“Awww,” Sabina said. “Poor, freakishly sized She-wolf. She not so good at softball. Perhaps she should try something more in line with the width of her shoulders. Like pro football or security for zoo.”
Fed up, Dee pivoted on her foot, facing Sabina, the tip of her bat pressing against the wild dog’s mask.
“What will you do, manly She-wolf?” Sabina asked, the grin behind her mask practically begging for a fight. “What will you do to Sabina to make her cut you into long ribbons? Like meat for sub sandwich.”
Dee was about to show the little bitch exactly what she’d do when Sabina gripped the end of the bat and slowly stood. Her head tilted, ears twitching. Her wild dog hearing was picking up something.
Sabina snapped her fingers and pointed at the wild dog pups running loose. As one controlled unit, the wild dogs grabbed their children and Dee knew.
“Hyenas,” Sabina said, pointing toward the trees. “In there.”
Dee quickly looked around. She’d seen Ric and Teacup wander off into the woods, but no one else had. She hadn’t thought much about it either until now.
Tossing off the baseball helmet but gripping the bat tighter, Dee charged toward the trees, tracking Ric’s scent deeper into the park.
She caught up to him quickly. He’d shifted to his wolf form, Blayne by his side. Her large wild dog ears were plastered back against her head while she bared her fangs and went after any hyena that got too close. Ric circled around, catching a retreating male by the leg and dragging him back.
At first, Dee thought the hyenas were going after Blayne. It wouldn’t be the first time bored hyenas had gone after the wolfdog but this time . . . it wasn’t her. Or little Abby, who’d leaped onto the back of one large female, digging her claws into the hyena’s backside.
No, it was Hannah they were after—and she wasn’t moving. She sat with her back against a tree, her arms wrapped around her raised knees. She was still in her human form, her gaze locked on a distance far away. She wasn’t reacting at all to what was going on around her. There was no crying, no whimpering, no trying to get away. If Dee didn’t see everything that was going on, based on Hannah’s reaction, she’d think it was a quiet day in the park.
Cranky now, Dee stepped into the fray, swinging the bat she held, enjoying how it felt when she made contact with hyena bone and flesh. She sent the cackling bastards flying, knocking them out of the way until she reached Hannah’s side.
Catching the kid’s arm, Dee hauled Hannah to her feet. One of the hyenas shifted to human. A female, brown eyes raging. “Is she with you?” the hyena demanded, blood pouring from a gash on her head, her lip swelling.
Dee didn’t answer. Instead, she kept her grip tight on Hannah’s arm, trying to find the best way to pull her out of the battle.
“Keep that freak away from us. We’ve got cubs with us.”
The fact that the hyenas were doing exactly what Dee’s Pack would have done had one of the hyenas gotten too close didn’t change the fact that the wording still pissed her off. She pulled the bat back and the female shifted to her hyena form, turning to get away. But before Dee could follow through with her swing, Hannah caught the bat and easily held it, stopping Dee from doing anything with it.
“Let her go.”
“Were you just going to sit there?” Dee demanded. “Just going to let them beat the shit out of you?”
Without a reply, Hannah walked off, going deeper into the park. Dee threw down her bat and followed.
“You’re just leaving your friends? They’re fighting for you.”
“I didn’t ask them to.”
Knowing that no other species would be happy to have Hannah around or near their territory, Dee caught the girl’s arm and pulled her up short. “Stop.”
Hannah stopped. It appeared she wouldn’t fight Dee either.
“Is this it for you?” Dee asked her. “Is this how you plan to go through life?”
“I plan to mind my own business.”
“That’s great, but you can mind your own business on Van Holtz’s territory.”
Finally fed up, Hannah yanked her arm away from Dee. “I’m not a kid. I can leave when I want.”
“You go wandering around here, some other Pack, Pride, or Clan is going to rip you apart. Van Holtz won’t stand for that, so he’ll run in to rescue you—again. But I won’t let him get hurt because you’re too full of self-pity to protect yourself. Now move your ass back to the house, ’cause you are gettin’ on my last Confederate nerve.”
CHAPTER 24
T he hyenas were sent packing once the Shaw brothers joined the fray. Lion males always loving a good hyena slap-fest. The rest of the softball game went off without a hitch, the Kuznetsov Pack eking out a win, and the group returned to the house relatively unscathed, considering.
Hannah, still pissed off, had headed right to her room, slamming her door behind her. Abby trotted after her. Dee could hear her scratching at Hannah’s door until she was grudgingly let in. Dee guessed it was grudging by the annoyed sigh that she heard before the door slammed shut again. Honestly, Abby really was more canine than human based on the level of abuse she was willing to take.
Ric had left the game before the last inning even got underway, and when they all finally made their way back to his house, he already had the barbecue pits going and poor Stein pulling together side dishes for dinner in a few hours.
Yet as soon as everyone was back, they all split off again. Sissy and Bobby Ray took a chunk of the Pack off for some hunting; a large group of the wild dogs slathered sunscreen on their pups and took them down to the beach for a few hours before dinner; Mitch and Brendon Shaw passed out in lounge chairs by Ric’s pool, under big protective umbrellas, snoring away; Blayne went running because “I have so much panicked energy after that hyena fight, I have to do something! ”; Novikov did lap after lap in the pool; Gwen and Lock took a nap in their room . . . with the door closed (didn’t really sound like they were napping, though); and Dee-Ann wandered around Ric’s house being nosey.
She simply couldn’t help herself, though. Dee had never been inside a place like this before. Well, she’d never been invited inside a place like this in the daytime . . . without a weapon, a target, and specially designed night-vision eyewear that prevented her eyes from being seen in the dark.
Moving through the house, Dee marveled at all the space. So much room to get lost in for a social predator. Personally, Dee didn’t need all this indoor space. She didn’t need square footage. She needed acres. The three-bedroom house her parents lived in was more than enough for Dee because the house was surrounded by thirty or so acres of land. Acres that were part of a bigger Smith territory that Dee was free to run and hunt on as well.
And God help her, but some days she missed that territory more than she had a right.
Still, it was so strange being an actual invited guest in a place like this. Dee didn’t get invited to much unless her family was throwing the party, but Ric treated her like an honored guest. It made her feel special.
Taking her time, Dee explored the entire house. Funny, it was Ric’s first time staying at the place and yet the entire house had been furnished. Even his bookshelves were filled, and each of the large, flat-screen TVs had collections of DVDs nearby for random viewing. She thought of her pitiful apartment with no furniture and the growing family of steroid-using vermin and she wondered how Van Holtz managed to be so put together.
Dee headed up the stairs and down the long hallway. She could hear laughter and chatter coming from behind the doors and she smiled. She might not always feel comfortable being part of all that, but she did enjoy having it around, knowing that the people she cared for were happy and relaxed.
She passed a set of wide double doors, stumbling to a stop when one of them opened.
“Hey,” Ric said.
“Hey. Thought you were downstairs torturing your cousin.”
“That got boring. What are you doing?”
?
??Wandering around, being nosey.”
“Did that get boring yet?”
“Well—”
“Good.”
He caught hold of her forearm and yanked her into the bedroom, slamming the door behind them.
“Honestly,” she said when he pulled her into his arms and began walking her over to the big bed, “you have to be one of the horniest wolves I’ve ever known.”
“I can’t help myself. I’ve been waiting months to get you into my bed. Now that I’ve got you here, I’m not in the mood to let you go.”
“Don’t you have some cooking to do?”
“I don’t need to start working the grill for another hour.” He dropped them both to the bed, Ric on top of her.
Dee looped her arms around his neck. “A whole hour, huh? Now what do you think we can do for a whole hour?”
Ric jerked awake when he heard the banging on the door. “What?”
“Are we doing this or not?”
“Doing what?”
He could hear Stein sighing on the other side of the door. “Cooking food for these hungry, whining people.”
Ric glanced at the clock next to his bed. “But we still have—damn!” He sat up quickly, not realizing that Dee had been asleep on top of him until she rolled off and hit the floor.
“Dee!”
“I’m all right.” She sat up, scratching her head. “I love getting tossed out of bed like that. Makes it seem all dirty and wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” Ric slipped out of bed and helped her to her feet. Not that she needed the help, but he loved touching her. “I’ve got to get dinner on—”
“I know.” She began picking up her clothes. “Go on. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not spun glass, Van Holtz.”
“All right. All right. No need to get that tone.”
Ric dashed into the shower, scrubbed himself clean, and quickly put on clean jeans and a T-shirt. He kissed Dee before racing out of the bedroom and heading to the kitchen. He wrapped one of the white bandanas he kept in the kitchen drawer around his head and got to work. Somehow he managed to ignore the knocking at the window and the lion males whining about how hungry they were.
Absolutely the one breed of cat Ric couldn’t stand cooking for.
Dee got out of the shower, dried off, and slipped on a pair of cutoffs and a T-shirt. She was heading down the stairs when Reece Reed met her halfway. “Could you not keep the man busy when we’re all so damn hungry?”
Dee caught Reece’s T-shirt and lobbed him over the banister, enjoying the sound of him hitting the floor and whining about “the pain! My God, the pain!” She passed Rory sitting on the last steps, reading the local newspaper. “I tried to tell him not to bother you.”
“He was never a bright boy, your brother.”
“Nah. Never real bright.”
“You both do know I can hear you? I’m lying right here!”
Dee left the Reed brothers and walked into the kitchen.
“Gun?” she asked.
Without looking away from his work, Ric pointed at one of the high kitchen cabinets. “It’s buried in the back.”
“Thanks.” Dee went up on her toes and opened the cabinet, searching around until she found a .9 mm. “Bullets?”
“The third cabinet to the left in the teapot.”
Dee retrieved the magazine and popped it into the gun. She put a round in the chamber, walked over to the kitchen window, and aimed it at the two cats who stood on the other side of the glass, constantly roaring in an effort to get Ric to move faster. The Shaw brothers dove for cover and Dee put the safety back on the weapon and returned the gun and the magazine to their original hiding places.
“Thanks,” Ric said.
“No problem.”
Ric was slicing potatoes for his last-minute decision to make his potatoes au gratin when Blayne ran in. His knife paused in mid-cut, his eyes narrowing on her.
“What are those?” he demanded.
Panting and sweating from her workout, Blayne frowned and looked behind her. “Oh! Strays.” She smiled. “They started running with me.”
“Get them out of my kitchen.”
“But—”
“Out!”
Blayne’s smile turned into a pout. “You are so mean!”
“And they’re filthy. Remove them or I’m adding them to the menu.”
Gasping in indignation, Blayne walked out the back hallway, the stray dogs following. Ric returned to his work but listened for the back door to open and close. A few minutes later, Blayne returned.
“Happy now?”
“I’ll be happier when you get out, too.”
Blayne gasped again. “Me?”
“You’re sweating all over my floor, and I don’t want you anywhere near the food until you take a shower.” He gestured to the swinging kitchen door that led to the front hallway. “Now go. Schnel!”
“Don’t bark at me in German! I hate when you bark at me in German!”
She stormed out—again—and Ric went back to work.
“What can I help you with?” Dee asked him.
“Help?”
“You know. As in assisting.”
“Uh . . . I don’t really know what you can help with. Unlike me, you haven’t been trained since birth to handle yourself in a Van Holtz kitchen. What if you crack under the pressure?”
“Do you want my help or not, Van Holtz?”
Chuckling, Ric admitted, “Stein might need you more at the grill.”
“Okay.”
“Hey. Come here.”
“Why?”
Ric faced her. “Move that cute butt, Smith.”
She walked over to him and he kissed her. “Don’t let my cousin smooth-talk you into doing all the work or try to take you away from me. Understand?”
“I enjoy how you think I’d let anyone but you get away with half the shit you try.”
“As long as we understand each other.”
“We do.” She kissed him again, their arms slipping around each other, their mouths and tongues exploring.
Until . . .
“Are you two at it again?” Stein demanded. “I’m drowning out there! And if those cats don’t get away from me . . .”
Dee-Ann pulled away, laughing as she did. “I’ll handle it,” she told Ric. “You just keep making your potatoes au gratin.”
“What makes you think I’m making that?”
“Because you’d better be.”
She turned away from him and headed toward Stein. “Let’s go, kid. I’ll help you out.”
Stein plastered himself against the wall, blue eyes focusing on Ric’s She-wolf. “You?” he asked. “You . . . you’re going to help me?”
Dee stepped in close, her arms crossed over her chest. “Is that gonna be a problem, hoss?”
“No. No, sir . . . er . . . ma’am. No, ma’am.”
He eased away from her, his back pressed into the wall until he hit the doorway, then he sprinted for freedom.
“I do have a way with the young ones, don’t I?” Dee asked before she followed Stein.
“Sure, you do,” Ric muttered to himself. “Just like parole officers and wardens.”
“I heard that, Van Holtz,” she called back.
And Ric laughed, enjoying this weekend way more than he’d ever thought he could.
CHAPTER 25
D ee woke up on Fourth of July morning alone. But on the pillow next to her was a note and a granola bar.
Had to run into town with Stein for more breakfast food—damn lions! We’ll be back soon. Please eat this until I return. I’m afraid you’ll start feeding on your own muscle mass if you don’t get some food in you.
Chuckling, Dee sat up and ate her granola bar. She was nearly done when she heard the howling from beneath her window.
“What?” she asked her cousin once she’d opened the window.
“Couldn’t you put on a T-shirt or something?”
> “It’s not like you haven’t seen my tits before, Sissy Mae.”
“That’s not the point. There’s a time and place!”
“When did you become Sally Etiquette?”
“Just get your suit on. We’re hittin’ the beach.”
“I just woke up and—”
“Not a request. Just move your ass, cousin.”
“Fine.”
“I know it’s fine. In fact, it better be goddamn fine!”
“Heifer.”
“Rich man’s whore!”
“At least mine can cook the food he eats. And replaces it, too.”
“Now see, Dee-Ann Smith. That was just mean!”
Ric adored farmer’s markets. Fresh produce and dairy and relatively friendly people, and a healthy mix of full-humans and shifters. It was perfect. Even his cousin’s constant complaints couldn’t bring him down.
“Do you think Dee’s more a roses kind of girl? Or lilies?” he asked.
Stein stared at him. “Honestly? I think a machine gun and ample ammo is more your scary girlfriend’s speed, cousin.”
“See how you are?” Ric shook his head. “She keeps telling me I shouldn’t be so tough on you, and here you are, talking shit about her.”
“I wasn’t talking shit about her. God, please don’t tell that woman I was talking shit about her. She’s liable to cut my head off and wear it on her jacket as a brooch. And you are being too tough on me. I haven’t had a moment to relax or enjoy the pool, get in a little tennis, nothing, since I’ve become your indentured servant.”
“You owe me, Stein. Don’t forget what you owe me.”
“How can I? You won’t let me.”
“Is it so impossible for you to realize that you have to work your way back up? That you’re still not going to get a kitchen when you haven’t been trained?”
“How is washing dishes and scrubbing floors training?”
“My best cooks started off washing dishes and scrubbing floors.”
“They’re also not blood relations and they’re mostly immigrants.”