Marie shrugged. “True.”
“So what does this have to do with my friendship with Emma?”
“I’m hoping you could put in a good word for me.” Marie winced. “It’s a lot to ask, but this isn’t just about me anymore. There are a number of Pumas who feel the same way I do about Belinda, but none of us want the Curana’s anger directed at us. We just want to heal the breech in the Pride.” She stared at Cyn, her gaze determined, and sad. “It’s gone on too long.”
Cyn had no clue what she could do to ease Marie’s pain. The woman had obviously brought this on herself. “Have you apologized?”
“Should I apologize for something I believe to be true?”
“If Belle proved to her Alphas beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was innocent, shouldn’t you grant her the courtesy of belief?”
Marie took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“I hate to say it, but I think the healing needs to come from you, and all the ones who feel the way you do. I think you’re the only ones who can end it.”
Marie nodded slowly, but it was obvious she was unhappy about it. “I’ll talk to them. Thanks, Cyn.” She smiled softly. “I think we’re going to be good friends.” Marie suddenly grinned. “Now, on to more important things.” She leaned forward, her gaze darting to Cyn’s neck. “When is that hunka hunka going to mark you?” She waggled her brows with a lecherous grin.
Cyn snorted, amused. “Please. He hasn’t been properly trained yet.”
Marie laughed. “Call me if you need any pointers. Those men of ours need to be reminded who really rules the roost. Oh!” She started digging through her purse. “I have the cutest little safari hat you can borrow.
Cyn giggled as Marie shoved a cell phone in her hand. On it was a picture of Marie, safari hat perched on her head, her mate at her side. “Are those bear ears?”
“Yup. I totally made him dance too.”
“You’re nuts.” But she was Cyn’s kind of nuts. Marie was right; they were going to be good friends.
Satisfied that her Dr. Phil moment was over for the week, she polished off her lasagna and wondered what Julian would have to say about all of this.
She pushed thoughts of Julian aside for later. Right now, she had tiramisu to conquer.
Chapter Ten
“I’m glad you didn’t have any trouble while you were out last night.” Gabe Anderson snatched the tapping pencil out of Tabby’s fingers. “I still think it was reckless, though.”
“That’s not what Glory told me you said.” Cyn rolled her eyes and thought about how insane her friend was being. “I hate to say this, I mean I really hate to say this, but I think somebody should just bite her ass.” Maybe then she’d get over the massive cranky fit she was having.
“You’re just saying that because I’ve been singing Weird Al Yankovic all morning.” Glory smirked at them as she worked on the belly button ring display.
Cyn turned and glared at her. “This is revenge for the Super Grover comment.”
Glory’s baby blues went wide with fake innocence. “Can I help it if I love ‘Perform This Way’?”
Gabe cleared his throat, gaining their attention once more. “I’ll be checking in regularly with you ladies, but just in case here’s my cell number. Call me if anything seems to be even remotely off. Until we find out what these guys are after I’m not going to risk your safety.” Gabe tossed the pencil back to Tabby and sauntered out of the shop.
Glory set the display back in the case and dusted off her hands. “Be right back. Feel free to talk about me while I’m gone.”
“What the hell is up with her?” Tabby’s accent had thickened into a deep Georgia drawl, an indication of exactly how upset she was. “She’s acting like a total brat.”
“It’s that whole don’t tie-me-down thing that’s tripping her up.”
“Maybe I should change her.” Rat-a-tat-tat went Tabby’s pencil. “Maybe then she’ll understand why Ryan’s close to losing it.”
“Might not be a bad idea. If she feels that mate pull you guys talk about she’ll stop fighting it so hard.”
“At least you’ve stopped fighting it.”
Cyn shrugged. She couldn’t say she’d completely stopped fighting it, but it was more girl slap now than Gears of War. Julian was proving he was nothing like her father, and she was proving to herself she was nothing like her mother. Now if only she could get over the fear that he’d do a complete one-eighty once he bit her they’d be golden.
“Did I tell you, Micah called me again?” Tabby’s tapping pencil picked up speed.
The new Alpha of Tabby’s old Pack had been relentless in his attempts to try and speak with her. “Did you pick up the phone this time?”
“Hell, no. Alex still wants to go down there and find Dennis Boyd and rip him a new one. You think I’m really going to open up that can of whoop-ass on the Marietta Pack?”
Cyn shrugged. “What about your parents, have they called too?”
Tabby snorted. “Please. They tossed me away like last week’s garbage. Even if they wanted to speak to me, I don’t want to speak to them.” She wrinkled her nose as if smelling the garbage she spoke of. “Besides, my pack and my family are here.”
As long as Tabby was happy, Cyn didn’t give a rat’s ass if her friend never spoke to her biological family again. “In that case the next time he calls, tell him to fuck off.”
“Genteelly, of course.” She picked up the pencil and stared at it cross eyed.
“Uh-huh.” What the hell was Tabby doing?
“Because I’m a lady.” She sniffed along the pencil, starting when she poked her nose with the tip.
“More like a puppy. Don’t eat that, you don’t know where it’s been.”
Cyn ducked as Tabby threw the pencil at her head. She sniffed the air in short staccato bursts, then snorted much like a dog would. “What is that funky smell?”
The sound of a toilet flushing made Cyn giggle.
“Not that!” Tabby’s nose scrunched up. “Although that’s pretty ripe too.”
Glory stepped out from behind the employees’ only curtain and eyed Cyn, who was still giggling like a loon. “What the hell is wrong with her?”
“Do you smell something funky?”
Glory blushed and dug her toe into the worn linoleum. “Um, yeah, I’m sorry about that. See, I had cheese with lunch, and—”
“No! It doesn’t smell…biological.”
Cyn took a deep breath, but all she could smell was the shop itself. It was a combination of ink and paper and dust and glass cleaner, just like always. “I don’t smell anything.”
Tabby’s nose wrinkled. “You can’t smell that? It’s like, kind of, ick.” She was practically gagging. She pulled the edge of her shirt away from her neck and pulled it up to her nose, sniffing cautiously.
“Are you smelling coffee again?” Recently the smell of coffee made Tabby nauseous. Thank God she wasn’t living in the apartment anymore. Glory would’ve had to kill her. Glory without her morning coffee was like the Terminator without John Connor—bat-shit insane and absolutely lethal.
Tabby wrinkled her nose in disgust. “No, it’s not coffee. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything quite like it before.”
Cyn looked over at Glory who shook her head. “I can’t smell a thing.”
Cyn bit her lip, but it really wasn’t that hard a decision to make. “I think this qualifies as anything weird. Call Gabe.”
“On it.” Glory pulled out her cell phone. She must have put the sheriff on speed dial, because within two seconds she was talking to him.
“I’m going to find where the hell that’s coming from.” Tabby stalked out from behind the counter and headed toward the back, into the employee–only area. “What is it?” She was muttering to herself as she followed the scent to the back door.