Slowly, Jess explained, “Think of Africa as the cradle of all civilization. So the wild dogs encompass a full range of, uh, races.”

“Huh. Is it true you don’t have dewclaws? You know, when you shift?”

“Right. We don’t.”

“Weird. Do you have thumbs?”

Don’t freak out. No matter how weird this gets, don’t freak out.

“Yes, we have thumbs.”

“Huh.” Long fingers scratched the brutal scar that marred one side of her face. She didn’t seem bothered by it, but Jess had to force herself not to stare. Her natural curiosity made her want to ask all sorts of questions about how she got it, but logic told Jess to keep her damn mouth shut. “You know, I don’t like... well... anybody. Except a select few. But I think we’ll get along ’cause I am a dog person.”

Apparently that was all May could stand. She snorted first, her head immediately dropping. But as soon as Jess and Sabina heard that snort, they couldn’t control themselves. The fear taking an immediate backseat to the hysterical laughter.

Jess had been hearing rumors about the Alpha Female of the Magnus Pack for a couple of years now. She’d taken over after completely wiping out an entire Pride of lions. She’d earned a lot of respect from the canines for doing it, but it soon became apparent she might be a couple dog biscuits short of a full box of Milkbones.

She thought the woman would snap, show that ugly insanity Jess kept hearing about. Instead, Sara Morrighan merely tossed her hair back over her shoulder and drank her beer.

“We’re sorry,” Jess said when she’d finally gotten some control back. “That was rude.”

Sara frowned in confusion. “It was?”

Best not to push it. “So I’ll have our lawyers get in touch about finalizing the contract and agreement.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sara finished off her beer. “One other thing.”

Damn. She’d thought they were out.

“The Wilson Pack. You know ’em?”

The three of them tensed. How much do they let Sara Morrighan know?

“Yes,” May answered. “Their Alpha is my first daughter’s father.”

“Huh.” She jumped off the desk. “Watch your back. Rumors are flying among the wolves.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“Vague shit. But I’ve heard your Pack’s name and theirs mentioned in the same sentence, and not in a fun-loving way. Just watch your back. You don’t want to get caught between the Smiths and their kin. I heard they’re crazy.”

Ooh. Lobbing boulders from that glass house, eh? “Thanks for letting us know.”

“No problem.” She pulled on a leather biker jacket. “Okay. Gotta go. We’re headingto Alaska tonight.”

“That’s nice,” Jess said, standing up. “It’s really beautiful there.”

“That’s what I heard. We’re going bear hunting. Unfortunately, I have to do it as wolf cause it’s out of season for me to use my new Remington rifle. Which really blows.”

Jess couldn’t look at May and Sabina. She’d lose it again. Instead, she said, “I feel your loss.”

“Maybe—and this is just a suggestion, Sissy Mae—but maybe we shouldn’t be egging your cousin on to beat up a supermodel.”

Sissy snorted, enjoying the show way too much to call it off because Ronnie was having one of her attacks of conscience. “Oh, come on. As drunk as she is? She won’t do that much damage.”

Marty, one of the few older wolves who joined Smitty and Sissy in New York, sipped her German beer, and said, “And those supermodels have all that insurance to cover those pretty little faces of theirs.”

“Oh, well, then. I guess that makes it all right.”

Sissy put a hand to her chest. “Ronnie Lee? Is that sarcasm?”

“Sissy Mae,” Ronnie said, nudging her and pointing toward the club entrance, “do my eyes deceive me or is that the little gal who slapped you around like a dime-store hooker?”

It was her! That heifer! “She did not slap me around. She caught me off guard is all.”

Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, trying desperately to focus. “Who she with?”

“No one either of you wanna mess with.” Marty took another sip of her beer. “That She-wolf makes y’all seem downright normal and rational.”

“Who is she?”

“Sara Morrighan. Alpha Female of the Magnus Pack.”

“The crazy one?” Ronnie asked.

“No, y’all are crazy. You know, fun lovin’ and crazy.” Marty pointed at the frightening Amazon with her beer. “That bitch is insane.”

“Can someone explain to me,” Sissy demanded, “why Jessie Ann Ward is hanging out with the head She-bitch of the Magnus Pack? She is a dog, isn’t she?”

Ronnie grinned. “She was when she slapped the shit out of you.”

“She did not slap the shit out of me. But I’m this close with you.”

Marty nudged Sissy’s arm. “And here she comes.”

Sissy watched as Jessie Ann walked toward her, one of her She-dogs behind her.

“Hi, Sissy.”

“Jessie Ann.”

“Hi, Jessie Ann.” Ronnie pointed at herself. “Remember me? Ronnie Lee Reed.”

Jessie’s expression turned horrified. “Good God, you two still hang out together?”