“I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

“Well, good job!” She gave him the thumbs up and strutted her fine ass out the door.

Janette sat down next to him.

“How’s your day, Nik?”

He looked at her. She smiled, her fangs peeking out a bit. Damn leopards.

“Fine. Not as good as yours though.”

“Very true, Nik,” she patted his thigh. “Very, very true.”

***

“A permit,” Angie gave a little pout. “Really?”

“Sorry, darlin’. You can buy a hunting rifle now, though.”

Her shoulder still hurt from using that damn shotgun from earlier in the day. She really preferred handguns. Besides, she would still need ID and all her stuff was in Texas.

She shook her head. “No thanks.” She glanced around the sports and firearms store, deciding to go back to the standard weapons she once used before she became old enough to start buying guns.

Quickly grabbing what she needed, she had the lovely man charge it to Nik’s account. It seemed everyone in town knew the hillbillies. And every woman definitely seemed to know Nikolai Vorislav. Not surprising, though. Even she had to admit he was damn fine. Especially when she found ways to annoy the living shit out of him.

She took her bag of purchases and walked out the door, heading to the store she’d left Nik in. Halfway there, a sweet black leather skirt caught her eye in one of the shops.

She walked in and immediately a salesgirl was at her beck and call. She really liked this town. They knew how to treat people. Of course, almost everyone she’d met so far were a little less than human. But after finding out about most of the people in her own town, she really wasn’t too concerned.

Angie took the skirt from the clerk, putting her bag down in one of the chairs. She held it up against her body as she stared at herself in the mirror. Cute. And an Armani original.

“Does Nik Vorislav have an account here?”

“His family does, yes.”

“Great. Charge this to that…and anything else I find to amuse me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She giggled as she wondered the best way to make sure Vorislav saw the price tag. She loved the look he got on his face when she did that.

“Enjoying Vorislav’s money, are we?”

Angie glanced over her shoulder, quickly realizing they had her surrounded. Six of them. All gold and gorgeous.

She turned slowly, her eyes straying to the bag she’d brought into the store with her. Nope. She’d never make it before they ripped her apart. And, yet…she got the feeling they didn’t want to hurt her.

“As a matter of fact, yes I am.”

One of the females laughed, “Good.”

Another one, holding aphone, looked Angie up and down. “Are you Angelina Santiago?”

No point in lying now. But Angie couldn’t help but return the once over before answering, “Yeah.”

She handed Angie the phone, “Here.”

Completely confused, Angie took it. “Hello?”

“Is this Angelina Santiago?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, hi there! This is Victoria Löwe.”

“Who?”

“Long story short, I’m a lioness looking for a truce.”

“With who?”

“With the Magnus Pack.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Well, I’ve tried to communicate with Sara Morrighan, but she refuses to talk to me or any of us.”

The other females stepped away to look at the clothes while Angie used the phone. “You think that could be because you killed her mother?” One of them picked up a hideous dress and Angie frowned. The woman caught her expression. She held it up and Angie shook her head. “No way,” she mouthed at her.

She didn’t know these people and they were the mortal enemies of her best friend, but dammit, bad fashion was bad fashion. And she couldn’t let someone go through life thinking that dress was okay.

“I didn’t do anything, Ms. Santiago. In fact, I wasn’t even born yet. But all that aside, the Withell Pride is dead and gone. I’d like us to move past this. The entire cat nation would like that as well.”

Cat nation? There’s a cat nation?

Angie took the horrid dress from the woman’s hands and put it back on the rack. She grabbed a sexy little gold number and held it up against the woman’s body. “So what do you want from me?”

“Talk to her. Get her to speak to me.”

The dress would look great on the woman, so Angie gave her a strong nod of approval. “I don’t get into Sara’s business and she doesn’t get into mine. It’s helped us have a very long, healthy relationship.”

A tug on her arm turned Angie around to face a cute outfit on the wrong female. She grimaced. “No. No.” She took the outfit and tossed it on top of the racks.

“No, no, what?”

“Not you.” Angie dragged the female over to another rack across the floor. She found an elegant suit with the woman’s name—whatever name that may be—written on it. The female blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Look. I can talk to Sara, but talk don’t mean shit to her. If you want a truce with Sara Morrighan, you better be prepared to show her how far you’ll go.”

“And how far is that?”

“I have no idea.” Hell, with Sara, it could be Mars.