might leave the Pack if you attempt to abscond with their money.”
“Aaaah. I forgot about the opposable-thumb flaw.” She held up her hands, wiggled her thumbs. “Damn these thumbs. Damn them!”
Ric laughed, so glad now that he’d had sink problems. Blayne always had a way of getting his mind off . . . well, pretty much everything.
“So here’s my plan,” she said, pouring herself more orange juice. “July Fourth is coming up and I’m thinking about getting Bo to throw a party for all my friends. Doesn’t that sound great?”
“Why would you do that to us, Blayne?” Ric asked honestly. “You know we love you and you abuse that by trying to force us to spend time with that cretin.”
“He is not a cretin. He’s misunderstood!”
“I’m surprised his knuckles aren’t dragging on the ground and that he can create whole sentences with subject-verb agreement.”
She shook her finger in his face. “I will make you and Lock and Bo get along. Nothing will stop me from making you three the best of friends!”
“You mean besides my and Lock’s moral outrage on Novikov’s existence on this very planet? Allowed to breathe our precious air?”
Blayne’s lips twisted briefly before she asked, “Can’t you just say you find him annoying?”
“I find Lock’s insistence I don’t put enough honey in my honey glaze annoying. I find Novikov offensive and barbaric.”
Blayne let out a big sigh. “Yeah . . . so does everyone.”
“But everyone loves you,” he reminded her.
“Of course, they do. I’m Blayne.” She grinned. “They can’t fight my charm.”
At that point, they both started laughing and it took them forever to stop.
They had each other in a headlock when the front desk admin, Charlene, walked into the cafeteria. “Dee-Ann!”
“What?”
“Detective MacDermot’s here. And you know there’s no interspecies fighting allowed on Group territory.”
Dee and Malone immediately separated and Dee said, “We weren’t fightin’. Right, Malone?”
“Right. We were . . . training.”
Charlene folded her arms over her chest. “Training? Really?”
“I’m hearin’ tone,” Dee warned. She motioned to the door with a tilt of her head and headed out of the cafeteria. “Where’s MacDermot?”
“Waiting out front for you—and you did hear tone,” Charlene called after her.
Dee was passing one of the training rooms when Malone caught the sleeve of her denim jacket. “You’re gettin’ them kinda young, Smith.” Malone motioned to the young hybrids getting trained in hand-to-hand combat.
“Those are kids we’ve been finding around town.”
“Shouldn’t you take them to social services or something?”
“They’re hybrids.”
“All of them?”
“Yep.”
“Were they all used for fighting?”
“Just a couple. Like that girl sitting in the corner, glaring at us through the glass?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Hannah.”
Malone glanced at Dee. “You brought her back? ’Cause she looks a little . . .”
“Dead inside?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t have much choice. Couldn’t handle the whining.”
“She whines?”
“Not her, but a teacup poodle.”
“Canines have teacup poodle shifters now?”
Dee was about to answer, then realized it was a stupid conversation, and instead just walked away. She went out the front doors and immediately smiled. “Who is that handsome cat?” she asked, reaching down to pick up the young cub who’d charged into her legs.
She tossed Marcus Llewellyn high in the air, loving the laughter she got from him.
“Not too high,” Desiree squeaked. “As we’ve found out a few times, too high and he’ll hook himself to overhangs.”
“Are you still bringing that up?” Mace Llewellyn demanded, coming around the couple’s car to give Dee-Ann a hug and kiss.
She still remembered the day the cat rolled into Smithtown, with Dee’s cousin Bobby Ray, acting like he owned the joint. Although he had the protection of Bobby Ray,
“Aaaah. I forgot about the opposable-thumb flaw.” She held up her hands, wiggled her thumbs. “Damn these thumbs. Damn them!”
Ric laughed, so glad now that he’d had sink problems. Blayne always had a way of getting his mind off . . . well, pretty much everything.
“So here’s my plan,” she said, pouring herself more orange juice. “July Fourth is coming up and I’m thinking about getting Bo to throw a party for all my friends. Doesn’t that sound great?”
“Why would you do that to us, Blayne?” Ric asked honestly. “You know we love you and you abuse that by trying to force us to spend time with that cretin.”
“He is not a cretin. He’s misunderstood!”
“I’m surprised his knuckles aren’t dragging on the ground and that he can create whole sentences with subject-verb agreement.”
She shook her finger in his face. “I will make you and Lock and Bo get along. Nothing will stop me from making you three the best of friends!”
“You mean besides my and Lock’s moral outrage on Novikov’s existence on this very planet? Allowed to breathe our precious air?”
Blayne’s lips twisted briefly before she asked, “Can’t you just say you find him annoying?”
“I find Lock’s insistence I don’t put enough honey in my honey glaze annoying. I find Novikov offensive and barbaric.”
Blayne let out a big sigh. “Yeah . . . so does everyone.”
“But everyone loves you,” he reminded her.
“Of course, they do. I’m Blayne.” She grinned. “They can’t fight my charm.”
At that point, they both started laughing and it took them forever to stop.
They had each other in a headlock when the front desk admin, Charlene, walked into the cafeteria. “Dee-Ann!”
“What?”
“Detective MacDermot’s here. And you know there’s no interspecies fighting allowed on Group territory.”
Dee and Malone immediately separated and Dee said, “We weren’t fightin’. Right, Malone?”
“Right. We were . . . training.”
Charlene folded her arms over her chest. “Training? Really?”
“I’m hearin’ tone,” Dee warned. She motioned to the door with a tilt of her head and headed out of the cafeteria. “Where’s MacDermot?”
“Waiting out front for you—and you did hear tone,” Charlene called after her.
Dee was passing one of the training rooms when Malone caught the sleeve of her denim jacket. “You’re gettin’ them kinda young, Smith.” Malone motioned to the young hybrids getting trained in hand-to-hand combat.
“Those are kids we’ve been finding around town.”
“Shouldn’t you take them to social services or something?”
“They’re hybrids.”
“All of them?”
“Yep.”
“Were they all used for fighting?”
“Just a couple. Like that girl sitting in the corner, glaring at us through the glass?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Hannah.”
Malone glanced at Dee. “You brought her back? ’Cause she looks a little . . .”
“Dead inside?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t have much choice. Couldn’t handle the whining.”
“She whines?”
“Not her, but a teacup poodle.”
“Canines have teacup poodle shifters now?”
Dee was about to answer, then realized it was a stupid conversation, and instead just walked away. She went out the front doors and immediately smiled. “Who is that handsome cat?” she asked, reaching down to pick up the young cub who’d charged into her legs.
She tossed Marcus Llewellyn high in the air, loving the laughter she got from him.
“Not too high,” Desiree squeaked. “As we’ve found out a few times, too high and he’ll hook himself to overhangs.”
“Are you still bringing that up?” Mace Llewellyn demanded, coming around the couple’s car to give Dee-Ann a hug and kiss.
She still remembered the day the cat rolled into Smithtown, with Dee’s cousin Bobby Ray, acting like he owned the joint. Although he had the protection of Bobby Ray,
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