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the danger it could later represent.
    And Creed couldn’t afford to lose the only woman who had made him feel . Who made him realize he was more than just a Breed. She made him realize there might be a chance, however small, that he could be a man as well.
     

THREE

    She managed to slip away from him.
    A growl slipped past his throat as one of his human partners gave a loud, exaggerated cough before turning to stare at him in shock. They were standing in the center of Kita’s bedroom as her father braced his arms on her opened balcony door.
    “I paid you to keep this from happening.” Horace Engalls turned on them as though it were their fault she had escaped. “You were to protect her.”
    “We were hired to keep anyone from getting to her. You didn’t inform us she would end up running away,” Creed pointed out.
    “She’s always slipping out,” Horace snarled back at him, his brown eyes flickering with red rage. “You knew that.”
    “And we’ve always been aware of the nights that was happening,” Creed replied with far more calm than he felt. “She’s obviously far quieter than her friends have been when they’ve picked her up.”
    When it came to stealth, those women were like children in a candy store. All big eyes, giggles, and feminine charm.
    “She’s been taken then.” A tremor vibrated through Horace’s voice as he wiped his hands over his face. “God, they’ve taken her.” He lifted his head, his eyes damp now with a father’s tears. “Who could have taken her?”
    To feel pity for this man went against everything Creed knew of him. Yet, the pity was there. In Horace Engalls’s face, his eyes, his scent, there was only love and fear for his child.
    “We’ll find out,” he promised, knowing she hadn’t been taken. She had run.
    The slap to her face the day before, two years of seclusion and fear, and she had had enough.
    It would no doubt relieve Horace’s mind to know this, but Creed had a far different agenda than bringing her home.
    “How will you find out?” Horace swallowed tightly, visibly shaking now as the fear began to coalesce inside him. “There’s no ransom note. There’s nothing.”
    “But there will be,” Creed assured him. He turned to the two men working with him. “Stay here, put a tap on the phone. I’ll see what I can find out and report back.” Turning back to Horace, he hardened his expression and his voice. “Stay here by the phones. Someone will call, and I doubt it will take long. The moment you hear something, one of my men will contact me.”
    He turned his back on the father and moved quickly down the hall to his own small suite and the leather bag he kept packed for emergencies.
    A change of clothes, weapons, ammo, and a small medical kit were included. Pulling leather riding pants, a black long-sleeve shirt, and a leather jacket out of the closet, he tossed them on the bed before reaching for the black riding boots.
    He was dressed and moving down the steps in five minutes flat. He ignored the three men walking into the study: Horace and the two human enforcers assigned to Covert Operations with the Bureau of Breed Affairs.
    The lethal black, specially designed motorcycle sat innocently in the drive. Its frame was based on one of the less powerful touring cycles, but every aspect of its functionality had been adapted with Breed technology. Straddling it quickly, Creed pulled the full-face helmet over his head, strapped it beneath his chin, then started the ignition with a flick of his fingers.
    Before pulling from the drive, he set the helmet to full security mode and then spoke into the voice-activated controls.
    “Activate Engalls, Kita, tracking protocol on all tags.”
    The digital display came up on the inside of the visor as the computer answered. “All vehicles presently accounted for, and all but one deactivated and located in the main garage. Vehicle three is being tracked through both automotive tracking as well as electronic tag