Eating what smelled like seal jerky, Lou “Crush” Crushek stared at them, unfazed by their panicked reaction. Unlike grizzlies, polars didn’t fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. Of course, polars were also more likely to eat a person just because that beached walrus they could scent was miles away somewhere on an ice floe and, you know . . . that human was standing right there.

Crushek nodded at Reece. Ricky knew he was nodding at Reece because Reece was the only one of them who played hockey professionally. Reece wasn’t the best the Carnivores had, but he was the one who always seemed more than willing to sacrifice himself to get between the other team and their potential goal. The wolf had had more surgery than seemed right over the last few years to repair all sorts of damage, but he truly loved hockey and his personality made him a standout with the fans.

“How ya doin’, Crush?”

The bear shrugged. Crushek wasn’t much for, you know, words. But that was okay. His mate, Coach Cella Malone, more than made up for it because that chatty kitty didn’t know when to shut the heck up.

“Good,” Reece said, reading that shrug as a positive response.

The bear looked over at MacDermot, who was now glaring at Ricky and his brothers. “You ready, MacDermot?”

They didn’t seem a likely pair, MacDermot and Crushek, but the fellow detectives worked really well together and had closed a lot of cases for the NYPD since they’d been teamed up. A few cases that Ricky and his brothers had been involved in because of their security company.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” She kissed her mate on the cheek and headed out, beautiful gray-green eyes glaring at the Reeds as she passed. The three brothers said nothing to her because they knew better. Even Reece. A full-human she might be, but Dez MacDermot-Llewellyn was always armed and always ready to shoot. In fact, she was one of the only full-humans he’d ever known who happily called Sissy Mae and Dee-Ann Smith “friends” and actually meant it.

She was almost past when she suddenly jerked toward them. All three jumped back, Reece immediately covering his face with his forearms since he felt that was the best part of him.

Sneering, she walked out the door and, chuckling, Crushek followed.

“Love you, babe,” Llewellyn called after her. “See you at home.”

“Love you, too,” she called back.

Llewellyn walked around his desk, and when he pulled his chair out, he noticed that the three wolves were watching him. “What?” He glared at them when all three tipped their heads to the side. “Look, I’m a lion male, but I can say ‘I love you’ . . . and mean it. Really.”

Toni sat down at the desk she was about to give up and opened up the e-mail program. She started typing, “Dear Ric,” but was worried that using his nickname was too casual. Soshe tried “Dear Ulrich” but thought that sounded too formal.

“This isn’t working,” Toni muttered, her entire body drooping in her very expensive ergonomically correct desk chair. “What do I say? ‘Thanks for the opportunity but I’d rather set myself on fire than fail on such a grand scale’?” No. That sounded tragically pathetic. Even for her. And she knew if she sounded pathetic that would only make Ric push for her to “keep trying!” He was a keep trying guy. A guy who thought everyone could do anything they wanted if they put their mind to it.

So she knew she had to find a way to quit and get him to not bug her about it. That would not be easy. Though he was a wonderfully nice wolf, Ulrich Van Holtz could be just as pushy as the rest of the Van Holtzes.

While she was debating the best way to handle her resignation, Kerri appeared in the doorway, a big grin on her face.

“I’m not staying,” Toni said immediately, and she felt slightly devastated when that big grin faded.

“But why not?”

“Kerri—”

“I know a lot of pressure comes with this job, but—”

“It’s not the pressure. Pressure I can handle. I’m just not right for this . . .” Toni’s words faded off when she saw the pretty black woman standing behind Kerri but staring down the long hallway.

“Can I help you?” Toni asked.

Her eyes still focused down that hallway, the female replied, “Uh . . . yeah. I was coming in here to say thanks but . . . uh . . .”

Toni sniffed the air and almost audibly sighed. The female was a wolfdog. One of the more annoying hybrids in Toni’s estimation. They were just . . . all over the place. No focus. No clarity. No sanity.

“Sweetie . . . ?” Toni pushed, frustrated because she wanted to talk to Kerri.

“Yeah. Sorry.” The She-dog focused on them. “Do you guys know who that lion male is who’s wearing the Los Angeles Raiders T-shirt?”

“Oh,” Kerri replied, “that’s the new player Coach just brought in. He’s from Los Angeles.” She lowered her voice. “He’s very tan.”

“Did Malone spend a lot of money bringing him here?”

That seemed like an odd question, so Toni asked, “Why does it matter?”

“Uh . . . because he just invited himself to work out with Bo.”

“Novikov?”

Kerri looked at her, eyes widening in panic.

Toni shot out of her chair, charged around her desk, and tore off down the hall. By the time she reached the two males, Bo Novikov had the new guy in a choke hold that would kill most canines and smaller cats. Only lion males and hyenas could continue to put up a fight after two seconds of that.