Read Online Cat Scratch Fever; Blue-Collar Werewolves V by Buffi BeCraft - Free Book Online Page A

in
the room. The scent was almost enough to mask the underlying stench
of drugs keeping him inert.
    Her lioness sat up and took notice. The
birthmark on Naomi’s breast heated. God, she wanted him. The cat
inside her purred possessively, pressing her closer to the silver
bars. Naomi jerked back, hissing at the burn and the stench of
singed flesh. She shook her head, incredulous. They were good;
she’d give them—all of them, that. She’d almost fallen for the
insanity.
    Naomi had to get her head screwed on
straight. Dreams did not come true, despite what Nathan believed.
The unfortunate soul on the gurney was not the cats’ version of
‘The Once and Future King’. Reincarnation was a religious fantasy.
Besides, even if her dreams were true, there was no way for a
psychic to become a cat. Her people, like most Were groups, lost
the ability to transfer their nature through a bite around the same
time as the last Leo died.
    Time dragged by while she wrestled the
irrational desire to touch him. Naomi took inventory of the lab.
With no clock visible, she could only guess by the clear shields
over the front of the cage cells on the opposite side of the lab,
that it was the afternoon break. Once again, Drake had ‘forgotten’
to lock them down before leaving them alone in the lab. She
supposed not taking any personal time away at all could be
considered suspicious behavior. Or not, considering Kemlec’s demand
to finish the super virus to kill off all of the supernaturals.
Naomi slumped down on the floor, resting her chin on her knees. Now
that she was thinking clearly, she was over thinking. One
could hardly expect a civilized human scientist to use the minimum
toilet facilities in the vacant cages.
    In the portable cage, the wolven still
occasionally threw himself against the bars. He’d managed to roll
the portable cage almost out of her line of vision, against the
cleanup sink, now minus one faucet, which no one else seemed to
care that he’d wrenched free. The smell of blistered flesh lingered
in the air.
    Naomi turned her attention back to her
psychic on the gurney. The lioness purred in her ear. His five
o’clock shadow bristled along his bruised jaw line, making him all
the more dangerous and sexy. He’d make a very suitable mate ,
the lioness whispered in the back of her mind. It had been so long
since she’d touched one of her own kind, much less anyone. She needed to touch him. Naomi reached out; her hand shook as
her emotions tumbled.
    The gurney jerked back out of reach and
Sanderson’s sick leer appeared in front of her cage. His muddy
colored eyes fixed on her breasts. “Uh-uh-uh. Sloppy work habits to
let the subjects fraternize. Tsk-tsk.” Sanderson looked down at her psychic, the evil intent in his gaze made her lioness
growl. The sound rumbled in her throat, giving her a thrill as
Sanderson’s eyes widened. He gave off a little whiff of fear before
controlling himself.
    She narrowed her eyes, the lioness’s
instincts coming to the fore. The little weasel would make
excellent prey. “What are you doing?” She snapped, tensing with the
urge to protect him. Too late, she remembered not to talk to the
enemy. They used whatever they could against you.
    Sanderson’s grin widened to new proportions
before he pulled the oxygen mask off. He slapped the man’s face.
“Wakey wakey, Ridley.” When consciousness began to return,
Sanderson slapped him a couple of more times for good measure. A
feline growl of protest welled up from her chest, joining in with
Nathan’s and Morrow’s. Frustration bit at her; she felt helpless to
help. The lioness paced inside her, making Naomi shift from foot to
foot as she quelled the urge to slam herself into the bars.
Sanderson bent nose to nose with his new ‘subject’. “Not the big
department manager now, are you Mr. Ridley? ”
    “Sander…” Ridley’s words trailed of as he
tried to focus on his surroundings. Meeting Naomi’s eyes, a jolt of
connection