Tied With a Bow

Navajo Nation property.
    “She’s pretty.”
    He’d heard Ashley enter the room, but she was at his side before he’d realized she had the time to get there.
    “Thank you,” he murmured, feeling that surge of pride again.
    She was pretty. So very very fucking pretty.
    The compliment might have seemed lacking, but Malachi found no fault with it. The last thing he wanted was perfection or true beauty.
    Pretty, though, pretty was warm and compassionate. It was filled with mercy, and with gentleness. Just as his mate was filled with it.
    Everything he’d learned about her assured him that his initial perception of her was right on the money.
    “She has a loyal sister and a good friend in Liza as well,” Ashley assured him. “Neither of them were needed after the meeting started. I just had lunch with them, and neither of them are willing to discuss that scent of fear she carries. They refuse to betray her.”
    “But they admit she has reason to fear?” he asked her.
    Ashley shrugged.
    Malachi caught the movement from the corner of his eyes before turning his full attention to her.
    “Let’s say, I know the reason is there,” she told him as he glared down at her. “They’re clamming up each time I mention it, but even I can sense it, just as Stygian admits to scenting it before she left the table the night before and moved across the room to you. It was just for a second, though. As though the thought of something had frightened her.”
    He turned back to the screen that displayed the conference in the meeting room which was being held on the secured twenty-fifth floor that their rooms were on as well.
    Isabelle sat calmly at her uncle’s side as Rule argued for permission for the Bureau of Breed Affairs to conduct an official search on Navajo land and asked for the cooperation of the Navajo Nation Council in finding the rogue Breed that Rule stated they suspected was in the area.
    The truth was, they knew he was headed there, if he hadn’t already arrived. A bloodthirsty murderous Breed who had sliced a path of death and horror through the few remaining research scientists who had worked for the drug manufacturer Phillip Brandenmore before his death.
    “It’s hard to promise cooperation, Commander Breaker, when we have no idea who or what this Breed is that you search for, or his genetic ties to the Nation. You’ve also shown no proof of his crimes and are unwilling to give us full disclosure of why you believe he’s here. He must have a reason for being in our territory at this time. Added to that, you have no way of identifying this rogue Breed. It’s like asking Russia to let you into their secret service files because a murderer used a knife specific to the USSR.” Ray Martinez watched Rule closely, as though already suspecting the deception Rule was practicing.
    And how could they suspect it if they didn’t something to hide?
    “Just as it’s difficult for us to make the request, because we don’t have the information you’re requesting, Councilman Martinez. And I assure you, the rogue we’re after has had far more time to devise ways of killing his intended victims and avoiding us, unless we find a link back to him.” Rule sighed as he stared across the table at the chief of the Navajo Nation. “I’m not asking for more than I’m willing to give, sirs. We’ll keep you informed every step of the way, but we need the freedom to conduct our investigation before he kills again. And he has every intention of killing again.”
    “Who does he intend to kill? We have no Council scientists or researchers here. We have no one in the Nation who could be a target to such a man.” Orin Martinez, the Navajo spirit advisor, spoke up, his gaze a endless deep dark blue as he glanced toward the eye of the camera supposedly recording the meetings.
    For the briefest moment, Malachi had a sense that this particular human was well aware of any strange electronics around him, before focusing his attention back to the Navajo leader.
    Tall, broad, his graying black hair straight and long where it was tied back at his nape, Ray Martinez was a confident, powerful man for his age of sixty-five.
    He was in his second four-year term as chief of the Navajo Nation, and through the six years he had guided the Nation so far, he had kept the promises he had made to solidify the Nation and ensure its prosperity.
    The Nation was gaining a powerful presence in the White House as well with the Navajo senator