Styx's Storm (10 page)

During the rescue of that lab, it was suspected that Coyote Breeds had killed JR and James Montague, possibly as Storme watched from some hidden point. Jonas was certain she must have seen it, based on the terror his Enforcers had scented on her each time they or Council Coyotes became close.

Styx would have to fight that fear to get to the bottom of the reasons why the mating heat seemed to be blocked between them. This was a problem he hadn't thought of. Hell, as far as he knew, this had never happened before. Never had a mate not been mated, yet his wasn't.

He hadn't wanted a mate. He hadn't been ready for one until he'd realized he could claim her.

Now he was determined, no matter what it took, no matter the lies he had to tell, that she would be his mate.

Leaning back, forcing himself to allow her a few fragile inches of space, he gave her what he knew was a convincing, charming grin.

"Lass," he said, forcing the brogue back into his voice. "Such stubbornness is endearing and, I must say, sexy as hell."

She stared back at him in disbelief as Jonas and Rachel narrowed their gazes on him.

"Sexy?" Confusion filled her voice.

"Aye, sexy as hell," he promised her. "I verra much look forward to seducing those secrets from you. Verra verra much."

Her eyes widened, and the terror rose and ebbed several times before he caught the faintest hint of feminine heat flavoring her scent.

He wouldn't let her forget the pleasure he had given her. He wouldn't let her forget the safety she found in his arms, nor would he allow her to resist the hunger he knew lay between them. A hunger that raged just beneath the surface and threatened to burn out of control if mating heat ever took its grip on them.

She would be his, or he would give up his chocolate for life.

Unfortunately, he feared that if his mate had her way, he might be giving up his chocolate.

As the Range Raider pulled into the receiving entrance of Haven, they pulled to a stop several feet from the light utility vehicles used within the main grounds.

Gripping Storme's arm, Styx helped her from the Raider and steered her firmly toward the lighter security vehicles. It was then his wee little mate did something he had to admit he hadn't expected, though he should have. They were at the entrance to Haven, the gates swinging open, Breeds guarding them, the flicker of lights beyond drawing his gaze. Behind them was the freedom Storme felt was her only salvation.

A salvation she wasn't yet ready to see for the illusion it was.

With a graceful twist and arc, she broke the hold he had on her arm, pulled his weapon from its holster and had it trained on his face.

Breeds moved into position silently, the click of weapons suddenly the only sound in the night as he gazed into the desperate, fear-ridden gaze glittering within her paper white face.

He looked from her to the weapon, before shaking his head in regret. "Good night, lass."

In the next breath, she crumpled in his arms, the weapon falling to the ground as he caught her. Lifting the slight burden into his arms, he gazed into the trees beyond.

He didn't see the shadowed Breeds there, he didn't see the tranquilizer that pierced the back of her neck. He had the proof they were there though, in the now sleeping form of the young woman he held in his arms, and the knowledge that she would risk certain death to escape him.

It was a hell of a position to find himself in.

CHAPTER 4

Styx stood just inside the bedroom door while Dr. Nikki Armani, the fierce, often irritable Wolf Breed expert geneticist and physician completed her examination of the young woman, as the sun began to rise over the cabin he owned within the Wolf Breed community.

He, a Wolf Breed, created to kill and to die painfully, owned a cabin. His name was on the deed. He, who hadn't been created to have even a name that he could lay claim to, claimed this cabin, a vehicle, a bank account and clothing.

And here he stood, watching as a woman slept in a bed he had never brought another woman to, and he found that the possessiveness he had once thought he felt about that bed was noticeably absent.

Styx had detected the low-grade infection from the weeks-old wound on her ankle as he held her in the hotel bed. He'd noticed the scratches on her arms and shoulders, the bruises on her ribs. The proof that the past weeks of running had taken a toll on her health.

She hadn't been eating well, she hadn't slept enough. She was on the point of exhaustion, and if he hadn't taken her when he had, then there would have been no way she could have continued to outrun the Coyotes the Genetics Council had sent for her.

"I wish I could kill every fucking Council member, soldier and scientist that was a part of this," Nikki cursed as she cleaned a particularly nasty scratch on Storme's hip. "Bastards. She's run herself to exhaustion."

"How's she doin', Doc?" he finally asked when the doctor gently tucked a quilt around her shoulders.

"She'll sleep for a while longer." Nikki tossed back the riot of heavy black braids that fell from her head to her shoulders as she rose and turned to him. "I've taken the blood and saliva samples, but until she's conscious I refuse to take the vaginal swabs I need to figure out what the hell is going on with the mating." She cast him a confused look. "I've never heard of a mating as you've described, Styx. I'm not comfortable even guessing the problem here."

Solemn dark brown eyes gleamed within the cafe au lait creaminess of her flesh as she gave a heavy sigh and began collecting the vials of samples and storing them in the heavy-duty medical case she carried with her. The medical case held samples of his own--enough blood, saliva swabs and vials of semen to create a little Styx army, he thought mockingly.

Lord love a Wolf, he'd known this woman was trouble the minute Jonas had given him the assignment to track her. When Nikki had called him back to Haven to inform him of the results of the mating tests she'd done on the girl, she had only confirmed it.

"Is there any way to fix this, Doc?" he asked on a heavy sigh, as he restrained the urge to shift the heavy erection beneath the jeans he'd changed into.

He was so damned hard his cock throbbed in near agony.

Nikki propped her hands on her hips and gazed back down at Storme for long seconds.

"I don't know, Styx," she finally sighed. "Until I do some tests and consult with the other scientists working on this, I hesitate to even guess."

Styx grimaced. "I think I'd rather face a pit of rattlers, Doc, than suffer this much longer."

It was a well-known fact within Haven that Styx hated snakes. Viperous, poisonous bastards, the mountain seemed overrun with them at times.

Styx could think of far better ways to torture himself than with an arousal that refused to relent. Though he couldn't blame it all on the mating heat. Truth be told, he'd stayed hard for the wee lass since the day he'd first caught sight of her.

With all that black hair flowing around her, those wary green eyes searching the shadows where he hid and the weariness in her too somber expression had tugged at him. He'd wanted to hold her even then. To protect her, to ease the pain he could sense just beneath the surface. Hell, what sin was he paying for, he wondered, that had nature playing this little joke at his expense? Hadn't he been a good Wolf? He'd always strived to excel, whether in killing or in loving. Yet still his mate didn't carry his mark, and the Wolf inside him was snarling in impatience.

He'd give his rather impressive canines for that brand to be in place as it should be now. For her silken flesh to be flushed in arousal, the heat of the mating making her wet and eager for his possession.

Storme Montague was his mate. She was his. The one and only woman who completed that part of him that he hadn't known hungered for such a thing.

He hadn't imagined how important it could become until he had tasted her kiss, felt her touch, and found his release in the tight, sweet grip of her silky pussy.

"I can smell your impatience and I'm not even a Breed," Nikki said, accusing him lightly. "I'll tell you what I've told the others. I've never seen mating heat react the same on any two couples. It's an anomaly, Styx. Nature is refining as she goes, and we're just going to have to deal with it. You're mating heat just may be particularly complicated, likely because of your odd genetics." She grimaced.

Complicated didn't come close, he thought with an edge of anger.

"Last I heard, lass, I was a red Wolf mixed with some fine Scots blood. Do you know something aboot my genetics the good scientists neglected to mention?"

Nikki rolled her eyes. "Of course, learning that those genetics come from one of history's greatest warriors shouldn't concern us, should it?"

He winked back at her. "One of history's greatest lovers as well, I've heard."

She snorted at that. "Watch it, Red, or I'll see if I can't mess up those fine genetics for you."

He winked flirtatiously. "You can play with my genetics any day, Doc. When are ye wantin' to start?"

At the moment, he'd much rather tease, flirt, or face those snakes than face the complications of the hard-on throbbing in his jeans.

She shook her head before her eyes did a quick, mocking roll.

"Styx, keep it up and I'm going to begin to suspect there's more human DNA in your mix than Wolf." She chided him with a tired smile before indicating the medical case, a gesture that told the assistant who accompanied her to collect everything so they could head out.

"Ah, Nikki my love," he sighed. "Such insults to my fair self. Have ye ever known a human that could compare to my rather rare talents?" He shot her a quick grin as he stepped back from the doorway to allow her to pass him.

His talents were indeed rare. His father's genetics mixed with those of the historic Robert the Bruce had created a true Scots warrior, but it had been a fine friend of his father's who had trained him in a nearly extinct, deadly form of martial arts.

His martial training had been secretive, and conducted under the good Dr. Mackenzie's eagle eye. After all, Styx and several of his litter mates had been created using the sperm and DNA of Mackenzie's dead son, and he considered them all part of his blood. So much so that he had risked death himself several times to ensure not just their safety but also their well-being.

"Chocolate-eating Breeds are a dime a dozen, Red," she quipped as she paused in the large open living area and grinned back at him. "Or do you possess talents outside of breaking into the alpha's cabins to steal their mates' chocolate?"

She damned well knew he did. Styx laughed at the apparent insult though, knowing the good doctor meant more jest than harm.

She knew the truth of his training, just as she knew he had been trained to gain information, no matter the method used to unlock the secrets.

Seduction was but one of the games he knew to attain what he wanted. There were other ways, other calculations, other routes to twist a woman's emotions and desires until a Breed gained what he had been sent for.

"That they are, love," he agreed with her. "But, ones such as I are so rare as to be all but nonexistent."

"And they need to stay nonexistent," she reminded him. "Watch yourself with her, Styx. Unlike many of your play-mates, she just may know more than any of us are comfortable with. Or much less than Jonas could hope. She's dangerous to us either way, and I'm afraid the reason the mating isn't fully present could be the fact that you suspect she can't be trusted."

Styx shook his head. That wasn't the problem and he knew it.

"I believe it's because of her." He nodded to his slumbering mate. "Perhaps the heat, the animalistic qualities of it are more than she can handle at present, Doc. She's terrified."

"She wants to be terrified." Nikki shrugged. "She knows not all Breeds are like those who killed her family, Styx. But for whatever reason she can't let go of that disc. Perhaps she uses the fear to rationalize that. A lot of our female Breeds still have that problem where socializing is concerned. They can't let go of the enforced training that punished them for it."

There were many of them, males as well as female Breeds, who had problems rising above that conditioning. Laughter, socializing, emotion had been heavily punishable offenses in the labs.

"She could be dangerous to us, Styx," Nikki warned him. "Be careful. You've claimed her. If she betrays Haven, then her punishment could be yours as well."

That was the law, technically. Though Styx knew that if his mate betrayed Haven in a manner that meant she was sentenced to die, then he would die himself trying to protect her.

She was worth the risk, he told himself. The hint of a smile he'd caught on her face the night before, the scent of gentle laughter she'd tried to hide. It was all worth it.

"But if life were lived without dangers, what adventures would we then find?" he asked Nikki as he tilted his head and stared back at her seriously. "I'll take the adventures any day, as well as the risks."

"No doubt you would." Nikki shook her head, the tiny braids swinging past her shoulders as she chided him gently. "You're too wild, Styx. Much too wild. You should discuss that with your grandfather."

His grandfather. His creator. What-the-fuck-ever, Styx thought with a hint of cynicism. His grandfather was the man who had dreamed of bringing back the dead, only to learn the value of allowing the dead to rest in peace.

"Call me if you need me." Nikki lifted her hand as her assistant opened the door and stepped from the cabin. "I'll send some vitamins and more antibiotics once I get to the office. Now let her rest. No sexual hijinks until she's stronger."

Styx grunted at the order before moving with Nikki through the cabin to the front door.

Closing the door behind her, he didn't bother to lock it just yet. It was something he rarely did, preferring instead to face the challenge that if Haven did possess spies, as Sanctuary did, they would take the dare to enter his home.

Life could be lived to the fullest or he could hide and worry himself bald about the security he felt Breeds would never know. Styx preferred to live, and he was going to have to teach his mate to do the same.

Leaning against the door frame as he stared at the fragile form beneath the quilts that covered his bed, watching her, he wondered, not for the first time, how he had managed to end up in a situation such as this.

Almost mated? He snorted at the thought and wondered who the hell to blame for it.

He finally decided on Jonas Wyatt, the infuriating director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs who had given him the job of tracking the wee lass down. No doubt, the interfering bastard was practicing his matchmaking habits again. His Enforcers swore he did it deliberately.

He crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head and pursed his lips as he considered the benefits of his investigation into an almost mating with his courageous little mate.

One damned thing was certain, he'd not be bored.

Not that he was often bored. There'd been a whole world out there to investigate and to enjoy before he found her. He had a feeling she would challenge him far more than the world ever had though.

Moving into the bedroom, he checked her temperature, tucked the blankets around her again and gazed down at her sleeping face.

She looked at peace for a change.

The tranquilizer she had been shot with hadn't been a powerful one, but the exhaustion and physical weakness had taken their toll on her.

He was betting this was this first decent sleep she'd had in years.

"She's damned pretty."

Styx swung around, his weapon clearing the holster on instinct even as he realized who spoke behind him. He cursed his apparent absorption with his mate, and accepted it at the same time, and blamed it for the fact that he hadn't heard his "grandfather" slip into the cabin.

"You're gonna get yourself killed, my friend," he informed him as he holstered the weapon just as quickly.

A single gray brow lifted as mocking amusement filled Dougal Mackenzie's expression. "I hear there's some question of the mating?" he asked as he entered the bedroom. "I met Nikki outside. She seems to think the mating heat is reacting to a distrust you have of the girl?"

Hell, the old man was going to nosy. That was just what he needed.

"Don't you have your own mate to worry about?" Styx grunted. He was still damned uncomfortable with the fact that his biological grandfather had mated one of the older Wolf Breed females.

Not that there were many of them. Animera had been in her forties when the lab she had been created in, in France, had been liberated. The small facility had housed four Breeds, all females, that were once trained and used as whores for the Council.

Animera was as beautiful as any Breed, though harder than many. Once she had met Dougal, that stony outer shell had cracked though, and the woman hiding within had emerged.

They were a good match, yet watching the man who called himself Styx's "grandfather" becoming younger as the years wore on was damned uncomfortable.

The mating phenomenon was complicated, confusing and had the potential to destroy the Breeds, especially if Dougal's unique reaction to it were ever learned.

"You're staring at me as though I'm a freak again," Dougal snapped. "Don't let's turn this into yelling match, boy."

Styx grunted. "I don't have time for you today." He moved to the door and motioned Dougal to the living room.