Sighing dramatically, Dee ambled across the room to see the horror that lay in wait. He knew what she was going to do. Or what she’d try to do—show Ric what a big wuss he was being. Well, let her try, he thought, seconds before she fled back to his side, panting, eyes wide in fear.
“It hissed at me,” she said, her voice a tad higher than he’d ever heard it before.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Are rats supposed to hiss?”
“It’s not a farm rat, Dee. It’s a Manhattan rat.”
“It’s the size of my cousin’s dog!”
“And has a nest it’s protecting, so I suggest we just get the hell—”
It came skidding out into the middle of the room, all long and ripped like it had been on steroids for years. It hissed at the pair again, beady eyes red and pulsating with rage. And, going on instinct alone rather than rational thought, the two wolves made a crazed run for it, right out the door and into the hall, Ric slamming the door shut behind them. They stood with their backs against it, their shoulders pressed together, both of them panting, even shaking a little.
On the other side, that thing slammed its entire body against the wood, small claws viciously digging. The pair jumped and Dee, the She-wolf who had faced the meanest predators in this country and others, grabbed Ric’s hand and yanked him away and down the stairs, jumping over trash and drunks until they reached his car, which he was glad to see was still there.
He unlocked the doors with his remote and yanked the driver’s side door open. That’s when Ric looked up, sensing they were being watched. He’d give anything to see some terrifying human standing there, maybe with a high-powered rifle, ready to shoot them both dead. But it wasn’t some terrifying human.
“Dee . . .”
Slowly, Dee looked over her shoulder and up. The rat—a female with babes to protect—stood on the sill of that open window, glaring down at them with those beady rat eyes. Then it hissed again, showing a mouthful of fangs.
They both scrambled into the car.
“Go!” Dee yelled. “Go, go, go!”
He did, starting the car, and tearing out of that spot, grateful that the German car gods had created his car so that it went from zero to sixty in six seconds flat.
Ric didn’t stop driving until he was forced to by traffic and a red light several blocks away.
Still panting, he gripped the wheel. “You’re never going back there,” he told her, unconcerned that he was ordering her around about her personal life, a line he rarely ever crossed with anyone. Yet he simply didn’t care. “That rat and her family own that apartment now. We’ll find you something else. Something nicer.”
Dropping back against the seat, Dee nodded and said, “Okay.” And left it at that.
The light changed and Ric headed back to his place, where there was furniture, electricity, and absolutely, unequivocally, no vermin.
CHAPTER 9
“I’m not dirty.”
She couldn’t even look at him she was so mortified. Mortified and embarrassed.
“Sorry?” Van Holtz said, all politeness. But she knew what he must be thinking. What she’d be thinking if the tables were turned.
“I said I’m not dirty,” Dee-Ann repeated. “I know that’s what you must be thinking after seeing that . . . thing in my apartment, but it’s not true.”
“Why must I be thinking that?”
“Gee, I don’t know. ’Cause there was a colony of rats in my place?”
“I’d probably be more concerned if you actually lived there, Dee-Ann. But you clearly haven’t been.” He stepped next to her and placed a plate in front of her. It was filled with a hunk of that angel food cake with white icing that he had at his restaurant. A cake that had become her all-time favorite. So did Ric just happen to have her favorite cake lying around? He preferred German chocolate cake from what she could tell.
“Except for the few clothes and your bag,” he went on, “your scent had faded. I didn’t see any weapons and Christ knows you’d have needed them in that place. So I’m in no way assuming you are some filthy rat-meister who breeds rats for your vicious army that will one day take over the world. Milk?”
Dee blinked, snorted a little. He’d made her laugh. At this moment, no less. For that alone, she might just love him a little. “I would like some milk. Thank you very kindly.”
Ric walked to the fridge and brought over an unopened carton of whole milk. “You can sleep in the room Lock used to use when he didn’t have his apartment yet. It’s got a bear-size king.” He filled a tall glass with milk, but left the carton. Dee knew she drank milk like a growing fourteen-year-old on the junior high football team, and Ric always seemed to make sure to have several fresh cartons in his apartment for when she dropped by to talk business. “And you can wear one of my T-shirts.”
“I sleep naked.”
She saw him swallow.
“And feel free to keep doing so.”
She laughed again. “All this fuss isn’t necessary. I don’t need to stay here.”
“I have tons of room.”
Yeah, he had tons of room all right. His place was huge, with high ceilings and extremely wide rooms. It was a place he’d bought himself and he only lived on the top floor. He leased out the rest of the building and made a fortune doing it. And not once, since Dee began showing up at all hours to meet with Ric about the Group, had she ever felt like she belonged here.
“I can crash at my cousin Bobby Ray’s place.”
“With the wild dogs?”
He had a point. “I can stay with Sissy Mae. She’s rarely there anyway.”
“But when she is, Mitch Shaw is with her and you’ll get the joy of dealing daily with a demanding lion male.”
Damn him, but he was right. More than once Dee had wondered how Sissy put up with Mitch Shaw and had often found herself daydreaming about all the ways she could tear pieces of him off his body without actually killing him.
“Guess it’ll be Rory then.” Great. More females she’d have to kick out on a daily basis, no matter how many times the man promised the latest one-night stand was the last. “He won’t mind.”
“I bet he won’t,” Van Holtz muttered, slamming his own plate of cake down as he sat cattycorner from her.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“No. Not at all. Crash at Reed’s, if that’s what you want. Hope you two are very happy together.”
“Just because I’m crashing at Rory’s place don’t mean we’re doing anything together . . . and why am I explaining this to you?”
He stared at her and asked, “Why do you think?”
Dee thought about it a minute. “You’re interested in Rory Lee?”
Ric lowered his head, his eyes shifting from human to wolf. They were blue when wolf. Like an Arctic wolf’s. “You cannot be that clueless, Dee-Ann.”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“You know what? Forget I said anything.” He pointed at the cake she hadn’t touched yet. “Are you going to eat that?”
“When I feel like it.”
“You don’t have to get snippy. I brought the cake from work for you.”
“Did I ask you to?” she snipped at him.
“Fine. Don’t eat the cake. I’ll eat it myself.” He reached for it and Dee, feeling really difficult, shoved it out of his way.
“Didn’t say I wouldn’t eat the cake, Van Holtz.”