“Irene’s brilliance focuses on other things.”

“Other things besides logic?”

“Pretty much.” She faced him. “I have to go home so I can get dressed, go back to the Sports Center, and quit my job.”

“What about my TV needs?”

Her eyes crossed before she stepped around him and walked out of the bedroom.

“I’ll go back with you,” he suggested/insisted.

“No. I can make it back on my own.”

She grabbed the duffel bag she’d left lying in the hallway and was at the front door when Ricky came up behind her.

“See ya,” she said as she opened the door.

“When?”

She stopped, faced him. “What?”

“When will you see me? Tonight? Tomorrow? This weekend?”

“I’m not dating you.”

“Who said anything about dating? We’re shifters. Shifters don’t date. That’s for full-humans.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

“Sex. Preferably lots of it.”

“Just sex? That’s all you want?” she pushed.

“What? Do you like to talk or something?”

“No.”

Ricky grinned. “So you just wanna hit it?”

“No! I mean—oh! Why am I having this conversation with you?”

“Because you’re intrigued and kind of turned on. It’s okay. I know you’re used to full-humans and their complicated ways, but it’s time for you to learn the ways of your people.”

“Or I could never see you again.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because . . . it’s just . . . why am I still having this conversation with you?” she finished on a yell.

“Well—”

“Shut up!” she spun away from him and stormed out of the apartment.

“You’re dang cute when you’re angry,” he called after her. “Well, damn, darlin’! That gesture was just unnecessary!”

Ricky stepped back into the apartment and went looking for the boots he’d had on last night. While he searched, he laughed the entire time because, yeah . . . this was gonna be fun.

Kyle was waiting for his sister to come home. He knew she’d be back to check on them, and when she did, he, Oriana, and Troy had it all worked out. They were going to give her the silent treatment. Show her that they didn’t need her. Not like she seemed to think they did. And then, once she understood the depth of her idiocy, they’d again allow her to manage their lives. Because working with his aunt Irene, whom they all adored, was like hell on earth.

That woman was impossible! Blunt to the point of just rude, she would cut Kyle off midsentence in order to inform him that he was wrong and remind him that he wasonly eleven. He knew he was eleven. He was quite aware of being eleven. He didn’t need a reminder of that. Nor did he need his aunt to cut him off while he was speaking. That was intolerable!

Did Michelangelo have to go through this sort of thing? Did Rodin? Kyle doubted it. Brilliance shouldn’t be forced to deal with such ridiculous things as schedules and worrying about making people cry.

And of course his dear, sweet, but clueless aunt Irene didn’t understand that. She was a scientist. Yes, a brilliant scientist, but just a scientist. She was not an artist, so she didn’t understand anything. She definitely didn’t understand things the way Toni did, and Toni was much less terrifying than Aunt Irene, which was very important.

So when Toni got home, Kyle would let her know in no uncertain terms that he and the others would no longer tolerate any more of this ridiculous behavior from her. She had work to do, and that work was here, with her family. Not with strangers who did no more than follow a tiny puck around while on skates. Full-blooded bears did that sort of thing in Russia for full-humans’ entertainment, so Kyle was not impressed.

Freddy ran into the kitchen, a thick and, Kyle would wager, boring book in his hands. He held it up for their father to see.

“Look what came for me, Daddy!”

“What’s that?”

“Miki sent me a book about my favorite physicist, Henry Cavendish!”

I was right. Boring.

“I’m going to go bury it in the backyard!” Freddy cheered before charging toward the backdoor.

“You haven’t read it yet,” their father reminded him.

Freddy stopped, stared at the book in his hands.

Kyle’s brother was such a canine. If anything was important to him, he buried it in the backyard, which was only really annoying when he panicked, stole something that belonged to someone else, buried it in the backyard, and then refused to tell anyone where. And for such a chatty kid, Freddy really could keep his mouth shut when he felt like it.

“Why don’t you have breakfast first,” their father suggested, “read the book, then decide if you want to bury it or not.”

“It’s from Miki,” Freddy repeated as if that explained his intense desire to bury the stupid thing.

“Miki who?” Troy asked.

“Kendrick,” Oriana replied. “Aunt Irene’s mouthy friend.”

“She’s nice,” Freddy said.

“You think everyone’s nice.”

Their father pulled a chair out at the table. “Freddy, sit. Eat. You always forget to eat.”

“Oriana never forgets to eat,” Kyle joked. Although he wasn’t sure it was worth the trouble when Oriana’s bony elbow rammed into his ribs.