“How much longer?”

Mace took a deep breath. “Another month. But she’s talked about not going back. A few months ago I thought that would make me happy; but not now. It horrifies me.”

Smitty winced. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

When his friend only looked away, Smitty bumped his shoulder with his own. “Fess up, hoss. What did you do?”

“You don’t understand,” Mace stated desperately. “I had to do something. It’s not just us I have to think about, but the baby.”

“What did you do?”

Unable to look Smitty in the eye, “I called her father.”

“And?”

“They’ll be calling her back to duty next week.” Shaking his head, “I had to do something, Smitty. It was out of hand.”

“I understand, hoss.”

“No, you don’t. She’s turned friend against friend, neighbor against neighbor, wives against husbands. Husbands against tennis coaches. She’s started fistfights in the middle of Saks Fifth Avenue. When she’s bored—I fear for the world.”

Smitty sipped his coffee and marveled at how one cop on maternity leave could destroy an entire Long Island town. Before Dez gave birth, Mace put her in a four-bedroom house in Northport with the hope that if she liked it, she’d rethink living in Brooklyn and, even more important, risking her life every day as a New York City Police detective. But soon after the baby was born, Dez started acting strangely. She never spoke about work, and Mace would come home to a full-cooked meal and a smiling wife more than happy to cater to his every whim. Then the long walks around the neighborhood with the baby and the dogs started. By the time Dez returned home, thirty-year-old marriages were over. Tennis coaches shot at or slapped around at the country club. Dez wouldn’t say anything when Mace asked her about it, but she’d offer him a slice of home-baked lemon meringue pie. That was around the time the man stopped sleeping.

“Does she know?”

“I don’t know. They were going to call her today, give her the weekend, and bring her in on Monday—but I’ve been afraid to call home.”

Smitty didn’t blame his friend. Sure, they may have been Navy SEALS together, caught in the middle of firefights, invading foreign countries, doing whatever their government asked them to do. But not once had they ever felt a fear equal to having a smiling Desiree MacDermot-Llewellyn ask you if you wanted salt for your potatoes.

“Well, we’ve got a few more hours here at least.”

Mace finished off his coffee. “Thank God. I can’t go home... She made me pot roast last night.” He crushed the empty coffee cup. “Inhuman. The woman is inhuman.”

Smitty finished off his own coffee andtossed the remainder in a trash can. He glanced at the TV screens. They’d set up cameras everywhere they could think of. This being their biggest job to date, Smitty wanted it going off without a hitch. So far, the team had stopped at least fourteen people trying to sneak into the party. When Mace told him a couple of months before they’d been offered a job as party security, Smitty’s head nearly exploded off his body. Security for a party or rave were for guys who had criminal records and couldn’t become cops. It sure wasn’t for the well-armed team they’d assembled since Smitty and Mace opened their business. Then he heard about not only the party but the party throwers. This wasn’t some bullshit event, but a computer geek’s wet dream. The major players in computers—millionaires to billionaires—from around the country came to the party and had for the last five years. Getting an invitation something you could almost put on your résumé. The amped-up security was to protect the serious heavy hitters that even Smitty, who could give a shit about PCs except when he needed to send an e-mail or download some porn, recognized.

Within a few days it went from “that bullshit job we have to do” straight into an all-hands-on-deck event. Thankfully, they now had the manpower—former military-trained shifters looking for a new life among the civilians. So far they’d hired only three full-humans, and they were Dez’s best friends.

“We better go back inside.” Mace pushed open the back doors. “You guys okay?” he asked the two males and one female monitoring the screens and keeping in close contact through headphones with the entire team.

“Yup,” the female answered as she quickly flipped through channels, those gold leopard eyes picking up everything.

“Good.” Mace slammed the doors after Smitty jumped out and the two headed back to the party.

They quickly checked on front-door security and walked inside the building, a four-story brownstone the company that hired them owned. They weren’t a big company but apparently quite powerful. Computer and database security specialists or whatever. To be quite honest, Smitty really didn’t care. Their money was green enough, and they had lots of it.

Smitty and Mace stepped into the main ballroom and glanced around.

These people definitely knew how to throw a party. This wasn’t some mere—and boring—black-tie event. This was a geek party to the nth degree. Hardcore tech music, old-school video games lining the walls, an insane amount of food and liquor—all free—and a hot waitstaff dressed up like those disturbing Japanese animation girls. He’d never seen so many girl school dresses paired with garter belts before in his life. Yeah, these people definitely knew their audience.