“Now I understand,” a woman’s heavily accented voice said from behind Livy, “what my son sees in you.”

Livy slowly rolled back up and turned to face the woman standing in the bedroom doorway. The tigress smiled at her, and Livy saw Vic in that smile. “You do not startle easily, I see. That is good.”

The She-tiger walked into the room, all the while sizing Livy up. “We were just listening to tales of your troubles. I was sorry to hear what happened to your father. I knew him, you know. We were not friends, and I am not surprised he died so young, but still . . . none of us should die like that.”

Vic’s mother was impeccably dressed in a designer suit, designer shoes, and with a designer handbag under her arm. Her long black hair with streaks of red, white, and gray was twisted into a perfect chignon. Her makeup was subtle but enhanced her brilliant gold eyes. Although she was in her early sixties, the woman dripped poise and elegance and sex. Raw, feline sex.

But Livy wasn’t fooled. This Siberian tigress was a hardened predator.

Now beside Livy, the She-tiger touched her shoulders and gently turned Livy around.

“Tsk-tsk. So many bullets. And yet you still live. But your kind has never been easy to kill.”

“Tried a few times, have you?” Livy asked, turning back around since she knew tigers always attacked from behind.

“We all have done things in our past we’d like to forget. I’m sure one day you will try not to remember shooting all those bears in the head and leaving their cooling corpses on the floor of your Sports Center.”

“They shot first.”

“Yes. Of course they did.”

“Is there something you want . . . um . . .”

“I am Semenova Gribkova-Barinov.”

“Please tell me you have a nickname.”

“My American friends called me Nova. Although I did not think my name would be a challenge for you.”

“Only if I have to say it every time I talk to you. So . . . is there something you want, Nova?”

“Just get dressed and come downstairs. We have much to discuss with you and your family.”

“I’ll be right down.”

The She-tiger walked out, and Livy started to grab clothes from a duffel bag one of her cousins had brought from Livy’s apartment. God, it felt like forever since she’d been back to that apartment. Was it even still standing, or had Melly returned and destroyed it?

Livy began to put her clothes on, but she hadn’t had a shower since the day before and she felt a little . . . icky. So she found the bathroom attached to the bedroom she was in, but froze in the doorway. She’d never seen a bathroom like this before. The floor was marble. The sink marble and stainless steel. There was an enormous built-in tub and a separate shower with glass doorsand more showerheads than seemed necessary with temperatures that were managed digitally.

It was a really nice bathroom, if a little extravagant. For her taste anyway.

So Livy ended up taking a longer shower than she planned. Hard not to once she realized she could adjust the temperature of each showerhead individually.

By the time Livy had dried off and dressed and reached the first floor—from what she could tell, the place was four stories with marble staircases and lots of rooms and bathrooms—the arguing had already started. She could hear her Uncle Balt hissing at someone in Russian, “Out! We don’t want your kind here!”

Livy walked down the marble-floored hallway, stopping briefly when she spotted Melly leaning against the wall and furiously texting on her battered phone.

“What are you doing here?” Livy asked.

“I keep asking myself the same damn question.” Melly glanced up, smirked. “Heard you got your ass shot up pretty good. Hope it hurt.”

“Suck my—”

“I said out!” Uncle Bart barked from farther down the hall.

Deciding not to get into a fight with her idiot cousin, Livy continued on until she found everyone in what she guessed was the library, based on all the books.

Vic—poor, poor Vic—was trying to be the peacemaker, trying to soothe her uncle. But she could tell Bart wasn’t about to soothed.

“I cannot believe you brought bear here! After what happened to my poor little Olivia!”

Vic, trying so hard to be reasonable, argued, “But this is my father.”

And that was the problem. Vic’s father and mother weren’t exactly friends of the Kowalskis and Yangs. There were several of Livy’s relatives doing hard prison time all over the world because of the Barinovs. A smart couple that could sniff out illegal activity by just knowing the right people and spreading money around when necessary. They weren’t even law enforcement. They did what they did on the side and made very good money at it. Sometimes working for the wealthy who wanted their stolen items back, and sometimes working for worldwide law enforcement. And the Barinovs were often worse than law enforcement because they had fewer rules to worry about, but much more brawn.

Vic and his father were the same height and the same build, and if Vic aged as well as his father . . . that would be very, very nice.

“I don’t care he is your father. He is also bear.”

“You didn’t mind me bringing Shen,” Vic reasoned.

“The panda? He is like giant stuffed toy. Adorable and nonthreatening. But this one . . .” Balt sneered at Vic’s smiling grizzly father. “You put us all at risk.”

“Uncle Balt,” Livy said. “Let it go.”