Primal by Lora Leigh Page B

fingers tightening once more on Kita’s wrist to hold her in place.
    “I came for my niece,” he snapped. “Wyatt thinks he’s so damned smart. So damned careful,” he sneered. “I heard him, just as I heard his plans to turn Kita Claire into a fucking breeder for one of his Breeds. A Breed that had managed to gain her trust.”
    Kita stiffened, her harshly indrawn breath attesting to her shock, and he feared, her belief in what Brandenmore was saying or what she was seeing.
    An uncle from the past, not the present. A man who now stared at her with reptilian eyes, a sneer on his lips when his attention turned to Creed.
    A man whose hired guns were pointed in her direction.
     
     
    KITA COULDN’T BELIEVE what she was seeing, what was happening around her. He looked like her uncle before she had even been born. This was the man who had stood so proudly in his sister’s wedding pictures, the man who had held his newborn niece, his expression gentle and filled with love.
    Her uncle wasn’t this young, and it wasn’t possible to turn back time, to return to youth no matter how much one might want to.
    “Who are you?” she finally whispered. “You can’t be Uncle Phillip. It’s simply not possible.”
    But it was possible. She stared back at him as an odd smile tugged at his lips.
    There was no warmth or compassion in this man. There was no love, no gentleness as she had always seen in his face when her mother had been alive. There was none of the grief she had seen in his face when his beloved sister had died.
    “Of course it can be,” he said. “I must say, Kita Claire, I never expected this of you.” He waved his hand to Creed as a look of distaste crossed his face. “Sleeping with the enemy, child? And one of a different species? I’m very disappointed.”
    Kita was terrified.
    She shook her head. “I don’t know you.”
    Desperation laced her voice, a plea that someone explain, rationalize, that they assure her this really wasn’t the uncle she once loved so dearly.
    He clicked his tongue, a mocking sound that raked across her senses and sent fear racing through her.
    “Of course you do, child.” He smiled back at her. “You just don’t want to accept it. I’ve discovered the fountain of youth. The elixir of cures.” Excitement lit his eyes. “I’ve searched for it all my life, Kita. I dreamed of finding it before your mother died. Before the cancer killed her. I could have saved her.” For a moment, fanatical rage lit his eyes. “She could be alive today, young and whole, if I had found it sooner.”
    “It’s destroyed his mind, Kita,” Creed whispered softly.
    “Shut up!” Phillip’s furious scream made her flinch as her breath hitched painfully, fearfully. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. My mind isn’t destroyed. Those Breed doctors are crazy themselves. I’ve tested it before!” Spittle gathered at his lips as Kita forced back her tears. “I know what I’m doing.”
    His attention turned back to Kita. “You would have thanked me later if this bastard hadn’t mated you.” He flung his hand toward Creed in a gesture of fury. “Son of a bitch had to go ruin it. You could have kept your youth, Kita, without having to fuck this animal.”
    Kita shook her head, terrified now.
    “You haven’t told her?” Phillip suddenly became amused, calm. “Haven’t you told her, Breed, how that hormone you’ve infected her with will stop her aging? How she’ll remain young and beautiful, and you’ll remain in your prime, strong and fully able to fuck her?” he sneered the last.
    “Creed?” she whispered his name.
    “Later, baby, I promise.” It was only a breath of sound.
    “Unfortunately, not later.” Phillip gave a happy, satisfied little sigh as Kita watched him warily.
    This was a monster standing in her uncle’s skin.
    “Let Kita go, Brandenmore,” Creed stated, his voice dark, held tightly in control. “We’ll deal with this, just between the two of