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Their pride’s newly retired police officer, River, had managed to uncover exactly which anti-shifter extremist owned the compound that the Vercetti Pack had used to hide. Quinley wouldn’t be surprised if the wolverines paid said extremist a visit.
“I’d ask if you need to vomit those patties back up,” began Isaiah, “but that would be a silly question, wouldn’t it?”
“Of course.”
His lips twitched. “You having fun?”
Music started to blast, and then one of their pride members was singing on the karaoke completely out of tune.
“Well, I was.”
Isaiah guided her away from the speaker but, yeah, there was no sparing her the horror. His cat pricked his ears, backing away from the noise.
Their mate smiled, saying, “I love knowing my family will be here next year.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “And every year after that.”
When she’d earlier invited them to attend the party, they hadn’t turned it down for a bad reason. It was that they wanted to attend what they planned to be their last party on Crimson Pride territory. It would also serve as a goodbye-event for them.
They hadn’t mentioned it to Quinley until this morning but, now certain she wouldn’t be leaving the Olympus Pride, they’d enquired about a transfer. They wanted to live near their baby sister, and they liked how differently those without status were treated here.
Though Havana and Tate had told them they’d be welcome to join, Adaline and Raya had held off on telling Quinley, meaning for it to be a sort of “Happy New Year!” surprise. But Lori had accidentally spilled the beans. Quinley had let out a low squeal of delight on hearing the news.
Isaiah was happy for her, knowing how close she and her sisters were bonded. What had initially made the black-foots hesitate to transfer was that they’d no longer be permitted to work at Blue Harbor. But, as Isaiah had pointed out, there was no reason they couldn’t open their own version of such a beauty salon.
When Quinley mentioned the prospect to Havana a few hours ago, the devil shifter had confirmed that it would be doable. She and Tate had apparently already talked about it, anticipating Quinley would make such a request, and there was a vacant premise near the pride’s coffeehouse that could be turned into a salon.
Isaiah liked that idea, preferring that she wouldn’t have to travel far for work. It would give both him and his cat some peace of mind to know that she’d be surrounded by pride mates. The Vercetti Pack were no longer an issue, but the world of shifters was rarely without danger.
Since he no longer needed to act as her guard, Isaiah had gone back to acting as Tate’s bodyguard as well as an enforcer. Though it wasn’t as hard to be physically apart from her now, he still wasn’t a fan of it. He’d worried at first that his change in hours might upset her, but she’d made it clear that those worries were senseless. Quinley was completely fine with being left to her own devices.
Not that she was left alone. He often returned home to find that she had visitors. Sometimes it was Elle, sometimes it was the unholy trinity, sometimes it was his mother or even Valentina. People just liked to be around Quinley.
Brushing past a cluster of their pride mates, he heard Aspen whine, “Get a room.”
He looked to see Bailey pull back from making out with Deke, who she’d all but melted into.
“A room for what?” the mamba asked Aspen.
The bearcat’s lips thinned. “The rest of us would rather not see you sticking your tongue down Deke’s throat and feeling him up.”
“Then they need not watch,” snarked Bailey.
“I’m just asking that you have some sense of decorum.”
“Why? So that I’ll argue with you? Are you bored? Well, now you know how Camden feels every day.”
Deke closed his eyes, muttering something too low to be heard.
Before Aspen could advance on the mamba, Camden stepped between them and said, “We’re not going to do this here and now. It’s New Year’s Eve. The countdown will begin soon. I’d rather you weren’t starting the new year covered in cuts and bruises from an unnecessary fight,” he told Aspen.
Sighing, Deke took his mate’s arm. “Come on, trouble, we’re gonna go stand over there.”
“Why?” asked Bailey, sounding genuinely baffled as she allowed him to lead her away.
Quinley leaned into Isaiah as they kept walking, her mouth quirking. “Raya and Lori think Bailey is hilarious. I happen to agree.”
The main reason the two female black-foots adored the snake shifter was that she’d effortlessly picked the locks that held them captive—something they’d told Quinley and Isaiah all about when they visited earlier that day.
