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relationships with the folks around here, but it’s been a slow process. You’re very insular.”
    “Talk about the big, fat charcoaled pot calling the kettle black.”
    An unworried shrug, no smile. “Didn’t say we didn’t understand.”
    “People like DarkRiver cats,” she said, wondering why that damn arrogance was sexy on him. “You’ve cleaned things up so the shopkeepers feel safe.”
    “We’re starting to get friendlier smiles,” he told her, “but that’s all going to be fucked to hell if Vincent and his gang of thugs start shooting holes in defenseless people.”
    “I have a feeling they don’t know what they’re up against.”
    A hard glance. “You got that right, mink.”
    She opened her mouth to respond but they’d arrived at her family home and Amber was waiting in the doorway, cell phone in hand. “She’s home!” her sister-in-law said into the slim white device as soon as she spotted Ria. “No, she’s safe. Emmett’s with her.”
    All but lifting Ria inside, Emmett ordered Amber to shut the door. “And stay inside.” He was gone before Ria could say anything else.
    Blowing out a breath, she took the phone Amber was holding out. “Mom, I’m fine.” She repeated that for the next ten minutes, until Alex finally calmed down. By that time, her grandmother had prepared tea, brought out two giant hunks of Mr. Wong’s famous Divine Madeira Cake, and begun to make her special sweet black-sesame soup, one of Ria’s favorites.
    “Sit!” she said when Amber began to stand up as if to help.
    Amber sat with a thankful groan. “The baby’s kicking so hard. Want to feel?”
    “Yes!” Ria scooted over. Amber was a great sister-in-law, but she was also intensely private. This kind of an invitation didn’t come often. Placing her hand on Amber’s abdomen, she stayed very still. Miaoling’s future great-grand(gender unknown) didn’t keep Ria waiting. She felt two very distinct thuds. “Wow, I think I felt the shape of a foot.”
    Amber laughed. “Probably. Baby Wembley has a future as a football player. Fitting really, given the family name.”
    “Don’t tell Jet,” Ria teased, biting into her cake. The familiar taste was as welcome as a hug, soft and comforting. “He’s hoping for a golf buddy.”
    “What about you, Ria?” Breaking off a piece of her own slice, Amber brought it to her mouth. “You thinking of popping out any golf buddies sometime soon?”
    “Amber!” Ria fell back, laughing. “Where do you think I’m going to get the other half of the equation now that the Great Match is done for?”
    “Oh, I don’t know.” Amber’s eyes turned sly. “But I know a cat who looks at you like he wants to eat you up, then come back for seconds.”
    Ria was still gasping at the scandalous comment from her—usually—shy sister-in-law, when Miaoling began laughing. Slapping her thigh, she laughed so hard that Ria could do nothing but join in. “You heard”—she sobbed between bursts that left her stomach aching—“what Jet said. They don’t get serious with humans.”
    “Who says?” Amber’s eyes were shiny with humor. “Just because we don’t know about any.”
    That cut off Ria’s laughter. She sat back. Thought about it. Shook her head. “We’d have heard. I’d have heard at the college.”
    “Not necessarily,” Amber argued. “They don’t exactly advertise things. I’d say I’d never met a more closemouthed lot, but . . .” She waved a hand.
    Ria blew out a breath. “I can’t ask him. You know that.”
    “Why?” Miaoling asked.
    “Because then he’d think I was hinting at something!”
    Her grandmother gave her a gimlet-eyed glance. “If you don’t hint, how’s he going to know?”
    Ria’s mind flooded with the memories of her pressed up against that gym door, his hand stroking over her, his tongue in her mouth. “He knows.”
    “Yes,” Amber said. “Changelings have a better sense of smell than humans. He can probably scent your