“I warned you destiny could not be avoided,” he reminded her.
She watched as he moved to the sitting area to the side of the bed. His wings lifted, parted and spread out of the back of the seat as he sat down and leaned back comfortably.
“And I warned you I’m damned good at avoidance,” she snorted, moving closer to lean against the side of a nearby chair. “I assume you’re here with an update on our project rather than to gloat?”
Their project.
She’d made a promise to herself the night she’d entered Claire Martinez’s life. A promise that one day she’d reunite Honor with the momma and daddy she’d cried for before she too had stepped into another girl’s life.
Honor had been finding more of herself by the day before she and her mate, Stygian, had moved to the small Breed Secure ranch just outside Window Rock. Unlike what had happened with Cat, Honor Roberts hadn’t surfaced in Liza Johnson’s consciousness until recently. How much she remembered now, Cat wasn’t certain, but before she’d entered the secure grounds of the ranch, she’d remembered enough to begin checking on her parents.
The promise Cat had made hadn’t been forgotten either.
“I am here with an update,” he acknowledged. “But is this still the best time to begin the reunion? Perhaps after you’ve settled into this new life you are beginning . . .”
Cat shook her head, determination tightening through her.
“No, it has to be now,” she insisted. “It’s time, Keenan. It can’t wait any longer.”
If she waited, she might not be there to see it through.
He nodded slowly, his gaze still far too intent to suit her.
“Have you made contact with General Roberts yet?” she asked rather than giving him time to ask her whatever the hell it was he had on his mind.
“I have,” he said. “The meeting is in two nights’ time at midnight. I will collect you from here and fly you to the meeting site, then return you.”
“Cool, I get to fly again.” She grinned, though the excitement she’d once felt for the experience was no longer there.
The quirk of Keenan’s lips left the suspicion that he knew she’d somehow lost the anticipation that had once risen inside her.
“Have I told you, Cat, that your aid has been invaluable to me and those I protect?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Should you ever have need of our protection, you have only to ask it of us.”
Pushing her hands into the pockets of the jeans she wore, Cat shook her head slowly. “You don’t need my problems, Keenan. Besides”—she rolled her eyes mockingly—“it’s not as if Graeme would physically hurt me.”
“Sometimes the scars that are hidden are far more painful than those the world can see,” he said softly. “He is your fate, we both know this. But should you need time to consider the truth of fate and destiny, then I would provide you what time I could.”
“You don’t know Graeme, he’d freak . . .”
“Ah, but I know Gideon well,” he said then, shocking her to silence. “But that does not affect my knowledge of you or my gratitude for all you have done. A debt to one does not cancel a debt to the other.”
“How do you, Graeme, Jonas—all you sneaky male Breeds—always seem to know things that you shouldn’t know?” Placing her hands on her hips, she faced him in amazement. “You know about Ashley’s visit, don’t you?”
“Of course!” He actually laughed at her amazement. “The reason sneaky Breeds know so much that they should not is because they have friends just as sneaky. Remember that, Cat. Whether by debt or by loyalty, power is gained from those willing to follow one and to reveal secrets others are unaware they’ve learned.”
She shook her head slowly. “I hate Breeds.”
“You love the drama as well as the excitement each day brings now that you can join the often chaotic, but always surprising world of those who stand between worlds,” he told her, refuting her claim as he rose to his feet. “You are Breed, Cat, no matter how you were born. And when Wyatt calls Graeme’s identity into question when he can no longer cloak his Bengal scent merely reminds the director of the anomalies of Mating Heat and that the strength of your Breed scent is increasing with the emergence of your genetics. The dominant mate’s scent cloaks the other, and both change for it. Normally the male’s scent cloaks the female’s, but perhaps in this case, your rather fierce Bengal instinct is aware of the danger to your mate. That would explain why the Bengal scent would cloak a Lion’s. After all, it’s never happened before. Who is to refute it?”
As he strode to the door he slowly disappeared. Whatever the hell that black synthetic leather uniform he wore was created with, it completely shielded him, making even the huge spread of his wings invisible while flying.