Cross Breed (Breeds 23)

There was always something. There had to be more than they’d found so far.

Laying her tablet on the counter separating the roomy kitchen and living area, she turned to the Coyote as her hands propped on her hips and fought for patience.

“Do you know how many times one of the windows created by Lawrence Industries has failed due to a strike such as the one today?” The back of her neck was tingling, her stomach tight with worry.

“That I could find. The only failures were those caused by outside interference. Three, I believe.” Cocking a hip, the petite blond Coyote Breed consulted her own tablet. “Each was due to interference to the electronic shielding.” She looked up, gray eyes regarding Cassie in understanding. “Diagnostics found the jamming chip and Jonas and Rule will find the shooter.”

The confidence Ashley displayed was starting to piss her off.

“Not without a direction to look,” she forced out between gritted teeth. “That’s our job.”

“And we will do our job.” Ashley flipped her hair behind her shoulder w

ith a little shrug. “While we do our job, you need to jump your mate’s bones and relax a little. You know this will take a minute.”

A minute? They’d been at it for hours.

Unfortunately, Ashley was right. Cassie couldn’t think clearly, not like this. Not when everything inside her was rioting with the need for Dog.

“I’ll go and harass Coyote ass to work faster.” Ashley turned for the door as Dog’s scent reached Cassie, drawing her, sending the need spiraling as she pivoted toward the doorway to the far side of the room.

He stood, leaning against the door frame, regarding her quietly, his gaze somber rather than amused. He was bare chested, his feet bare. He’d showered if the dampness of his hair was an indication. The dun-colored pants he wore were zipped but not buttoned, and beneath them she could see the heavy bulge that indicated his erection.

The door closed behind Ashley with a quiet snick, leaving them alone, staring across the distance that separated them.

That disquiet she could feel had her stomach in knots now.

“Did you find anything at the site?” She knew the reports so far said they hadn’t, but sometimes there were holes in the reports, she knew.

“Just what we sent you.” He shook his head, grimacing. “Rule sent trackers out searching for the dirt bike, but he’s not optimistic. Once it hits the highway, it’ll be impossible to track.”

She wanted to go to him. She needed to touch him. There was something that held her back, though, something that didn’t make sense. Swallowing, she glanced to the curtains closed over the balcony doors and rubbed at her arms nervously.

“Southern view.” She turned back to him. “There’s no satellite gap there. They won’t be able to make the same attempt.”

He followed her gaze but didn’t respond. When his gaze met hers once again, she could feel her heart beginning to race with a sense of fear.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, unable to bear the tension rising inside her any longer.

Where were the spirits, the vague images that once guided her, that helped her when she so desperately needed answers? For the first time since they’d mated, she felt a distance in Dog, despite the mating bond that had been strengthening between them.

And it had been strengthening, building, binding them together and giving her a sense of hope that it would be more than just a physical mating for him.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He finally shook his head, holding his hand out to her. “I need my mate, though.”

She stared at his hand, moving slowly to him, hating the fear rising inside her and the uncertainty building like a premonition of danger humming in her head.

Reaching out, she took his hand and let him lead her into the bedroom. A low light glowed from the table next to the king-sized bed. The comforter and sheet were pulled back invitingly. Despite the arousal burning inside her, a chill raced up her spine as he drew her to the bed.

“Something’s wrong,” she whispered as he sat on the side of the bed and drew her between his knees. “I can feel it, Dog.”

Her hands rested on his shoulders, the warmth of his flesh sinking into her palms.

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he whispered.

Releasing the braid and pulling apart the sections of her hair, he arranged them gently before turning to her clothes.

The zipper at the back of her skirt slid free, the silk caressing as it slid over the tops of her stockings to the floor. When it pooled at her feet, he began unbuttoning her blouse unhurriedly.