Cross Breed (Breeds 23)

“They’re not here to talk, Mr. Hyde,” his brother’s mate reminded him. “I warned you of that.”

Yes, that was true; she had reminded him of that.

“I need blood, saliva.” He let his gaze meet the young halfling’s. “Give me what I want; I give you what you want.”

Her eyes narrowed, the blue filled with latent power. He wanted to rub his hands together in glee. He’d been getting bored, he admitted. This would definitely liven things up.

“Graeme,” his mate’s voice held a warning.

“Cat,” he answered her, though his gaze never shifted from that neon blue. “It’s easy enough. She knows there’s no danger in giving it.” She merely stared back at him as he tilted his head and watched her.

“Can you speak?” he asked, amused.

“Quite well. Give me what I need, I’ll take the samples myself,” she stated.

That voice. Graeme could feel a chill moving up his spine at the haunting, hypnotic tone. It was beautiful. Crystal clear, pulling at the senses, at that inner part of a living being that made one need to give whatever the voice demanded.

“Can you work the pressure syringe yourself? I can lay out what you need,” he told her, thankful that he had no problem with it. Denying this young woman would not be easy when she let this part of her free.

“I can.” She nodded.

Graeme looked to her father quickly, seeing the clench of the Breed’s jaw.

That voice. God help Breeds and humans alike when the Primal inside her was fully mature. That voice would demand everyone sit up and listen.

Turning away, he laid out what she needed—the syringe, a sterile swab—and watched as she extracted her blood into the three vials he provided. Three swabs. He had quite a bit of work to do.

She did it quickly, efficiently, as he moved to his computer, typed in the proper address and watched information scroll through. He’d been alerted to certain events as Dash called, and had followed the information until they arrived.

When Cassie Sinclair stepped back from the tray she’d placed the samples on, he quickly wrote down the information and handed it to her.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he told her.

“She’s not,” her father spoke up.

Yes, this one would watch her back, but who would watch his? His influence on the young Primal was strong enough, the bonds of father and child stronger than the girl knew. But they were just two against whatever force awaited them.

“Cullen, shall we join the party?” he asked, aware of the young woman stilling, preparing. “Just to watch the father’s back.” He smiled as she narrowed her eyes on him.

“Good idea,” Cat agreed quietly. “Chelsea and I will join you.”

He tilted his head and stared back at Cassie. “It’s your party. Are you agreeable?”

Her slow nod was a bit wary, but her agreement was all he needed.

“When I gut him, keep back.” It wasn’t an idle threat.

Dash grimaced, a look of concern flickering over his expression.

“You’re going to kill him fast?” Graeme frowned, shedding his lab coat as Cullen handed him his weapon. “My dear, we need to discuss the idea of true pain. You’ll rue the day if you show him mercy. Shall we discuss the merits of torture instead …”

The frightening part was the fact that she seemed all too willing to listen.

• CHAPTER 18 •

There was nothing but pure, white-hot, demented fury. The kind of fury that took hold at the sight of another’s hands on his mate, restraining her, holding her back. The crazed rage as he was forced to remain still, silent at the sound of the animalistic screams and the knowledge that his mate was running desperately for him.

He didn’t look back, but he didn’t have to. From the second he’d seen her vaulting over the second bodyguard’s car and landing in a p