Rule Breaker by Lora Leigh Read Online Free

For the self-proclaimed Sluts at the optometrist's office, UO.

Thanks for the wonderful conversation on books, tight male butts and hijacking room keys. You know the md's office is a good one when you leave laughing and ready to write.

And to you, the readers, for loving the Breeds.

Thanks for the e-mails, the encouragement and the continual push for more than in the series. I hope y'all go along to enjoy the books, and keep demanding more.

THE WORLD OF THE BREEDS

They're not shifters or werewolves.

They are experiments in genetic engineering. Created to be super soldiers and the advanced lab rats needed to research new drug therapies for the human population.

They weren't created to exist free.

They weren't even created to live.

They existed to serve the men and women who created them, tortured them, filled them with rage and a hunger for liberty.

Now they're gratuitous, they're living and they're setting the world, and their mates, on fire.

For a glossary of Brood terms, please flip to the back of the book.

PROLOGUE

GYPSY RUM MCQUADE, Historic period Xv

Gypsy stared at the file her Coyote abductors had possessed. Stained by dirty fingers, the edges wrinkled, pictures half sticking out of it. The file lay on the wood box in forepart of the rough pallet of sleeping bags she sat on, its very presence a testament that what had happened had not been a mistake.

Atop the pictures sticking out of the manila file was the most loathsome. The weak link, they had called her. The one their contact had assured them would practice something stupid enough to allow her to be caught.

It was a film of her.

A picture of her, then one of her brother, Marker.

Laughing Mark, with his night light-green eyes, lite brownish hair and everready grin.

His picture was beneath hers, forth with pictures of her sister, Kandy Sweet, and her parents, Hansel and Greta McQuade. Thank God they were out of town, out of reach . . . out of danger. At present she wished she had gone with them, wished she had begged her parents to take her with them rather than staying behind because of that damned party.

Her abductor, Grody, had snickered and told her that she was known to be her blood brother's only weakness. Poor Mark, he'd sighed. To have such a liability must exist a terrible expletive.

She wouldn't have been such a liability if she had just gone with her parents every bit they had asked.

"Gypsy?" A Breed, taller than the others who now filled the cavern, spoke her name softly.

Jonas.

He was Jonas Wyatt.

He was the director of the Agency of Breed Affairs.

He and his Breeds had saved her.

In those seconds just before the Coyote would have raped her, she had seen the Breed who had come in with him and fired the shot that killed Grody as other Breeds fired on Grody's companions.

But they hadn't arrived in time to save Mark.

She stared up at Jonas, her eyes sore, her throat raw from screaming.

Her face hurt where the Coyote had hit her, and the residue of her torso was bruised and aching, simply none of it compared to how bad it hurt inside her heart. There was no agony that could come shut to the agony of losing the ane person in the world who had loved Gypsy Rum McQuade, just because she was Gypsy Rum McQuade.

Gypsy knew she should thank Jonas and his Breeds for coming when they did, but at that moment, all she wanted to do was hate him for not being there sooner.

She couldn't hate him, though.

She had seen the grief, the pain in his eyes as he and the other Breeds had torn the expressionless Coyotes from where they had fallen effectually her.

At least she was covered now.

The Brood who had killed the Coyote preparing to rape her had been there when the dead Breed had been dragged from her. He'd obviously stripped off his T-shirt chop-chop. He was bare chested beneath his tactical vest, the black shirt commonly worn with the mission uniform in his hand. He'd shoved it into a female Breed's hands and ordered her harshly to become it on her equally his mesmerizing gaze had touched hers, the blue spreading beyond his eyes, filling fifty-fifty the whites for the briefest second earlier they were normal once again.

Or perhaps she had but imagined the completely blue orbs. She wished she had just imagined the remainder of the nighttime.

The shirt was fashion too big for her, merely it covered her. And information technology was warm, warm enough that her teeth weren't chattering anymore. The scent that clung to it wrapped around her, and it comforted her. She wouldn't take thought anything could comfort her at present, allow alone a long black T-shirt with the Bureau of Breed Affairs insignia on the left breast that smelled a little bit like chocolate and peppermint.

It was like invisible arms wrapped effectually her, and she imagined it was all that kept her from just drifting away and not existing anymore.

The warmth of the shirt, the softness of it, enclosed her. Like a wall around her. A shield that kept away the world.

At to the lowest degree for now.

Maybe, in this shield, she idea, she could find a way to merely slip back to that time when the nightmares didn't exist anymore.

"I want to go home." She hadn't meant to say the words. They seemed such a travesty. But maybe, there she could find a way to brand it better.

She wanted to detect a way to brand this night not be and to bring her brother'due south laughter dorsum.

She wanted to just get to sleep and not have to ever wake upward once more. Maybe so, she could but dream. She could dream of what life was like before she'd slipped out of the house to become to a party that didn't really matter.

Distantly, in some unfocused part of her mind, she wondered if that was how these Breeds had felt when they were held convict? Tortured?

God, how had they kept fighting? Kept trying to survive?

Had they simply found a identify in their heads where the pain hadn't happened yet? Could she exercise that as well?

"You lot can go home presently, Gypsy. A heli-jet's picking your parents up at present," Jonas bodacious her.

The news jerked her out of her numbness for a moment. She flinched at the surge of agony that pierced her soul.

Oh God, how was she going to face her parents?

The fact that they were coming wasn't of any comfort to her. They would come hither to get her.

They would see Mark'south body in the clay outside the cavern.

They would run across the blood that had soaked into the footing and stained the easily of the huge Coyote Breed who had killed him.

The blood that had been smeared over her face and breasts every bit the Coyote'due south laughter shredded her soul.

Those Coyotes were all dead now, she reminded herself desperately. They couldn't come back. They couldn't injure anyone anymore.

It wasn't plenty compensation for the loss of her brother, though.

Null she could ever practise would make upwards for the mistake she had made.

She heard Jonas'southward heavy sigh a few seconds before he picked up the file she'd been focused on, and then sat on the box and stared at where she sat—where the Coyote had been killed.

Turning her head away from him, she tried to ignore him.

She tried, tried so hard to just wish information technology all away.

Tightening her arms around her knees, she huddled closer to the wall, wishing she could cry.

If she could cry, mayhap her breast would stop pain so bad.

Mark ever told her that sometimes, simply tears could heal the heart and soul. He would tell her to cry whenever she needed to; that manner, she would always exist sweet and innocent and he would always try to find a way to brand the tears all ameliorate.

Maybe if she started screaming and crying, if she begged God hard plenty, loud enough, then it would all just be some horribl

east nightmare.

Oh God, she merely wanted it to stop hurting. It was similar an iron band tightening around her heart and her ribs, constricting her breathing and making information technology difficult for her heart to beat.

Maybe her heart would just end beating. Hope flared inside her for a 2nd.

Maybe someone would accept mercy on her and kill her also.

She was trying and then difficult to exist brave, as Marker had told her to exist, fifty-fifty though he'd told her for so many years that it was his job to be brave, and her job to cry and exist sweet.

But now he wanted her to be brave. He'd told her not to cry.

It was the last thing he'd asked her to practice.

"Gypsy, I need to inquire you some questions," Jonas told her gently, watching her with a heavy sympathy that sickened her.

She didn't deserve his sympathy.

She didn't deserve anyone'southward forgiveness.

Least of all this Breed'due south.

Or her parents'.

Even Mark'due south.

"Information technology was my fault," she told Jonas, staring into the dorsum of the shadowed cave now, her gaze unfocused, her need to escape threatening to overwhelm her. "It's all my fault."

"No, sweetheart, information technology wasn't your fault." From the corner of her eyes she could see him wiping his hand over his head, the short strands of his black hair gleaming in the low light of the cave. "None of this was your fault."

Oh, but how very incorrect he was. It was all her error.

She was childish, and her temper had done far more than than only go her in trouble this fourth dimension. This time, it had destroyed the person she loved more than anything.

"I wanted to go to the political party," she tried to explicate, but even to her own ears, the alibi was then stupid. So immature.

Why had that party been so important?

"Gypsy, what happened here wasn't your fault." His deep voice was rough, and she bet he managed to convince a whole lot of people of a whole lot of lies.

But he couldn't convince her of that lie.

"I slipped out of the house. My friend Khileen was picking me upward. She lives in the desert." Khileen Langer was from England.

She and her family were staying in New United mexican states on her stepfather's desert estate, where they were visiting for the summer. She liked Khileen. Liked the way the other girl was e'er laughing and daring her to have fun. To non be and then serious.

She couldn't ever let anyone convince her of that once more.

"There was this party," she connected, forcing herself to speak. "And a ring and everything that some college boys were having in the desert. I merely wanted to go run into my friends, and the ring."

And perhaps drink a little.

Possibly flirt with some of the boys from school.

"Then you left for the party?" he asked her.

Her breathing hitched and she shuddered.

Information technology was like her soul was crying, but she couldn't cry herself because Marking had asked her not to.

"He was aroused at me for some reason." Her fists clenched in the material of the shirt as her lips trembled and she hugged her knees closer to her breasts. "We had a deal." She rocked against the agony called-for brighter inside her. "I would e'er tell him if I was going to a party and he would make sure he was in that location, so he could . . ." The whimper that escaped her surprised her. "And then he could make certain I didn't get in problem or get hurt."

"But yous didn't tell him yous were going?" he asked then.

Gypsy frowned. "I did. I tried, merely he yelled at me." Why had Mark yelled at her? "He told me to just get away, that I was irritating him." She stared into the darkness intently. Why hadn't Mark ever told her that she irritated him? She would have tried to stop. She actually would have. "Mark has never yelled at me before."

He had always loved her, e'er been patient with her.

"Were you aware your brother was in trouble?" he asked her then. "Did he tell yous there were Coyotes searching for him? That the Genetics Quango had identified him and sent a squad to ensure that he couldn't steal the information he was hacking into anymore? That they were looking for him this evening?"

She turned to him slowly, blinking back in defoliation. "I swear I didn't know. Mark was just acting so weird. He wanted me to stay in my chamber and he wouldn't talk to me. He was being sharp and didn't want to be bothered. And he wouldn't heed to me when I tried to tell him I only wanted to get to the party. He wouldn't let me tell him anything."

She was going to throw up. She didn't desire to movement. She didn't want to have to notice a place to throw up in privacy. Marker hadn't acted frightened or scared or worried. He'd been very, very angry, though, and he was snapping at her whenever he defenseless her out of her sleeping accommodation and ordering her back into information technology.

He'd hurt her feelings and made her angry at him. She'd decided to just go without telling him. He wasn't talking to her, why should she talk to him?

"So how could y'all have known what would happen?" he asked, and the question sounded reasonable, but she knew it didn't matter.

She shook her head in confusion once more before laying it against the rough stone wall beside her caput. Mark had no uncertainty come to try to salvage her every bit presently equally the Coyote had managed to get hold of him.

He'd have come straight to the desert, knowing he was going to die. He would accept known he couldn't save her, or himself.

He should have just saved himself.

"Is Khileen okay?" she asked the Breed who still watched her thoughtfully. "She was then scared. She got abroad, though. When that Coyote pulled me out of the car, she was trying to get information technology back into gear after they forced usa to cease. She's not used to a manual shift yet."

Her friend had managed to salve herself, merely she hadn't been able to exercise so before the Coyote had forced Gypsy out of the petty sports car her friend had picked her up in.

She didn't blame Khileen.

She was thankful her friend had gotten away. Information technology was bad enough that Gypsy had gotten her own blood brother killed. If she had gotten Lobo Reever's stepdaughter killed, and then Jessica Reever, her female parent'due south all-time friend, would never have forgiven her mother.

Her mom would need her friend when she realized what Gypsy had done.

"Khi'due south fine," he promised her. "If it hadn't been for her, we would accept never known where to notice you. Nosotros were at her stepfather'southward ranch trying to find your brother when she made the call to him."

Gypsy remembered her friend had said that her mother and stepfather had some kind of Breed company. A delegation from the Breed community or something.

Oh God, what was she going to do? Her parents were coming, and they didn't similar putting up with her anyway. How many times had her mother laughingly told Marking how easy it would exist to just become a babysitter when she was little? Or how easily she could simply stay past herself after she turned xiii?

They had wanted Mark to do stuff with them. Things that they said Gypsy wouldn't arrange well to. How could her sister arrange simply Gypsy couldn't, she'd wondered.

This was why, she reminded herself cruelly. Because she was stupid and she did bad things.

How was she going to tell her parents what she had done this fourth dimension? How was she ever going to explicate to Kandy how selfish she had been?

That she'd sneaked out to get to a party when Marking was in such danger?

Her parents were going to detest her.

Mark was their merely son, and though they oft said they loved all their children, it was Marking they were best friends with. He was the i they had so much pride in.

Because he was strong and smart and never lied or sneaked out of the house. Just whenever Gypsy did, he was always at that place, watching her, protecting her.

He wouldn't be there anymore.

All the security she had ever known in her life was gone at present.

"I want to dice." She wanted to shut her eyes and just go away. "I wish they had but killed me first."

If they had killed her, so she wouldn't take to fac

e what she had done. And she wouldn't have to live her life without Mark in it.

"Look at me, Gypsy." The demand in his voice was impossible to deny, but she was so tired that turning her head to run into his gaze seemed to take forever.

The gentleness in his expression, the sympathy and regret that filled those silvery eyes, urged her to believe him, commanded her to obey him.

"Y'all tin't die, Gypsy, you have a far besides interesting time to come alee of you," he said, glancing to her side for the briefest second earlier focusing on her once once again.

An interesting future? No, there was no interesting time to come. There would e'er exist the memory of the horrible mistake she had made.

"I don't desire an interesting future," she answered him mechanically, stepping eagerly into the strange, unemotional shell she could feel beginning to wrap around her. "I merely desire Marker to come back."

Yes, she opened herself to that heavy weight, urged it to cover her quickly, to dim the agony resonating through her soul, simply a fiddling bit.

Jonas grimaced, rubbing at the side of his cervix in a gesture of helplessness that she was certain was a completely conflicting feeling for someone so strong.

"Your brother was 1 of our all-time informants," he finally told her, and though she hadn't known that, she wasn't surprised. Mark had so admired the Breeds and all they had been forced to practice to survive. "He was a high-level hacker who had establish a fashion into their computers and was feeding united states data on hidden labs and the identities of the Council's scientists and managing to steal dozens of their top-secret files," he continued equally she watched him. "He refused to let us protect him. He refused to even let us know who he was. We were here because we had tracked him this far, unaware that the Council had managed to do the aforementioned and then quickly. They would accept found him whether you lot had slipped out of the house or not. The fact that you lot had slipped out and were with Khi is all that saved you, honey. No one could have saved your blood brother."

He was wrong.

Marking was smart.

If it hadn't been for her stupidity, he would have found a way to salvage himself.

She shook her caput. "He was going to get out. I heard him on the phone the terminal time I tried to talk to him. He was telling someone he'd encounter them in a few hours. He had to end something." If she hadn't left the house—

If the party hadn't seemed so important at the time, her brother would still be alive.

She was only barely enlightened of Jonas rising to his feet and moving away from her. Seconds later she could hear the sound of his voice as he spoke to someone.

She was shaking equally she fought to push back the retentiveness of her brother's death. How he'd stared at her, his dark optics bleak and filled with hopelessness. And helplessness, as he told her how sorry he was.

He was sorry? Why had he been sorry? It had been her fault.

The Coyote had laughed at him. Standing behind her blood brother, that large knife against Mark's throat, he'd laughed at Mark, then told him what they were going to do to her after he was expressionless.

She had begged them not to injure Mark. She didn't intendance if they killed her. She didn't care, every bit long as they just let him go.

"Don't weep, Gypsy," he told her every bit that Coyote, Grody, had laughed at him. "Don't weep, and be brave, Peanut. Exercise y'all hear me? Don't cry. Be brave, Peanut."

She had heard him, merely still, she had watched that knife bring blood and she had screamed. Screamed and begged, Please don't hurt him.

The knife had bitten into Marking's throat, blood welling at the side of his neck, and then there was a long, bright cerise line of dark red that began to menses with sickening speed as the Coyote released his body. Mark had fallen to the ground as though in slow motion, boneless, his gaze locked with hers, dimming, so finally staring back at her with a blank look of sorrow.

She jerked, her optics flight open as she realized she had allow them close.

She just wanted to become to sleep.

She wanted to slumber for a very, very long time. Long enough that perchance her mom and dad would forgive her. Maybe her babe sister, who loved Marker but every bit much as Gypsy did, wouldn't hate her forever.

Only every fourth dimension she closed her eyes she could see that moment when Mark had died. That 2d when his blood had spilled down the front of his white shirt.

"Your parents volition be here soon." Jonas spoke from beside her once again. "My squad has just loaded them into the heli-jet."

They would be here soon.

They would exist and so angry with her.

Oh God, what if they didn't let her go home? What if they didn't even want her anymore?

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