Tempting the Beast

CHAPTER EIGHT

“It may take a few days.” Doc Martin, the only scientist left alive from the original five that had worked with the creation of Callan and the others, set the dozen or so vials in a small box and began to pack his instruments.

He had blood samples, saliva samples, hell, even more than one semen sample. Despite the manual releases, though, Callan’s cock still throbbed. His blood rushed through his veins and he couldn’t get the scent of that damned woman from his body.

“Any guesses?” Callan asked him.

Doc shrugged. “It could be anything, Callan, though I say we can safely narrow it down to a sexual problem. I won’t know anything conclusive until the tests are finished. And I need samples from the woman as well. You need to bring her here tonight, let me get those samples to test alongside yours.”

“No.” He couldn’t trust himself anywhere around her.

“From what you say, she’s affected as well, Callan,” Sherra stated from behind the doctor. “We need to know what’s going on. This isn’t just about you. It could affect all of us.”

The full Pride was assembled, the other three watched him somberly, more than a little concerned at the news of this new problem they were facing.

“Let’s wait and see what mine say. If she’s still experiencing this problem, then we’ll see,” Callan bit out. “Until then, there’s no sense in alarming her.” No sense in tempting the lust raging between them.

“It’s dangerous enough that he’s had any reaction with a normal person,” Dayan said darkly. The cougar breed was brooding, his brown eyes unsettled, angry, his expression more savage than usual.

“We aren’t monsters, Dayan.” Beside him, Dawn, the youngest of the pride, also a cougar breed, protested softly.

“What do you call it, Dawn? Do you want to fuck a normal male and take the chance that your nature will destroy him?” Dayan sneered.

Callan watched Dawn flinch, her face paling, fear flashing across her expression.

“Enough,” Callan growled. “What’s happened to you, Dayan, that you would turn on the women now? There is nothing to indicate we would hurt anyone.”

“She’s not normal. She has no business—”

A savage snarl erupted from Tanner’s throat. Bengal, unpredictable, and fiercely protective of the women, as a young male his temper often ran hot and impatient.

“Enough, dammit.” Callan came to his feet, staring at them all. Taber and Tanner had placed Dawn behind them and now faced Dayan, incisors showing, their expressions masks of anger.

“They’re at it again,” Sherra sighed. “It won’t go any further.”

“It should not be going on this far.” Callan turned to her angrily. “Is this what you do while I’m drawing the Council soldiers from our home? Fight amongst yourselves?”

“Only when Dayan attempts to take over,” Tanner burst out. “You left Taber in charge, he has no right to order us, or Dawn and Sherra.”

“He is getting out of hand, Callan,” Taber’s voice was less violent, but the potential of it throbbed just beneath the surface. The jaguar breed his DNA was mixed with could be calm and patient, or savagely aggressive.

“Dayan?” Callan questioned him, his voice hard.

Dayan shook his head. “We are not normal.” He seemed more subdued now, backing down from the others. “It’s insanity to pretend we are.”

“None of us attempt to pretend that we are normal.” Callan raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Go home. See if you can find your patience before tomorrow night. I want you and Taber patrolling the ridge for soldiers. We can’t let down our guard, especially now.”

Other than a brief nod, Dayan did little to respond before he turned and stomped from the room.

“Dawn?” The young woman still seemed to cower behind Tanner and Taber. “Come out of there, little sister. Why would you still be frightened?” Because shadows and memories tore at her, tormented her. He knew well why she feared.

She moved from the safety of the other two men, glancing back at Taber as though for reassurance.

“Dayan is trying to force her to move in with him,” Sherra said as she began to help Doc pack their supplies. “His desire for her frightens her.”

Dawn paled. Callan breathed a weary sigh. There were days he wondered if they would survive with their sanity in tact.

“Take her home with you, Sherra,” Callan ordered. “I don’t want her left alone.”

He ignored Dawn’s look of surprised thankfulness.

“Keep her there,” he continued. “I’ll have my hands full running Ms. Tyler off. I need no other worries.”

“Good luck,” Doc said as he studied a page from the thick notebook he had stolen from the lab years ago.

“What have you found?” Callan frowned, easing closer.

Jacob Martin shook his head worriedly, his lined face creasing into a scowl as he read the information he had found.

“There was a case of this, with the first Leo created, about ten years before you. He was kept in another location. This occurred with a female scientist, actually.” He turned worried eyes to Callan. “It affects not just you, Callan, but the woman as well. The two of you are in a ‘mating frenzy’.”

“Mating frenzy?” Callan asked carefully.

“I must have missed this, because you’ve never displayed these symptoms before.” The scientist shook his head in confusion. “It’s just a small notation, really. The Leo and the female were destroyed, so there were no tests done regarding the phenomena. But extreme sexual distress, fevered conditions, heightened senses, the ability to scent the female’s arousal, were all notated. The scientist labeled it as ‘mating frenzy’. A condition similar to that of feline animals.”

Callan sat down as he breathed out wearily.

“No tests mean no way of knowing what will happen,” he said wearily.

Doctor Martin shook his head. “There was mention that several scientists wanted to study it, see if the Leo could breed with the woman, but those over the project wouldn’t allow it. They destroyed the pair.”

Callan braced his elbows on his legs, his hands hanging between his knees as he lowered his head, shaking it in horror. The decisions of life and death were made so easily within the hell they had been created in.

“Someone has to keep an eye on the woman. I need those tests from her, Callan,” the doctor warned him. “We need to track this, for the others if for no other reason. If it happens with you, then it will happen with them. And we don’t know if the woman is in any danger from this.”

Callan wondered if the night could possibly get any worse.

“You need to check on her, Cal,” Sherra warned him. “Or let one of us.”

“I’ll do it,” he growled, he wanted none of the other males around her. “I’m taking the cell. Doc, you and Sherra hang around here for now. I’ll contact you if she’s still—” He shrugged.

“Horny?” Sherra grinned mischievously.

“Aroused,” he bit out. “I’ll let you know when you can leave.”

Merinus was aroused. She lay on the sleeping bag within her tent, naked, her body sheened in sweat, pulsating, throbbing with a fever of lust. Her hands cupped her breasts, her fingers pressing against the hard nipples and she couldn’t contain her moan. It felt so good. Almost as good as when Callan had touched her there. She rolled the hard little points between her fingers, her head tossing. Her breasts were so swollen, so sensitive, they were nearly painful.

Her skin tingled. One hand ran over the damp contours of her flat stomach to the smooth flesh between her thighs. Slick, wet heat greeted her fingers. Her clit throbbed, pulsed. She shivered at the feel of her own fingers glancing over the hard little button. Need arched like electricity over her body. Hungry, consuming. She wanted, needed Callan.

She admitted she was in a hell of a mess now. Somehow, someway he had made her crazed for his touch, his kiss. That kiss had been so hot, spicy. The taste of his mouth lingered in hers, making her crave more of it.

Her fingers slid down the thickly coated slit of her cunt. Her thighs tightened, her legs trembled. Oh, she ached. Her fingers tweaked at her nipples, pulling at them, tightening around them until she was moaning heatedly. Her hips bucked against her fingers as they circled her clit. Oh, that felt good. But not as good as Callan could make it feel. She wanted to feel his mouth on her clit, sucking, his tongue stroking it as he had her nipples.

She panted for air now. Remembering the moist, heated warmth of his mouth. Her fingers moved more firmly on her clit, a moan working from her throat as heat swelled in her, around her. She was on fire. Dying. What had he done to her?

“Callan,” she whispered his name tremulously.

She would laugh, if she weren’t so hot. If the need pulsing through her body wasn’t so intense, so searing.

She wondered where Callan was. Surely he had some idea what was happening to her? Was this his punishment for her daring to come out here and try to drag him into public awareness?

This wasn’t working. Breathing hard, her fingers stilled on her flesh. She wasn’t going to climax, not the way she was doing it. Dammit, she knew she should have bought that damned book on masturbation. But no, she was convinced she could find some buff, muscled god to take care of the job for her. Here she was, stuck in bum fucked nowhere, so horny she was burning alive, and no muscle god to put out the fire.

“Dammit,” she slapped at her sleeping bag, frustrated tears coming to her eyes. “I’ll kill him when I find him. I’ll let Kane neuter him. I’ll blow his balls off with my gun.”

She groaned, turning over on her side, breathing roughly. She could get through this. She blew out hard, attempting to find some measure of control. She could do this, she thought. She really could make it until tomorrow, then she was stalking into that damned garage and Mr. Callan Lyons, Catboy Extraordinaire, was going to take care of this damned problem, one way or another.