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size of boulders. “I need coffee.” She needed space. Turning away, she headed toward the kitchen. “Just find a room and throw your stuff in there.”
    Thankfully, they didn’t follow her, and she had the kitchen to herself for the moment. She didn’t know where the others were and was grateful for the time alone. Dumping those two and moving on was becoming a lot more complicated than she had anticipated.
    She grabbed three donuts, hungry for the calories, and devoured them in less than a minute. Shifters needed nearly double the calories in a day to be able to keep dominance over their animal form. If she didn’t eat, her body looked elsewhere for the energy, ready to cannibalize whatever or whoever was near. She grabbed a fourth when the door whooshed open.
    London walked into the room, dropped the morning paper on the table, and prowled around without a sound. She would’ve said he lumbered like his animal counterpart, but he was more graceful than any bear she’d ever seen. Everything about him was blunt, from his short, cropped black hair to his attitude to the scent of leaves that always seemed to cling to him. There was an underlying violence in him waiting to erupt. She suspected he was a hybrid, but had never asked. Crossbreeds were a sore subject with him.
    London and her had an unsteady truce. She kept her distance, and he pretended she didn’t exist. Communication between them was kept to any mention of security for the team. The arrangement worked.
    She poured her first cup of coffee, took a sip when he spoke. “They’ll cause problems.”
    And promptly burnt her tongue. When she found his dark eyes pinned to hers, she bit back the curse that rose to her lips. “I know.”
    He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll beef up security.” He slapped an inch thick piece of ham between two slices of bread and was gone.
    “Making friends with the big boy?” Trish sauntered in the room, her robe barley covering the small negligee she sported, her waist-length, long black hair swishing at her back like a tail. She poured herself a cup of coffee and rested her hip causally against the counter. Stiffness lined the other woman’s movements, revealing how uncomfortable she was being alone with Raven.
    Mockery darkened Trish’s eyes, animosity pouring off the sleek little panther, but Raven refrained from saying anything. No fighting. Rule one of the house. Though Trish couldn’t have known the outcome, Raven suspected the woman had set up last night’s debacle. She just couldn’t figure out why. As far as she knew, she’d never insulted the panther.
    She was saved from actually asking the question when the boy and his protector entered.
    “And who do we have here?” The honey purr of Trish’s voice froze the kid mid-step. Only his eyes moved as he located the source of the threat.
    His heartbeat pounded at the base of his neck, his anxiety climbed. And in all that, he didn’t so much as twitch. Raven glanced between the boy and Trish, wondering if they knew each other, feeling oddly jealous and very protective of him.
    “They’re off limits.”
    An unbecoming flush filled Trish’s face, and she laughed nastily. “Of course they are. Your wish is our command.” With those bitter words, she disappeared out the door, but not without brushing close enough to the boy that their clothes touched. His nostrils flared at the ripe scent of Trish’s desire and the flood of cloying perfume she left in her wake.
    Instead of pleasure, the boy shuddered, his shoulders hunched, almost curling into himself.
    “Keep the cat away from him.” Jackson issued the order, violence dancing in his eyes. For some odd reason, she had the impression he held himself back from attacking Trish for Raven’s benefit.
    Raven nodded carefully, promising herself to talk to Jackson later and find out if there was going to be a problem. She could ask the woman to leave, they were only to stay for the rest of the week, but those