Impressed with her work, Gwen nimbly leaped off her brother’s back and strolled toward the hallway.

She waited until she heard Mitch’s snarling rage only a few feet behind her before she grabbed the door and yanked it shut. The satisfying sound of Mitch running face-first into it would sit with her all day, and she couldn’t be happier.

The doorbell went off again and Lock glared at the clock next to his bed. Not even seven and someone dared to wake him up? Especially when he’d only gotten to bed a few short hours ago. Unacceptable.

Marching through his apartment, he snatched his front door open and ended up glaring at Ric, who grinned at him from behind five-hundred-dollar shades.

“Morning, Mr. Sunshine.” Ric held up a bakery bag. “I’ve brought treats to gently ease you into wakefulness.”

“Fuck off.” Lock slammed the door shut, engaged the industrial-strength security system he’d recently had installed, and went back to bed.

Thirty minutes later he smelled fresh coffee under his nose and bacon throughout his house. He opened his eyes and glared at the smiling face of Ulrich Van Holtz. “How did you get past my security system?”

“Security system?” The canine’s grin turned into a smirk, making Lock’s eye twitch. “Is that what they call it?”

“You’re annoying me.”

The smug canine eased the coffee under his nose again. “But doesn’t that smell delicious?” he crooned.

“And I’m also going to make you my perfect French toast. All you have to do is ease your way out of bed.

That’s it. Good boy.”

“Shut up.” Lock placed his feet on the floor and buried his face in his hands. After all these years, only Ric had discovered the perfect method to get Lock out of bed and reduce any early-morning maulings.

Lock reached out for the coffee, but Ric pulled it back. “Why don’t you come to the kitchen first?”

In response, Lock roared, the windows rattling behind Ric.

“Or I could just hand this over now.” Ric gave him the mug as Lock’s upstairs neighbor slammed a broomstick against the floor. So Lock roared again and the sound immediately stopped.

“As always…the perfect neighbor you are.”

Gripping the mug and baring a fang, Lock let out a small snarl. What his sister called the MacRyrie family’s “Early Warning System.”

Knowing that warning system as well as anyone, Ric headed toward the bedroom door. “I’ll just go and get that French toast started. And you’ll just ease your way out.”

By the time Lock had finished his coffee, taken a shower, and put on a pair of jeans, Ric had a full breakfast waiting for him.

Sitting down at the table, Lock looked over the platters of freshly made French toast, scrambled eggs,bacon, sausage, and rolls, as well as bear claws from the nearby bakery. There was also butter, honey—

European, from the scent of it—and warm maple syrup. Lock reached for the French toast first, but Ric slapped his hand away and placed a carefully prepared plate in front of him. As Lock waited, Ric went to the counter and returned with a small strainer. He tapped the side, covering the French toast with powdered sugar.

Somehow the wolf managed not to get any on Lock’s bacon or sausage.

“There. Isn’t that nice?”

“I have to say our relationship is getting stranger and stranger as we get older.”

“Why? Because I enjoy taking care of you?”

“Now you’re freaking me out.” But that didn’t stop Lock from digging into his food. As always, it was perfectly cooked, but he expected no less from any of the Van Holtzes. Many of them, including Ric, were known for their superior chef skills among the most elite food snobs. Each Van Holtz pup was taught from very early childhood to cook, with the plan that one day they would work in or manage one of the family restaurants spread across the States and Europe.

“I thought you were working today,” Lock said when he got to his third helping, and the coffee had finally done its work of making him a tolerable human being and bear.

“I was, but Adelle is covering for me. I wanted to do something before practice tonight and I’m hoping you’ll come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Staten Island.”

“What are we going over there for?”

“To talk to Sharyn McNelly of the McNelly Pack.”

“Why?”

“Because they were the ones who attacked your little feline and her canine friend.”

Lock looked up from his food. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. And I’ve gotten the approval of the imperious Board to handle it.” Ric had gotten the Board involved? Yikes.

“And that’s why we’re going over there?”

“Yes.”

Pushing a piece of bacon around his plate with his fork, Lock asked, “Why do you need me to go?”

“To kill them all.”

Lock’s gaze snapped to Ric’s and then they both burst out laughing.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Smiling, Ric filled up his own plate with food. “I know. I know.”

“Why do you really need me to go?”

“To watch my back, of course.” Ric shrugged and bit into a piece of bacon. “And, you know, just to be your usual wonderful and interesting self.”

Sharyn McNelly, Alpha of the McNelly Pack, cringed again as she heard bending metal snap like a toothpick.