Dylan sat at the table, tipping his chair back on two legs while he watched a sports report on a television that had to be twenty years old. Connor sat next to him, flipping through a car magazine. The air was somewhat tense, as though words had been cut off when they’d heard her coming.

Something else wasn’t right about this domestic picture, apart from tall, muscular men working in the kitchen to fix her breakfast. Kim realized that Connor didn’t have his nose in the Internet or a video game or a cell phone. Nor did he have an iPod glued to his ears.

Were those more technologies forbidden to Shifters? Or could the Morrisseys simply not afford them? She knew that Liam had a job, which he seemed to take casually. What about Sean and Dylan? Did they work? They seemed in no hurry to rush to an office. Abel was always out of bed as soon as the alarm went off, through the shower and into his suit and tie in fifteen minutes. “Come on, honey, we’re going to be late.” No time for pancakes, coffee, or a chat, never mind a morning cuddle.

Liam took a plate from the stack next to him and flipped pancakes onto it. “These are done. You’re supposed to have the table ready, Connor.” Liam smiled at Kim, but something in him seemed subdued, the sparkle that had been in his eyes earlier that morning gone. What was going on?

Connor hauled his tall form out of the chair and shuffled to the kitchen. When his body filled out, he’d be as muscular as his two uncles and Dylan. He looked unfinished right now, like a young horse, all arms and legs. But he was handsome enough, probably already drove girls crazy.

“I’ll help,” Kim offered. She took the bottles of syrup Connor had snatched out of the cupboard and carried them to the table.

Dylan rose. “Sit down, Kim. You’re a guest.”

Kim opened her mouth to say, No, guests are allowed to leave, but she shut it again. There was plenty of time to argue, and besides, the pancakes smelled terrific.

In any case, she had no intention of arguing with them. She’d simply get into her car and leave.

The pancakes tasted as good as they smelled, tangy, sweet, and laced with cinnamon. Damn Liam for being so gorgeous and skilled at cooking too.

“Did you sleep well, Kim?” Connor asked her around a mouthful.

Kim had fallen into a heavy sleep and dreamed about two things—being attacked by feral Shifters and kissing Liam. Both experiences had been intense.

“Sort of.”

“Liam didn’t,” Connor said. “He thrashed all night. The springs on my extra bed squeak something awful. Drove me mad.”

“I wasn’t used to the bed,” Liam said, sitting down next to Kim with his pancakes.

For a man who’d slept restlessly, especially after claiming to be in excruciating pain, Liam looked damn good. His face was freshly shaved, his hair still damp from his shower. She smelled soap and shaving cream on him, which sent her imagination into the shower with him, his body dripping wet and soapy.

Dylan, on the other hand, looked extremely pissed about something. He glowered as he ate, hunkering over his plate. Sean went through his pancakes quickly, without speaking, and returned to the kitchen for more dish scrubbing.

“Do you always make Sean do the dishes?” Kim asked. “Seems unfair.”

“We take it in turns,” Liam answered. “It’s Sean’s day to do the washing up.”

“Mine tomorrow,” Connor said glumly. “I swear I’m taking a mate as soon as I’m of age, so I don’t have to do it anymore.”

Kim ate her last mouthful of pancakes and wished for more. Screw eating light; these were good. “That’s going to be your offer, Connor? ‘Marry me so you can clean up after me, my two uncles, and my grandfather’? I’m sure every woman would jump at that.”

At the sink, Sean laughed. Liam smiled, but distractedly. Connor frowned as if she’d given him something new to think about, but even his enthusiasm was dampened.

The four Morrisseys were certainly wound up this morning. The worst tension was between Liam and Dylan—and Kim gave herself three guesses what they’d been fighting about.

Kim set down her fork. “Let’s keep this simple. I’m going to go upstairs, get my stuff, and leave. I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on with Brian’s case—keep you in the loop. I promise. And I won’t reveal anything I learned about feral Shifters, Collars, or your werewolf neighbor in glittery shoes.”

Dylan looked up from his meal, his eyes dark but tinged with red. Despite his handsomeness, he was damn scary, and Kim again realized why humans sought out Liam instead of his father.

Liam shot Dylan an angry glance, but when Liam spoke to Kim his voice was gentle. “You need to stay a little longer, love. A few more days at least.”

“No.” Kim wiped her mouth and put down her napkin. “I have a job and a life. Tomorrow is Monday and I have to be at my office, where I work to earn my living. Remember Brian and his case? You do want me to get him free, right?”

“You’ll go to your office,” Liam said. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, right. A Shifter walking the halls at Lowell, Grant, and Steinhurst. I don’t think so.”

“It’s that or you don’t go at all.”

Kim shoved back her chair and stood up. “Listen, Liam, I didn’t ask to be dragged into your problems. I didn’t ask for that—thing—to attack me. I’m real sorry I found out about the Collars, but all I want to do is get Brian released and back home to his mother. You don’t seem to remember that I’m on your side.”