“How do you get rational, well-respected people involved in your insanity? I mean is it something you taught yourself to do or is it part of your sociopathic nature?”

“All right. Talk to me darlin'. You're not insane. A little crazy, but not insane. And this...everything you've gotten...in the last few days...do you know how many people would kill for this?""But...”

“Look, I’ve got her, I’m carrying her, and I’m taking her to the hospital. So you can back off and let me do what I’m going to do, or you can get your ass kicked and I’m still going to do what I’m going to do. Your choice.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”Smitty glanced away from the computer screen he’d been staring at for the last three hours, looked at his sister, and shook his head. “No.”“What do ya mean no?”“You asked. Sorry if you didn’t like the answer. I always thought you were funny lookin’. Asked momma, ‘What is that thing laying in your bed?’ And she said, ‘I found it hiding under a car, you be nice to it now.”

“If you’re worried arresting my sister will come between us — really, that’s not a problem. I’m pretty sure it will bind us tighter together. Besides, we made plans…involving Missy’s desk.”“You know I was only torturing your sister.”“So you were just using me?” He actually sounded wounded. “Like a whore?”“Mace…” She stopped and rubbed her eyes. Of all the places he could be doing this, her precinct should not be one of them.“You’re doing it again.”“Doing what?”“Trying to make me crazy.”The look he gave her was pure predatory male. “I like you crazy.”

“Wow,” the bobcat muttered from his desk. “Your sister’s right. Your legs really are skinny.”Toni briefly thought about swiping all the cat’s crap off his desk, but that wasn’t something she’d do to anyone who wasn’t one of her siblings. But that was the beauty of being one of the Jean-Louis Parker clan . . . sometimes you didn’t have to do anything at all, because there was a sibling there to take care of it for you.“It must be hard,” Kyle mused to the bobcat. “One of the superior cats. Revered and adored throughout history as far back as the ancient Egyptians. And yet here you sit. At a desk. A common drone. Taking orders from lowly canines and bears. Do your ancestors call to you from the great beyond, hissing their disappointment to you? Do they cry out in despair at where you’ve ended up despite such a lofty bloodline? Or does your hatred spring from the feline misery of always being alone? Skulking along, wishing you had a mate or a pack or pride to call your own? But all you have is you . . . and your pathetic job as a drone? Does it break your feline heart to be so . . . average? So common? So . . . human?”Toni cringed, which helped her not laugh.”

“He’s jealous of you.” “Is that right?” “Of course! Because no matter what he does, when he puts on your shorts and one of your bras, he never looks as cute in them as you do.”