Coyote's Mate (15 page)

Dr. Armani’s expression grew thoughtful.

“She had coffee last night.” He was desperate for answers. “God damn you, do something.”

She narrowed her eyes on Anya before moving closer to the bed, ignoring the bodyguards’

growls.

“Coffee is a no-no, Anya,” she said gently.

“She was aroused when she awoke this morning.”

Anya groaned in embarrassment. “Dammit, Del-Rey.”

“She was dreaming. She wanted my kiss.” He was close to losing his mind.

“Anya?” Dr. Armani moved closer. “Have you hurt like this before?”

“Duh,” she managed weakly. “I would have been here.”

“Smart ass.” The doctor smiled fondly. “I want you to let Del-Rey take another sample of blood for me. I may have an idea.”

She moved, collected the syringe and pushed another vial onto it before handing it to Del-Rey.

Swiftly Del-Rey drew the blood, tensing as he felt the pain in her rising from the loss of the pressure of his hand.

Armani moved quickly back to her lab as Del-Rey returned his hand to her stomach.

“Mate, you’re going to give me a stroke,” he sighed as he moved closer to her and brushed damp hair back from her cheek.

A weak smile crossed her pale lips. “I should get a treat for being a good girl while you took the blood.”

“Anything,” he whispered, knowing what she would ask. That she would ask to be relieved from his bed, out of his arms.

She sighed. “Get Ashley’s damned nails fixed. Her whining will drive me insane.”

“Whenever she needs it.” He caressed her hair and laid his lips at her temple. “Nails are no longer included in punishments.”

She sighed, slowly relaxing. The tension eased, bit by bit, until her muscles relaxed beneath his palm. The heat of his hand and her flesh melded them together. He swore he sweat buckets while he caressed her rounded tummy.

Finally, she breathed out in exhaustion and turned her head to Emma. “Em. I need some water.”

“Yes, Anya.” Emma rushed to the outer room as Ashley and Sharone stood by her side.

“Anya.” Del-Rey eased up.

She shook her head. She was still pale, but she wasn’t sweating and normal color was returning to her cheeks.

“Pain in the ass, Coyote,” she snorted, but there was a smile in her weak voice. “I scared you, huh?”

“Terrified the hell out of me, Coya,” he admitted.

He wasn’t supposed to kiss her. He was to keep the hormone in those glands to himself, but he wanted to kiss her. Until hell wouldn’t have it.

“Hey, Breed.” Armani’s determined voice had him lifting his head. “Open.” She shoved a swab at his mouth.

“What?” Del-Rey jerked back.

“Oral swab. Now.” She shoved the damned thing in his mouth, swiping it over his swollen glands before turning and rushing back to her lab.

“Coya, your water.” Emma moved back to the bed as Del-Rey helped her sit up and sip at the water.

“I want out of here,” Anya muttered after Del-Rey handed the cup back to Emma. “Now.”

“Not yet.” There wasn’t a chance in hell. “Stay still a while longer, Anya. You’re going no place until we figure this out.”

“I’ll live here then,” she retorted. “I want my own doctors. We need Coyote Breed specialists.”

He snorted at that. “I killed them all. Remember?”

Her expression became mutinous.

“I trust Dr. Armani. She’ll figure it out.”

“Not without a Coyote Breed specialist she won’t figure crap out,” she groaned. “What if this happens to Ashley, Del-Rey, or one of the younger twins? Sharone or Emma? How will we help them?”

“Anya, there are no Coyote specialists left. Those that were left that the Council didn’t kill, I took care of. They’re murdering bastards with a god complex. Armani will fix that.”

She eased up on the bed and glared at him. “I want our own doctor.”

“Find me one then.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “If you can find one you trust your friends with, then go for it. Have at it. But they’re all dead. Six feet under and can’t help us.”

She wasn’t going to find one. When the Russian facility was breached, the doctors that returned to the Council had disappeared, their bodies turning up one by one over the months. The Council had suspected one of them of conspiring with the rescuers, so they had killed them all.

Over the years, Del-Rey and his men had taken care of the others. If the bastards weren’t alive, then they couldn’t create more. The process wasn’t easy. Coyote Breeds were the most difficult to create and to keep alive until age five. It seemed their mates were going to be difficult in other areas as well.

“Coyote Breed mates are just different.” Armani reentered the examination room. “Amanda Bear, Kiowa Bear’s mate and wife, is the only Coyote Breed we’ve been able to test. The Felines took care of that unfortunately,” she sighed. “But they did share the results of the tests with me.

Kiowa is more or less a hybrid, conceived naturally, so his genetics are slightly different, but we might have something here.”

“Meaning?”

“A hormone that only shows up when semen has been spilled inside the womb. There’s a hormone caused by the one in your tongue that acts as a blocker to prevent conception. It quite literally forms a barrier against viable sperm. Now she has that hormone in her system because you’ve kissed, you’ve had intercourse.”

Of a sort, Anya thought sarcastically as she watched the doctor.

“It’s been eight months,” Anya pointed out. “I’ve never hurt like this before, Dr. Armani.”

“Because you’ve not been in contact with him,” she stated. “Your hormonal levels are showing steady. But I wasn’t looking for that additional hormone, as you weren’t having sex. Were you?”

“No,” Del-Rey growled.

Anya gave him a hooded look. Maybe if she bought him an instruction book. Surely he could learn more than doggie style if he saw the pictures? Of course, knowing male Breed training as she did, he probably knew all the moves. He just hadn’t practiced them on her.

“Okay, so, this hormone just dropped off the radar, but it wasn’t gone.”

“Meaning?”

Armani sighed as though they were dim-witted children. “So there was no addition to your hormonal therapy for it. You’re ovulating, and that hormone is building.”

“So?” Anya asked again. “How many months have you tracked ovulation with me, Dr. Armani?

I’ve never hurt like this.”

“And your mate was never around to tempt you or to arouse you. I keep trying to beat it into you guys. Mating is not all about the physical. Emotions cause hormones and chemical reactions as well. Love, hate, anger, irritation, satisfaction—they all trigger separate chemicals within the body.”

“So I was angry.” Anya nodded.

“Pissed off, horny, ovulating and perhaps, Anya, you don’t hate your mate near as much as you once convinced yourself you did. Bam. That hormonal blocker is in place. But added to it is another hormone that also releases with it. One that tries to force the female to have intercourse, to get more seed, to break through that barrier. The Wolf Breed mates share that chemical barrier with the Coyote Breed mates. I hadn’t adjusted the hormone to allow for any change. Your hormonal levels were showing normal, because it takes more than a vaginal swab or blood to detect it. The test is much more in-depth and painful for the female; it requires actually penetrating the womb itself. That’s how it was found the first time. Dr. Serena Grace, she was there before Ely Morrey, found the differing chemicals and hormones and figured out how to adapt the hormonal treatments to that. But we weren’t able to get enough of that hormone until you submitted to those tests after you came here.”

“I didn’t hurt like this then,” Anya stated. “You’re not making sense.”

“Emotions are the difference, Anya,” she said, her voice gentle. “It’s not your hormones that are changing; it’s the chemicals released due to your emotions at any given time. I’ve adjusted your hormonal therapy for that additional chemical and hormone. This should prevent that pain from returning.” She handed the pressure syringe to Del-Rey. “Upper right arm, Del-Rey.”

He pushed the loose sleeve of her sweater back, his fingers going over the slight blemish on her skin where the syringe was used regularly.

“Next month, during ovulation, we’ll be on guard for this. Until then, we’ll need to step up the hormonal injections. Perhaps every few days.” Armani sighed deeply. “But damn, don’t scare me like that again.”

“Get a Coyote specialist,” Anya told her fiercely. “They might have answers you don’t.”

Dr. Armani shook her head. “I’ve looked, Anya. There are only a few that haven’t turned up dead, but they’re missing. Likely dead as well. I’m doing my best.” She shrugged heavily.

Anya thinned her lips. No, they weren’t all dead, but that didn’t mean she trusted Del-Rey to contact them. She would have to do this one herself. Because that pain was scary. And even scarier was Dr. Armani’s supposition that it was emotional changes causing it. Because Anya knew she only wished she could hate him.

CHAPTER 8

“My nails look so pretty.” Ashley sighed as she threw herself beside Anya on the couch in the community room and lifted her hands up for inspection three days later.

French-tipped, a brilliant stripe running diagonally across each of them through a rich, lustrous vermillion. They were pretty nice.

“Cute,” Anya stated as she flipped a page in the magazine she was pretending to read.

Ashley curled her legs under her and stared back at Anya.

“Get a haircut?” Anya asked her.

“Oh yeah.” Ashley flipped the shorter back and sides. “Alpha sprang for it. But I’m still six weeks without new shoes, video games or splurge money for the mall. That sucks. He’s being mean about cutting weeks off too. Remember, though, you can’t have that ceremony until after my punishment. I want to look really pretty for it.”

Anya had thought about that ceremony, though Del-Rey hadn’t mentioned it. Hell, she had even looked at dresses herself, as though it meant something to her.

“Hmm,” Anya muttered as she flipped another page.

“You’re horny,” Ashley whispered. “Alpha make you sleep with him last night?”

Anya glared at her. “I had to have been out of my mind when I bargained for your nails rather than my bed.”

Ashley grinned impishly. “It’s because you love me best. I’ve been rubbing it in too. Sharone and Emma are so put out with me.”

“Emma doesn’t have kitchen duty,” Anya informed her. “Del-Rey put her in the office instead.”

“Only because she put that knife of hers under a Feline Breed’s throat when he wanted a sandwich,” Ashley laughed.

Anya closed her eyes and laid her head back on the couch. “I want kitchen staff, Ashley. A cook, someone that can bake.”

“Ohh, chocolate. Yummy,” Ashley sighed. “I had chocolate cheesecake and coffee in town.”

“I hate you,” Anya muttered, uncurling from her seat and moving away. “Get away from me, chocolate breath, before I kill you.”

No caffeine, no chocolate. No masturbating. No nothing for the bad little Coyote mate that didn’t want to fuck. She snorted at the thought of it.

“Hey, let the alpha give you a little somethin’-somethin’, and you can do coffee and chocolate.”

Ashley caught up with her easily.

Anya harrumphed at the thought. “I’m not that desperate yet.” She was dying for him. So aroused she was liquid heat, and Dr. Armani was scratching her head over it. All hormone levels were fine and dandy. Just great. Emotional response, Dr. Armani had said and smirked.

Emotional her ass.

“Come on, Anya, you know you want him.” Ashley skipped beside her, her pouting lips spreading into a smile. “You could just eat him all up like he’s chocolate himself, couldn’t you?”

“I’m going to shoot you,” Anya mumbled as she headed for her room.

“Where are you going? Don’t you have coya stuff to do?” Ashley asked her. “I heard Brim bitching at Sharone over your reports.”

“Did them,” Anya stated. They hadn’t taken long.

She was dying for Del-Rey’s kiss. It was eating her alive. She wanted to bite that lower lip and then lick it all better. Then she wanted to get serious about it and lick him all over.

“Don’t you have a party tonight?” Anya asked. “I already bought my dress. Thank God I didn’t wait till the last minute on that one.”

“Yes, something. City council shindig. Their yearly schmooze fest from what I understand.”

“Yeah, Del-Rey has a team out now going into place in case of snipers. He says his neck is itching.” Ashley reached back and scratched at her own neck. “So is mine. Do you think he’s messing with my mind?”

Anya had to laugh. “Did they dye your hair again, Ash? Sweetie, that stuff is rotting your brain.”

Ashley pouted. “And here I thought you loved me.”

Anya shook her head as she opened the door into her bedroom and came to a complete, hard stop. In a flash, Ashley was in front of her.

“Oh boy,” Ashley squeaked as the woman pushed away from Del-Rey’s arms. “Oh hell. Oh shit.

Alpha, you fucking suck.”

Del-Rey watched as Anya stepped slowly into the room. He watched her carefully as Sofia Ivanova moved slowly away from him.

Hell, he was up shit creek now and it damned sure wasn’t what it looked like.

“Anya, you know this isn’t the way it seems,” he told her.

“Why is this woman here?” Anya was glaring at Sofia, her sapphire eyes glowing between lowered lashes. “This is my bedroom.”

“I’m sorry, Anya, this is my fault.” Sofia’s smile was nothing if not confident. “I came to see Del-Rey. We argued and I meant to leave the room. I was upset and used the wrong door.”

“Don’t insult me by lying.” She turned to Del-Rey, her nostrils flaring as she fought to control her breathing.

A perfect cloud of beautiful blond hair framed the other woman’s aristocratic features. She was slender, tall, willowy, and Anya had never liked her.

“Why is she here?”

He pushed his fingers through his hair with a grimace. “She’s one of our plants within the Council. She always has been. She came with information and I didn’t want her seen so I had her slipped in.”