FIVE

Haley's bedroom door opened slowly, and Noble

stepped into the room.

She stared at him from her bed, watched the way

the dim light from her lamp followed and loved the

hard, strong angles of his face.

His thick black hair fell to his shoulders and

framed the hard, sharp contours of his face. High

cheekbones, deep-set, slightly tilted eyes, and a strong,

sharp nose. He could never be called handsome, not

really. Noble was anything but a pretty boy. He was a

man, rugged, tough, certain of himself and his abilities

to the point that his confidence gleamed in his black

eyes.

She remembered, several months before, the report

that he had been wounded on a mission. He had been

away from Sanctuary for several long weeks. She had

waited, and she had worried, and she had promised

herself that the next time she saw him, she would push

past the wariness inside herself and do something

about this "almost" relationship they seemed to share.

Yet, when he had returned, she had retreated

again. And it wasn't that she lacked confidence, or

even daring. Everyone knew Haley could be daring.

No, there was something else that had held her back, a

certainty, a knowledge that any woman who took

Noble on would be taking on much more than a lover.

And there was always the chance that the "mating-

heat" rumors and gossip trash stories in the rags had

enough truth to them to be dangerous. Haley was a

great believer that where there was smoke, there was

fire. And where there was Noble, things would

naturally get hot.

She flinched as he closed the door quietly behind

him, still watching her, his black gaze cool and

shuttered.

"You're not supposed to be here," she told him. "I

asked you to leave."

"Are you that anxious to die, Haley?" He leaned

against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Strange, I never saw you as a quitter."

His lips quirked at one corner as she stared back at

him silently.

"You can't run, and you can't hide. Not from this."

She was already realizing that. That didn't mean it was

any easier to accept.

"Jonas can assign someone else to protect me then,"

she told him. "I don't want you here."

She wanted him with a need that sometimes

bordered on a craving. From that first meeting a year

before, when he had walked into the library, she had

known a need for him unlike anything she had known

for anyone else.

And her need was going to cause complications,

she could feel it. She had made the mistake years

before of having a short affair with Zane until he

realized his need for the job was stronger than his

need for a woman. But that relationship had taught

her how to spot a problem male. And Noble was

definitely a problem male.

"I'm your best bet to stay alive," he told her.

"And what was Jason?" she asked, her tone biting.

"You didn't even warn me you had anyone else

watching me. He died needlessly."

"All breeds die needlessly," he informed her

roughly. "It's a war out there, Haley, and you're smack

in the middle of it now. Get that in your head. You

will not survive alone. You will not survive without

me. Period. Until we figure out what the hell

happened, you're stuck with me."

She came off the bed, denial raging inside her.

"Find someone else. I told you, I don't want you

here."

"And I told you, sorry 'bout your luck," he snarled,

those wicked, wicked canines flashing at the sides of

his mouth.

Haley fantasized about those teeth sometimes.

Fantasized about watching them rake over her breasts,

nip at them. Sometimes she dreamed of them at her

neck, her shoulder, biting against her, holding her in

place as he took her.

The animalistic quality of those dreams had always

shocked her to her core and left her wet and hungry

for days on end.

As she faced him, she felt that arousal, a constant

companion anytime he was near, and forced herself to

back away from him.

"You act as though all you need to do is place

distance between us to alleviate the sweet smell of

your hunger for me," he bit out, shocking her. "Do you

think I can't smell your desire a mile away?"

She shook her head. She couldn't face this tonight,

not on top of the blood and death that surrounded her.

She felt as though her body and her soul were stained

with guilt.

"This is why you can't be here," she whispered.

"I'm not stupid, Noble. I'll distract you, and you'll end

up dead."

He shook his head and moved closer. Just a few

steps, just enough to warn her that he wasn't going to

pay attention to her.

"We'll definitely distract each other," he promised

her, his voice low, vibrating with lust. "There's no help

for it. And that will be our advantage."

She shook her head fiercely. "It's not an advantage.

You know better than that."

She backed farther away from him, jerking in

surprise as she came against the wall behind her. She

watched, her breathing harsh, heavy as he came closer,

stalking her, his expression becoming intent, heavy

with hunger.

"You're my mate, Haley," he told her, his voice

heavy. And it didn't sound like a good thing. It

sounded much too close to the stories that were

devoured in the magazines that featured the breeds

prominently, with stories of lust-crazed hungers and

desires that defied believability.

"I can't handle this from you," she whispered, as he

came closer, almost touching her, his chest inches from

the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as she stared up at

him beseechingly. "Can't you see that, Noble? I can't

deal with fairy tales tonight, or with you here."

"And I can't deal with another man watching over

you." He reached out and touched her cheek, his

knuckles rasping over it.

He rarely touched her. In the year he had been

coming to the library, she could count on one hand

how many times his skin had actually touched hers.

"Do you know what a mating is?" His head

lowered until his lips caressed her ear.

Haley let her head rest against the wall, her body

feeling weak now while the blood began to pump hard

and heavy through her body.

"The tabloids," she whispered. "They're not true."

"Not precisely." He rubbed his cheek against her.

The curiously gentle stroke of his cheek against

hers did more to her than she could have imagined

possible. Her lashes drifted closed, sensual weakness

invaded her body as her sex began to heat, to clench

with empty need.

"Not precisely?" she whispered, as his head lifted,

and he stepped back slowly. "What does 'not precisely'

mean, exactly?"

"It means, soon, you'll find out, there's no escaping

me, Haley. And there's no escaping what you need

from me. Soon."

He stepped back farther. "You need to rest. The

next few days won't be easy for you, and I don't want

to complicate that. But there's no forcing me out of

here, there's no running from me any longer. We will

see this through together."

Haley bit back her protests. She had been raised by

her Scottish father and two older brothers, she knew

male determination and arrogance, and if she wasn't

mistaken, then Noble had more than his fair share of

both.

As he left the bedroom, she slumped against the

wall and breathed out wearily. Fear was like an animal

trapped inside her, as was her grief. And like the

desire she felt for Noble, she had no idea how to

handle either emotion.

Noble stepped from the kitchen hours later, after

Haley slipped silently through the house, like a wraith

in her long white gown and robe, her soft red hair a

fiery cloud around her pale face.

He watched as she moved to the huge Christmas

tree and slowly, silently, collected two presents from

beneath it and walked to the couch.

He was careful to stay within the shadows. He knew

grief. Sometimes, a person had to be alone with it, and

sometimes a woman needed to be alone with her tears.

She opened the first, which he knew must have

been Patricia's. The finely made wrap was a blend of

russets and dark golds. He remembered that Patricia

liked darker colors.

Haley brought the wrap to her cheek, closed her

eyes, and let her tears fall. They fell to the material as

her shoulders shook, and she whispered her sorrow

against it.

Long minutes later, she smoothed the wrap over

her lap and stared at the other, smaller present in front

of het. Regret sliced across his chest. He wanted to go

to her. He needed to hold her through her pain. Yet, a

part of him sensed, knew, that for Haley to survive,

she had to say good-bye in her own way.

She reached for the box and set it on her knee as

she opened it slowly. She lifted the lid of the wide,

black jeweler's box and stared at what she had

revealed for long, silent moments.

"I'll miss you, Jason Lincoln," she whispered. "I'm

sorry you never found out what freedom truly was."

Then she set the box on the table, pulled the wrap

around her, and curled herself onto the cushions of the

couch. She stared at that box as the tears whispered

over her cheeks, and finally, just before dawn peeked

over the horizon, Haley drifted into sleep.

Noble stepped farther into the room, moved to the

table, and stared down at what she had bought Jason

Lincoln. It was a bracelet. Hammered silver and

engraved with a single word, FREEDOM. Beside the word

was a lion's paw print.

She'd known Jason wanted a Christmas present.

He wondered if she knew that the women of

Sanctuary made certain every breed had a Christmas

present at Christmas whether they wanted one or not,

whether they believed in the holiday or not.

He bent his knees, resting on the pads of his feet as

he stared at the present and at the woman. The wrap

she had bought Patricia was snug around her

shoulders, and the tracks of her tears still dampened

her cheeks.

He would give her her time to grieve because he

knew she needed it. If he allowed that to be stolen

from her, she would never walk into his arms as he

needed her to. And he needed her to do that. To come

to him. To need him. To ache as he ached and to want

as he wanted.

Shaking his head he straightened, drew the light

blanket from the back of the couch, and spread it over

her before moving to the chair beside her.

He needed a few hours to doze himself. He would

catch sleep as he could, and as a breed, he would

adapt until they caught the person who had wounded

her so deeply. And when they caught him, Noble

promised himself, he would exact vengeance for her.

Three days later, they laid Patricia to rest next to her

husband and the daughter who had gone before her.

Noble stood behind Haley through the service and the

burial, and as her pain overwhelmed his senses, he

pulled her against his chest.

Her tears soaked into his shirt, branded his flesh,

and broke his heart. He rubbed his cheek against the

top of her hair, and across the small area his gaze met

that of the sheriff's. Noble's eyes narrowed at the flash

of jealousy in the sheriff's gaze and the anger when he

looked at Noble.

There was more than friendship in that sheriff's

eyes when he stared at Haley. And perhaps hatred

when he looked at Noble.

Later, as they attended the small service held at

Sanctuary for Jason, Noble found himself frowning.

The priest who presided over the funeral was

compassionate, he didn't judge, and he spoke of

Jason's love for books and his abiding need for

freedom. The priest assured them, Jason was free now.

As they approached the casket, Noble watched as

Haley slipped the silver bracelet in beside the young

breed, and his heart clenched.

Until Sanctuary, breeds had never had a burial.

They were incinerated, turned to dust and ashes and,

in the minds of their creators, forgotten.

This ritual that nonbreeds practiced made little

sense to him, just as the ritual of Christmas still

confused him. Breeds participating in either ritual

almost seemed against the laws of nature to him. They

weren't human. They hadn't been born, and the God

that sanctioned the lives of others hadn't sanctioned

the lives of breeds.

If their lives hadn't been sanctioned, could they still

claim His benevolence?

Noble shook his head and followed Haley as she

left the small chapel. He kept his arm around her, kept

her to his chest as his team surrounded her and led her

back to the black SUV limo that would return her to

the warmth of the home she had made for herself.

Her grief was easing, but he had felt her

determination rising. She had been quiet the past few

days, but something was strengthening inside her. He

could sense it. He could feel it. And the animal part of

him stretched in anticipation.

"We need groceries," Haley stated later, as they

neared the outskirts of Buffalo Gap.

She was aware of the six breeds who rode with

them, their silence, their watchfulness. Just as she was

aware of their suspicion each time they checked to see

if Zane Taggart was still following them.

Zane wouldn't let go easy. He had imagined himself in

love with her years before, and during that brief affair,

he had driven her crazy with his protectiveness. It was

always very subtle, very warm, but he would have

tried to wrap her in cotton if they had stayed together.

And as much as she cared for Zane, the rest just

hadn't come as she had hoped it would. As he had

been certain it would. Breaking off their relationship

had hurt both of them, and she had tried to ensure that

she never placed herself in that position again.

"You can make out a list when we get to the

house," Noble stated. "Someone will deliver the items

you need."

Of course, why hadn't she thought of that?

Her fists clenched in her lap. She couldn't even risk

going to the grocery store.

"Jonas will be waiting for us at the house," he

continued. "We need to discuss what he's learned in

the past few days. He's finally managed to gather

enough information to give us an idea of what we're

looking at."

She looked up at him in surprise. "He's going to tell

me?"

"It's your life." His sensual lips tightened, and his

black eyes flared with anger. "I need you to help me

protect you, Haley. To do that, you need the same

information I do."

"At least you're not going to try to lock me in a box

then." She sighed.

The past three days had been hell. Of course her

brothers as well as her father had eventually learned

something was going on. Concerned neighbors, nosy

citizens, someone had made certain they got hold of

them.

Her father was screaming on the phone the night

before as her brothers vied to be heard over him

during the four-way call.

She still had a headache and she doubted Noble's

conversation with them had done much to allay their

concerns or their threats to head straight to Buffalo

Gap.

"It wouldn't do any good to lock you in a box,

would it?" He sounded mildly interested at the

prospect, enough so that she shot him a warning glare.

"I know how to pick locks."

His lips quirked. "Now, why didn't I guess that?"

"Probably because you were considering the box,"

she muttered.

She ignored the amusement in the breeds across

from her.

They were an interesting lot. The three in the

driver's area and the three sitting across from them.

They were hard-eyed, tough, and strong. Long hair,

numerous scars, and all of them looked like men who

could fight their way through an army single-

handedly.

And they had all put their lives on the line for her.

It was a terrifying thought. It was the reason she had

promised herself that whatever Noble needed her to

do, she would do. Because it was apparent he wasn't

going to leave. Nor would he let her leave. That didn't

mean she had to like it. And it didn't mean she had to

accept the very sensual invitation he extended each

time their eyes met.

"A box was never under consideration," he finally

admitted. "We'll find out who is behind the bombing

soon. We know the why of it, we just have to identify

the who. Once we've done that, you'll be safe. And

once you've testified at the hearing against Bracken-

more and Engalls next month, then they'll no longer

have a reason to want you dead. They'll be too busy

trying to save their own skins."

She didn't know if she agreed with him on that

one. It seemed to her that the hatred Brackenmore and

Engalls would feel toward her would be reason

enough to kill her. Thankfully for the breeds, she

wasn't the only proof they had against the pair.

"Jonas has arrived at the house," Mordecai Savant,

the Coyote breed enforcer who had arrived at

Sanctuary six months before, told Noble as he glanced

at the handheld PDA he pulled from the heavy

uniform pocket at his thigh. "It's clear. No signs of

unwanted visitors. The lions have canvassed the area,

and everything's clear."

"The lions?" She glanced at Noble again. "You have

lions at my house?"

"The natural lions can sense things we don't," he

told her. "If they hesitate, then we know there's a

problem. They're our best first defense."

"Proceed in," Mordecai told him. "Jonas is waiting

in the kitchen."

Haley had to bite her tongue to keep from

commenting on that one. No doubt he had sniffed out

her stash of cookies agairi. She was going to have to

bake more before long. Breeds could find the cookies

faster than her brothers could.

"Is he eating all the cookies?" Blade Travers could

never, in anyone's imagination, look boyish. But the

anxiety in his eyes reminded her of just that. A kid's

concern that he wouldn't get his share.

"If there are cookies around, then Jonas is going to

find them," the breed simply known as Crayven

snorted from the front seat. "And I bet Mercury, Lawe,

and Rule are taking more than their share, too."

Yes, she was going to be making more cookies

soon, she thought as she heard Noble sigh, almost

with longing beside her.

"I know how to bake more," she finally gritted out

between clenched teeth.

And why she was that insane, she couldn't

imagine.

"You would bake us more?" Mordecai's eyes

narrowed on her, as though he suspected her of lying.

She was definitely going to have to add to that

grocery list.

"I always bake at Christmas." And it seemed this

year, she was going to be baking a hell of a lot more

than she imagined.

Breeds. Why hadn't anyone warned her it wasn't

just their sharp teeth, biting words, or flare for killing

that she needed to watch out for? Someone should

have warned her to watch out for their craving for

sweets as well.

She wondered if it went to their hips as fast as it

did to hers.

She glanced at each one, then grimaced. She

couldn't get that lucky.