When the search was completed and their good-byes were said, the four men finally left.
As the door closed behind them, Liza locked it with a snap then turned, crossed her arms beneath her br**sts once again and faced her still-silent friends.
“Well?” she demanded when they said nothing.
Claire moved into the living room and turned on the television. She increased the volume enough that once they moved into the kitchen, nothing they said could be heard over the din of the television.
“I didn’t say anything about this in the car, but don’t you remember what Isabelle said about mating while she was in the hospital?” Claire warned her somberly. “Did you let him kiss you while you two were on the dance floor?”
Liza’s gaze widened at the memory of what Isabelle had claimed a Breed’s kisses could do to a woman. “It had to be the drugs they had her on. Remember, she had a reaction to them?”
Isabelle had been half out of her mind from the pain after her near abduction by Holden Mayhew. Surely her warning that a Breed’s kiss was addictive and to watch out for mating had to be some far-fetched dementia caused by the drugs and amplified by her affection for her own Breed.
“Liza, she wasn’t joking,” Claire assured her, her gaze searching as she moved nearer.
Chelsea moved in just as close, listening in rapt attention.
“You can’t be sure of that, Claire.” Liza shook her head decisively. “There’s no proof.”
Claire swallowed tightly and spoke before Chelsea could. “Not proof, exactly. But remember when those Breed doctors arrived and took over her care?”
Liza nodded, as did Chelsea.
“I heard them talking when I slipped outside for some air. One of the doctors told the other that they didn’t like her reaction to the drugs while she was in mating heat and that the mating hormone was reacting strangely.”
Liza stared back at the other woman in disbelief.
“And you’re just now telling us this?” Chelsea hissed in disbelief. “Claire, how could you keep this from us? It’s been nearly a month. We could have kissed dozens of Breeds by now.”
Liza swung her head to the other girl, staring at her in surprise. “Dozens?” She blinked back at Chelsea uncertainly. “Sorry, girlfriend, I’m not exactly a teenager any longer. I don’t think I kissed that many boys even when I was a teenager. Hell, I haven’t kissed that many in my entire life.”
“I was being facetious.” Chelsea sighed. “You know what I meant.”
Claire bit her lip indecisively before drawing in a deep breath. “I thought I had to have misunderstood something, and I knew Malachi would never hurt her.” She lifted her hands in indecision. “But tonight, I knew I had to tell both of you when I saw how Liza was reacting to Mr. Black.” Her eyes widened a bit, the hazel depths filled with concern. “I’m still not certain I didn’t misunderstand something. I mean really, we were all in shock. And terrified. I could have misunderstood the entire conversation.”
Liza blew out a hard breath. “Wow,” she said in disbelief. “Those tabloid stories are true then.”
It was inconceivable. Yet no matter how much she wished she could brush away Claire’s information, she knew she couldn’t.
Isabelle’s reaction to Malachi Morgan had been much too intense to be considered normal, and Liza as well as Chelsea and Claire had known it.
But that was Claire. She kept to herself, and she kept others’ secrets very well. Her friends had always worried about that deep well of reserve she possessed and the quiet nature that often allowed others to run roughshod over her unless her friends put a stop to it.
“Damn, if those tabloid stories are true,” Chelsea hissed, “then it makes them like, f**k machines hyped on natural steroids.” She swallowed tightly, her expression almost glazed with wonder. “It would be like—”
“That’s enough, Chel.” Liza held her hand up quickly. “Enough with the adjectives, okay?”
The “fuck machine on steroids” was enough to make Liza’s body hum with amplified interest. She didn’t even need to hear anything more to assure her that allowing Stygian Black in her bed would definitely ruin her for any other man or Breed. For life. Period.
“But it’s only when they do that mating thing,” Claire reminded them. “That’s what the tabloids said, and from what those two doctors were saying, that’s true. Wolves only have one mate for life in the wild, right? It makes sense that Wolf Breeds would follow that course. Lions as well—”
“But Tigers, Coyotes and all those other wonderful species do not,” Chelsea assured her.
“Then it’s a quirk of nature or their creation.” Chelsea shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s something they’re obviously desperate to hide, otherwise the Breed scientists would have leaked it to the world themselves long ago.”
“Maybe.” Liza sighed.
She was going to overheat for sure. Liza could feel her body burning like an inferno at the thought of having a man, hell, a Breed, who belonged to her and her alone.