belong. This was not her kind of place. An Irish cop bar. A biker bar. The local bowling alley. Those were her kinds of places. Here she felt…old. Her gun pressed into her back under her leather jacket. She was glad that the bouncer hadn’t checked her. She wouldn’t like to be here without her weapon.
Packed to capacity, the club had the rich and the connected mixing with the famous and the drug dealers. Vice would have a field day in this place.
She walked to the bar. “I’m looking for Gina Brutale.”
“Yup. In the back bar.”
She headed toward the back part of the club, pushing her way through a throng of barely dressed, overperfumed people. She’d almost made it to her destination when she caught sight of him. All gold and beautiful. Talking to a lean, dark-haired woman. Dez moved over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Mr. Shaw?”
He turned to her, and he was as beautiful as the picture of him in the Petrov file. Only now he seemed really annoyed. And not nearly as beautiful as Mace. She laughed to herself. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
“Do I know you?” It would be real nice if he directed that question to her and not her breasts.
She leaned into him. She couldn’t announce to the bar she was NYPD, but the man clearly had idiotic tendencies if he insisted on being out in the middle of the night after one of his business partners had so recently been blown away.
“Mr. Shaw, I think you’d be safer back at home, don’t you? At least until we get a handle on this Petrov situation.”
“Ah, you must be one of the detectives. Must be the one Missy threw out of the house.” Shaw leaned into her and sniffed her neck. He grinned. “How is Mace tonight, anyway?”
Dez pulled away from him. What? Did the entire Llewellyn family know she had gone out with Mace? And did they all go around sniffing each other? Oh whatever.
“Mr. Shaw, I really think you should go home. Now.”
Shaw leered at her and she raised her eyebrow, daring him to give her real attitude.
“I was leaving anyway, Detective.”
“Good. Thank you. Cause I’d really hate to have to watch Forensics catalog pieces of your brain—like we did with Petrov.”
Dez headed off to the back bar. As she came around the corner she caught sight of five women. At least, she was pretty sure they were women—they were a tad butch—sitting at the bar. They looked very similar, and Dez guessed a blood connection between all of them. It was the one nursing a straight scotch and staring sadly at the floor that had her complete interest, though.
The fourth kick to his ribs sent him flipping up and over. He landed on his hands and knees. Ready to shift, but holding back until he had absolutely no choice.
He saw one of Doogan’s brothers going for the weapon he had hidden under his silk jacket and long cashmere coat. Mace didn’t wait for him to get a good grip on it. He moved, catching the man’s arm and twisting it back until it snapped. The roar of pain he let out shook the block and made people run. Doogan moved toward him because Smitty had the other brother and was definitely seconds away from snapping his neck.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Mace pulled the man in his arms back so that his body practically resembled a U.
“Don’t make me break him in half—cause I can.”
Doogan stopped. He could see both of his siblings were seconds away from meeting a rather ugly death. Who would the cops believe? Three criminal hoods from the projects or Mace Llewellyn and his out-of-town Southern friend? Two decorated officers from the Navy.
No. Doogan wasn’t stupid. Mean and evil, but not stupid. He held his hands up and backed away from Mace. Once far enough away, Mace pushed the man in his arms toward Doogan, and Smitty did the same.
Doogan took them both and backed away down the street.
“Stay away from my sisters, Doogan. Or next time I’ll make sure this ends differently.”
Doogan didn’t answer, he just left.
Smitty resheathed his claws and wiped blood off his hands. “Well that was almost as much fun as the cops pretending to be hookers.”
Mace smiled and grimaced all at the same time. His face and chest hurt.
“Shouldn’t the cops be here by now?”
Smitty’s innocent statement made Mace laugh outright.
His friend grabbed his arm and pulled him under a street lamp. “Let’s see your face, hoss.” He winced. “Yup. They did some damage.”
“Thanks.” Mace went to touch his face, but Smitty held his hand back. “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t pointed it out to me, Smitty.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, hoss.”
“Sorry. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Dez had still been with us.”
“That’s easy. There would have been a lot of people dead. Between the two of ya. She got that look in her eye. She’s a predator, son. And don’t think for a second she ain’t.”
“Dez would be the least of their worries.”
“My, my. We are awfully protective of a woman we haven’t seen in years.”
“Don’t start, Smitty.”
He chuckled. “You know, you look real shitty, hoss.”
“Thank you very much.” Mace moved his jaw around. At least it wasn’t broken.
“So shitty you look like you need someone to take care of you.”
Mace blinked in confusion. “Why? I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Someone to take care of you, Mace. Tend your wounds. Comfort you in her very large, sweet bosom.”
Mace shook his head. “No. No way, Smitty.”
“Would you trust me?”
“That’s a shitty thing to do. It’s almost catlike in its evilness.”
“See, your problem is you underestimate dogs. There’s a reason many of us are let up on the couch, while they keep y’all in a zoo.”
“This is a stupid conversation.”
“We’re stupid men. Stupid men who like their women big chested and loud.”
“You think Dez is loud?”
“Nah. Sissy’s loud. Your woman does have quite the voice, though. Like someone took a sandblaster to her vocal cords.”
“I like her voice.”
“I know dirt roads in the poorest part of Tennessee
