"You and Jonas have produced a hormone that if we could figure out how it works, could help to ease the heat in our females," Elizabeth told her. "Even I, once every three months, experience that irrational, torturous need as my body attempts to force me to conceive."
"Even when you're pregnant?" Rachel asked.
Elizabeth paused. "The hormones are different then."
"Do you breast-feed? I breast-fed for the first few months, I know I had to be very careful of my diet. Is that a problem with mating heat?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "I thought for years there had to be a correlation. There were only rare times that my desire for my mate was normal, Rachel. But I found nothing unusual then."
Rachel shrugged. "I'm not a scientist, Dr. Vanderale, nor do I pretend to understand what you're dealing with here. But I will tell you, I'm not dealing with it any longer. You have all you're getting from me."
"You're selfish." The accusation from Ely surprised her, and obviously surprised Elizabeth as well. "Jonas deserves better than a mate who refuses to make the sacrifices he's made all his life for his people."
"Exactly," Rachel stated coolly. "He's sacrificed all his life with little understanding and even less consideration from the majority of you. When was the last time Jonas was asked not to sacrifice for someone? Not to find a way to manipulate or work miracles? When was the last time he was allowed to be a man?"
"He's not a man, he's a Breed," Ely snapped back.
"And you're in love with him." The knowledge was more intuition than based on evidence. "But you're not his mate."
Elizabeth inhaled sharply.
"Jonas is just a friend," Ely argued stiffly.
Rachel rose from the gurney, gathered her clothing from a nearby counter and moved for the bathroom.
"And I'm finished with this argument. I refuse to argue with you, Ely." She turned back to the doctor, seeing the anger and confusion in her eyes. "Jonas thinks very highly of you, but I wouldn't suggest attempting to try to convince him that I'm not his mate. That friendship could be damaged in ways you don't want to face if you do so."
Stepping into the small bathroom, Rachel re-dressed as she fought to get a handle on her own emotions. Ely wasn't a threat to her relationship with Jonas, she tried to assure herself. They were mates; that was for life. There was no way to break it. And Jonas loved her. He had told her he loved her. She was his life.
Moving back to the main lab, she faced a single person, clearly waiting for her. Elizabeth Vanderale was working at one of the intricate machines that lined a counter.
"Ely sees Jonas as her white knight," Elizabeth said as she turned, propped herself against the counter and watched Rachel. "She's protective of him, Rachel. And perhaps confused by her own feelings."
"He's mine." She wasn't about to let him go.
Elizabeth nodded. "I couldn't have asked for a better mate for him. You'll complete him, Rachel. That's important."
There was something sad, something regretful in the other woman.
"Why is that so important to you? I haven't noticed Leo caring. The best he can manage is to cut at Jonas each chance he has."
Elizabeth glanced away and drew in a hard breath. When her gaze returned to Rachel, it was filled with sorrow, and longing.
"Jonas knows the answer to that, Rachel," she stated. "And only he can fix Leo's disposition where he's concerned. I've done all I can do."
"Because the boy is too damned stubborn by far."
Rachel whirled around. The Leo stood just inside the main door, a glare on his face as he moved across the room to his mate. "He's trying to throw us out and send us back to Africa," he snapped. "He never misses a chance to remind me that he doesn't want me here."
Once again, that particular flash of pain whipped through Elizabeth's gaze.
"The two of you have no idea how to handle Jonas." Rachel could only shake her head at them.
"And you think you can?" Leo's voice rumbled with irritation. "No one can handle that whelp."
"You don't handle Jonas, exactly. Try being honest with him. And stop calling him a by-blow and a whelp. How insulting c
an a father get to his own son? It's no wonder he finds every opportunity to remind you that you claim your home is in Africa, rather than here."