“It’s a Pack house. Where a large number of wolves can relax and enjoy a weekend away from the bustling city. Or, as in our case, a large number of random shifters who should probably never be in the same place at the same time, getting on each other’s nerves for an entire weekend until someone ends up mauled and whining.”

To prove that point, MacRyrie lumbered up to them, the grizzly grinning. “This place is great, Ric.”

“Thanks.”

“I brought you a house-warming gift.”

Ric glanced down. “Cats?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands, my friend.”

MacRyrie looked down at his big hands. “Oh, gosh! I did it again. Sorry, guys.” He dropped Brendon and Mitchell Shaw, the two lions slamming hard to the ground. “Let me show you what I made you.”

The grizzly went back to his truck and returned with a coffee table made entirely of wood, created by MacRyrie himself. Dee knew the man had some skills but damn . . . he was really good.

He plopped the table down, forcing the lions on the ground to flatten themselves to the grass so that they weren’t hit on the head.

“What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous, Lock. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” But the bear’s wide smile told Dee he’d put a lot of work into it.

“I think it will look perfect in the main living room,” Ric added.

“There’s a main living room?” Dee asked.

“Don’t judge.”

“I’ll take it in.” The grizzly picked it up and headed into the house, carrying the table under one arm.

Dee glanced at Ric. “That thing weighs about a hundred pounds, doesn’t it?”

“Probably more. I have him place the furniture he gives me and then I never touch it again. I don’t want to strain my back.”

More cars, SUVs, and trucks pulled up into the long winding road that led up to the Long Island property.

“Guess I better get inside.” He kissed Dee’s cheek. It was a sweet kiss, but still managed to make her heart beat just a little faster. “I hope you’ll relax this weekend.”

“Do I have to wear shoes?” she asked.

Ric shook his head. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Then relaxing should be easy enough.”

“Good.” Ric walked inside his home, and Dee watched him, thinking about following him. Maybe dragging him into the nearest bedroom for a few minutes before everybody showed up.

But Ric had barely stepped inside the big house before Sissy Mae and Ronnie Lee were standing beside her.

“You and Van Holtz?” Sissy asked.

“Yeah.” Dee-Ann faced her younger cousin and Alpha Female. “And?”

“Nothing. Ulrich Van Holtz just seems . . .”

“Out of my league?”

“I was gonna say he just seems smallerthan what you usually go for. And much more pleasant.”

“At least he’s not dragging himself off the ground after getting slapped around by a grizzly.” Brushing dirt off his T-shirt and shorts as he got to his feet, Mitch Shaw snapped, “He didn’t slap us around. That bear’s dangerous and unstable. And shouldn’t be around my delicate baby sister!” he yelled as Gwen walked past with her duffle bag.

“Let it go already,” she shot back.

Dee reached around and grabbed Ronnie Lee’s hand—the hand holding the phone—and squeezed.

“Ow!” Ronnie Lee yelped. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow-ow-ow! ”

“Who you callin’, Ronnie Lee?”

“No one!”

Dee squeezed tighter. “Who you callin’, Ronnie Lee?”

“Just my momma. To say hi!”

“Let’s not do that, okay?” Dee waited until she heard metal bend and some bones crack before she released Ronnie’s hand. “That all right with you, Sissy Mae?”

“A day not talking to my mother is like a day of sunshine and sweet tea.”

“Good.” Dee faced Ronnie. “That all right with you, Ronnie Lee?” The wolf glared up at her from the spot on the ground where Ronnie had dropped to her knees.

“Yes,” the She-wolf hissed. “But you could have just told me not to call.”

“I could have also twisted your arms outta their sockets. Figured this was friendlier. Now y’all have yourselves a great time.” Dee went into Ric’s SUV and grabbed one of the cases of overpriced wine he’d brought with him and headed into the house.

Ric rubbed his forehead with both hands. When Novikov had said he was going to be arriving at the house a few hours before anyone else, Ric simply assumed the man was going to get in some pool time before he had to fight the swamp-cat lions for space. But he was realizing that Bold Novikov was much more diabolical than that.

The seven-one hybrid stood proudly in front of the chart he’d written out on several giant Post-Its that he’d stuck to the wall. The wall Ric had designated for the Jackson Pollack he’d purchased a few years back. He briefly wondered whether Novikov would have still put his precious chart up there if the Pollack had already been in place.

“Now,” the hybrid went on, “as you see, I’ve assigned rooms to everyone on your attendance list, keeping the Smith wolves in close proximity to the dogs, with Bobby Ray Smith and Jessica Ward-Smith in the room set up between them. Plus, this one also had an attached room they could put their baby in.” He’d written out each person’s name on smaller pieces of sticky paper and carefully placed them in the rooms he’d meticulously drawn out. To be honest, Ric hadn’t seen house specifications so expertly drawn outside a set of government-official blueprints.