Wake A Sleeping Tiger (Breeds 22)

Taking the swab as he laid aside the vials now containing her blood, Cullen broke the seal, and when Chelsea opened her mouth he quickly rasped the insides of her cheeks with it.

“This is highly weird,” she informed him.

“And wanting to do the nasty like rabbits a dozen times a day isn’t?” Ashley teased, her gray eyes dancing with laughter.

“Not as weird as this. And definitely more fun,” Chelsea assured her, watching as Cullen moved to the machines, his voice low as he asked his brother something about the baseline and the DNA. It was more science than she wanted to understand.

“Graeme’s been bitching because Cullen hasn’t been in the lab working with him lately.” Cat moved to the cot and sat next to Chelsea as Ashley wandered off and began inspecting equipment and drawers curiously. “He gets distracted when I come down here to play assistant.”

Her cousin’s scientific smarts had arrived in her late teens, and her proficiency in it had shocked her teachers. Cat—Claire, as she’d been called then—had changed a lot that summer and even more so over the years.

“Yeah, he gets all kitty frisky on her,” Ashley drawled as she examined an array of scalpels she’d found in a drawer.

“Ashley, leave them alone,” Graeme growled as Ashley lifted her hand to pick up one of the sharp instruments.

Ashley shot him a pouting look but closed the drawer.

“You know,” Gr

aeme said then. “I believe Khileen had some new polishes and shoes arrive from Paris today; she said . . .”

An excited little squeal cut through the rest of the sentence and Ashley shed her lab coat quickly, tossed it over the back of a stool and ran for the staircase, racing up it, the heavy door at the top closing with a bang.

“Last time she was here, my favorite scalpel disappeared with her,” Graeme sighed as he shot a fond look toward the stairs. “She’s like a little pack rat.”

“Coyote hoarder,” Cat corrected him, laughter filling her voice. “Her Coya, Anya, is threatening an intervention.”

“Someone should keep her closer to the Coyote stronghold,” Graeme grumbled then, concern apparent in his tone. “It’s getting harder to keep her tagged without rousing her suspicions.”

Chelsea gave Cat a questioning look.

“Graeme believes Ashley’s been targeted by a stalker or the Council.”

“Knows,” Graeme corrected his wife, the statement filled with confidence. And he was completely serious. “There’s a difference between knowledge and belief.”

“So he tags her how?” she asked her cousin.

“I’ve convinced her she’s in danger of developing allergies and needs a biweekly injection,” Graeme answered as he turned back to the blood samples he was working with. “I inject a small tracking device in her arm. Her alpha refused to authorize a permanent one, so I have to settle for a temporary. They degrade fairly quickly, though. But if she disappears, then I’ll know exactly where to find her.”

Cat turned back to Chelsea, grinning. “He’s evil, huh?”

“That’s one word for it, I guess.” She could come up with a few more accurate terms.

“Come on, there’s drinks and sandwiches I keep in the other room. We’ll chat while they do their thing.” Sliding from the cot, Chelsea moved to follow Cat. As she neared Cullen he reached out, snagged her wrist and dropped a quick kiss to the top of her head, though his gaze remained on whatever experiment they were running.

Graeme wasn’t the only brother with mad scientist tendencies, it seemed.

Making certain Chelsea was out of earshot, Cullen watched the hormonal readings as they slowly began to display on a monitor, a frown working at his brow.

“We had company before we left the house,” he told his brother quietly.

“Ranger?” Graeme guessed, a rumble of displeasure in his voice. “Was he put out that you had him fired?”

The rage Ranger had displayed concerned him more than he wanted to admit. The scent of hatred coming from the man he’d called friend had shocked him with its depth. Hatred that strong had to have been brewing for a while.

“Draeger pulled him out before I could get hold of him.” He breathed out roughly before relating the incident to his brother.

Cullen shook his head when he finished, still trying to make sense of it. “I could feel his need to hurt her, Graeme. I believe he’s attempting to justify blaming Chelsea for the fact that I didn’t mate Lauren.”