He’d have fared far better had he not screamed like a little girl as Graeme flashed the wicked canines at the side of his mouth in a vicious snarl no more than an inch from his face.
“Medic will be here in a bit,” he called back. “We’ll get you something to eat later, a drink maybe. Then we’ll see what your skin looks like hanging on the wall to dry.”
Hell, how much water was the bastard’s kidneys holding anyway? If he pissed himself much more, then he was going to dehydrate for sure.
“Graeme, stop terrorizing the prisoner,” Lobo ordered as Graeme stepped into the control room and locked the door behind him.
“Boss.” Graeme nodded. “Surprised to see you here.”
Hell, this f**king Wolf was like a ghost or something. He was one of the few men that could slip into the control room and watch him without Graeme sensing his presence.
“Yes, I would imagine you are,” Lobo answered, his hooded gaze watching him carefully. “You know, the Bureau of Breed Affairs has an APB out on a Bengal Breed that was once dissected and skinned alive. Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Graeme blinked back at him in surprise. “I don’t know about the Bengal part, but I could produce a Lion Breed that’s been up close and personal with it,” he grunted, biting back his fury. “Fuckers damned near drove me crazy.”
They had stolen his mind. Hell, they might have stolen his soul.
“Still claiming Lion status are you?” Lobo questioned lazily.
“Registered and everything,” Graeme growled back at him. “Do you have a problem with me, boss?”
“No, no problem at all.” Lobo shook his head. “But, perhaps you have a problem with me.”
That one stopped him.
“What kind of problem?” Graeme asked carefully, allowing his suspicion to show rather than hiding it behind a wall of stoicism as he would have before coming to the Reever lands.
“A problem concerning my loyalty to those who give me theirs,” he stated softly. “You’ve proven yourself more than once, and I’ve expressed several times that loyalty goes both ways here. I’m not a man you have to lie to, unless you’re out to deceive me.”
“I’ll spread the word, boss.” Graeme nodded, staring back at Reever as though uncertain where he was going with the chastisement. “I’ll assure each of them, of my own personal belief that you mean every word you’re saying too.”
Yeah, right. This man and Jonas Wyatt were rumored to be thick as f**king thieves. And Wyatt was overturning every f**king stone in New Mexico searching for the Bengal he had that APB on. That would be one stupid f**ker if he trusted Lobo with his identity.
Lobo’s lips quirked in amusement. “You do that, Graeme,” he murmured. “You do that.” Then he turned back to the security glass and stared at the prisoner as he crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “Have you called the medic?”
“Yep. He’ll be here soon.” Graeme leaned against the wall, his lips curling in amusement as he glanced at the prisoner himself. “I think he’s going to need rehydration soon though. The bastard keeps pissing himself.”
Lobo grunted at that. “Coward.”
“Now, boss, maybe he just doesn’t have very strong kidneys, ya know? What do they call that? Inconsistency or some shit?”
“Incontinence,” Lobo snorted.
“Or something.” He shrugged. “I’ll have the medic strap an IV to his ass and rehydrate him so we can help him relieve himself again.”
“We’re keeping him?” Lobo asked, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Graeme’s intent.
“Why not,” Graeme drawled. “The boy has friends. Long-association-type friends. Those kinds of friends come looking for you when you’re missing.”
“Loyalty,” Lobo murmured then, still staring at the prisoner.
“Stupidity,” Graeme retorted. “But, I can work with that kind of stupidity if given a chance.”
Lobo nodded. “Very well, see what you can do with it. You have three days to draw his friends out, then I want him stitched up, patched up and ready to fly out to Haven to appear before the Wolf Breed Tribunal for sentencing. He struck against a Wolf Breed and conspired to kidnap one to turn her over to research. That’s a capital offense and only the Tribunal can sentence him for it.”
“Only if he survives the transfer.” Graeme smiled coldly. “Stupid bastards like that try to escape, get killed and save the Tribunal hours of needless debate and months of protests by humans.”
Lobo chuckled at that. “Yeah, but hell, they like their little amusements as well.” The look he gave Graeme was one he assumed brooked no refusal.