Graeme’s nostrils flared in displeasure. “Very well.” He gave in so easily that Cullen’s gaze narrowed on him. “I’ll inform Cat so she can take your name off the invitation list. She can find another damned dinner partner for her friend Chelsea Martinez. Miss Martinez will probably thank her for it.”
Cullen froze for a single heartbeat, a flash of something akin to horror racing through his mind. People, Breeds and humans alike, who associated with Graeme usually ended up in harm’s way. Many had been known to die.
He came slowly from his seat in the next heartbeat.
“What the hell are you up to?” Rage began licking the edges of his control, fraying it with a flame that threatened to engulf him. “And don’t bother lying to me. I know you too damned well.”
Graeme tipped his head to the side at a curiously thoughtful angle. “I believe I’ll offer her the position of Cat’s assistant. I know her, her training.” His lips tilted into a smug grin. “And her trainer. I’m rather leaning her way; there are just a few things to consider first. I had hoped to get to know her better by inviting her to Cat’s little dinner party.”
Cullen had trained her for the most part. For four years he’d invested more hours than he cared to calculate in her training. And he knew she was good. Good enough to steal Coyote prey from beneath their noses and get her to safety. But that was far different from workin
g for Graeme.
“No,” he snapped, furious. “What the hell do you think you’re doing even considering putting her in the line of fire? She’ll have a price on her head within a week if she goes to work for you or Cat.”
Graeme’s brow arched. That superior, arrogant calculation that was so much a part of his brother was readily apparent now.
“I’m considering her because no one would expect her to be the fighter she truly is, and the fact that she managed to work for you for four years means she has plenty of patience,” Graeme countered softly, with no small amount of menace. “She’d be a good fit for the position. And her training means she’d be prepared should anything happen. I like to be prepared.”
He liked to be prepared? Graeme was never prepared. He flew by the seat of his pants, his arrogance refusing to accept that he could lose. There was no preparation, only bloodshed.
“Chelsea is not bulletproof.” Cullen came around the desk before he considered the move. Nearly nose to nose with a creature even the hardest soldiers, the most fanatical killers flinched in the face of. “You know hiring her is out of the question.”
Graeme actually had the temerity to laugh. “Being a friend of yours does not automatically disqualify someone from working with me. On the contrary, her training is excellent . . .”
“She belongs here. Keep your damned nose out of it and she’ll be back,” he argued, furious.
His brother only laughed. “After a month? Is that what you really believe, brother?” The grin that curled his lips was more a smirk. It was going to be a bloody smirk soon.
“You will not hire her.” Cullen’s tone lowered to a deliberate, roughened warning that would have had every man under his command paling if they had been in the room.
Graeme merely stared back at him without so much as a blink.
“Or what?” his twin asked knowingly. “How will you enforce that order? When you’re strong enough to survive the animal I hold back, then you can make such demands. Just because you wish it doesn’t mean she’ll return. And just because she’s a woman isn’t reason enough to refuse her a job she’s perfectly qualified for.” He flashed a deadly smile. “Or did you forget? A woman will kill an enemy faster than any male simply because it’s unexpected. Besides, Cat likes her.”
Cullen’s fury was completely ignored. He could feel it. The knowledge of it was pumping through his bloodstream, burning at his mind. The rage that enveloped him consumed him.
Uncaring of the strength of the monster he’d set loose by enraging his brother, Cullen’s fist flew out and connected with Graeme’s face, and to both their amazement, the blow threw the Breed back with a force that put him on his ass.
For about a heartbeat.
With an agile flip Graeme was back on his feet, crouching, waiting, as a chuckle slipped past the amused smile on his face and he slowly straightened.
His smirk was now tinged with blood, not that the sight of it satisfied Cullen in the least.
“That was rather surprising,” Graeme stated, one broad hand lifting to work his jaw as he stared back at Cullen, eyes narrowing, his expression flashing with a hint of calculating knowledge. “You’re still invited to dinner, though I suspect Cat will have words with you for the bruise that will no doubt mar my handsome profile.”
Egotistical, snide, arrogant bastard . . .
“Go to hell, you mangy, black-hearted fucker. I told you I’m busy,” Cullen muttered, turning his back on his brother as he pushed his fingers through his hair and fought the need to push Graeme into a full-fledged fight.
Not that Cullen thought he’d survive, but at least he could expend the fury raging through him.
“I’ll be sure to inform Cat that she needs to find another male to fill your seat next to Ms. Martinez.” Graeme only laughed at the rage.
Moving behind his desk once again, Cullen stared back at his brother, jaw clenched, fighting back the need to tear something, anything, apart.
“Why?” he bit out furiously. “Why stick your nose in this? If I wanted her in the line of fire I’d have given her operational status here. You know that.”