees that the path wove through.

“Heads up, you have Diane Broen coming up on you. Behind her, moving in fast, are your shadows. Get ready for a party, Munchkin.”

Liza almost smiled at the nickname Cullen and Reever had given her when they had first met, nine years before.

She was still short, but now, he only called her Munchkin when they were on a mission or assignment together—thankfully.

“Here we go,” Reever announced softly. “Bad-ass Broen is coming to visit.”

Liza felt the presence behind her the second it moved into place. The hairs at the back of her neck rose in anticipation of danger and a certainty that she was pushing her luck far past its limit this morning.

She twisted, throwing her body to the side before coming to a crouch and staring back at Diane Broen with narrowed eyes.

The other woman came to a stop, her brow arching in mocking surprise as Liza faced her suspiciously. “What do you want?” Tense and prepared, she stared back at Diane.

This woman was a highly trained mercenary and lover to one of the Bureau’s most trusted Breed enforcers. What the hell was she doing here?

“A nice jog?” Diane queried with a small smile as she crossed her arms over her breasts and stared back at Liza curiously.

A nice jog, her ass.

“You’re lying.” Clipped and clearly distrusting, Liza remained on guard as Diane faced her. “Now, what do you want and why are you following me?”

“Who trained you?” Diane asked rather than answering the question.

Never trust anyone who answered a question with a question, her father had always warned her.

“No one you know, I’m certain,” Liza sneered back. “Now, what the hell do you want?”

The other woman tilted her head to the side as Liza considered her options if this woman turned out to be the enemy.

Tensing, she prepared for attack.

“Easy, Liza,” Cullen, obviously watching her closely, murmured through the still-in-place link. “Let’s see what she wants.”

Oh, she had every intention of at least giving the other woman a chance to show her hand. Diane Broen was part of the Breed community as well as the Bureau of Breed Affairs now that her sister, Rachel Broen, was married to the director of that Bureau, Jonas Wyatt.

Not that there was much of a chance of kicking Ms. Broen’s ass if she had to, Liza knew. But she might be able to hold her off until help arrived.

Or until she could run.

“I’m no threat to you,” the other woman said with a soft, friendly laugh as Liza straightened, her gaze moving around them quickly as she searched for signs of the Council soldiers she knew would be moving in.

She didn’t have time to stand around and chitchat all morning.

“Then you’ll kindly leave the way you came,” Liza said, desperate to get rid of her. How the hell was she supposed to get the information she needed when there wasn’t a chance the Council soldiers would move in as long as Diane was here.

Diane grinned back at her ruefully. “Sorry, Liza, but we really need to talk. Just for a bit, you understand. We could return to the hotel for the discussion if you like?” She glanced toward the direction of the Navajo Suites. “I promise it won’t take long.”

Liza’s gaze jerked over Diane’s shoulder.

For precious seconds she had to fight the panic threatening to tear through her and overtake her at the sight of figures moving in behind the other woman.

She’d been a part of the Navajo’s Breed Underground Network for over a year now, and she had never been as frightened as she was now.

A moment of static at her ear confirmed for her that Cullen and Reever were still there. “Bureau Breeds are moving in fast behind them. We have you covered,” Cullen assured her, but she heard the concern in his tone. “See if you can get the bastards talking. If you can’t, just be sure to hit the ground when I give the order.”

“He’s harmless,” Diane stated as Cullen’s soft voice faded away.

He?

Oh, what was coming in behind the other woman was far from harmless.

Swallowing tightly, Liza stared back at the other woman. “We have to get out of here.”

“Thor’s not going to hurt you.” Exasperation and impatience filled Diane’s voice as well as her expression, as though she were dealing with a nervous debutante or nearly hysterical woman.

“Honey, I’ve seen that hot-assed Thor of yours, and he makes one. Not four,” Liza assured her.

Diane swung around, her hand whipping to her back, where her weapon was holstered. She merely gripped it as though needing the reassurance that it was there.

Adrenaline flowed like a river racing through Liza’s bloodstream as she and Diane now faced four Coyote Breeds, their gazes amused, weapons held at the ready.

And if Liza wasn’t mistaken, she and the Bureau of Breed Affairs agent were now in a hell of a lot of trouble, because they didn’t look like the good guys.

Neither did what appeared to be a human male who stepped from the shadows of a heavy oak several feet from the other woman. He didn’t seem the least bit friendly either.

Liza recognized him. She’d seen him jogging past the house several times. Hell, he’d even stopped to talk to her when Cullen had accompanied her to the grocery store in the past few weeks.

John Malcolm, he’d called himself, yet she and Cullen both had been certain it wasn’t his real name, despite the fact that the background check Reever had run on him—and the tags of his vehicle—had checked out.

Now she knew why she hadn’t been comfortable during those brief meetings. It hadn’t been his flirting or his blatant sexual interest in her. It was because he was the enemy.

“Malcolm.” Diane Broen whispered the name with an edge of pain.

She obviously knew him, and it was more than apparent he’d somehow betrayed her.

Liza swore she could feel the pain pouring from the other woman. It was in her voice and in her expression as she stared at the man as he stepped forward.

“I thought it was Brick,” Diane whispered when he smirked back at her.

Brick was another member of the four-man team Diane commanded since her uncle’s death, Liza knew. Cullen had managed to uncover the identities of most of the men on her team; unfortunately, he’d still had one to go.

This one, she guessed.

Malcolm chuckled, a cruel, vicious sound. “Good ole Gideon would have gotten me if I hadn’t managed to find a way to trip that dumb bastard Brick and throw him in the way. Son of a bitch never figured it out either.”

Interesting.

He had to be talking about the attack Gideon Cross had made on the team in D.C.

“Where’s Thor?” The rasp of fear in Diane’s voice warned Liza that the hulking Viking should have been close by.

The fact that he wasn’t obviously didn’t bode well.

The sudden disconnected feeling of watching rather than participating in life overwhelmed Liza at that moment. All of her senses seemed centered on taking in each iota of information, every expression, every feature.

The unique qualities of her photographic memory would take care of the rest.

“He’s a bit under the weather, boss.” Malcolm mocked Diane. “It might have something to do with the knife I shoved in his chest. I do believe I even managed to pierce that bastard’s icy little heart.”

“The Bureau’s moving in.” Cullen’s voice was barely a whisper as he alerted her to the cavalry’s arrival. “Thorsson is wounded but breathing. But these aren’t the soldiers we were targeting. We have another group moving in.”

As Cullen spoke, Liza watched as Diane pulled the laser pistol from her back and pointed it at Malcolm’s heart while activating it.

“Liza, run,” she ordered, her voice heavy, resigned.

Diane was going to kill him; Liza could sense it. Unfortunately, Malcolm wasn’t the only one there and that laser pistol would only get perhaps one shot off before those Coyote soldiers descended on her like rabid dogs.

The link in her ear activated again with a soft, electronic hiss.

“Stay in place.” Cullen spoke softly, warningly. “Keep her there.”

“Run where?” Liza forced disbelief to fill her voice as she protested Diane’s order. “Have you noticed there are four Coyotes here, lady? Does it look like I have a chance?”

One of those Coyotes grinned.

A tilt of his lips, which covered the curved canines, had her gaze sharpening on him.

There was something in his gaze as it met hers. Amusement, definitely, but perhaps also a hint of a wink? Was he flirting?

Or was there something more there?

“The first one who moves will die,” Diane snapped as she spared a glance back at Liza. “Now get the hell out of here.”

“If she runs, one of us will chase,” the lead Coyote murmured with an irrepressible grin. “We can’t resist. It’s like a dog with a ball. We just have to fetch.” He wagged his brows playfully.

He was definitely flirting. But there was also a slight edge of reassurance.

What the hell was going on here?

For a moment, Liza could only stare at the flirtatious Breed, aware that the woman standing in front of her was doing the same. It was obvious she was just as astonished as Liza, if the expression Liza glimpsed on her profile was anything to go by. Of course, all Breeds had the ability to make most women consider escaping in the opposite direction from them more often than not.

“Malcolm, where did you find your Coyotes?” Diane asked with insulting disbelief. “They’re fucking crazy.”

“They’re fucking effective,” Malcolm snapped back. “They caught your ass, didn’t they?”

Liza wondered just how true that was.

“Where is your mate, little warrior?” the Coyote murmured silkily as his dark gray eyes danced with laughter as he glanced at Malcolm then back to her. “I can smell his mark on you and it’s fresh. You know when he gets his hands on you he’s gonna show you exactly how a Breed punishes disobedient little mates, right?”

The mating mark?

Liza had seen it on her friend Isabelle’s lower neck. So the information Cullen had that Diane Broen was Lawe Justice’s mate was evidently true.

“Go to hell!” Diane rasped furiously.

The Coyote grimaced back at her. “Aw, come on, it’s just hot as hell there and my AC doesn’t even make a dent. Let’s try for something cooler.”

Liza stared back at him in complete disbelief as she realized Diane’s expression mirrored her own.

“Great, a comedian,” Liza murmured as she restrained the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, and all before breakfast.” Diane sighed. “I think I might be nauseous.”

“I warned you not to bring him, Malcolm.” Another Coyote spoke up from behind the one standing carefully between the rest of the Coyotes and her and Diane. “He’s going to start playing his incessant games again.”

“Loki, stop playing the fucking horndog,” Malcolm snapped at the flirting Coyote. “We’re here to kidnap a Breed mate, not see if we can seduce her.”

Breed mate? Were they not here for Liza then?

“I’m still maturing.” The Coyote shrugged with a cold, far too experienced, far too cruel expression of displeasure as the one behind him almost smiled in response.

“He has about as much common sense as his brother, Farce, had,” another drawled. “Remember what happened to him, Loki? The wrong end of a Feline weapon, I believe.”

Loki shrugged with a careless smile. “Yeah, but he wasn’t as charming as me, either. I just charm those Felines to death.”

Liza had a feeling there was nothing playful or flirtatious about the four Breeds, but there was definitely something going on that they weren’t revealing to the lone human with them.

“Liza, go!” Diane hissed again.

“We’ll just chase her.” The taller, broader Coyote behind Loki stepped forward to remind them before reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling free a slim cigar.

With lazy amusement, he holstered his weapon before lighting the tip, filling the early morning air with the scent of tobacco.

Diane turned to Malcolm, leaving Liza to try and decipher the expression on her face from her tone of voice. “I’ll kill you first.”

Malcolm smiled complacently. “No, Diane, you won’t,” he assured her. “Because if you do, we’re going to take your little friend behind you as well. And I think you know what will happen to her then. You have only one shot. That’ll leave three Coyotes for her to deal with. Do you think she’ll survive?”

For the briefest second, a memory surfaced. It wasn’t a flashback or a remembered nightmare. It was a memory out of place; one she knew couldn’t possibly be hers.

Clenching her fists and breathing in slow, deep breaths, it was gone as though it had never been.

But it had been; just as several others had been in the past weeks.

The heaviness that settled in her chest was like a crushing weight.

“Keep them talking,” Cullen ordered. “Help is almost there.”

They’d better damned well hurry. Things weren’t looking real good here, in her opinion.

“I’d rather fight,” Liza whispered to Diane, hoping to distract the other woman from doing anything that would hinder their chances of survival before that help arrived.

Diane nodded slowly. “Do you have a weapon?”

Not ones she was ready to reveal at the moment. At least, no more than one.

“A knife, that’s all I have.” Liza forced regret to fill her voice.

Diane drew in a hard, deep breath. “Don’t let them take you. It would be far better to use that knife on yourself than to be captured by them. Once they come for me, run for the hotel. Breeds will be looking for me. They’ll take care of you.”

“I’m surprised, Ms. Broen,” the sandy-haired Coyote drawled as he moved ahead of the flirtatious one. Smoke curled lazily from the cigar clenched between his teeth as his gray eyes gleamed wickedly. “I’ve heard of your mate. I’m shocked he’s not at your side facing us with that prick-assed attitude of his. Or did he do as he always swore he would and run the other way the minute he realized he was mated?”

“He was only delayed a bit,” Diane assured him.

“More like expecting her to be the good girl and stay in their bed rather than heading out to save this little bitch.” Malcolm waved his gun in Liza’s direction. “How did you know we were coming for her, Diane?”

That was something Liza would like to know herself.

She just hoped Cullen was able to do what he was so good at and read between the lines of this little conversation for the information he was searching for.

Liza remained carefully still as Diane stepped back protectively to cover her, the weapon in her hand never moving from Malcolm.

“Poor Malcolm,” Diane drawled in an amused tone. “You just couldn’t face me alone, could you? You had to bring the bullies to protect you.”

Malcolm’s gaze narrowed hatefully as the sibilant hiss of the communications link sounded in Liza’s ear.

“Get ready,” Cullen murmured. “Reinforcements are easing in. They’re there, just being careful.”

His updates were all that was keeping her sane at the moment. Her heart was pounding against her chest, racing at a terrified pace and tightening her throat with panic.

Malcolm scowled as the Coyote with the cigar chuckled wickedly. “Sounds like a challenge to me, little man.” Geez, could this crew get any more ridiculous?

She was beginning to doubt it.

“Shut the fuck up,” Malcolm snapped, his face flushing a brick red as his eyes glittered with fury. “No one asked you.”

“No one had to ask me.” The Coyote gave a low, amused laugh once again. “She’s cute as hell, Malcolm.”

“And she can kick Malcolm’s ass to hell and back,” Diane assured them all. “He knew he would have to face me.” She nodded to Malcolm. “He didn’t come for the girl. He came for me.”

The Coyote turned his head to Malcolm. “That true, Malcolm?”

Malcolm’s lips thinned angrily. “Two birds with one stone, right? She got her uncle and his second-in-command killed so she and that bastard Thor could take over the team. I told you I wanted blood.”

“That wasn’t the mission,” he was reminded as the Coyote briefly gripped his cigar between two fingers and lowered it from his lips. He didn’t look happy.

Diane chuckled. It was a forced sound of amusement, but it was amused nonetheless.

“Four Coyotes.” She sighed. “For little ole me? That scared of me, Malcolm?”

His jaw tightened, his hands clenched on the weapon.

“If you want me, come fight me,” she suggested with a laugh. “I dare you.”

Every Coyote there seemed to perk up.

Liza stared at the back of Diane’s head in disbelief. Everyone knew you didn’t make a dare in front of Coyotes. Good or bad, there wasn’t a Coyote living, it was said, who wouldn’t take a reasonable dare.

Or was that the point? This woman would know more about Coyote Breeds than most. She was more than just an agent for the Bureau; she was the director’s sister-in-law. No doubt, she knew all their strengths, their weaknesses, and exactly how to get to them.

“A thousand on the girl,” the leader murmured, proving the supposition.

“Shut the fuck up, Dog,” Malcolm raged, his body shaking with fury as he wiped his hands through his short dark hair.

“I got your thousand on the prick there. He has muscle where she doesn’t.” Loki took the bet before turning to the other two. “Mutt, Mongrel? You two in?”

“Thousand on the girl,” another Coyote drawled.

“Thousand on the prick.” Black-haired and intense, the last nodded his assent.

Malcolm was about to explode with the anger surging through him. A wave of brick red swept over his face as his brown eyes glared back at Diane in pure disdain.

Diane smiled in anticipation.

“Knives or fists?” she asked, evidently knowing his strengths as well as his weaknesses, just as she did the Coyote Breeds.

“You fucking whore,” he snarled, his teeth clenched, as a muscle throbbed in rapid reaction to the tightening of his teeth.

“I win, we walk away,” she demanded as she kept her eyes on Malcolm.

“I’ll kill you first,” Malcolm charged, his face reddening further as the flames of fury burned beneath his flesh.

“Take the challenge or walk away,” Dog snapped. “We won’t take her without the fight.”

Liza couldn’t believe this. “They’re betting my safety on a fucking fight?” she muttered incredulously, knowing Cullen was there, and praying he would have an explanation that would make sense.

“We got this,” Cullen promised as Liza fought to breathe. “Bureau Breeds have all of you covered. Just be ready to roll when they pull you out. We’ll capture one of the Coyotes coming in behind this mess when this is over and interrogate him.”

The mess being the less-than-bloodthirsty Coyotes ranged around her. They looked mean enough, heartless enough, yet Liza detected the flash of laughter in Dog’s gaze once again as she met his eyes.

Liza stared at the tableau around her, wondering just how often Breeds turned danger into a joke.

She didn’t particularly like it.

Dog’s smiled was clearly anticipatory, but he nodded easily. “Whip his ass and you walk. He whips yours—you run. How’s that?”

Diane gave a sharp, firm nod as she smiled at Malcolm. “It’s a bet.”

As Diane accepted the terms, the enforcers for the Bureau of Breed Affairs stepped from the cover of the trees and surrounded them.

Liza was still trying to get a head count when one of the few couples she knew, Megan Fields Arness and her husband, Braden Arness, stepped up to her and gripped her arm.

Megan muttered, “Let’s go,” at her ear.

She didn’t want to leave.

Liza had to force herself to hold back the involuntary protest. She wanted to stay. She needed to stay. The fight that was about to commence would no doubt display a variety of skillful moves she had yet to learn by attempting to watch the agents from the Bureau spar from a distance.

Grimacing, she followed Megan, knowing that convincing the other woman and her mate to allow her to stay wasn’t going to happen.

The link in her ear was silent, which was standard operating procedure whenever Control knew another Breed was within hearing distance.

The acute hearing and exceptional sense of smell were only two of the extraordinary senses they possessed. So much as a sizzle of static and any Breed within feet of her would sense it.

“Well, look who’s joining the party, boys,” Dog drawled as Megan and Braden hurried her away. “Looks like the bet’s off.”

“The hell it is.” The last thing she heard was Diane’s lover stepping into the fray, his voice a hard, animalistic growl.

That growl, its raw fury, brought on a flash of another memory threatening to intrude, to overcome reality as Liza was hustled quickly to safety.

They were occurring more frequently since the Breeds had arrived in Window Rock, bringing with them a disconcerting fear that Liza hurriedly pushed back.

Show no weakness.

Show no fear.

Show no mercy.

Show no remorse.

Those were the first things they were taught when they were accepted into the Navajo’s Breed Underground Network.

A Breed’s ability to sense those specific emotions was too well honed to allow any of those working with the network to go out without first being trained—rigorously—to hide them.

And now, that training was coming in damned handy.

Hell, it had been coming in handy for nearly two months now.

And now, Liza was nearly accosted by Breeds on a morning run designed to learn exactly why the Genetics Council had arrived on the tail of the Bureau of Breed Affairs.

The Bureau wasn’t telling the truth about what they were after; the deception had been detected and confirmed by its own sources. Unfortunately, those sources had no idea exactly what the Breeds were after either.