Shelly Laurenston: Here Kitty, Kitty!

“I think I have to agree with him on this.”

“Honestly, Sara. What is your thing for cowboys?”

“Dude, they’re hot.”

“And poor you. Stuck with tiny, weak Zach.” Angie stood up, smoothing out her silk skirt, once again elegant and composed—at least that was the illusion she gave. An illusion she worked hard to maintain.

“I didn’t say Zach was a letdown or anything. If I could just get him into a cowboy hat, I’d be one happy bitch.”

“You’re already happy. Much more and you’ll be walking around in a state of constant orgasm, which would get on my last goddamn nerve.”

“Everything gets on your last goddamn nerve.”

“This is true.” Crouching down, Angie grabbed her bag from behind the counter. She briefly debated whether to grab the solid wood bat lying next to her Louis Vuitton purse. She’d owned the “Bitch’s Hammer” ever since she took it from the guy trying to use it on her. She smiled at the memory.

Never underestimate a teenage girl wearing Candies .

Angie decided to forgo her trusty weapon of choice since she had her sweet little Glock .9mm shoved in her bag. A birthday gift three months ago from Sara and Miki.

She stood up and nodded at her two saleswomen. They would make sure to close up her shop later and handle everything while she was away. Normally, she’d stay until closing, but she had packing to do. A rather dramatic and time-intensive event for her.

She re-adjusted the headphones attached to her cell phone. “Did you hear again from Mik?”

“Not since they stopped to get gas. I don’t know what’s going on, but that was a ‘dangerously calm’ Miki I spoke to. Not a good thing.”

Angie winced. “My God, that can’t be good.”

“No shit.”

No. Not a good thing at all. Although Sara was no better. When she got quiet—the universe needed to notice.

“And Conall? Recovery a-okay?”

“He’s fine. Although I’m pretty sure he’s the one who pissed her off.”

“Probably. But not really surprising. This is Miki we’re talking about. Think she told him she loves him yet?” Angie headed toward the exit, her ridiculously expensive bag swinging casually from her hand.

“Are you kidding? He’s going to have to work for that.”

Angie stopped and looked at the two men who’d been in her store everyday for the past week. She remembered them from the airport when she dropped off Miki. They were damn gorgeous, but she really liked the other one. Shame he didn’t seem to be with them.

One of the men stared at the scarves, pretending that they hadn’t been staring at her.

She smiled while trying to keep a straight face. “That teal scarf would look fabulous on you.”

The one holding the scarf in his huge hand looked at it and back at her. Frowning.

She laughed and strolled away. What boneheads .

Angie pushed the glass doors open and walked out. “My plane arrives tomorrow at four ten. Flight eight-sixty.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got all the info. We’ll meet you at the airport.” Sara sighed. “And look, until you get here, I want you to be careful. They targeted Miki specifically, but I don’t know if they’re coming after you or not.”

“Please don’t start. Again. Besides, I’m in Pack territory and Marrec will be taking me to the airport. I’ll be fine.” She sauntered toward her Mercedes.

“Angelina don’t ignore—”

“Bye, Sara. Call me when Miki gets there.” She ended the connection. Her friend could be quite the mother wolf when her friends were threatened.

Angie remotely unlocked her door and stopped, the hackles on her neck snapping to full attention. She spun on her expensive heels and came face-to-face with a woman.

Well…at least she thought it was a woman. A woman she’d seen once or twice the past week at the diner, just outside town. Angie didn’t like the woman staring at her then. And she sure as fuck didn’t like it now.

Whatever . All Angie needed to know was this woman wasn’t Pack, too small and boringly dressed to be Pride, and definitely not completely human.

Sometimes Angie wished she could be more like Miki with her fast-moving mind. Mik could analyze anything in seconds and come up with a satisfying solution. Or like Sara. With her calm, controlled demeanor—as long as no tequila was involved. Angie wasn’t like either of her two best friends, and specialists had actually analyzed her fight or flight response. Because she never did what everyone else did. Ever.

Angie slammed her handbag, heavy with her Glock, against the head of the woman across from her. Squealing in surprise, the female stumbled. Nope, they never saw Angie coming. Always their mistake. And to prove that point, Angie hit her again. The buckle on the side of her bag cut a gash across the woman’s face. Blood splashed across Angie’s arm and ruined her bag.

The female hit the ground, and Angie slammed her foot against the woman’s windpipe, pushing down.

Gasping, the female fought to get Angie’s foot off, but Angie gritted her teeth and pushed harder.

Something, a movement from the corner of her eye or a sound, distracted her from the prey under her feet. She spared a glance to the left of her. The two men, the ones from her shop, were moving toward her.

At first, she wondered if they were coming to rescue her or the woman whose windpipe she happily crushed under her Chanels.

She heard another sound and turned to see animals, not lions but not quite dogs either, bursting full-throttle from the woods behind her store’s parking lot.

Angie reached into her bag for her Glock while turning to warn off the men. But limbs shifted, fur grew, fangs appeared. Then they were launching themselves at her.

And her last thought before all went black— There are tigers?

Nikolai Vorislav rolling onto his back, let the morning sun warm his belly as he quietly waited in a soft patch of tall grass. Waited until his breakfast walked up to one of the many lakes he had on his property. And, as always, breakfast did come walking up. Slowly, Nik rolled back over onto his belly, watching to see if it saw him. It hadn’t. Instead it drank from the lake, completely oblivious to his presence.

He waited a moment more. Then he silently charged. The deer made a run for it, but Nik had his paws on its hindquarters and under him before it got more than ten feet away. Nik gripped its neck and bit down until it stopped thrashing. With a happy sigh, he settled down to a nice hot meal.

When done, Nik went for a swim in his lake, letting the water go through his coat, washing all the blood away. He looked up at the sun. It was getting late. He needed to get on a conference call although he’d rather stay outside for the rest of the day playing. But his father would have his head.

As it was, Nik barely tolerated the old bastard these days. He loved his father, but he didn’t understand him. And he really didn’t want to. Still, he needed to leave his father be. The old man had begun to slowly transfer the business over to him and Nik’s momma would have his hide if he started any crap now. So, resigning himself to a Sunday trapped on a trans-Atlantic call, he headed back to his house.

He padded quietly through his backyard, glancing at his pool. He fought his desire to dive in headfirst and stay there for the next four hours. Instead, he trotted over to the patio, stopping before he moved into his house. He sniffed the air and groaned. His brothers were around somewhere. Why? He’d left them in Texas with explicit instructions not to come back until they had a signed property deal from that old wolf Marrec so they could build some stupid amusement park his father had his heart set on. Nik should have known better. Trying to get a wolf to sell its territory was not easy, if not damn-near impossible. But this deal was Alek’s baby. He’d brought the property to their daddy’s attention. How he knew about wolf property, Nik could only guess.