It was the bacon that, for some reason, made it all ... weird.

The She-lion, Cosworth, pushed back from the table and stood up, glaring down at Crush.

“Your foster mother is Peg Baissier?”

Crush, after tearing off the fat and handing the meat of the bacon to Malone, said, “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell us this before because ...”

Now chewing said bacon fat, “Because I haven’t lived with the woman in more than twenty years?”

“I don’t care if you haven’t lived with her for five thousand years.”

Crush frowned. “But then we’d be dead and most likely not having this conversation. Unless, of course, we were time travelers.”

Smith chuckled. “I do love me some bear logic.”

“What I’m trying to say,” Cosworth growled while cutting a lethal glare at Smith, “is that perhaps you’re actually working for Baissier.”

“That’s a possibility. Although the firing back and hitting the target might make me not so welcome at the annual Christmas party. Plus ... Baissier hates me.”

“But your brothers work for her.”

“So?”

“And you’re all triplets.”

“So?”

Cella placed her elbow on the table and her chin on her raised fist.

“Isn’t there a bond or something between triplets?” Cosworth demanded.

“Oh! You mean like when one of my brothers burns his hand and the other two feel it?”

“Yeah!”

“No. That doesn’t happen.”

Cella and Smith snorted, both quickly looking away while Cosworth’s golden feline eyes narrowed.

“Calmly,” Gentry warned, tapping her forefinger on the table. “You don’t want me breaking out in a five-hundred-pound, seven-foot panic.”

“All I’m asking,” and he could almost hear that Cosworth wanted to add something like “troglodyte” in there somewhere but was too afraid of Gentry, “is whether you can be trusted?”

“I don’t know if you can ask me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m sure even a sociopath would think they can be trusted. Or if I’m delusional, I wouldn’t know I was delusional and I may think I can be trusted when in fact, I can’t, because I’m delusional.”

“You’re delusional?”

“No.” Crush pointed at her, thoroughly enjoying their discourse. “But if I were delusional, I wouldn’t know that I was delusional.” He grinned, believing his point made. “Because I would be delusional.”

Crush, proud of himself, sat back. A good thing since if he hadn’t, he would have had that She-lion’s clawsaround his throat, her spit-filled roar splattering his face. Thankfully, Cella and the little lynx grabbed their boss and dragged her out of the kitchen.

“We’ll be right back!” Cella said, yanking the struggling female out with her.

Crush looked around at the sow, wolves, and full-human staring at him. “I thought I made some very valid points.”

The She-wolf shrugged. “Sounded like it to me.”

MacDermot nodded. “I thought so, too. And can I just say ... I love that you’re my partner now. Because you are actually more annoying than I am. And I’m annoying.” She grinned. “And the best part? You’re not even trying to be!”

“And he’s the one you’re fucking?” Cosworth demanded, pacing back and forth outside Van Holtz’s front door.

“You’ve gotta admit he’s cute.”

Nina nodded. “Very cute. I love polar bear eyes. All black and mysterious.”

Cosworth faced them, hands in their faces, snarling. But before she could light into them, her cell phone—thankfully—went off. She glanced at it. “It’s Löwe.”

Cella’s boss’s boss’s boss. Heh.

“Why don’t you deal with that and we’ll finish up here,” Nina suggested in her best innocent voice. It was why she was management and wasn’t even thirty-five yet.

Cosworth was debating that when her unanswered phone went off again. Gritting her teeth, she ordered, “Whatever you do, rein this shit in. Understand?”

“Absolutely,” Nina promised.

They waited until Cosworth was on the elevator and the doors had closed, then Nina looked at her. Cella expected a little bit of a strategy discussion, but instead her boss said, “Your boyfriend is so cute.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my pretend boyfriend.”

“Why?”

“It annoys him.”

Nina, heading back to the penthouse, shook her head. “You are such a feline, Malone.”

Once the cats were back, thankfully without the cranky She-lion, Crush handed over a plate of fat-reduced bacon to Malone. She smiled, winked at him, and began eating.

“What is with you and the fat?” Nina asked him.

“Polar bears mostly eat fat rather than actual meat,” Dez offered. When everyone stared, “I was watching Animal Planet last night.”

“Anyway,” the little lynx said, crossing her eyes, “I don’t care what I just told Cosworth to keep the She-lion roaring to a minimum. We need to put a stop to Baissier and we need to do it now. She is out of control.”

“I agree.” Van Holtz shook his head. “But we can’t kill her.”