After a couple of hours, while Blayne raced around the basement and Gwen threw things at her head, trying to catch her off guard, one of the wild dogs wandered by. He watched them for a few minutes before wandering away again. About twenty minutes later, they had all the wild dogs down in the basement with them.

They brought food, and since Gwen and Blayne had never gotten around to getting lunch, they ended up eating with the Pack. Gwen usually hated being around crowds of canines, but maybe it was the wolves she didn’t favor as much because the wild dogs weren’t that bad. They were extremely friendly as only dogs could be, and they were also funny and, unlike the wolves and cats, very welcoming of mixed breeds.

Around four o’clock, two pups showed up. Both teenagers. One was Kristan, the daughter of Maylin, and the other Johnny, wolf and adopted son of Jess. Much bigger than any of the dogs who currently ruled Johnny’s life, Gwen wondered if the pup appreciated that Jess had married another wolf. Maybe he felt a little less alone?

Gwen could relate after having spent her whole life surrounded by lions who were much taller and never understood Gwen’s desire to not constantly hang out with her cousins.

Not surprisingly, Kristan eventually wandered over to Gwen and started chatting with her. Like fellow wolfdog Blayne, Kristan was a happy girl with a big smile, but Gwen also felt a kinship to the sixteen-year-old canine because they were both half Asian. Although Gwen knew more about her Irish side and her ancient druid relatives who may have liberated the people of their small village from the Romans or…uh…enslaved them. It wasn’t really clear, and it depended on who you talked to.

None of that mattered to Gwen and Kristan because, just as it was between Gwen and Blayne, they were outsiders among outsiders, making them instant allies. So before Gwen knew it, she’d grabbed what Blayne called her “magic case,” which held all of Gwen’s favorite hair and beauty products, wet the teen’s multicolored wild dog hair and, with the reluctant blessing of her mother, Gwen began to remove a lot of the length to give Kristan’s hair more body and shape and make her look more like she was sixteen rather than twelve.

While Gwen worked with a blow-dryer and curling iron, Kristan sitting at her feet, one of the wild dogs pulled out his MP3 player and attached it to speakers. Great eighties music pumped while Blayne had fun on her skates with a few of the other wild dogs on their skateboards.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Kristan asked, not even bothering with the mirror Gwen had given her to watch the progress of her hair. Her immediate trust in Gwen was humbling, if not daunting.

“She’s very good. She’ll get even better.”

“Are you on the team, too?”

“Me? Nah.”

“How come? I bet you two would make an awesome team. And you guys could haveyour own

nicknames like the Terrible Twosome or the Battling Bitches.”

Laughing, Gwen finished with the curling iron, unplugging it before setting it aside to cool. “Oh, yeah.

That sounds like us.”

“I’m serious!” Of course, she was serious. Wolfdogs were always serious, even when they had no idea what they were talking about.

Gwen worked her hands through Kristan’s hair, playing with the curls until they fell the way she wanted them to. She stood and walked around, crouching in front of her. She fussed with the multicolored locks for a bit longer, wondering how long before Kristan would start dyeing her hair so she didn’t stick out as much.

Leaning back and looking Kristan over, Gwen had to admit she’d done a pretty good job.

Gwen picked up the mirror and held it up for her. “What do you think?”

Kristan glanced at herself, began to smile pleasantly and look away, but her gaze shot back and she snatched the mirror from Gwen. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God! I look amazing!” She jumped to her feet, forcing Gwen to scramble out of her way.

“Mom! Oh, my God, look!”

May’s hands covered her mouth as she stared at her oldest daughter. “You look—”

“Older,” Blayne muttered in Gwen’s ear after she’d rolled up behind her.

“It had to happen sometime,” Gwen muttered back.

“Yeah, but that young pup over there is a lot more fascinated with her than he was when he walked in.”

The friends peered over at Johnny, and Gwen had to bite back her smile. Blayne was right. He was really interested. Kristan threw her arms around Gwen’s neck. “Thank you so much! I love it! You’re a miracle worker!”

“I always thought so,” a voice said from the doorway and both Gwen and Blayne went tense.

Looking over her shoulder, Gwen stared at her mother and—betraying bastard, son of a bitch, hope he burns in hell—Mitch.

With a walk that made men stop whatever they were doing to watch, Roxy O’Neill sauntered over, her purse swinging from her hand, her hips moving from side to side. To anyone who didn’t know her, she looked too busy being sexy to be worried about anything else.

But Gwen knew her.

Drawing her hands through Kristan’s hair, Roxy nodded in approval. “Nice. Very nice. It fits her face and lets her look her age rather than too young or too old. You’ve always had an eye, baby-girl.”

Looking around, Roxy smiled. “I see the plumbing biz is keeping you busy.”

Gwen’s jaw clenched at the direct hit, and Blayne immediately put her arm around Gwen’s shoulders.

“Early afternoon,” the wolfdog explained. “It’s been a long week.”