Understand?”

“Well—”

“Good! Now, hold on!” Gripping the pre-packaged needle with surgical thread in one hand and Dee’s wounded arm in the other, Blayne cheerfully chirped, “This is gonna hurt!”

“I know this was an exhibition game,” Novikov told them while the team tried to shower, change, and get out for the evening. “And I know that we won . . . but there are some things that you guys suck at. I have a list.”

He pulled a list out of his hockey pants and Ric jumped in front of Lock before he could get his hands around Novikov’s throat. “Why don’t we discuss this at the next team practice?” Ric suggested to Novikov, barely able to hold the grizzly back.

Novikov held up his sheet of paper. “But I have a list.”

Lock snarled, trying to push Ric out of the way, but somehow Ric managed to hold him back. “I know. But I think that list will be much more effective when we’re all rested and relaxed before a practice.”

Novikov took a moment to think about it, and finally agreed. “All right. But next practice—you’ll all get to hear how you suck and how to fix that suckiness.” Ric waited until Novikov walked off to the shower before he told his best friend, “Let it go.”

“I should twist him into a pretzel.”

“What’s the point of that? Especially when there’s a risk he might twist you back. Let’s just take a shower and get out of here.”

Grabbing his towel, Lock stormed into the shower, Ric about to follow. But he took a moment to unlock Novikov’s locker, move his deodorant, hairbrush, and mouthwash around, and lock it all back up again.

He was heading to the shower when Blayne walked into the locker room.

“Blayne!” the entire team called out.

“Hey, guys!” She leaned in and whispered into Ric’s ear, “Dee got hurt.”

“What?”

“Don’t panic. She’ll be fine. I think the bleeding’s stopped.”

“Wait . . . what? ”

“You’re still panicking. Anyway, I can take her home, but then I realized that you should take her home. Or, if you’re worried about how she’ll heal . . . take her to your home.” Confused by all of this, Ric asked, “I don’t understand what you’re—”

“You. Take poor, wounded Dee home.” She winked. “It’s all part of my ‘Project: Wolf-Wolf’

plan.”

“I thought you were coming up with a less appalling name.” She shrugged. “Nothing worked. So Project: Wolf-Wolf it is! It’s cute!” When he continued to scowl, “Suck it up, Van Holtz, and take her home.”

“Shouldn’t I take her to thehospital—”

“So cute,” she snapped, cutting him off. “But sometimes so freakin’ dumb.”

“Yes, but if she’s badly wounded—”

“Ulrich. Did my Project: Code Name Bear-Cat not work for Lock and Gwenie?” Blayne’s ridiculous but fun-loving plan to get their two best friends together forever, although to anyone with eyes that pair had seemed destined to be together—with or without Blayne’s help.

“Yes, but—”

“Then my Project: Wolf-Wolf will work for you. But you must listen to me and trust me implicitly.”

“I understand that, but—”

“Just take her home already! Geez! ”

“Okay, okay!” He grabbed a towel, preparing to shower first. “I’ll be right out.”

“No problem. She’s hanging with the Babes.” Blayne’s derby team.

Now Ric did panic. “What? ”

“She’ll be fine. They love the Dee-ster.”

“Good God, woman. You don’t call her that, do you?”

“Well . . .”

Deciding the shower would have to wait, Ric threw his clothes on.

“What are you doing, baby?” Blayne asked Novikov once he’d returned from his shower.

“Someone keeps moving the stuff in my locker around. It’s driving me nuts!” Blayne rolled her eyes and circled her forefinger around her temple while mouthing, He’s so crazy, at Ric.

Shrugging, Ric grabbed his bag, and rushed out of the locker room.

When Ric got down the hall, he found Dee-Ann surrounded by the derby girls of Blayne’s team.

Like Blayne they were a loud, fun-loving, chatty bunch . . . and Dee looked seconds from killing them all.

Seeing the desperate rage in her eyes, Ric quickly walked over and caught her arm. “Hello, gorgeous ladies.”

“Ulrich!” they all cheered and a few hugged him.

“Did we tell you how much we love the jackets?” They all turned and showed off the light jackets he’d purchased for them that not only had the team name, their derby name and number, but also the Van Holtz name as he was one of their biggest sponsors. What could he say? The sponsorship drove his father crazy, but there was nothing the older wolf could do about it—not legally anyway.

“I’m so glad you guys like them.”

“You two should come out with us!” one of the girls begged. “We’ll get coffee or something.”

“We’d love to,” he began, but before he could finish, Dee dug particularly sharp claws into his hand, “but we can’t.”

“Oh.” The entire team eyed them then, together. “Ohhhhh.”