“I…I…” Miki sat down Indian style on the floor, the wind knocked out of her. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. We all go through it. Even me.”

“Really?” Miki had a hard time believing that. Conridge always seemed so put together.

“Of course. Do you think I wanted to be a wolf’s mate? The man tackled me from behind and marked my back. Of course I hit him with a two-by-four. He needed eight stitches in his head.”

Miki stared at her and Conridge shrugged. “He was still doing his take-what-he-wants thing. I’ve trained him not to do that anymore…and to roll over on command.” The two women laughed and Miki wondered if she were looking at herself in another fifteen years.

Conridge adjusted her stockings. She actually had the kind with the line down the back. Very 1940s and still very hot. “Look, Miki, what you are going through is a normal human emotion. And every once in a while, even people like you and me have those.”

Miki grinned. The woman was quite a piece of work.

“You don’t trust yourself yet,” Conridge continued. “You don’t trust your instincts. But you should. You’re not just some brain with legs. You’ve got some nice survival skills. Wolves find that sort of thing incredibly sexy.”

Miki smiled, pulling herself into a crouch so she could gather the papers together. “I guess I don’t want to blow this. My life, I mean.”

“You won’t. You’re smart. You’re mean. You’ll be fine.”

Miki laughed and stood, her thesis in a messy pile in her arms. “Well, thanks for the pep talk.”

“My pleasure. You know, my husband says I’m not good at pep talks. I think he’s wrong.”

Conridge pulled her office door open, and as Miki kicked her big, heavy backpack in front of her. It slid out the door and hit what she was almost certain was a man…or maybe a woman…it was something.

“Well, well. Is this the infamous Miki Kendrick?”

Miki glanced back at Conridge. Her professor’s distaste for this person clearly written on her face. “Miki Kendrick. This is Professor Mitchell Leucrotta.”

So it was a guy…sort of. The guy who’d been asking way too many questions about her. A weasley little fellow. Not quite Sara’s height. Thin but well muscled. What her mother would have called a “scrapper”. But there was something so predatory about him she began to wonder where the hell Conall was. Wasn’t he supposed to be protecting her or something? Asshole.

Miki nodded her head, but kept her distance. “Professor Leucrotta.”

“Well, I’m off.” He secured his computer bag on his shoulder. “I’m avoiding this littlecretin student. I hate when they’re needy.”

Now Miki really hated the guy. She was almost positive he was talking about Craig. One of her best buds. And a helluva lot less creepy than this guy.

Leucrotta gave a less than masculine finger wave before strolling down the hallway.

Miki looked at Conridge. “I hate him.”

Conridge chuckled. “You certainly do make snap decisions, don’t you?”

“Am I wrong?”

The older woman shook her head. “No. You’re not. He’s a scumbag.”

Conall appeared suddenly in the stairwell opposite where Leucrotta disappeared. He raised his nose in the air and sniffed. She realized he was casting for a scent. Conall followed his nose all the way over to Miki. He sniffed her. Then he sniffed her again. Miki got that little tingle in the back of her neck, and the next thing she knew, her pussy was wet.

Okay, when the hell did that start happening?

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hyena,” he muttered.

“Jackal,” Miki shot back.

He looked at her and frowned.

She shrugged. “I thought this was word association.”

Conridge snorted a laugh and Conall looked at her. He sniffed the air again. “You smell familiar.”

“I’m married to a Van Holtz.” Boy, the woman said that with a lot of pride.

“Oh. Yeah, I remember. I met you once. It’s nice to see you again. I’m Conall.” He reached down and picked Miki’s backpack up, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Why did you say hyena?”

“That’s the smell I couldn’t place. The scent that was on you after you were attacked. I’ve only dealt with them once or twice when I was a kid. A bunch of them beat the hell out of me in sixth grade.” He looked at Conridge. “I was a lot smaller then.”

“I see.”

Conall looked at Miki and the papers in her hand. “Need some help there, slim?”

“Just a little.”

Conall grabbed a handful. “Do either of you know Professor Leucrotta?”

Miki frowned. “You just missed him. Why are you asking?”

“That’s where the scent was strongest. At his office door.”

She sighed. “He was asking about me.”

“What?”

“He wanted to be Ms. Kendrick’s advisor for her dissertation,” Conridge filled in helpfully. “I politely told him to go to the devil. He seemed to take that rather personally. I don’t like him. But I didn’t bring him into the university. The dean did. But there have been lots of activity from the hyena clans lately.”

“We hadn’t noticed.”