“From what I gathered, it’s either a cucumber or a half-wit.” Curran shook his head. “Then the Volkodavi started yelling. The Belve yelled back. Radomil woke up and someone clued him in that he had been insulted but apparently not who’d done it, because Radomil went after Gerardo and called him parazeet and viridok.”

“Parasite and bastard,” I translated. Voron was Russian. I spoke it well enough, better now that I had someone in Atlanta to practice with, and I’d hung out enough with Ukrainians to pick up the language. Curses were the second thing you learned, right behind yes, no, help, stop, and where is the bathroom?

“Ahh.” Curran nodded. “That explains why Gerardo’s mother went furry.”

“So what happened?”

“Then I roared. Then everyone got insulted and declared that they wouldn’t stand for this and the meeting was over. Good too, because I’ve had it with them. I wouldn’t give these kids to either one of the packs. They don’t give a shit about them or Desandra. As they were leaving, I could hear them yelling at each other. After Gerardo called Radomil every curse under the sun, Radomil’s brother told him that smart men keep bitches in heat on a chain.”

I developed a sudden strong urge to punch both of them in the face.

“He is lucky that he said that to Gerardo. If he’d said it to me about you, that would’ve been it. He would never say anything else.”

Curran fell silent. I turned. Desandra stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Color drained from her face. “Vitaliy said that?”

Curran looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Yes.”

“What did Gerardo do?”

“He called him some name I didn’t catch.”

“But did he do anything?”

“No,” Curran said.

“I see,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I’ll be going to dinner today. My bitch chain isn’t long enough.”

“Desandra . . .” Curran said.

She raised her hand. “Don’t.” Her voice shook. She was about to snap.

I needed to talk to Curran. But Desandra was about to lose it. Abandon her or straighten this out? It would be a long conversation . . .

Desandra made a small strangled noise in her throat. Damn it. He was tired, we were both starving, and privacy was in short supply. I’d waited this long; I could wait until we were alone. I turned to Curran. “Why don’t you go without me? Make an appearance, snarl, and all that. I’ll be here.”

Curran looked at Desandra for a long moment. “I’ll be back.”

“Bring us some food,” I told him. “And I really need to talk to you when you come back.”

“Okay.” He kissed me and left the room.

Derek came inside and shut the door behind him.

Desandra sank on the bed, put her hands over her face, and began to cry.

* * *

Desandra wept.