“I was having relationship issues,” I told him.

Derek grinned. He used to work with Jim before joining Cutting Edge. At nineteen, he had been almost arrestingly handsome, but then some monsters poured molten metal on his face. We had killed the fuckers, but Derek’s face never healed quite right. He wasn’t disfigured, but he was scarred, and he looked like the type of man you would not want to meet in a dark alley. I’ve seen him walk into a bar and stop the chatter with his face alone.

Jim, Derek, Barabas, and two combat boudas, not counting the other guys. Either they expected me to put up a hell of a fight, or something heavy was about to happen.

“Can we come in?” Jim asked.

And see Raphael’s handiwork? Unfortunately, telling the Pack’s chief of security to shove off would have been extremely unwise, not to mention counterproductive to my investigation. Great. The shapeshifters gossiped worse than bored church ladies. Before tonight the whole Pack would know about Raphael’s stunt. “Of course.”

I watched them file into my apartment. The two boudas nodded at me in passing. This was interesting.

The eight shapeshifters spread through my living room and kitchen and suddenly my apartment seemed too small.

“I thought Raphael had moved out,” Barabas said.

Remain calm. “Actually, we never lived together in my place. I lived at his,” I said. I would not bite Barabas. It wouldn’t be right.

“He was back here last night while she was out,” Jim said. “Him, and a large moving truck.”

“Oh.” Barabas thought about it. His eyes lit up. “Oh!”

Slapping my lawyer was not in my best interests either. I turned to Jim. “You put a detail on my apartment?”

“The second you became a target,” he said.

Well, that just took the cake. I tilted my head. “So good of you to let me know, cat. I’d hate to mistake my babysitter for a threat and accidentally shoot him.”

Jim blinked. Ha! I had managed to surprise the spy master.

“So these are new furnishings?” Barabas said, his face pure innocence.

“Don’t tempt me, Barabas.”

The two bouda women made big eyes at the portrait of Aunt B on my shelf.

“Lovely decorations,” Sandra offered and bit her lip, obviously straining not to laugh.

“Yes, the way the light here plays on Aunt B’s face is very nice,” Lucrezia added.

“Fuck you, Lucrezia,” I told her.

Sandra groaned and the laughter burst out of her mouth. She doubled over. Lucrezia dissolved into giggles.

By tonight, not just the Pack, but the shapeshifters in Canada would know what Raphael had done to my apartment. I would murder him.

I crossed my arms on my chest and turned to Jim. “Is there a reason for all of you coming here?”

“Yes,” Jim said. “Why do you have your computer on the kitchen table?”

“This is a long conversation.”