Home > The Breed Next Door (Breeds #6)(19)

The Breed Next Door (Breeds #6)(19)
Author: Lora Leigh

Finally he just threw up his hands as he rose from the bed and stalked to the bathroom door. If he was going to have to fight her brothers, he didn't want to smell of sex when that happened.

"I am taking a shower," he snapped. "I have a feeling I might want to be prepared for the visit I will have to endure by your family. And you are a troublemaker, Lyra. This will come back and smack you on the ass one of these days."

"Really?" Interest lit her laughter-filled gaze. "I bet it makes me wet."

He snorted. "I have no doubt, you little hellion." And before his body could overrule his mind, he forced himself into the bathroom, closing the door behind him before he joined her in the bed again instead.

As he stepped beneath the steaming water, he made a note to contact Braden and warn him to be expecting trouble. He had a bad feeling that plenty of it was now heading his way. Lyra laughed as the bathroom door closed behind Tarek and let the warmth that teasing him brought her fill her heart. She loved the look on his face. For once, the shadows that normally lingered there were gone. In their place may have been irritation or incredulity, but she had seen the happiness there as well.

She made him happy.

She sighed at the thought, an odd satisfaction filling her. Making him happy shouldn't make her feel as though she were glowing from the inside out, but it did.

And it made her want to cook. Something really incredible. Something that would make that bit of confused happiness fill his eyes once again.

She had food. Finally. It had taken her hours last night to convince him to have someone deliver the basic kitchen products as well as some real meat, rather than that stuff he nuked every day.

Yuck. That was nasty stuff.

She shook her head, rising from the bed and pulling on her gown and robe as she ignored the tenderness between her thighs. That and the pulse of desire. She had a feeling that Mating Heat or not, she could forget her response to him ever dimming. He had made her wet the first time she laid eyes on him, and she had a feeling she would be wet for him on her deathbed.

She left the bedroom, padding quickly down the stairs to the wide foyer and turning into the kitchen.

She stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened, terror rushing through her system as her knees weakened.

"Well, it looks like Tarek took a little mate," the intruder sneered, his weapon aimed at her heart. "I bet the Council will have a lot of fun with this one. After we take her Lion out, of course. The only good Feline is a dead one."

Lyra turned to run only to slam into the hard body blocking her way. The contact sent pain streaking across her nerve endings, causing her to gasp in shock as she jerked away from the other intruder.

What now? Breathing roughly, she fought to hold back her fear, her eyes wide, as hard hands pushed her into a kitchen chair.

"He'll kill you." She clenched her fingers at her side, trying to think, to find a way to escape, to warn Tarek.

"He might try. He'll fail. We were very careful this time. He won't even be able to smell us." Evil, malicious. The taller of the two men stared down at her curiously as he held the weapon on her. "So tell me, what's it like to f**k an animal?" Lyra swallowed tightly. "Ask your wife."

He grunted at that, smiling mockingly. "Doesn't matter." He shrugged. "The scientists will get the answer." She had to warn Tarek.

Her gaze flicked to the entrance of the kitchen. He would be finished soon, coming down the stairs, unaware of the danger awaiting him. Unable to smell the threat.

She swallowed tightly.

The Council had tortured him for most of his life, treated him like an animal, refused him even the most basic human considerations.

He had never eaten homemade bread. Had never drunk real coffee. He didn't know how to cook, but from what her brothers had said, many of the Breed labs had been dens of filth and neglect. Yet he kept his home sparkling, free of dust, and took off his shoes at the door. He was a man desperate to live, to be free. A man who knew how to love despite the horrors he had known.

And now these two thought they were going to use her to kill him?

She couldn't, she wouldn't allow it.

He belonged to her now. He was her heart, her soul, and she couldn't imagine life without him. She would die without him. Think Lyra. Her eyes darted around her as the two watched her closely. Warn him. How could you warn him…

Smell. He could smell arousal. He could smell fear. Rather than tamping back the horror racing through her, the terror clogging her mind, she gave it free rein instead. She had to warn him…

Tarek stepped out of the shower, drying quickly before jerking clean sweatpants on and moving to the door to let Lyra know the shower was now free.

He stepped into the bedroom, frowning at the empty bed for a long second before his head raised slowly, a new, intrusive scent reaching his nostrils.

Fear.

He could smell it, sharp, warning, riding the soft trail of Lyra's unique scent. But there was nothing else. No other smell drifting through the bedroom door to give him an idea of what awaited him downstairs.

She was his mate, and he could feel the danger surrounding her pulsing in the air.

He jerked the cell phone from beside the bed and keyed in the alert for trouble before tossing the device to the mattress and striding to the chest of drawers.

He pulled one of the smaller weapons from the drawer before stripping the adhesive backing from the light, skinadhering holster. Smacking it to the side of the gun, he anchored the weapon in the small of his back before pulling on his shirt.

He grabbed the spare gun from the top of the chest and checked the ammo before moving for the doorway.

Pausing, he listened carefully. There were no lights on, but he didn't need any. And he didn't know who or what was downstairs, but it wasn't a Breed. There wasn't a chance in hell a Breed could disguise his scent so effectively. But sometimes, rarely, certain humans could.

Trainers knew how. It was hard, at times nearly impossible, but it could be done.

As he moved to the stairs he inhaled carefully. He smelled no Breed or human scent other than Lyra's and her fear. It was overwhelming, imperative. But alongside it was a curiously hollow sterile scent. As though something had been cleaned. And another, not quite as crisp, as though something were bleeding away whatever had been used to disguise the evil that filled it.

A cold snarl shaped his lips.

There were two, and one of them was nervous, wary.

   
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