“Looks to be eight Slayers and two pups in training.”

Maman arched one blond brow. Though she was approaching eight hundred years old, she appeared to be no older than a forty-year-old human. Dressed in a fitted blue business suit and with her blond hair pulled back in a tight chignon, she looked prim and proper-unlike Aimee, who was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans and wore her long hair down. “Slayers or Strati?”

Strati were Katagaria warriors who were the fiercest of the bunch and usually quick to anger. The pups, due to hormonal shifts that were even worse on Were-kind than humans, were even more so. But they usually lacked the power and strength to back their egos. Slayers, on the other hand, were indiscriminate killers who slew any and everything that got in their way. Arcadians applied the latter to any Katagari soldier as a justification for why they needed killing.

If this group of wolves really were Slayers, their presence in the bar was like a keg of dynamite resting on an open hearth with a raging fire.

Dev scratched at the back of his neck. “They’re technically Strati, but these are hard-core cases. Wouldn’t take much to make them Slayers.”

Aimee stood up. “I’ll go wait on them.”

Dev blocked her exit. “Cherise already got their orders.”

She was aghast at his recklessness. “You trusted a human to wait on them?” Was he out of his mind?

Dev seemed unperturbed by his own stupidity. “Cherise is too even-tempered and sweet. I doubt even a true Slayer could be mean to her. Besides, I know how you feel about wolves and thought I’d spare you having to deal with them. We don’t need any more drama here for a while.”

It was true. Her encounters with wolves had never gone well. She couldn’t explain it, but she shared her mother’s distaste of their kind. Wolves were violent and filthy. Arrogant to the extreme.

Most of all, they stank to her “bear” sensitivity.

Nicolette stood up. “Aimee, go and keep an eye on them. Make sure they don’t cause any trouble while they’re here. I don’t want another spectacle. If they so much as sniff in the wrong direction, throw them out.”

She inclined her head to her mother.

Dev shifted to one side to let her pass. “If you need a hand, I’ll be there with backup faster than you can say ‘wolf stain.’”

Aimee had to stop herself from sighing in aggravation at her overprotective brother. He meant well. But there were times when she felt completely stifled by her family.

Even so, she loved them… warts and all.

Patting him on the arm, she walked down the hallway to the kitchen where humans unknowingly mixed with a Were-Hunter staff. They thought this was a normal bar and restaurant. If only they knew the truth…

She grabbed her apron and tied it at the waist before she reached for her tray.

“Where have you been?”

She paused at her brother Remi’s bark. Identical in looks to Dev, no surprise since they were two of the identical quads Maman had birthed, he’d inherited all the surly anger of his other three brothers combined.

Plus he barely tolerated her.

“With Maman, ordering food and alcohol. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Remi skirted a stainless-steel industrial table to encroach on her personal space in a way that made her want to knee him hard in his “man” pride. “Yeah, well, there’s a bunch of wolves-”

“Dev already told me.”

“Then get your butt out there and watch them.”

She raked him with a sneer. “Nice attitude, Rem. Really, you should see about suing whatever asshole sold it to you.”

He lunged at her.

Aimee caught him with her tray and shoved him back. “Don’t, brother. I’m not in the mood.”

He shoved her back.

“Remi!”

He froze as their father came into the kitchen. Over seven feet tall and well muscled, Papa Bear was a frightening sight, even to the children who knew he would never harm them. His long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail that matched Remi’s. In fact, he looked as much like Remi as Dev did and unless someone knew better, Papa could pass as an older brother.

“Leave your sister alone. Now go wash dishes until you cool down.”

Remi glared at him. “She provoked me.”

Papa sighed. “Everyone provokes you, mon fils. Now go and do as I say.”

Aimee offered her father a reconciliatory smile. “It’s just a mild disagreement, Papa. Remi has this whole need to breathe in and out, which annoys me. If he would just stop breathing, I’d be fine.”

Her father gave her a chiding stare. “Never say such to me, chere. I’ve already buried enough sons and you brothers. Now apologize to Remi.”

Completely contrite, Aimee went over to her brother. Her father was right, she didn’t want anything to happen to anyone else in her family. Even as surly as Remi was, she still loved him more than anything and would protect him with her life. “I’m sorry.”

“You ought to be.”

Aimee growled at his hostile personality. Why did he have to pick a fight with everyone?

She glared at her father. “You know, it’s a shame Katagaria bears don’t eat their young, especially the annoying ones.”

Wanting to put distance between them, she headed out the door, into the bar area where the human waitress, Cherise Gautier, was filling drinks. Petite and blond, Cherise had the kindest disposition of any being Aimee had met in her three hundred years of living. Creatures like her were rare and Aimee wished she could be more like her.

Unfortunately, she had too much of Remi in her for that-another reason she couldn’t stand her brother most days. They were two peas in a pod that together made an unsightly mush.

“Hey, Aimee,” Cherise said with a bright smile that cheered her instantly. “You okay, baby? You’re looking a little flushed.”

“I’m fine.”

Cherise gave her a gimlet stare as she covered her hand and gave a supportive squeeze. “You fight with your brother again, boo?”

There were times when she could swear that human had preternatural powers. “Don’t we always?”

Unperturbed, Cherise returned to setting glasses on her tray. “Well, that’s what family’s for. But you know what I do. Anyone threaten you, Remi would have their posterior for dinner and you would do the same for him. That boy love you more than his life. Never forget that.” Cherise started to pick up the tray.

“I got it.” Aimee cut in front of her.

Cherise frowned. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides, it’s time for your break.”

Her expression skeptical, Cherise stepped back. “All right then. I’ll be just a shout away if we get busy suddenly. Those are for table thirty.”

Aimee hefted the tray up and cursed at how heavy eight beers with iced mugs and two Cokes could be. It was a good thing she’d taken it from the human. As tiny and frail as Cherise was, she’d have had a hard time carrying it. But true to form, the human would never utter a single word of complaint. Cherise had never once bitched about anything or anyone.

Aimee carefully made her way from the bar area to the tables in front where the dogs had taken refuge. As she came around the corner, she let out an aggravated breath.

Sure enough, they looked like the dregs of the animal kingdom. Scruffy, leather-wearing brutes. She just hoped the younger two didn’t try to hump the furniture or some human’s leg.

Though as she drew closer, she couldn’t help noticing that the one with the longer hair was extremely good-looking. His dark hair was made up of a myriad of colors. Red, mahogany, brown, black, even some blond. It was as striking as his dark eyes.

The only other one of them really noteworthy was the one wearing a black biker jacket, who leaned back in his chair with his incredibly long legs stretched out in front of him. His black T-shirt was pulled tight over a stomach that was rock-hard and flat. With short dark hair and an evident nasty attitude, he was hard to miss. His rugged features were covered with several days’ growth of beard and his eyes were completely concealed behind a pair of opaque sunglasses.