Dr. Armani’s expression grew thoughtful.
“She had coffee last night.” He was desperate for answers. “God damn you, do something.”
She narrowed her eyes on Anya before moving closer to the bed, ignoring the bodyguards’ growls.
“Coffee is a no-no, Anya,” she said gently.
“She was aroused when she awoke this morning.”
Anya groaned in embarrassment. “Dammit, Del-Rey.”
“She was dreaming. She wanted my kiss.” He was close to losing his mind.
“Anya?” Dr. Armani moved closer. “Have you hurt like this before?”
“Duh,” she managed weakly. “I would have been here.”
“Smart ass.” The doctor smiled fondly. “I want you to let Del-Rey take another sample of blood for me. I may have an idea.”
She moved, collected the syringe and pushed another vial onto it before handing it to Del-Rey. Swiftly Del-Rey drew the blood, tensing as he felt the pain in her rising from the loss of the pressure of his hand.
Armani moved quickly back to her lab as Del-Rey returned his hand to her stomach.
“Mate, you’re going to give me a stroke,” he sighed as he moved closer to her and brushed damp hair back from her cheek.
A weak smile crossed her pale lips. “I should get a treat for being a good girl while you took the blood.”
“Anything,” he whispered, knowing what she would ask. That she would ask to be relieved from his bed, out of his arms.
She sighed. “Get Ashley’s damned nails fixed. Her whining will drive me insane.”
“Whenever she needs it.” He caressed her hair and laid his lips at her temple. “Nails are no longer included in punishments.”
She sighed, slowly relaxing. The tension eased, bit by bit, until her muscles relaxed beneath his palm. The heat of his hand and her flesh melded them together. He swore he sweat buckets while he caressed her rounded tummy.
Finally, she breathed out in exhaustion and turned her head to Emma. “Em. I need some water.”
“Yes, Anya.” Emma rushed to the outer room as Ashley and Sharone stood by her side.
“Anya.” Del-Rey eased up.
She shook her head. She was still pale, but she wasn’t sweating and normal color was returning to her cheeks.
“Pain in the ass, Coyote,” she snorted, but there was a smile in her weak voice. “I scared you, huh?”
“Terrified the hell out of me, Coya,” he admitted.
He wasn’t supposed to kiss her. He was to keep the hormone in those glands to himself, but he wanted to kiss her. Until hell wouldn’t have it.
“Hey, Breed.” Armani’s determined voice had him lifting his head. “Open.” She shoved a swab at his mouth.
“What?” Del-Rey jerked back.
“Oral swab. Now.” She shoved the damned thing in his mouth, swiping it over his swollen glands before turning and rushing back to her lab.
“Coya, your water.” Emma moved back to the bed as Del-Rey helped her sit up and sip at the water.
“I want out of here,” Anya muttered after Del-Rey handed the cup back to Emma. “Now.”
“Not yet.” There wasn’t a chance in hell. “Stay still a while longer, Anya. You’re going no place until we figure this out.”
“I’ll live here then,” she retorted. “I want my own doctors. We need Coyote Breed specialists.”
He snorted at that. “I killed them all. Remember?”
Her expression became mutinous.
“I trust Dr. Armani. She’ll figure it out.”
“Not without a Coyote Breed specialist she won’t figure crap out,” she groaned. “What if this happens to Ashley, Del-Rey, or one of the younger twins? Sharone or Emma? How will we help them?”
“Anya, there are no Coyote specialists left. Those that were left that the Council didn’t kill, I took care of. They’re murdering bastards with a god complex. Armani will fix that.”
She eased up on the bed and glared at him. “I want our own doctor.”
“Find me one then.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “If you can find one you trust your friends with, then go for it. Have at it. But they’re all dead. Six feet under and can’t help us.”
She wasn’t going to find one. When the Russian facility was breached, the doctors that returned to the Council had disappeared, their bodies turning up one by one over the months. The Council had suspected one of them of conspiring with the rescuers, so they had killed them all.
Over the years, Del-Rey and his men had taken care of the others. If the bastards weren’t alive, then they couldn’t create more. The process wasn’t easy. Coyote Breeds were the most difficult to create and to keep alive until age five. It seemed their mates were going to be difficult in other areas as well.
“Coyote Breed mates are just different.” Armani reentered the examination room. “Amanda Bear, Kiowa Bear’s mate and wife, is the only Coyote Breed we’ve been able to test. The Felines took care of that unfortunately,” she sighed. “But they did share the results of the tests with me. Kiowa is more or less a hybrid, conceived naturally, so his genetics are slightly different, but we might have something here.”
“Meaning?”
“A hormone that only shows up when se**n has been spilled inside the womb. There’s a hormone caused by the one in your tongue that acts as a blocker to prevent conception. It quite literally forms a barrier against viable sperm. Now she has that hormone in her system because you’ve kissed, you’ve had intercourse.”
Of a sort, Anya thought sarcastically as she watched the doctor.
“It’s been eight months,” Anya pointed out. “I’ve never hurt like this before, Dr. Armani.”
“Because you’ve not been in contact with him,” she stated. “Your hormonal levels are showing steady. But I wasn’t looking for that additional hormone, as you weren’t having sex. Were you?”
“No,” Del-Rey growled.
Anya gave him a hooded look. Maybe if she bought him an instruction book. Surely he could learn more than doggie style if he saw the pictures? Of course, knowing male Breed training as she did, he probably knew all the moves. He just hadn’t practiced them on her.
“Okay, so, this hormone just dropped off the radar, but it wasn’t gone.”