“You know how emotionally vested the wolves get about dominance. Why don’t you just go beat up some puppies, too?”

Vic heard what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

“Okay! I get it,” she said. “I’ll send them an ‘I’m sorry’ basket of Milk-Bones to make it up to them.”

“You are so mean.”

“I know. It’s a genetic flaw.”

“Speaking of genetic flaws, where are the cousins you played paintball with?”

“They went out to eat. But I wanted to come home and see you.”

Vic placed his hand under Livy’s, wincing at the size difference. His hands looked like giant dinner plates next to hers. But when she curled her fingers in between his, clasping their hands together, Vic realized that the size difference didn’t matter.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

“And go where?”

“My house. Just for the night.”

Her nose wrinkled a bit when she grimaced. “We shouldn’t leave Coop, Cherise, and Kyle alone in the house.”

“Because of what Coop and Cherise might do to the kid when they can’t take it anymore?”

“Kyle will have to learn to deal with his siblings on his own. I’m just concerned that with my family out doing what they do—”

“Shen’s here. He’ll watch out for them.”

“Why is Shen here? Doesn’t he have a home?”

“Somewhere, but hell if I know where it is. But it’s not in Manhattan. Or any of the five buroughs. So until we’re done with this, he’s not going anywhere.”

“You think he’ll mind?”

“Coop just ordered Mexican for dinner. Shen will not mind staying.”

“Big Mexican food fan, is he?”

“He’s a big fan of food in general.” Tightening his fingers a bit so Livy couldn’t pull away, Vic stood, tugging until she got up, as well. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Just for tonight.”

“As long as Shen is watching out for them, that’s probably a good idea.”

Vic led Livy down the street to where he’d parked his SUV. While they walked, he pulled out his cell phone and sent Shen a quick text to let him know what was going on.

He reached his vehicle and opened the door for Livy. Because of its enormous size, she had to step up and then into the SUV. But she turned and faced him before sitting down in the seat, her hands resting on the frame.

She gazed at him for a long moment, then asked, “Do you have honey at your house?”

Vic swallowed. “We can stop at a place I know to pick some up. It’s open late. Bear owned.”

Livy reached out with one hand, stroked her fingers down his jaw. “Good plan.”

Vic waited until Livy was in her seat before he closed the door. He moved around theSUV, trying really hard not to run. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to run. And speed. All the way back to his house. That would be tacky, though. He didn’t want to be tacky.

Right? He didn’t want to be tacky?

Coop was having a pleasant evening. He was sitting on the couch, working on the symphony he’d started to write a few days ago on a whim. Cherise was on one end of the couch, the remote control in her hand, indulging her secret love of reality television. His music had him pretty well sucked in, but it was entertaining to occasionally look up and see people yell at each other for ratings. On the other end of the couch was Kyle. He was in a sketching mood tonight, and Coop was grateful. When Kyle sketched, he was so absorbed by his work that he was quiet for once. Wonderfully, beautifully, amazingly quiet.

It was nice. Three prodigies, sitting around, being casual . . . while creating work that would last hundreds of years. See? They could be normal like everyone else.

The giant panda, Shen, walked into the living room. He had his cell phone in one hand and one of his many bamboo stalks in the other.

Staring at his phone he said, “Got a text from Vic. He and Livy are heading to his house for the night. He wants me to keep an eye on you guys while they’re gone.”

“Great,” Coop said, suddenly not liking the flow of what he’d just written. “Thanks.” He reached for the eraser he kept next to him and removed the offending notes, started again.

“You know”—Cherise lowered the sound on the dramatic yelling—“I think Livy’s really into Vic.”

“Really?” Coop asked, still erasing. He hated seeing the remnants of his failures.

“I’m worried, though.”

“Why?”

“He’s awfully nice. Maybe too nice. You know, for Livy.”

“He’s not that nice,” Kyle tossed in. “He’s seen enough of life and death to be able to handle the darker side of Livy’s personality and needs. And Livy doesn’t need someone who is like her. She doesn’t need a honey badger as a mate. She knows, at least subconsciously, that connecting with someone like her would lead to what her parents once had. She fears that. She is, much to her surprise, a one-man woman. She will never be comfortable with the yelling, cheating, and lying that her parents thought of as sport so things never got too boring. For an artist she’s surprisingly conventional about relationships.”

After staring at each other, Coop and Cherise gazed at their younger brother with wide eyes and opened mouths.

He glanced away from what Coop realized was a sketch of the Arc de Triomphe, which they’d seen on their three-day stopover in Paris before heading back to New York. And it was meticulous and wonderful and . . . perfection. Still . . . Coop wondered if his brother might be missing another possible career.