And that was pretty much the last thing she remembered.

Crush impatiently waited outside the med offices, pacing. No one got too close to him. No one ever got too close to an anxious bear.

He was hoping to get in to see Cella, to find out what was going on. But then the EMS guys were taking her out, heading toward an ambulance parked outside the Sports Center. Dr. Davis followed behind them, rushing to keep up. Crush followed, calling out her name.

She looked over her shoulder. At first, he wasn’t sure she even recognized him. Once at the elevator, she faced him, walking in backward, unwilling to waste precious seconds getting Cella to the hospital.

“We’re taking her to McMillian Presbyterian Hospital. Get her father. He needs to be there when she wakes up. Understand?”

Crush nodded and watched the elevator doors close.

But instead of running to get her father, Crush stood there. He couldn’t move. And he had no idea how long he stood there, staring at that closed door until he heard his name called.

Finally snapping out of whatever catatonic state he’d dropped into, Crush slowly turned. It was Van Holtz.

“Where is she?”

“Hospital.”

“How bad is it?” When Crush could only shrug, Van Holtz turned to one of the med techs hanging around outside the room. “How bad?”

The jackal, using a towel to wipe blood off her hands, stated, “The knee’s destroyed. They’re going to have to replace it. They’re waiting for her at McMillian.”

Now Van Holtz looked like Crush was guessing he did. Stunned and confused. But he couldn’t help Van Holtz deal with it. Not now.

“I have to get her father,” he said, walking past the wolf. “He needs to be there when she wakes up.”

The second string was on the ice and Lock sat on the bench next to Novikov, who sat next to Reed, who sat next to Bert. They sat and said nothing, waiting for Ric to get back.

Something didn’t feel right, but Lock couldn’t put his finger on it. Yet he knew something was off. It was a sixth sense he’d picked up while in the Marines. To know when something that looks completely benign and merely an accident was anything but. And after a quick glance at the teammates sitting with him, he kind of knew he wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

It just seemed like those hyenas had targeted Marcella. And maybe they had. She’d been on several other teams before she’d settled down with the Carnivores, recruited by Ric. She might have pissed off the Minnesota team or those hyenas specifically at any time over the last few years. Still ... they hadn’t just gone after her. Hell. Lots of players had gone after her. She was a well-hated woman in hockey because she was just so damn good at what she did. But this seemed so coordinated. So planned out. And they hadn’t gone for her jugular. They’d gone for her legs.For her weak knee...

Ric dropped down next to Lock and Novikov leaned around to look at him.

“Well?” Novikov demanded.

“They’re taking her to McMillian Presbyterian.” An excellent hospital for shifters. Lock’s sister was head of neurosurgery there. “Total knee replacement.”

Novikov blinked, shocked and clearly upset. “Are they sure?”

Ric nodded. “They’re sure.”

There was silence after that. The entire first string just sat there, already missing Cella’s “let’s kill them all!” attitude.

Suddenly, Ric stood and put on his helmet. “First string in,” he ordered. Normally something he left up to the coach, but he was the owner. He could do anything he wanted.

As one they all stood and skated onto the ice, the second string passing them on their way to the bench. With the puck in play, the opposition maneuvered it down the ice toward the Carnivore goal. Ric crouched, waiting, and Lock raced down as one of the opposition neared the goal, trying to get the puck in the net. Ric stopped the puck and Lock skated between his friend and one of the hyenas. Lock had just passed by when he saw Ric’s stick flash out, slamming into the hyena’s side.

Startled—Ric never fought anybody unless they started it—Lock spun back around just as Ric dropped gloves and he and the hyena rammed into each other. Another hyena was going toward Ric so Lock ran into him, grabbing him around the neck and yanking him by his head while Novikov picked up the third hyena and began bouncing him around the rink like he was a basketball player and the hyena was the ball.

Then both teams were on the ice and that was pretty much the end of the game....

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The elevator doors opened and Dez stepped out, her husband Mace behind her. She stopped immediately, her gaze moving around the packed hospital hallway. She knew most of the people there, but she could easily spot Cella’s family. They mostly looked like Dez’s friend. Black hair with orange and white streaks, gold or green eyes; the women curvy, the men built like linebackers.

But what worried Dez immediately was the weight of tragedy she felt throughout the entire hallway. She had no clue what had happened, getting one of those short-worded Dee-Ann Smith messages on her voice mail. God, was she too late?

No, no. She didn’t want to think like that.

After another quick look around, Dez saw Dee-Ann and she walked over to her. She stood next to a completely battered Ric Van Holtz, Lock MacRyrie, and Bo Novikov. They looked like they’d been through hell. Had they tried to stop what had happened to Cella? And if the guys looked like this ... what did Cella look like?

���Dee—” Dez began, but then Blayne was wrapped around Dez ... sobbing. Hysterically.