The door to the conference room opened and Jim strode in, like an impending storm. Six feet tall, with dark, smooth skin and a gaze that made you want to back away and look for the nearest exit, Jim served as the Pack’s chief of security. He and I knew each other from way back, when we both worked for the Mercenary Guild and we occasionally teamed up. I had needed the money and Jim couldn’t stomach working with anyone else.

Jim leaned on the table. “I’m going.”

“No,” Curran said. “I need you here. You have to run the Pack while we’re gone.”

“Make Mahon do it.”

Mahon Delany, an alpha of Clan Heavy, served as the Pack’s executioner. He’d raised Curran after Curran’s family was murdered, and he was probably the most respected among the fourteen alphas of the Pack. He was not universally loved, however.

“The jackals would riot and you know it,” Curran said. “You can hold the clans together. Mahon can’t. He’s old-fashioned and ham-fisted, and if I put him in charge, we’d come back to a civil war.”

“And who’s going to watch your ass while you’re over there? It’s not just about what they are doing, it’s thinking about what they could do and how they could do it. Who’ll do that for you?”

“Not you,” Curran said. “I need you here.”

Jim turned to me. “Kate?”

If he thought I was getting in the middle of that, he was crazy. “Oh, look at all this paperwork I have. Can’t talk now, very busy.”

Jim landed in the chair, looking like he wanted to strangle someone.

Barabas put another piece of paper in front of me. Oy.

“You should let Kate handle it,” Jim said. “You’ve never done a large-scale bodyguard detail. She has more experience and she’s decent at it.”

I pointed a piece of bacon at him. “I’m not just decent. I’m damn good and you know it.”

“We’ve talked it over,” Curran said. “She guards Desandra, I snarl and run interference with the packs, and when she tells me to push, I push. We’ve got this, Jim.”

“Or at least they think they do.” Barabas took the paper I’d just signed and blew on the ink.

“Take Barabas,” Jim said suddenly. “If you won’t take me, take Barabas. He’s devious, paranoid, and obsessive. He’ll be perfect.”

Curran looked at me. I looked at Barabas. He bared even, sharp teeth. “Well, after that recommendation, how can I say no?”

“Who do you want for support?” I asked.

“George,” Barabas said.

George’s real name was Georgetta and she threatened to murder people who dared to actually use it. She was Mahon’s daughter, and she served as the Pack’s clerk of court.