"Three?" That surprised him. He would have thought they would stick with two of them. "They used in vitro to develop the child they wanted and produced three with the same DNA. Snake, cat and human?"
"Dashes of snake and cat," she corrected. "They're human."
She made a sound and drew up her knees, writhing on the sofa. Her breath slammed out of her lungs. He pressed her braid to his face. She didn't want a painkiller, but if it got worse, she was going to get one anyway.
He waited until she was able to lie still again. Hoping to distract her, he continued the conversation. "She ran barefoot, just like you. In the swamp. Neither of you should be able to do that. Not to mention it's unsanitary."
"The babies have feet like a cat, with a cushion. The soles of their feet don't look as if they do, but they're tough and actually aid them in running, jumping long distances and climbing."
He looked at her feet. She had washed them when she first entered Nonny's home and they were small, fine-boned, almost delicate. There was no paint on her toenails and no adornments such as toe rings or ankle bracelets. He'd never had a foot fetish but he considered starting one now. He tugged the blanket down around her feet again without running his finger over the sole of her foot. He already knew it would be deceptively smooth.
"Why did he want three the same?"
"He needs one for a control and two for his experiments. He wanted to know what situations would push the girls to become more dangerous." She broke off abruptly, a soft moan escaping. She clamped down hard on it, her breath hissing out between her teeth. She drew her knees up and rocked her body back and forth.
"I can't stand this," Wyatt snapped.
Abruptly he stood, picked her up, blankets and all, and carried her to his boyhood bedroom. She didn't protest, her eyes closed tight. He doubted if she could protest. She could barely breathe.
He laid her on his bed and tucked the blanket around her. His equipment was just down the hall in the little office he'd used to see a few patients there in the bayou. Most, he visited in their homes, the old-fashioned way. Quickly he set up an IV beside the bed, pushing fluids and a heavy painkiller into her system.
Pepper shook her head, her eyes wide with fear, her hand reaching for the needle he'd put into her vein. Wyatt covered her hand with his, sinking down beside her. "Leave it, sugar. I mean it. You're in no condition to fight me and I'm not goin' to let you have this round. Take the damn painkillers and let them do their work."
Dangerous to you. To the others. Out of control. She shook her head again, those dark purple eyes looking so frightened he took a breath and forced his voice to be gentler when he was feeling anything but gentle.
"No one else can get into this room, Pepper. I've locked the door. I'll keep you safe, I promise, and I won' hold you to anythin' you say or do while on this drug. If you want me to, I'll wear earplugs. The truth is, I can' stand to see you suffer. I want you to sleep through this if possible."
Her gaze drifted over his face. His heart jumped. Pounded. His pulse reacted. The physical pull to her was far stronger than he'd imagined it could ever be between a man and a woman. He sure as hell didn't want his friends feeling the same thing for her or having the same erotic fantasies playing through their heads.
Was she feeling the same way? He was certain she was. He told himself the enhancements they'd given her had made her a sexual being. Every move she made, the way she talked, it was all very sensual. His fantasies were most likely hers and she was sharing them with him through the connection he'd forged when he'd merged their minds - at least that was what he wanted to believe.
He saw the moment the drug took her, sweeping her up and away from the pain the snakebite had caused. Her muscles still cramped, but he was pushing fluids that would help. He examined the bullet wound first. His heart contracted for no real reason other than she looked vulnerable. The white knight was rising fast and he didn't like it. He'd already been a fool once; he didn't need to do it twice. Except... Sometimes a man just had to take what he wanted and make it work.
Wyatt set his jaw and picked up her arm to examine the site where the bite had been inflicted. Pepper was a good healer. Oftentimes, a bite from a viper could cause tissue damage - a lot of it. The older marks were faint, just small white scars. The new bite was more of a dark bruise where the puncture marks were, and already the arm was very swollen.
Clearly she had built up somewhat of an immunity against the viper bite as well. He supposed that it would be a good idea to start the process for him, and maybe Flame and Gator as well as his other two brothers... What the hell was he thinking? He'd lost his mind. He was going to help get those babies free and shut down whatever Braden was doing in that laboratory, but that was all. No way were those babies staying in his family home.
What had she said? They used the laboratory as a disposal site. His bayou. They were killing children in his bayou. The walls around him expanded and contracted and he breathed away the anger.
He could tell by her breathing that Pepper had finally drifted off to sleep. He stretched out on the other side of the bed, exhaustion suddenly hitting him. It wouldn't hurt anything to close his eyes. Just for a minute.
Wyatt didn't remember stripping, although he'd never liked wearing clothes to bed, but he was stark-naked when her hands began to slide over his body. Her hair was free of the intricate braid and sweeping over his chest as she moved over him. Her body was warm and soft and all curves. His hands came up to catch her waist, to slide down over her exquisite hips to her perfect butt.
She slid her leg over him, straddling his thighs, leaning down to lick at him like a cat. Her tongue felt like a velvet rasp, teasing at his body, promising him so much more. She made soft little sounds, purring like a cat, the vibration riding through his cock and spreading through his body. He cupped her breasts in his palms, the sweet weight, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard peaks.
"I'm not a gentle lover," he warned her softly. "You start this, I'll be finishin' it."
"Be as rough as you like, Wyatt," she replied softly. "I'm all for rough. Anyway you want me."
He caught her hair in both fists and pushed her head toward his aching cock. He needed her mouth around him. Right. Now. Pepper gasped. Moaned. Writhed. He tightened his hold on her hair. Aching. Needing. Desperate.
"Damn it, woman, get your mouth on me right now." The command came out more of a growl. His cat reacted, wanting to hold her down, sink his teeth into her, force her submission once he had the control.
His fists tightened and he felt his blunt nails driving into his palm. His eyes opened and he found his hands holding nothing at all. He had a savage erection - his cock nearly bursting out of the front of his jeans, stretching the material beyond endurance, but there was no woman crawling over him.
Swearing in his native language, beads of sweat running down his body, he forced himself to roll to the side, away from her. He needed to get up. To take a cold shower. To stop the erotic images playing in his head like some crazy porn flick.
It was only then that he became aware of her breathing, the rush from her lungs, the gasping pants.
"Oh, hell," he whispered softly, grateful they were surrounded by the dark. Either he'd shared his dream with her or she'd shared hers with him, but the results were the same - both bodies were in a desperate state of arousal. At least she had drugs to get her through. He could only grit his teeth and hang on.
Wyatt sat up slowly, carefully, making certain he didn't break any important parts. Very slowly he turned his head to look at her. He knew, before he did it, that it would be a mistake, but he couldn't resist the compulsion.
He didn't understand how she could look so beautiful to him when she had gone through so much. Her body had to be able to repair itself at a rapid rate. Ezekiel and Malichai as well as every other member of their team were able to heal quickly, but he'd never seen anything quite like the way Pepper's body fought against the venom. It was no wonder she hadn't been on a termination list. Her body would be a gold mine for a pharmaceutical company, or at least a secret weapon for the enhanced soldiers.
He leaned over and brushed back the wild strands of hair that had come out of her braid, just as he'd wanted to do all night. Her skin was warm and soft, her breathing rapid, breasts rising and falling. Beneath the thin material of her shirt, her nipples had peaked, pushing through the lace of her bra in response to her dream.
He'd sworn off women, and here he was, breaking his vow, because this particular woman interested him as no other ever had. He was going to get more than heartbreak if he insisted on pursuing her. Other men would covet her the moment she opened her mouth, or looked sideways at them. Worse, she was more than just that sexual lure - she had to be lethal.
Wyatt didn't care if the man overseeing the project was someone named Thomas Braden. Pepper was one of Dr. Whitney's experiments, and that meant she was meant to be a soldier. She had killer instincts and the ability to kill silently and swiftly just like any other GhostWalker.
Her breathing calmed. So did her body. And that made him think he was the instigator of the dreams - not Pepper. That didn't make him happy. He'd always been sexual. Hell, every one of his brothers was as well. He was a true son of the bayou. Sultry nights and beautiful Cajun women just plain put such thoughts in a man's head.