“What are you trying to say, damn you?” She snapped, tired of this game. “What has Rule done?”
Oh God, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t sacrifice himself in such a way, would he?
“It’s what your parents have done, Ms. McQuade,” he snarled. “And what that Breed is willing to do to save you the pain of their judgment and punishment. Under Breed Law, any human or Breed attempting to bring a nano-nit device into any area marked as Breed Secure invites punishment by death under Breed Law. What would Rule do to save you the pain of watching your parents die for attempting to threaten the infant child of the director of Breed Affairs when they brought in a nit programmed to activate, and record, upon the sound of a child’s innocent voice?”
No. No, her parents would not do that.
But they had. She knew her mother, and she knew her mother would do anything if Kandy were threatened, to protect her. And everyone knew Kandy was her parents’ weakness.
What would Rule do?
She stared up at the Breed in horror, watching his green eyes go from frozen to fiery in a heartbeat before they once again iced over as though the heated fire of rage had never touched them.
“What would your parents do, if they believed you would face that punishment rather than your mate?” he asked then.
The elevator doors slid open into a conference room filled with Breeds. Across from her, Rule stood as a wide flat screen monitor showed her parents, amplified her mother’s voice and the pain-filled accusation that opened Gypsy’s soul like a scalpel and left her emotions, the anger, fear and self-rapacious guilt, to flood her system like a tidal wave that destroyed everything in its wake.
“Mrs. McQuade, did you not admit to bringing a stealth device into—”
“I did,” Greta cried out painfully. “I told you I did.”
“And if I told you that your daughter will be punished—for the rest of her days, she will know a hell unlike anything you could imagine in payment for your crimes unless you divulge the name of the person or persons who aided you in this—would you then give us the information we require to prosecute them instead?”
“What? What are you saying?” Hansel shook his head, obviously fighting to understand the implications of what Jonas was saying.
“I am saying, Mr. McQuade, that should your daughter accept a statute of Breed Law that allows her to bear your punishment for your crimes, would you willingly allow her to do so? Would you allow her to suffer, in pain, in isolation, for the rest of her life to protect whoever set you on this course of action? Or would you give us the answers to the questions that were submitted to you when you were first detained for attempting to bring that damnable device into what is effectively my damned home and risking not just my life, but my wife’s and my child’s?” he demanded, the rage building in his voice with each word.
“No . . . you can’t do that,” Hansel whispered in horror and disbelief.
“She hasn’t been our daughter since the night she helped those bastards kill my son,” Greta sobbed, her expression twisting in agony as each Breed watched her in shell-shocked silence. “My daughter died with him that night.”
“No, Greta.” Hansel stared at his wife in horror as she voiced the rage she carried toward a child who had played no part in the horror she had suffered as well.
“You know it’s the truth,” Greta sobbed, all but hysterical. “All that mattered then was the next party, and that’s all that matters to her now. The next party, the next wild drunken night and trampy two-bit Breed she can fuck. That’s how she honors the brother who died because of her stupidity.” Her eyes suddenly shot past Jonas, horror filling her face as Hansel McQuade’s followed. Her father’s eyes suddenly filled with tears as they met Gypsy’s through the two-way video monitor.