“Hello, my hybrid brother!” Vic crowed.

“Christ, Novikov,” Jake demanded. “How much vodka did you give him?”

“I don’t know. A bottle. Or two.” He then picked Vic up in a fireman carry, and Livy rushed up the stairs to unlock the door.

Novikov carried him to their room, dropping Vic onto the bed.

“Can you make it back to the wild dog house?” Livy asked.

“Of course,” Bo snapped. “I’m not weak like him. I’m strong. Cossack strong.”

Then Novikov walked into a wall, stumbled back, and passed out on the floor by the bed.

Livy stared down at the two snoring, drunk males. “Well . . . I’ll go tell Blayne that Novikov is staying here for the night.”

“Hey, cousin.”

“What?”

“Think we can get some signed jerseys from Novikov?”

Livy faced Jake. “Are you asking because you’ve suddenly become a hockey fan, or do you just want to sell them for some outrageous sum to very rich European shifters?”

Jake shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Sighing, Livy walked away from her cousin and went to track down Blayne.

CHAPTER 28

Livy felt someone stroke her hair, and she looked up to see a showered, shaved, and expertly dressed Vic crouching beside the bed she’d gone to sleep in the night before, when she’d left him and Novikov snoring in the other bedroom.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost eight. You going in to work?”

“Sure. Where are you going?”

“Have to go meet someone.”

“A woman?”

“No. Why?”

“You’re all dressed up.”

“There are some people you don’t meet looking shabby.”

Livy snorted. “You’re meeting a Russian mobster?”

Vic blinked, his entire body tensing. “How did you know that?”

“You ask me these questions when you know I come from a family of unrepentant felons.”

He chuckled and kissed her. “I’ll call you when I’m done. Novikov’s already gone to get in his training. So don’t worry about him.”

“I wasn’t planning to worry about him,” she sighed out, snuggling into her pillow. “Be careful.”

Vic stopped in the doorway and gazed at her a moment before replying in Polish, “I will.”

That was when she realized she’d actually cautioned him in Polish. A language she reserved for talking to her family. And it was like Vic understood the significance of that slip.

Livy, however, refused to dwell on it. Refused.

Vic met Grigori Volkov in a private dining room above the Russian restaurant the mobster owned with his Pack deep in theheart of Brighton Beach.

The Volkov Pack out of Moscow had a rich and violent history. Some American Packs referred to them as the Smiths of Eastern Europe. An insult that had started many a mauling back in the day.

The two men were sitting at a small round table dwarfed by their size, cups of coffee poured for them by a pretty She-wolf waitress.

“It’s good to see you again, Victor Barinov,” Grigori cheered. Unlike many wolves, the older male was a typically happy canine, but his cheerfulness hid a dangerous side that no one really wanted to face without body armor and an escape route. “It has been long time.”

“It has, Grigori. And it’s good to see you, too. I hope all is well with you and your Pack.”

“Very well. The streets of this city are paved with gold and need. My two favorite things.”

Vic smiled, hating himself a little for liking the mobster so much.

“My brothers handle Russia. I handle business here. It all goes well for the Volkovs. But I know you’re not here to catch up on old times, dear Victor. So, what has you coming to Grigori?”

“I’ve been looking into something for someone. And I came across a name that I know was associated with you and your Pack in the past. Don’t know about now, but before anyone moves forward—”

“You want to make sure no ugly lines are crossed. You are so thoughtful for man with feline mother.”

“A feline mother who turned you down for a date, I believe.”

“She did. Big mistake. You could have been my son. All this could have been yours.”

“Oh, let’s admit that your mother never would have let that happen. She’d have seen you and my mother dead first.”

“Excellent point. My sweet mother does hate felines more than fleas in heat of summer.” He flicked his hand. “But that is past. Tell me this name and we will go from there.”

“Rob Yardley.”

And Vic felt it. In that moment. In that second. The air went out of the room. The other wolves who played chess and watched TV nearby slowly looked at him.

Immediately, Vic raised his hands. “Not a problem. I’ll—”

“Quiet,” Grigori snapped. He looked around the room. “Everyone out!” The wolves slowly got to their extremely large feet. “Move as if there is purpose!” Grigori bellowed.

Within seconds, the room cleared out, leaving the two males alone.

“Listen, Grigori—” Vic began.

“No, Victor. No. I speak to you as friend who came to my little girl’s wedding. The friend who saved my life many years back.”

“Grigori, come on. We paid each other back for all those things many years ago.”