He lifted the bottle and drank deeply once again.
He was going to have to get better booze if he wanted to get drunk. Hell, he could use a good drunk right now.
“Report is Vanderale’s heli-jet left Johannesburg less than an hour ago. Dane’s flying in. Things are getting ready to go to hell, Dog.” There was an edge of worry in his friend’s voice.
Things had already gone to hell.
Dane Vanderale, a hybrid breed, son to the first Leo, and a manipulating son of a bitch unlike any Dog had ever known, was sure to stick his damned nose into the situation.
Pushing his fingers restlessly through his hair, Dog placed the bottle carefully on the table and turned to face the other Breed.
“Initiate immediate evac,” he ordered him decisively, knowing what had to be done. “Get our people out, have them rendezvous at the house. I’ll need everyone in place.”
Years of planning, manipulating and careful calculations were coming to an end. The end he’d been working toward was in sight, and it was now endangered by a mating he’d hoped to delay.
“It’s already been done. I sent out the call myself. Everyone’s moving,” Mongrel assured him. “The mating scent’s damned strong. Won’t matter where you go, you won’t be able to hide it.”
Sometimes it could be covered, even hidden for short lengths of time, with the right hormonal treatments. But for some, there was no way to hide it. He’d waited too long—the hormone had only strengthened in his system over the years—and now it was raging through him.
Shit. Dane had warned him. Now he was going to have to listen to the bastard’s I-told-you-so’s. That was never pleasant. Hell. He should have just kept her.
Now he was going to have to find a way to slip into Jonas’s office, then slip into his mate’s bed. Because even if the Heat wasn’t burning her alive yet, by God, it damned sure was burning through him like wildfire.
“This is going to turn into a hell of a problem,” Mongrel warned him as he slid a slim cigar from his shirt pocket, lit it and turned for the door. “If you’re not careful, things are going to go to hell.”
Dammit, hadn’t that already happened? At least, according to his enraged mate.
“Naw, it’s just going to get more interesting.” He grinned, a tight, hard curve of mocking amusement. “That’s all, brother. It’s just going to get more interesting.”
Mongrel’s dubious look was almost amusing. “You scare me, Dog. I’ll be damned if you don’t scare me.”
But that was okay; as long as he wasn’t scaring himself he was doing good. So, was he scared yet?
Jonas was waiting for him. Pushing open what appeared to be a section of the wall an hour later, Dog entered the other Breed’s office as Mongrel stepped in behind him.
Mongrel. That name had the power to irk him at times, just as the name of their partner, Mutt, did. His own, he’d learned to live with. What could they expect when they were known for following the Genetic Council rather than fighting for Breed freedom?
But for the first time in his entire adult life, Dog admitted to a thread of regret that he hadn’t given Cassie reason to suspect that he wasn’t Council controlled.
“You could have warned me, Dog.” The brooding frustration on Jonas’s face wasn’t exactly a welcome when he entered the room. It looked more like pure disgust.
He arched a brow in inquiry. “I assumed you’d be expecting me.”
Yeah, that was a deliberate misdirection if there ever was one. The look on Jonas’s face assured him it wasn’t going to work, though. Not that Dog had expected it to.
“Where’s my mate?” He stared around the room.
He could smell her scent, sweet, spicy. An intriguing mix that made him harder than he was before he entered the room.
The look Jonas shot him was rife with frustration, and perhaps even anger. With this man, it wasn’t always easy to be certain which was which, but Dog had never let the look bother him either.
“She’s with her mother and several of our specialists. You know the deal. A hormonal treatment has to be worked up for her.” Jonas moved behind his desk and took his seat, staring back at Dog with liquid-mercury eyes that were almost as eerie as Cassie’s blue eyes.
Okay, hormonal treatments. He wasn’t going to object to that. They weren’t a cure, or even a treatment that would allow her to deny him. It would just make it easier for her to bear the effects of the Mating Heat. Wouldn’t be so bad if they could come up with a similar drug for the males.
That was, if it worked for her. Rumor was that Coyotes didn’t respond so well to hormonal treatments.
“Sinclair’s here, then?” Yeah, he’d expected that too, and that meeting he might not be looking forward to.