"Stay away from my sisters, Doogan. Or next time I'll make sure this ends differently."

Doogan didn't answer, he just left.

Smitty resheathed his claws and wiped blood off his hands. "Well that was almost as much fun as the cops pretending to be hookers."

Mace smiled and grimaced all at the same time. His face and chest hurt.

"Shouldn't the cops be here by now?"

Smitty's innocent statement made Mace laugh outright.

His friend grabbed his arm and pulled him under a street lamp. "Let's see your face, hoss." He winced. "Yup. They did some damage."

"Thanks." Mace went to touch his face, but Smitty held his hand back. "I wouldn't have known if you hadn't pointed it out to me, Smitty."

"Don't get sassy with me, hoss."

"Sorry. I can't stop thinking about what would have happened if Dez had still been with us."

"That's easy. There would have been a lot of people dead. Between the two of ya. She got that look in her eye. She's a predator, son. And don't think for a second she ain't."

"Dez would be the least of their worries."

"My, my. We are awfully protective of a woman we haven't seen in years."

"Don't start, Smitty."

He chuckled. "You know, you look real shitty, hoss."

"Thank you very much." Mace moved his jaw around. At least it wasn't broken.

"So shitty you look like you need someone to take care of you."

Mace blinked in confusion. "Why? I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Someone to take care of you, Mace. Tend your wounds. Comfort you in her very large, sweet bosom."

Mace shook his head. "No. No way, Smitty."

"Would you trust me?"

"That's a shitty thing to do. It's almost catlike in its evilness."

"See, your problem is you underestimate dogs. There's a reason many of us are let up on the couch, while they keep y'all in a zoo."

"This is a stupid conversation."

"We're stupid men. Stupid men who like their women big chested and loud."

"You think Dez is loud?"

"Nah. Sissy's loud. Your woman does have quite the voice, though. Like someone took a sandblaster to her vocal cords."

"I like her voice."

"I know dirt roads in the poorest part of Tennessee that are smoother than that girl's voice. Although, I have to admit, I did enjoy watching her suck that finger clean."

"It's almost like you want me to hurt you."

"Gina?"

Dark brown eyes that were almost black focused on her. Filled with such intense sadness, Dez hated that the woman freaked her out so much. But something about Gina Brutale set her nerves on edge.

"Yeah." She slid off her stool. "Come on." Gina sucked back the rest of her scotch and dropped the glass on the bar.

She glanced at the women with her. "I'll be back in a bit."

The women didn't respond. Instead, they stared at Dez. Perhaps the most uncomfortable experience she'd had in a long time, and Dez's job consisted of uncomfortable experiences. But the way they stared at her-that's what freaked her out. Like they were silently plotting which parts of her body would saute well in olive oil.

Gina walked away from the bar and Dez followed her, glancing back once at the women. They were still staring at her. She fought the urge to shudder.

Gina walked to an office in a deserted part of the club and went to open the door, but someone pulled it open from the other side. A woman who resembled Gina stepped out. The two women stared at each other. Actually, they really glared. Almost vicious in its intensity.

Eventually the woman's brown eyes turned to Dez. "Who the fuck is that?"

"None of ya fuckin' business."

Dez rolled her eyes. This sounded like one of those typical arguments between girls in her old neighborhood. They usually degenerated into hair pulling until knives were eventually drawn.

She didn't have time for that.

"Can this wait? I gotta life."

Gina proceeded into the office. The other woman made to move around her but stopped and suddenly sniffed Dez instead.

Dez reared back. "Can I help you?"

She grunted. "Another one."

Dez had no idea what that meant, but she didn't have a chance to ask as the woman walked off.

Shaking her head, she entered the office, closing the door behind her.

"Interesting girl."

"She's a bitch." Gina slid on top of a highly polished mahogany desk. "And my sister. Anne Marie."

"My sympathies."

She snorted. "We all have our own personal hell. She's mine."

Dez took in the office. Fancy, but it didn't look very used. Lots of mahogany and glass. It didn't look like the office of a woman.

"Whose office is this?"

"My father's. But he doesn't come here very often."

Dez almost gave in to her desire to find out more about the well-known but rarely seen Gino Brutale. Instead, she forced herself to remember she was in this club for a reason. Not to see if she could find out more about Brutale's mob ties.

"So...you wanted to talk to me about Alexander Petrov's death?"

"Yeah. Ya see, he was..."

The woman struggled with her admission, but Dez didn't know why. "He was..." she coaxed.

Brutale stood tall, suddenly proud. "He was with me. He was my lover."

Dez didn't understand why Gina needed to fear admitting that information. Brutale was no youngster. She appeared to be in her early to midthirties. And it wasn't like Petrov ran some rival mob family, unless Missy was up to more than she realized. Which Dez seriously doubted.

Dez waited for Gina to continue.

"I saw him the night he died. When he left me that night, he was very much alive. I don't know if anyone followed him. I do know Missy Llewellyn would lose her friggin' mind if she knew about us."

Dez stepped forward. "And did she know?"

"I don't know. But he was going to leave her and stay with me. I don't know if he ever got around to telling her that, though."

"Petrov and Missy Llewellyn were...together? A couple?" Maybe, but who would put up with that heartless bitch?

"It's too complicated to explain. But, basically, she owned him."

What the hell does that mean?

"What do you mean she owned him? She had something on him?"

"No. But he belonged to her. She wouldn't take him leaving well. Especially if he were leaving her for me."

"Why you? What connection do you have with the Llewellyns?" A Jersey girl like Brutale wouldn't exactly be welcome at a Llewellyn banquet, and they both knew it.

"Our families have...a history, you might say. We've hated each other for a long time."

"Do you think Missy killed him?"

"I don't know. I really don't. Shootin' him in the back of the head, though, doesn't really seem Missy's style, ya know?"

Dez shrugged. "I couldn't tell ya."

"All I'm sayin' is, you need to look at Missy Llewellyn for this. Look at her close. She shouldn't be able to get away with this. Just cause he loved me and not her."

"Yeah. But are you sure he loved you?"

Brutale locked her beady dark eyes on Dez's face. "What?"

"Maybe you want me to focus on Missy because you want her to suffer more. Maybe Petrov wouldn't leave her. Maybe he didn't love you at all. So you got rid of him yourself." Dez didn't really believe that, but she wanted to see Brutale's reaction.

She wasn't disappointed. She blinked and suddenly Gina Brutale stood right in front of her. Their bodies almost touching. Rage and sorrow came off Brutale in waves, practically knocking Dez out of the room.

"I loved him. He loved me. Anybody tell you different, they're lyin'. We had plans, him and me. Plans to run this family together."

"Maybe your father wasn't okay with that."

"My father will do what I tell him to do. The women run this family. Not the men."

Well, that was new. "Okay."

Brutale glared at her for a long minute. Then she took one step back. Then another. Eventually a good five feet separated the women. But Dez still didn't feel safe. She wouldn't feel that way until she got the hell out of the building.

"But I will say this, Detective-whoever killed him better pray to the Mother Mary you get to them first. They better pray I never fuckin' find out. Cause I'll kill 'em myself. And I'll make sure they suffer for what they done."

Dez didn't doubt Gina's words for even a second. She wanted out of this building. She wasn't even supposed to be on this case. Suddenly, nailing Missy took a backseat to her basic survival.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that."

Dez backed up from Brutale. She didn't feel comfortable turning her back on the woman. She grabbed hold of the doorknob, opened the door, and eased out into the club.

She cut through the enormous place, including the back bar where she found Brutale. She had to pass the same pack of women, only this time Brutale's sister was with them. As she moved past them, the lightest touch nipped her neck.

Reaching back, Dez grabbed the hand touching her and twisted until Anne Marie Brutale lay on the floor at her feet, howling in pain. Dez planted her foot in the woman's side and twisted her arm again. This time even farther away from her body. A few more inches and she'd break the bone at the shoulder.

"Don't you ever fuckin' touch me again." The grip she had on the woman she learned from the Marine Corps. The statement-that was all Bronx.

Gina Brutale walked in. She stared dispassionately at her sister. It had to be the coldest look Dez had ever seen. As much as she detested her own sisters sometimes, Dez would never let anyone else hurt them. Not ever.

"I really hope I made myself clear." She twisted Anne Marie's arm a bit more for emphasis, pulling another brutal howl from her throat. The sound sent a nasty shiver up her spine. These people just weren't right.

Yeah. Dez wanted out of here.

She glanced around at the women watching her. None of them seemed very interested. She glanced down at Anne Marie. She had big, long nails. The kind her sisters never let her get because they said they were "beyond tacky." She glared at those nails, suddenly very concerned with them, but she didn't know what the woman's tacky fashion sense had to with anything.

Dez finally released Anne Marie and backed away from the women. When far enough away, she spun on her heel and headed toward the front exit and home.

Mace crouched on the hard ground, his back against the passenger side of Dez's SUV, and impatiently waited. He didn't like to wait.

Of course, the knowledge that he would be going to hell for this, misleading a beautiful woman he was crazy about, didn't make the waiting any easier. At least, however, he would go to hell with a smile.

Mace wiped the last bit of blood dripping from his nose. Even with the blood in his nose, he could still smell Christmas in the air. He didn't know how all the scents he could detect reminded him of this particular holiday, but they did. He loved those smells. Actually, he loved the holiday, he'd just never been able to truly enjoy it. Even the times he'd gone with Smitty to his mother's in Tennessee. True enough, she always went out of her way to make Mace feel like part of the Smith family, even part of their Pack, but Mace never forgot he didn't belong. Of course, he didn't belong with his own Pride either. Instead, he'd have to make his own family. His and his alone. And every fiber of his being told him Dez was the one. She would be the one to make every Christmas special for him. Of course, she did seem to detest the holiday, but no one ever said Dez wasn't difficult.