Page 123 of Ruthless Creatures

Still laughing, she pulls away. “I know. It’s terrible without mearound. But I’m sure you must’ve been keeping yourself busy with your stud.” She glances behind me, looking into the house through the open door.

My face falls. “He left this morning.”

She says drily, “Not without marking his territory first, I see.”

Reaching up to touch the tender spot on my neck she’s looking at, I blush. “He, um, sometimes gets a little carried away.”

She beams at me. “Of course he does. You’re delish. Now crack open the wine, because we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Great minds think alike. I’ve already got the bottle open.”

We go inside. When we get to the kitchen, I grab another glass and the bottle from the counter, and we sit at the table. Mojo wanders in from the living room and throws himself at Sloane’s feet. Within seconds, he’s snoring.

Smiling down at him, she gently nudges him with her boot. “Still a ball of fire, I see.”

Pouring her wine, I chuckle. “I’ve been screaming to wake the dead for over a week straight, and it hasn’t budged him. You’d think he was brought up in a haunted house. No matter how much groaning and wall shaking goes on, this dog sleeps like a baby.”

Sloane lifts her glass to me. “Here’s to getting stuffed with premium sausage.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic.”

We smile at each other and drink.

When we set our glasses down, Sloane says, “So. You’re in love.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’ve got cancer. And how do you know, anyway?”

“It’s written all over your face, Juliet. Mafia Romeo has sexed you on every horizontal surface in the house, and now you’re glowing with happiness.”

My face flushes with pleasure, remembering exactly how well I’ve been “sexed.” And not only on the horizontal surfaces.

“What about you? Are you in love with Stavros?”

She almost spits her mouthful of wine out through her nostrils. “Girl, seriously? Who do you think you’re talking to here? I was bored out of my mind after three days at sea with him. I’ve never met a man who worries so much. It was like living with my grandmother. Pacing and hand-wringing are his two favorite things. Thank god they had to go back to New York for the meeting, or I’d have jumped overboard.”

My heart skips a beat. “New York? Meeting?”

She’s surprised. “Kage didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t, either.”

“How do you know, then?”

“One of my ninja skills is eavesdropping. Plus, after a few days, Stavros’s crew forgot I was around. Or they assumed I was okay because I was with him. Either way, I got to overhear a lot of stuff I probably shouldn’t have.”

My heart starts to pound. I lean closer to her, gripping my wine glass so hard I’m sure it will shatter. “Like what?”

“Like… there’s a war brewing.”

My stomach drops. “Oh god. War’s not good.”

“No, it’s definitely not. Apparently, there was a big meeting of the heads of all the families in Boston recently, and it didn’t end well. The Irish were pissed about what happened to their guys at La Cantina—”

“Back up. TheIrishwere there? This meeting wasn’t only with different families in the Russian mafia?”

“Apparently, all the families were there. The Armenians, the Italians, the Mexicans, the Chinese, the Irish.” She shrugs. “Everybody.”