He knew the victim in each one. Had studied the information about each, knew how they’d died, how they’d suffered. And he’d done all that just for this reason. For what was happening right here—at this moment. “This is Michael Franks. A mechanic. Had a wife and four pups. His injuries were so bad, we were forced to put him down on-site.” And another picture. “And this is—”

“All right. All right.” Hutton cut in, waving her hand dismissively. “I get your point. God, you’re such a drama wolf.”

“But now that Katzenhaft is involved,” Matilda Llewellyn suddenly volunteered, “perhaps they can take the lead—and the financial hit.” Matilda was one of those ancient shifters who just wouldn’t die. She-lions had a tendency to live a long time anyway and Matilda seemed to be ready to outlast everyone if she could manage it. Van was afraid that she could manage it quite nicely at the rate she was going.

“Katzenhaft is involved now?” Melinda Löwe sat up straight. “Katzenhaft doesn’t get involved in anything to do with hybrids.”

“Apparently their philosophy has changed—as has ours. And perhaps you should talk to your niece Victoria, since she runs KZS.”

Melinda, who’d known him for what felt like centuries, rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Van. This is KZS we’re talking about. Even the Prides don’t have control over them.”

“That’s probably why they get things done,” Clarice Dupris of the Dupris hyena Clan muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Seeing where this would quickly be heading, Van stood. “Meeting adjourned. Because I’m rather sick of all of you right now.”

With shrugs and eye rolls, the predators he was forced to work with for the good of his kind, got up and headed out for the lunch he had set up in one of his Pack’s restaurants on the top floor of this Chicago hotel. Really, Van would rather get to his jet and head home to his wife, kids, and kitchen, but he’d make it through lunch. That was the great thing about predators—little talking while they ate, and they all ate quickly. In another hour, he would be heading home.

Thinking about that, he motioned to his assistant and began to pull the papers together when Matilda made her slow way to his side with the help of a cane and one of her young great nieces.

“So young Niles,” she greeted, flashing those fangs that could no longer retract. That’s how old she was. It was like she was turning into a very large and lean cat full time. It was weird. Even for fellow shifters . . . it was weird. “How’s it going with that She-wolf? Egbert Smith’s daughter.”

“She’s working out well.” Matilda always had problems with the hiring of Eggie Smith and then Eggie Smith’s daughter. Van didn’t know why, nor did he care. What Matilda always failed to understand was that sometimes one needed killers whenthey were protecting more than a few dollars in the bank or some jewels in a safe. And Eggie and Dee-Ann Smith were both born killers.

“Best watch her, though,” Matilda warned, slowly moving around him, and heading toward the door. “Just like her father, she kills for fun.”

Van’s assistant stood next to him and noted, “You didn’t really argue that point with her, did you?”

“There’s no point in arguing the truth.”

CHAPTER 5

R ic walked into his apartment, placing his hockey bag right by the closet. Yawning, he headed down the hallway toward his kitchen, but stopped when he saw light coming from his office. Without thought, he pulled out the .45 he kept holstered to the back of his jeans more and more these days.

Checking corners as he went, Ric made his way to his office, but stopped right inside the doorway.

“Dee-Ann.”

“You gonna shoot me, supermodel?”

“If you keep calling me supermodel.” He put the safety back on his weapon and pushed it back into the holster. “What are you doing here?”

“Needed some information and knew your computer was linked in to the Group’s database.”

“True. Of course, you can also access the Group’s database by using one of the PCs at the Group office. As opposed to illegally breaking into my apartment, I mean.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She pointed at his TV. “Plus you have a plasma flat screen and a real comfy office chair. Ergonomic and all that.”

Ric walked over to the desk and yelled, “What I’m trying to say, Dee-Ann, is that you can’t just keep coming in and out of my apartment whenever you like!” Startled, Dee gawked up at him, which was when he added with a smile, “Unless you’re naked.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Like a wolf with a bone.”

“Don’t I deserve to get a little something out of it if you’re going to come and go as you like?”

“You get the blessing of my company.”

Ric resumed his trip to the kitchen. “I’ll make your blessing something to eat.”

“You don’t always have to feed me, Van Holtz.”

“If I don’t, who will?”

Tonight all Dee got were ham-and-cheese sandwiches with some tomato soup. That is, the sandwich was freshly carved Black Forest ham with some fancy French cheese with a name she couldn’t pronounce, seasoned with cracked black pepper on fresh baguettes, and toasted in the oven. The soup was made from scratch with tomatoes he grew in the hot house he’d had built into part of his big penthouse apartment so he could have fresh vegetables and herbs for his home cooking. She was surprised he didn’t have a cow in there somewhere for the milk he gave her. She wouldn’t put it past him.