“Why are you still here, canine?”

“Just a tad hungry was all.”

Confused, Peg looked around, expecting to see used pots and pans in the sink. Maybe some dog shit in her refrigerator. But instead, all she spotted was the untouched food and water bowls on the floor. And right beside it, some blood.

Peg followed after the She-wolf, but the female stopped suddenly in the laundry room and faced her. Peg immediately flicked on the overhead light to keep the canine in her sights. There weren’t a lot of people in the world who made Peg nervous, but ...

Gazing at her with those yellow dog eyes, the canine scratched her cheek. At first, all Peg could see was the blood around the canine’s mouth, but then she heard that soft tinkle noise and her eyes focused on what the bitch had wrapped around her thick, man-like wrist. It was a bright red collar, a small bell attached to it. That’s what was tinkling as she scratched herself.

Livid, Peg roared, “You disgusting piece of—”

“Now, now,” the canine easily cut in, never once losing her cool. She showed no fear, no anger, no hatred. Nothing. Nothing at all. “Let’s not be rude.”

“You ate my cat.” The black-and-white tabby Peg had rescued two years ago to impress a cat-loving investor. A cat she’d become rather attached to!

“You know how it is.” The canine’s head tilted to the side, her forefinger wiping the blood off the corner of her mouth before sucking the digit clean. “You fucked with my pussy ... and I fucked with yours.”

Done, she tipped her baseball cap at Peg. “Y’all have a nice night now.”

Peg’s hands tightened into fists and she asked, “Exactly who the fuck are you anyway?”

“Name’s Dee-Ann.” She opened the back door and stepped out into the darkness, but when she looked back at Peg, yellow dog eyes glinted at her.

“You’re Eggie Ray Smith’s kid,” Peg accused.

“That’s right. I’ll tell Daddy y’all said hi.”

With that, the female disappeared into the darkness and Peg quickly closed the door, locking it. Then, with shaking hands, she speed-dialed her assistant. “Get a tactical unit over here now.” She sniffed, the scent of disgusting canine female and, even worse, feline piss and shit, making her feel like retching. “And a goddamn maid service.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

A gentle pat on the shoulder woke Crush up. The smell of hot coffee actually got him to lift his head from the mattress. He wasn’t, however, still in bed with Cella. He knew her family would be back and he just wouldn’t feel right with them finding him in bed, cuddling up to Cella. So just before dawn, he’d reluctantly pulled away from her—God, she was so warm and smelled so nice—and sat down in the chair beside thebed. He’d put his crossed arms on the mattress and his head on his crossed arms. That was it until that gentle pat and the smell of coffee.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, Crush sat up and smiled at the sweet face staring down at him.

“Morning, Mrs. Malone.”

“Morning, sweetheart.” Cella’s mother held out the cup of coffee for him and he gratefully took it. One sip and he was already on his way to feeling better.

“How is she doing?” Mrs. Malone asked.

“Good. She slept well. But that probably had to do with the drugs they gave her.”

“Pain meds, antibiotics, and something a little extra to ensure she sleeps, according to Jai,” Mrs. Malone rattled off. “I guess they can’t really afford for her to have a full-blown fever.” No, they really couldn’t. Although the fever helped badly wounded shifters to heal quickly, it also involved shifting back and forth from one form to the other, over and over, as well as a tendency to flail and jerk in one’s sleep. Not the best thing for Cella’s healing leg. So the doctors had doped her up more than they would most and hoped she’d quietly sleep through the night. Thankfully, she had.

Mrs. Malone walked around the bed and gazed down at her daughter.

“She’s doing okay,” Crush promised her. “She’s amazingly strong.”

“Just like her father.”

Crush couldn’t help but smile a little. “Just like her mother, I think.”

The tigress blinked up at him in surprise, her cheeks getting a little red. “Well ... thank you.” Mrs. Malone cleared her throat. “Detective Crushek—”

“Call me Crush.”

“Crush. Why don’t you get something to eat?”

Crush looked down at Cella, still sleeping soundly.

“Now don’t worry about Cella. I’m here and trust me when I say the rest of the family will be showing up very soon. Plus, I’ll want you around to help with any visitors.”

“Visitors?”

“One time her father was injured during a game. The hospital he was in had to call in extra security.”

“Fan invasion?”

“Exactly.”

“You have an excellent point.”

“I know I do. It’s my job to plan for the unforeseen.” She waved him away. “Now go. Get something to eat.”

Crush nodded, realizing he was starving. He’d been planning to get dinner after the game with Cella, so he’d only had one or two sandwiches, a steak, and a large pizza during the game.

Yep. Starving.

Standing up, Crush rolled his shoulders and nodded at Cella’s mother. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, Mrs. Malone.”