Page 52 of Hunted

Vinnie’s eyes twinkled. “I took it out of Damien’s stash. Now he’ll have to come visit to replenish it.”

Mikey giggled. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

She put a hand on each of their arms. “Thank you so much. You’re good friends.”

Vinnie waved a hand negligently. “Any friend of Damien’s.”

Jenn added, “Come back and visit when things calm down. I’ll make you my special lasagna.” There were many cheek kisses all around, and then they were on their way.

Chapter 23

Gunn felt a little breathless by the time they were back in the Toyota they’d stolen at their last stop.

“Holy shit,” he said. “I feel like I’ve been attacked by a pile of Hello Kitty pillows. Cute and soft and comforting, and a tiny bit suffocating.”

Mikey giggled. “Aren’t they sweet? Damien hooked me up with them last time I was working Chicago. Vinnie used to be low-level Mafia, but he’s mostly retired.”

“Yes, and who exactly is this Damien person?” Gunn asked. “And don’t you have any female friends?”

“Don’t be jellys, wolfy.” She patted his shoulder, looking a tiny bit smug. Dammit, she liked knowing he was jealous. He had to stop this shit.

She should not like other men, his wolf said. We will tear their throats out.

Gunn couldn’t help but agree, privately at least.

Mikey took pity on him. “Damien is a happily mated lion shifter. It’s his mate’s former apartment we’re going to be staying in. They’re Wild Blood crew now, down in Kentucky, but they kept the lease.”

Wild Blood crew. Gunn turned that over in his mind. “Why does that sound familiar?” he asked.

Mikey shrugged casually—too casually. “The alpha, Brandon Fierro, used to be an operative. Not Enforcers. The Agency.” That was kind of like the shifter CIA. She went on, “Maybe you ran into him at some point? He’s out of the game now, though. Private detective.”

Suddenly the name clicked in a ‘holy shit’ moment—but not because he’d met the guy. “Brandon Fierro? As in Xander Fierro? Bad Blood crew?”

Mikey scrunched up her face, like she’d been hoping he wouldn’t make the connection. “Um, yeah? Xander’s oldest son. My pack has pretty close ties with the Bad Bloods. All the kids in my generation grew up together.”

“You used to hang out with the Bad Blood crew.”

She shrugged. “You know what it’s like, when your parents are friends.”

No. No, he didn’t know what it was like. His dad had been killed when he was a tiny cub, during the commission of a robbery, and his mom had worked two jobs to keep from having to join a pack and be claimed by the strongest wolf who was interested in her. She’d died young too.

And the Bad Blood crew weren’t just anybody. They were talked about in whispers through most of the shifter world. The craziest, most badass crew—the people you most did not want to piss off. He’d never met anyone who actually knew them. Or wanted to, for that matter.

“Wait,” he said, still piecing together things he’d heard and vaguely remembered. “Remy—that’s not Remington McCall, is it?” Remington and his twin brother Colt were named after guns because their father had been an expert sniper in the Shifter Special Forces. Also Bad Blood crew.

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Are you telling me the McCall twins taught you to boost cars?”

She gave him a scornful glance. “Of course not. I taught them.”

Unfortunately, Gunn couldn’t get Mikey to talk about her past any more right then. She made herself very busy with the GPS, getting a map to the apartment and directing him through the city streets.

It was an ordinary, nondescript apartment in an ordinary, nondescript building in an ordinary, nondescript neighborhood.

Mikey was right. It was perfect.

The apartment was on the second floor of three, with an easy emergency escape route over the balcony into the walled, shrubbery-filled yard below. One bedroom, one bath, living room and tiny kitchen.