Ric shrugged helplessly. “I know Lock and his parents. And forget his uncles. They adore Blayne.”

Niles looked at her.

“The only bears I know besides Lock are in Tennessee.” She scratched her head. “There is one person who might be able to help.” She dug into her leather jacket and retrieved her cell phone. “My cousin Sissy. Her and Ronnie Lee have been fucking bears for years, so they should know somebody.”

Niles chuckled as Ric growled and went back to decimating that poor zebra.

Lou Crushek, also known as Crush to those brave enough to call him that to his face, pulled open his front door and gazed through one eye at the full-human female who simply reeked of cat.

“What?”

“And a good afternoon to you, too. Late night?”

“Pretty much.” They stared at each other as only fellow cops could. “I guess you want to come in?”

“Thanks for the invite!”

Knowing resistance was an absolute waste of time, Crush stepped back and Dez MacDermott, one of the few full-humans on the force he actually respected, walked into his apartment. He’d known Dez for a lot of years. They’d done some good work together, and more than once, he’d thought about trying to hook up with her, but something had always kept him from bothering. He used to think it was the “shittin’ where you eat” aspect of hooking up with a coworker, but he realized later that it was simply because she was, in her heart, a cat lover. Literally.

Closing the door, Crush turned to face her. “So what is it? And make it snappy, twinkles.”

“And to think you’re still alone.” She dropped onto his couch like she owned the place. She must have picked that up from her husband Mace Llewellyn. A more typical lion male a body wasn’t likely to ever meet.

“Anyway, do you know a”—she pulled out her battered notepad from her backpocket and glanced at the name—“Bo Noveeko? Since I’m positive you don’t know Blayne Thorpe.”

“No-vee-koff,” he pronounced for her. “And he’s the best damn hockey player you’ll never hear about, full-human. What’s it to you?”

“He’s missing along with Blayne Thorpe.”

“What do you mean he’s missing?” And who the hell was Blayne Thorpe?

Dez opened her mouth, he assumed to respond, but her cell phone went off. She tensed her hands tightening into fists. Softly, she said, “You know I’m a dog person, right?”

“I thought you were more a cat person?”

“Only when it comes to marrying them. Actually having them as friends, I’m all about the canines. But let me tell ya . . . like a goddamn dog with a bone this guy!” Dez’s famous short temper snapped, and she yanked her still-ringing phone from herjacket pocket. “What? I’m talkin’ to him . . . you know you’re startin’ to piss me . . .” She held the phone out to him. “Talk to him because I’m about to go Bronx on his ass.”

Chuckling, assuming it was that husband of hers, Crush took the phone. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Crushek?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Niles Van Holtz.”

Placing the phone against his thigh, Crush said to Dez, “You put me on the phone with a Van Holtz?”

“Well, you know what would happen if I kept talking to him.”

“Good point.” Crush put the phone back to his ear. “What do you want?”

“More bears . . . lovely.”

“Do you want something?”

“We need your assistance.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“The Group.”

“Oh. That we.”

“Yes. One of your Brooklyn associations handled something last night, and we need access to what was located. As soon as possible.”

“Hold.” He put the phone against his thigh again and focused on Dez. “What does he want?” Because he couldn’t handle the Van Holtz vague speak right now. It was too early for him.

“Last night some scumbags tried to kidnap Blayne Thorpe. She’s a wolfdog. Novikov was with her, and a beacon was set off that called in some kind of bear clan out of the Brooklyn woods to finish that tea party that these scumbags started.”

See? That was clear . . . at least to him. “You friends with Novikov?”

“I couldn’t even pronounce his name.”

“But the girl . . .”

“She’s a friend. She’s a friend of a lot of people. If it was just these rich canines, you know I wouldn’t be here. But for Blayne . . .”

“Got it.” He lifted the phone. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yes, but—”

Crush disconnected the call, not even wanting to hear the canine’s voice for another second. “Wanna go for a ride, MacDermott?”

“You just want me to drive, don’t you?”

“I haven’t had my coffee. Don’t mess with me, woman, when I haven’t had my coffee.”

Dez stood. “We’ll get some on the way.”

Grigori walked into his house and immediately wanted to walk out again. The boy! The goddamn boy! He hadn’t changed! After ten years he hadn’t changed!

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

The boy looked up from wrestling the couch out of the living room. His giant, L-shaped couch.

“Can’t clean under the couch properly if it’s in my way.”