Someone was playing games.
Kiowa breathed in deeply, fighting to ignore the smell of hot willing flesh just behind him. Dammit, it wasn’t like he did without sex. He shouldn’t be so f**king aroused, so hungry to devour that sweet little body laid out like a pasha’s favorite toy.
“Any ideas?” he asked Simon then.
Simon shrugged, his shoulders flexing beneath the dark T-shirt he wore as he glanced at Amanda again.
“Word reached me there was a hit planned. Just as Dash told you. The blood supremacists have plans to use her to influence the vote next week on Breed Law. Somehow, they must have found a way to keep her disappearance from leaking to the general public. Though how they intended to do that I have no clue. Someone real close to President Marion would have to be involved in it.”
The other man’s eyes flickered to the bed behind Kiowa again. Turning, Kiowa wished he had stayed put. She was shifting beneath the blankets, a low, weak moan filling the air.
“Did you drug her?” Simon’s tone was suspicious as he watched the girl.
“No, and they didn’t either.” He pushed his fingers through his long black hair and fought to get a handle on his hunger. “Damned if know what happened. They hit her on the head, but if she was drugged, I can’t sense it.”
And Kiowa was damned good at sensing drugs.
“She’s not exactly aware.” Stephanie stepped closer to the bed, a frown marking her dark brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she had a dose of Rohypnol.”
Kiowa ground his teeth together furiously. “You think I need to pump someone full of date rape drugs to get f**ked, Steph?”
Her eyes widened innocently. “With that dick? Duh. I’m certain of it. But I was accusing them more than you.”
“I know what that shit smells like.” He grimaced. He knew only too well. “She’s not drugged.”
Simon moved to the bed while Kiowa felt every muscle in his body tense in objection to the other man going anywhere near her.
She shifted on the bed again, the blanket moving with her splayed, bound legs as her br**sts heaved beneath it. He tightened his jaw, gritting his teeth as another wave of heat washed over him. Simon reached for the blanket.
The warning growl that came from Kiowa’s throat was accompanied by a snarl. He knew what the others saw. Curved canines flashing at the side of his mouth as he moved quickly to push Simon out of the way.
“Don’t f**king touch her.” The low, rumbling sound of his voice shocked him as much as it did Simon.
“This is a problem, Kiowa.” He frowned then, his blue eyes flashing in anger. “If she dies, we’re up shit creek.”
“She’s not going to die,” he snapped, certain of that fact.
“Kiowa, pay attention here,” Simon spoke with sarcastic patience. “You’re not a stupid man. Look at her. Something is f**king wrong with her.”
“Goddammit I know that,” he shot back, frustration eating at him. “The same f**king thing is wrong with me, now get the hell off my back.”
He paced to the end of the bed. Bad idea. The smell of her arousal was like a punch to his gut. Something was wrong, and damned if it wasn’t killing him too.
“Call him.” He turned on Simon again. “Now!”
Simon’s eyes widened. “Man, you don’t just call him. He calls you.”
She moaned again, a low distressed sound that twisted his gut and made his c**k jerked in demand.
“Simon, you have three seconds to call him,” he snarled. “After that I’m going to rip your f**king head off your shoulders and jerk your guts out your throat. And I can do it.”
He was one of the few men that would try.
“You’re gonna get my ass kicked,” Simon snarled.
“Better kicked than dead,” Kiowa retorted. “Don’t push me Simon. I want to talk to him now.”
Simon jerked the cell phone from its hip holder and punched a button furiously before handing the phone to Kiowa.