“I’m going to kill Eduardo and Joaquin.” They had to have caught an airjet to get home so fast.
“Those two didn’t say a word except to tell me anyone else I send up had better be prepared to come back sans body parts.”
“Then how do you know anything about my life?”
“I have ears. I use them.” An impatient sound. “Put me on the viewscreen so I can see your face.”
Blowing out a breath, Mercy did as ordered. An instant later, her maternal grandmother’s face appeared on-screen, beautiful, determined, and dangerously intelligent. Isabella was on oddity in her part of the world, with pale cream skin and hair that had been a rich dark gold before it turned a stunning white, traits she’d bequeathed her daughter, Lia—Mercy’s mom. Family legend said somebandidoway back when hadstolen away with the daughter of a French admiral, and now, every so often, the genetics kicked up an unexpected blonde. Mercy didn’t know if that was true, but Isabella was certainly regal. She’d undoubtedly look as haughty at a hundred and thirty.
“A wolf?” Isabella repeated.
“No.”
Isabella narrowed her dark brown eyes. “Lying to your grandmother is a mortal sin.”
“It’s not a lie. He’s an ass.”
“I could’ve told you that.” A sniff. “I know wolves can be attractive, but seriou—”
“Back up.” Mercy held up a hand. “How do you know?”
“None of your business.”
Mercy grinned. “Played with a wolf, did you?”
“If I did, I came to my senses in time.” But her lips were twitching. “Be careful, Mercy girl. They’re different from us.”
“Gran.”
“No, you have to know—they are different. They tend to be more brutal in their pack structure, for one.”
Mercy thought of Hawke’s rule, compared it with Lucas’s. Yeah, there were differences, but both men would kill for those under their care. “We’re the same as far as the things that matter.”
“If you mate with him—”
Mercy all but screamed. “Who said anything about mating? I just had my own bit of fun. End of story.”
Isabella raised an eyebrow. “Never seen a man rile you up like this before.”
“I’ll get over it.” She had to. Because what he’d done . . . “He fucking hurt me, Gran.”
Sascha lay curled up in bed beside Lucas, playing her fingers over his chest. “Do you think Sienna’s alright?” They’d decided to stick with the girl’s real name. With her eyes covered up and her hair dyed a temporary brunette, she looked nothing like her old self.
“Kit knows who she is—he’ll make sure she’s not overwhelmed.”
“At least it’s an outdoor dance, easier for her to acclimate—she can walk off if things get too much.” The older juveniles and young adults had thrown together the dance/dinner/ excuse for flirting after Sienna had “come to visit from Talin’s hometown.”
The fact that she was actually sleeping at Lucas and Sascha’s fazed no one—packmates were used to accommodating others and Tally’s house was full. So the logistics had been neatly skirted, but still . . . “She’s been so sheltered, first in the Net, then in the SnowDancer den.”
“She’ll be fine. I made sure everyone knows she’s under my protection.” He squeezed her. “Not that it’s necessary—Kit won’t leave her side.”
“I’m worried it’s too soon.”
“The whole point of this week is to give her some time out.” He spread his fingers over her lower back. “If she can get things under better control—”
“She’s already more stable,” Sascha said, having felt the girl settle as soon as they left the den.
“Good. That’ll give her more time.”