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Kennedy…
Wrapped in a fluffy robe and slippers that were not her own, Kennedy twisted her hair up into a towel. She daintily stepped down the stairs, heading toward Terry, who stood at the bottom, barely contained. David followed her, so close that she could sense the heat of his body.
Terry growled in bear, a word that might mean, “Finally!” She could smell something delicious, and almost a dozen threads of werewolf scent. How many children were here? How was it possible? Terry stepped to the side when she reached the landing. His anger and grumpiness lazered toward David. She reached out and gently touched Terry’s broad chest as she passed the Vet, “I’m okay Terry. David did what I needed him to do. The baby flipped me in the tub.”
The big man gripped her and spun her toward him. The concern in his face made her pause, even though the food was a seductive draw. Her stomach grumbled loudly. “The baby is fine. I am fine.” He dropped to his knees and in front of three strangers, who were peeking at them from down the hall, he placed his hands on her belly. Kennedy stroked her fingers through his hair. “They’re fine.” A flutter moved across her belly under his hand. “See. Our little werehamster is fine.”
David chuckled behind her. Terry tightened his lips, trying not to smile with relief. She bent and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Unless you have pockets full of sandwiches, you need to let me pass so I can get some food.” Terry sat back on his heals and released her. His fingertips brushed her calf as she passed. Her nose was pulling her along. “Is that Chinese takeout?”
“You know that makes her burp, Doc. What were you thinking?” David offered his hand, and Terry took it. The two deliciously handsome men trailed her toward the dining room. Expecting children, not adults, the crowded room made her stop dead still in her slippered feet. Six grown wolves crowded the table, eating voraciously. Kennedy caught a glimpse of the homeowner and her two children in the kitchen beyond. A brush of fingers against her hand made Kennedy jump sideways. In the chair closest to her right was the very Wolf she had found on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, smelling of Kung Pao chicken. The sight of him upright and eating sent her backward until she was pressed to the wall. “How?”
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“We heal fast.” Said another across the table.
“Or we die.” Said the wolf with almond eyes and mahogany skin. He gestured with an egg roll.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the man whose chest she had seen splayed open. He’d been close enough to death that she had been certain she would fail. Kennedy would have sunk to the floor, but her men settled their hands onto her and drew her between them. The shelter of their bodies kept her standing.
The healed wolf said, “Thank you.” His voice was faint, a croak. He lifted the t-shirt he was wearing, and she saw the reddened flesh across his chest, new from healing, scars still tight. A bandage over the last lingering seam was stark white, except for the faintest pink blotch.
“How?”
“That is amazing.” David said.
Others nodded. Egg roll guy said, “I haven’t seen anyone that good at weaving change since. What was that guy’s name out west?”
The bald one gestured to his forehead. “With the white streak.”
“I remember him from the gathering out in Colorado. I was just a kid, but my parents took me. Both of my dads had to work together to convince my mom to go on that trip.” He plunked his egg roll into duck sauce.
A tawny haired woman in a leather jacket leaned forward. “Did you really have your whole arm in his chest?”
“No, just my forearm.” Kennedy touched her fingers to where she thought the depth had been. The youngest of them whistled. There was a wildness to them, and a camaraderie.
“You don’t look like tech people.” Kennedy gaped.
Laughter scattered around the table. “Wrong classification.”
One made a prancy gesture. “They don’t like to get dirty.”
“What are you then?” Kennedy asked.
“The mud boys.”
“We take out the dead and erase any evidence left behind by this kind of trouble.”
After the bald man scraped the flesh off of a barbecue chicken wing, he added, “We came for his body.” He gestured with the bone toward the man she had helped. “But this one is breathing.” He shrugged. “So we eat.”
“Are you hungry?” A tiny woman with coal-black eyes offered her a plate.
Pressed tight against her men, Kennedy accepted their generosity.