Hot and Badgered (Honey Badger Chronicles, #1)

by Shelly Laurenston

Who just ran around trying to kill a naked, unarmed woman? his analytical side wanted to know. The grizzly part of him, though, didn’t care about any of that. All it knew was that it had been shot. And shooting a grizzly but not killing it immediately . . . always an exceptionally bad move.

jackal was already standing behind him. “Well . . .” Coop said, “that was interesting.” “You could say that.” “You’re bleeding.” “Yes. And please stop playing with the knife.” Coop pulled his hand away from the blade handle and attempted to look contrite.

These characters are more animal than human and I love it.

“Can you just drive?” Charlie got into the passenger seat. “But be careful. You still have human stuck to the grill.”

Max did, however, always manage to find a way to wiggle out of whatever situation she’d gotten herself into. And if she couldn’t wiggle free, she would attack head-on without stopping. It was the honey badger way.

Everyone needs a honey badger best friend.

“Now can I go in and kill everybody?” Max asked. “No.” “You and your half-canine morals. It does nothing but get in the way.”

“You know,” Stevie noted, “we could kill her here and bury her and no one would ever know.” She frowned, shook her head. “I guess that was a horrible thing to say.” “No, sweetie. It was just a honey badger thing to say. Nothing to worry about. I say honey badger things all the time but never do them.”

“No,” she replied. Then, before Coop could say any more, she raised her hand, palm out, and informed one of the greatest, most-loved musicians in the world, “And to be quite honest, I can’t deal with some obsessive fan right now.” “Not a fan,” Coop corrected. “We studied together. We were both prodigies.” “Whatever. I’ll get you an autograph later.”

The dialogue is perfection 👌.

“She’s a serial killer.” “Because she . . . smiles?” “Yes.”

But I’m a bear, so we’re naturally loving and giving.” “Really? Because when I hear about bears, they’re either going through people’s garbage or attacking people in Alaska who were out on a jog.” “Because we were startled. Don’t startle us, we don’t attack.”

“Wait a minute.” He held up his hand, palm out, his head cocking to the side before he asked, “Your father’s dead?” Crossing the middle and forefingers on both hands, Charlie raised them and said with a big smile she truly felt, “Here’s hoping!”

“Is no one else concerned about what the fuck she’s using to make those cookies?”

Max, with a small smile on her lips, gazed at random people on the train until they got up and moved.

I want this superpower.

“Why is that one up in a tree?” the gruff man asked. “She’s a genius. So she’s weird.”

Sensing he was being watched, Berg glanced down and to his left. Max stood right next to him, gazing up at him. He then looked to his right and down. Stevie watched him, eyes narrow in distrust. But when she realized he was staring back, she forced a smile that just made him feel terribly uncomfortable. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to ask Charlie out. Yeah. Probably not.

“Dude, you’re a shifter. You don’t date. You just hang around until before you know it, you’re part of her life and she can’t bring herself to get rid of you.” “You mean like a stray dog?” “Or a stray cat. Either one would do us fine.

Stevie abruptly grabbed Berg’s T-shirt and brutally ordered, “You stray-dog this, Berg. You stray-dog this!”

“I think she’s a serial killer,” Livy added . . . for some reason. “Look at that smile,” she said flatly, pointing at Max. “That sick, disturbing smile.”

“She doesn’t remember you. Or me. Or anyone.” “It’s nothing personal.” “Really?” the male called Cooper said. “Because it feels personal.” “I have a lot of knowledge in my head. If something isn’t important, I just get rid of it.” “How is that not personal?” Cherise softly asked.

Kyle always got along better with adults than kids his own age. He didn’t know how to talk to them. He did, however, know how to emotionally torture them, which was another reason he didn’t spend a lot of time with kids his own age. Their parents wouldn’t allow it.

“He’s a lying sack of shit,” she growled out between clenched teeth. “And I’m gonna twist this motherfucker into a pretzel.”

“I love how your Christianity only comes into play when you don’t have a rational argument for something you don’t like.”

“But all my therapists say that I need to cut myself off from toxic relationships. And Daddy . . . you’re toxic.”

And to his bearlike way of thinking, it was because Charlie fit perfectly into his life. She just didn’t know it yet.

No one spoke around her. They’d learned not to. She remembered voices.

Her body pressed against his and he knew he’d been right last night. Charlie fit him perfectly.

Bears, unlike the other shifters, had a little something called self-respect.

“Unlike the rest of the world,” Kyle scoffed, “I don’t fear the great Dee-Ann Smith. Mostly because she finds me”—air quotes—“ ‘off putting.’ You ask a woman for specific details about all those she and her murderous father have killed throughout their terrifying lives so that you can praise their skills in a sculpted piece for the ages . . . and suddenly I’m the mentally disturbing one.”

“Although I do wonder . . . what is it like to be married to an actual sociopath? Do you sleep at all? Or are you too afraid she’ll wake up in the middle of the night and cut your throat for the hell of it? Do you fear for the safety of your child?”

“If I wanted someone dead, I’d hire Max.” “Awww,” Max said, gently touching Bernice’s forearm. “That’s sweet.”

Berg faced her. “Are you armed?” “To the teeth. Anyone even twitches wrong—” “No, no, no.” Berg shook his head. “I need you not to kill anyone today.” “But if they twitch—”

“She’s a Leo with a Taurus moon,” Max explained. “You’re lucky all she did was kick the crap out of you.”

“I understood that your father took about a hundred million dollars.” “A hundred million British sterling, actually.” “How does one lose a hundred million of anything?” “Oh, that’s easy,” she said with a casual air. “By being the biggest fucking idiot known to man or God.”

Stevie wished she could say that such lowbrow activities were an insult to her amazing brain power and all her plans to change the world and humanity for good. But she couldn’t say that because she was enjoying herself so much.

She finally glanced up, and John had known serial killers with warmer eyes.

“But she loves Ron. I know she does,” Bernice insisted. “I see it in her eyes.” “In her cold, dead eyes,” Kenzie muttered, making Charlie snort.

“I’m not giving up science. I am science.”

“I love you and I want you to stay.” Charlie let out an annoyed sigh. “Well . . . that’s all on you.”