Wake A Sleeping Tiger (Breeds 22)

“Hell if I know,” he bit out roughly. “Let’s pray Ranger lets it go at this point. He can hate me till hell freezes over and I won’t regret it. What I sensed from him today didn’t just start. I was just too damned stupid to realize it all these years.”

And the animal instincts had been sleeping, refusing to come out and play and allow Cullen to sense the truth.

“Well, take this for what it’s worth.” Draeger snapped the fire from his half-smoked cigar before tucking it back into the pocket on his mission pants. “That buddy of yours hasn’t considered you a friend for a long time, if he ever did. The sense I got was a hatred well aged. He’s gunning for you, but even more to the point, he’s gunning for your mate.”

Cullen watched the other Breed, feeling the truth of the statement.

“He better not even consider placing his finger on the trigger, then,” he stated softly. “He makes that mistake, then he’ll die. And that’s a fact.”

And it was probably a good idea to put one of his own spies on Ranger’s ass, just to be sure. Because like Draeger, Cullen had sensed not just the fury but also the hatred. The kind of hatred known to make even smart men have their moments of stupid.

Cullen would hate to have to kill a man he’d once known as a friend, but if that former friend thought to strike against his mate, Cullen would kill him before he gave it a moment’s thought.

And without a moment’s regret.

CHAPTER 19

From Graeme’s Journal

Recessed Primal Genetics and Mating Heat

Whether recessed or active, the vast intelligence, incredible cunning and iron resolve of a Primal is an ever-deepening, ever-reaching invitation into madness and the thirst for blood.

She could have sworn Cullen said they were meeting at Graeme’s to discuss a little trip to visit the Cerves family. Instead, after arriving at Graeme and Cat’s seemingly deserted house, Cullen led her into a basement entrance and then through a concealed doorway into an underground tunnel.

He motioned her into a golf cart of all things and, to her amazement, drove her through the network of steel-reinforced, well-lit passages.

“It’s just about a mile to the main cavern,” he told her as he drove with a casual confidence that betrayed the fact that he did it often.

“How did the tunnels get here?” She stared around them as he traveled between thick stone walls.

The tunnel was easily twice the width of the cart, with other passageways branching off occasionally in other directions.

“Mining, several centuries ago, I believe.” A smile quirked at his lips. “Graeme swears he found a vein of gold in one of the offshoot tunnels, but I haven’t convinced him to show it to me yet.”

Before long, Cullen turned the cart into a slightly narrower tunnel before pulling to a stop behind a matching cart.

“The main cavern’s through there.” He nodded to a wide, arched entrance as they stepped from the cart and Chelsea followed behind him.

From one surprise to another—the cavern they entered was easily the square footage of a modest home and at least two stories high. On one side, a curved metal staircase extended up to a landing that held a large, heavy wood door. On the opposite side, it appeared Graeme had set up a well-equipped medical lab. There were at least a dozen varying types of computerized processing units and a computer set up with no less than half a dozen monitors.

State-of-the-art and well lit, and obviously used often.

“Mad scientist much?” she muttered suspiciously as they neared the work area.

“Dr. Jekyll’s lab is more like it.” Cullen glanced at her over his shoulder, a small grin edging at his lips. “You met Mr. Hyde yesterday.”

“No way.” She could not stop a spurt of laughter. “You actually call it that?”

“You call him ‘it,’” he pointed out, shooting her a mocking frown. “Trust me, he likes ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ far better.”

Graeme chose that moment to enter the main cavern from a separate entrance on the other side of the lab area wearing a white lab coat, white shirt, jeans and leather sneakers. Behind him, Ashley strutted, her slight form swallowed by a matching lab coat as she seemed to be admiring the far-too-large fit. Cat followed behind them, dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt and sandals, shaking her head at them, obviously on the verge of laughing.

“There you two are,” Graeme announced in a distracted, mad-scientist sort of way. “Good. We can get started.”

“Madhouse,” Cullen muttered beside her. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” she asked suspiciously, eyeing the lab equipment.