But until her identity was revealed at midnight, the Queen of Hearts had to remain masked, so Zoe had a discreet word with the orchestra director. As she was finishing her instructions, her wolf growled. She spun. Headed straight for her, face brutal in his ripped masked, was the handsy Zeus. Handsy. By her paws and claws. Had his groping been a cover for light-fingering her key? Her wolf’s growl deepened. It certainly thought he had, and it wanted immediate revenge, of the bloodiest kind. But her human counseled caution. First, she didn’t want to make a scene in front of her elegant guests. But second, if Zeus had already gotten the key, what more could he want from her? She needed to delay, a chance to figure out his game. Then she’d let her wolf have its confrontation. As the first strains of the “Blue Danube” began, she trotted for the corner buffet table, full of cheese and chatting couples.
