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"Freedom would be nice." Her voice was reflective, thoughtful as she responded to his earlier
comment.
"It would be very nice."
What she wasn't saying, he could feel. Freedom was adventure. It was the warrior's soul given the
chance to fight, to make the difference it had longed to make. She would have no choice but to fight.
Further training, if they survived this mission, would be a necessity. He was an assassin. He didn't
capture the scientists and Trainers who had worked within the Council. As far as he was concerned,
there was no redemption for the corruption that filled them. They were diseased animals. And like
such creatures of the wild, the only peace the world would know was in their deaths.
He flexed his shoulders, feeling the scars crisscrossing his back that he had never allowed Megan to
see. The whips used in the training centers and Labs were created to maim, to kill in the most painful
ways. He had learned early on to avoid that punishment at all costs. But he had learned it at a painful
price.
"We'll go slow." He made the promise against his better judgment. "We can observe the canyon from
above, see what you can pick up from there."
"It's too far away," she said regretfully. "I drive through the canyon when on patrol, looking for tire
tracks, or sensations of previous movement. I can't do that from a distance; I'll have to get into the
canyon. Normally, GPS will pick up life signs, but something jammed it in the gully, so I'm hesitant to
trust it now."
"Yeah, I noticed that. My Raider wasn't picking them up either. The jammers were gone when the
team went through the canyon though."
"Unless it was being used from another point. Did we miss one of the Coyotes? She turned to stare at
him, a frown creasing her brow.
"We missed one." He nodded, certain himself that there had been a third Coyote. "That's why we
won't rely on GPS this trip. We'll use what God gave us to survive, Megan." He couldn't let her do
otherwise.
"We don't have a choice. We find out now why they want you, and what my people were doing here.
And then we take them out."
Chapter Fifteen
The route they took to the canyon was longer than the others, but as Megan promised, the grassier
terrain yielded no dust clouds and the sheltering hills and passes muted the sound of the motor as it
made its way to the location.
It wasn't an easy drive, and one he was certain only the Raider or a terrain-eating motorbike could
have traversed.
The Raider sliced through several streams before squeezing through passes he was certain there was
no way it could scrape through.
Before noon, they were pulling into a hidden copse of trees. Braden cut the motor before leaving the
vehicle. The edge of the canyon was just ahead.
Braden pulled the binoculars from the backseat and began surveying the area while Megan looked
around nervously.
He could feel her fighting to lower the shields that were so much a part of her and search for any
hidden enemies.
"What do you feel? He kept scanning with the binoculars; the heat seeking capabilities of the
equipment couldn't be blocked. There was plenty of wildlife, but so far none of the two-legged
variety.
"Fear." Her voice was flat, tight.
"How strong is it?" God, he hated this. He could feel her hesitancy. her instinctive rejection of the
emotions trying to bombard her.
"Probably mine," she answered with resignation. "I'd rather face the Coyotes and bullets than try this."
"Let's move in closer. I can't detect any hidden life signs. If they're here, they're below."
The Coyotes wouldn't anticipate their arrival from above. They would expect them to take the same
course into the canyon that Megan would have taken on patrol.
"There're several ways into the canyon from here." She kept her voice lowered as little by little she
forced the mental blocks to recede.
It wasn't easy for her. He could feel the struggle she was waging to drop them, to allow her sensitive
brain to pick up whatever emotions leaked
from the canyon below. They were there; he could feel them, just as he could feel the presence of the
Coyotes.
"We'll stay high for now." Bending low, they moved from the shelter of the thick trees, staying
parallel to a mass of boulders that appeared to have been dropped like a child's marbles along the top
of the canyon.
Megan moved along the edge of the thick pine growth, thankful for the cover of brush as she moved
closer to the area where she would have been most vulnerable during patrol.
She couldn't feel the presence of the Coyotes. The dark malevolence that was so much a part of them,
the thirst for a blood, was absent. She knew them now, knew the feel of them, the smell of them.
She was aware of Braden moving behind her. The sense of calm, the shield that normally reached out
to her wasn't there now. The absence of it sent her pulse racing; the knowledge that she was mentally
on her own was almost frightening.
She couldn't feel the Coyotes but the tendrils of violence that reached out from the canyon floor had
her chest tightening. Rage. Fear.
She breathed in roughly, fighting to allow it in, to sift past the rage and anger for the core of the
emotion. There was always a core. A driving reason behind the pain. But at this distance it would be
next to
impossible to detect.
"Mark and Aimee had been here. They knew the Coyotes were following them," she said, her voice
rough as she felt him behind her.
He was tense as he covered her. The shields he had allowed her to use before weren't available, but
there was something else, a connection, a sense of energy pouring from him into her.
"Let's move back, work our way to the canyon floor and see if there's anything there. Maybe the
distance between here and the entrance they used is still too much."
God, she could feel them already, distant though they were. The shadowy impressions of emotion
clenched her chest as the overwhelming grief, the bottomless pit of rage and pain, sought her out. Why
had those Breeds been here? What had they wanted from her?
They backtracked quietly. As they neared the upper edge of the cliffs, Megan pointed out the steep
trail that led to the canyon floor. The weaving path led between boulders, scrub pine and a multitude
of brush.
It wasn't the safest route, but it was relatively secure.
"I'll go ahead of you." Braden paused at the top of the path, glancing
back at her, his gaze darker, filled with concern.
"Are you doing okay?"
She nodded stiffly. Dropping her barriers, ineffective though they were, was still hard. It wasn't
something she was used to doing and her mind was rioting at the vulnerable position she was placing
herself in.
"How did you learn to use your shields? she asked.
"Most of it is natural instinct. Animals have the ability to sense emotion, to sense danger, while
remaining unaffected by it. They know it's there. My abilities are stronger than many of the other
Felines. I can drop my shields and sense emotion without feeling it, but I can't pick up specifics. I can
pick up the fact that there was death, pain, rage or danger. But I can't sift through the emotions to reach
the secrets."
"And what makes you think I can? She tried to regulate her breathing, to hold back the fear that
reached out to her and weaved through her consciousness.
"Observation." He paused at a particularly steep stretch of the path before moving to the left several
feet in search of surer footing. "And the fact that I can feel you drawing on my shields. It stands to
reason that you could also draw on my abilities and pick up more."
"To increase them." She paused as she stared back at him. "You're going to increase what's already
there."
Breathe. In. Out.
She could handle it. She would kill him later, but for now, she could handle it. Do the job; that was
the important part. The rest she could tackle later.
"I'll be here with you, Megan." He turned, his expression still, almost blank. "We'll work on it
together. We'll balance each other. I promise."
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