Hot and Badgered (Honey Badger Chronicles, #1)

by Shelly Laurenston

Shrieking and crying, she shoved past two men trying to grab hold of her and dove face first behind a lab table. As one sister disappeared, another reappeared. Max and her stolen blade came up behind another man. She cut his throat and slammed the blade into the neck of the man standing beside him. A new attacker grabbed her from behind, big arms pinning hers to her body. She rammed her foot hard on his instep. Twice. Then bent her knee and brought her foot back against the man’s knee, breaking it. Another aimed a gun at her and began firing. Max turned hard, bringing the one holding her along for the ride, so his back became her shield. By the time he hit the...

like, but what could Dougie do? Bullets flashed past Dougie, but he only moved his head slightly to the left to avoid getting shot. His phone vibrated, letting him know his father had texted him back, but as he was about to read the message, Charlie appeared behind one of the men blindly shooting at the room, trying to kill Max, who’d managed to brutally knife six more men so far. Charlie grabbed the man from behind, trying to get his gun. But one of the man’s cohorts came to his rescue, putting a gun to her forehead. She grabbed that gun, though, with both hands, and turned her body into the man’s. Then she pulled the trigger for him, shooting the first man twice in the head. She aimed and shot a...

She dropped the empty magazine, reached down and took another mag from the man she’d just killed. Shoved the full mag into the gun, put a round in the chamber, and turned to find a .45 aimed at her. As the shooter pulled the trigger, Max came from underneath him, shoving his arms up so the shot went wild; then she finished him with a blade across the throat. That’s when they all froze. Even his two cousins, which was what made Dougie a tad concerned. Nothing had fazed them so far. So . . . what would exactly? It started out like a low grumble. Then it became a roar. A big cat roar. Orange, white, and black striped paws the size of massive platters landed on the lab table, crushing the thick slab of...

While they all stared, Stevie’s shifted form began to rise . . . and rise . . . and rise. Until her head nearly reached the ceiling. . . and even then, Dougie got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t standing completely straight yet. That she was still bent over. Staring down at the remaining men, Stevie suddenly leaned forward and roared, shattering the windows throughout the room and, Dougie was sure, the entire building based on the screams he could hear from outside. No longer thinking about the women kicking their asses, the men aimed their guns at the thing baring rows of massive fangs at them. Honey badger fangs that were quadrupled in size. Then Stevie did something Dougie didn’t expect from any badger or ca...

around the neck of one of the men, tossing him across the room and out the shattered window. “Kill it!” one of the men bellowed, and the rest began firing. Stevie skittered across the ceiling until she reached the man who’d given the order. She landed on him, grabbing the wailing man in her maw and dragging him off to the far corner of the lab, ignoring the bullets and screams of the other men. And while Stevie had their full attention, her sisters, without shifting or unleashing their claws, went around killing. Max stuck with the blade, but now she had two. One in each hand. She moved fast and quiet. With no mercy she killed. Her sister stayed with the .45, moving throu...

her first, in which case she shot twice in the chest and then in the head. As for Stevie . . . all Dougie could hear were screams. All he could see was her back arching each time she pulled more flesh from bone. Some men managed to make it out the door, climbing over each other. No longer were they a smart, elite unit of killers. Not after meeting the MacKilligan sisters. Dougie heard sirens and glanced out the window next to him. “Cops!” he yelled at Charlie. She shot another head before she looked at him and nodde...

Max started to go after the men who’d managed to get out the door, but Charlie called her back. “We have to get Stevie!” Max glanced around at the carnage. “Where the fuck is she?” Charlie pointed up and . . . yep, that’s where their baby sister was. Again hanging from the ceiling but now with part of some guy hanging from one of her fangs. A part she was not going to want to give up. Shifted-Stevie tended to “play” with her prey. And guard it territorially. Like most house cats. “Dude,” Max told her sister, “we don’t have time to calm her down.” “I’ve got it.” Charlie moved closer to her sister but not right under her because she didn’t want any more blood dripping on her. “A...

mewling sound. She took a step back—still on the ceiling—not wanting to give up her prize. “Don’t you dare run away from me, Stevie! You come down here right now! This minute!” Stevie released her grip on the ceiling and came crashing to the floor. “Spit it,” Charlie ordered her baby sister. “Spit it!” Annoyed, Stevie spit the torso out of her mouth. “Shift back to human. Right now!” With just a thought, Stevie returned to her human form. Now naked and covered in blood, she stood there, eyes downcast. It wasn’t shame, though. Charlie knew that. It was more like contrition. Like a little girl caught...

“Let’s move.” The three of them ran out of the lab and up the stairs until they reached the roof. There was a long summer dress already waiting on the ledge of the building. Max tossed it to Stevie and she slipped it on while Charlie went from corner to corner, trying to figure out where the cops had set up. She found that they hadn’t made it to the back of the building yet, so she motioned her sisters over. “Go,” she ordered Stevie. “Have you lost your mind?” Stevie asked, already beginning the panic process all over again. “When you consider the physics of—” Pressing her hand against Stevie’s chest, Max shoved her sister off the roof. Screaming, Stevi...

didn’t have any cat in her, so she landed hard, the concrete under her cracking from the impact. But the honey badger still got to her feet and shook it off. Charlie got on the ledge and was preparing to jump when she felt eyes on her. She spun around, gaze searching all the nearby buildings. She saw the scopes, the rifles. The women holding them. She bared her fangs in rag...

“You could just get rid of the dog,” Max said. “I’m not killing a dog.” Max quickly looked up, eyes blinking. “I meant throw him out; not kill him.” “Awwwww, I’m glad that’s what you meant,”

“Why would there be a morgue in a sports center?” Charlie asked. “Because Soylent Green is people?”

“Quiet, tiny female.”

And Max did, for a little bit. But then, while Britta and Novikov bickered, she abruptly moved between the pair and held up one leg to Novikov. “Get this skate off.” Without realizing what he was doing—he was so busy trying to rationalize his crazy scheme—Novikov quickly untied the skate. Then he untied the other when Max lifted it up. Once she had the skates off, she started walking off the ice, pulling off first her hockey shirt, then her elbow pads. Then her shoulder pads. When she dropped the shoulder pads to the ice, the small female suddenly took off.

Catching the move, Britta and Novikov stopped arguing and turned to watch. Max charged across the ice toward the stairs that led to the bleachers. “Uh-oh,” Britta muttered when she realized that Coop’s big sister was standing in those bleachers, talking to some lion. Her back was to Max, so she had no idea the crazed honey badger was headed right for her. Britta started to skate over there, hoping to stop what she saw as the possible slaughter of Coop’s sister. True, Toni Jean-Louis Parker got on her last nerve, but Britta didn’t want her hurt either. But before she could even get down the entire length of the rink, Max suddenly turned toward the protective glass wall that kept the audience safe from the play. Using her claws, she scrambled up and over. Once she touched down, she ran on the bleachers toward where Toni was standing. When she was about four bleachers or so below her, the badger launched herself up and over . . . and into the lion. Startled, Toni jumped back as Max slammed the lion to the ground and began pummeling the cat with brutal fists. Understanding that Toni wasn’t the focus of the badger’s rage, Britta slowed down. Maybe this was Max’s old boyfriend. There were a few men in Britta’s past that she’d love to slap around like chew toys. It took the lion a bit to understand what was going on. But once he did, he began fighting back. First, he tried to push Max off and then punched her back. But if Max felt his blows, you couldn’t tell. She didn’t scream o...

out a blade that had Britta, Novikov, and Reed bolting toward her. Max swung her arm up over her head. The point glinted in the bright stadium lights seconds before it arced down toward the lion’s chest. They would never reach him. All three of them were fast, but not as fast as Max and her blade. But Britta had to try. It was in her nature. She pushed her body as hard as she could, trying to reach— Inches from the lion’s chest, Max’s wrist was caught. Held. Charlie yanked her sister up and away, pulling her to the stairs and keeping her there with nothing more than a glare. The pair stared at each other, nei...

been made to hold blades or something. Max walked up the stairs, and that’s when Britta saw Berg and Dag. Neither of her brothers was a big fan of hockey. So she knew they hadn’t come here for her. They were here for something else. For the MacKilligan sisters. Charlie didn’t move until Max was near the exit doors. The She-hybrid started to follow her sister, not realizing that the lion male had gotten to his feet and now stood behind her, bloody and bruised. He didn’t seem to notice her, though; his gaze firmly locked on little Stevie, who stood beside Coop and his younger brother Kyle. The trio standing near the exit doors Max was about to walk through. When Stevie turned away, head down, Br...

lion, her fingers curled into a fist, and that fist swung out and slammed into the male’s face. Britta cringed. She could hear his jaw breaking from where she stood. “She has gotta helluva punch,” Reed muttered beside Britta. The lion went down with a pathetic whimper, hitting the floor he’d just picked himself up from. Charlie crouched down and spoke to him. Her voice so low, Britta couldn’t understand what she was saying. But she could guess. She could guess that Charlie was making it clear th...

“Well, when you’re being irrational—” “Irrational? Me?” “What do you call it when you try to round up shifters you, and I’m quoting, ‘Don’t much like the look of’?” “You didn’t see her once she shifted.” “I didn’t have to. I’ve seen Novikov. He has tusks. Like a goddamn walrus.” “She’s bigger than he is shifted. She’s gotta be at least twenty feet long. Maybe longer. That ain’t right. That’s—” “Please don’t say unholy.” “—unholy.” Ric briefly placed his head on his desk. “I love how your Christianity only comes into play when you don’t have a rational argument for something you don’t like.”

“So, let me sum up—we’ve got one vote for total annihilation and one vote for forcing them to join the hockey team. Am I correct?” “Yes,” both females replied.

what happened to your face?” “It’s nothing. I just got in a fight with a wolf and . . . what was the other one?” “Siberian tiger,” Max replied. “Yeah. Siberian tiger. Oh . . . and him.” She pointed at Dutch. Tiny stared at Dutch and back at Charlie several times before informing Dutch, “She kicked your ass.” “I am aware!” Dutch snapped.

Max isn’t nearly as much of a psychopath as the social worker said because otherwise, she wouldn’t feel any guilt at all. At least that’s what I tell myself. All the time.”

Stevie was relieved when she heard the doorbell. She rushed to the front door and yanked it open. “Yes?” she asked the young man standing there. He sighed, shook his head. “You still don’t remember me?” “I should?” “You just saw me a few hours ago. I’m Cooper.” When she continued to silently stare, he added, “Mr. Needy?” “Oh! Kyle’s brother.” His gaze rolled up and he took several deep breaths. “Do you need something?” she pushed. “Or do you just want my autograph?”

Stevie came around the chair and walked over to the man, holding out her hand. “Stevie MacKilligan.” “Shen Li. We met. At Livy’s apartment? When your sister tried to kill her cousin and the grizzly.” “Oh. I do think I remember you.” Pulling her hand away, she asked, “Are you a bear?” “Yes. Giant panda.” “You know”—she put her hand to her chest—“I’m not afraid of you at all.” “You shouldn’t be.” He grinned. “I’m very nice.” “And so cute!” She grabbed his cheeks with both hands and twisted. “Like a big stuffed toy!”

“Uh . . .” “Hey,” Max said from behind her, “Dad’s getting in an argument with some bears. I’m really hoping they kick his—Stevie! What the fuck are you doing?” “Isn’t he cute?” Stevie demanded, her fingers still on Shen’s face. But then her sister was next to her, slapping her hands down. * * * Max didn’t know what her idiot sister was thinking! Not only did the giant panda look confused and irritated, but he was armed. A holstered Sig Sauer attached to his jeans, just barely covered by a light jacket. He wasn’t as big as the grizzlies and cats that had just stormed into their house. Only six feet or so, but his shoulders were wide as hell and there was nothing but muscles under that black T-shirt and jeans. And unlike Max herself, he didn’t dye his black hair one color,

instead letting those black stripes cut through his thick, white strands with pride. Sharp cheekbones accented the black eyes currently staring at Stevie. “But look at him!” Stevie practically squealed. “He’s just so damn adorable!” Max didn’t know what her sister was looking at. The man she saw was probably military trained and would have no qualms about hurting people that got too close to those he was trying to protect. But Stevie was acting like he was one of those giant stuffed pan...

The door slammed shut and Max let out a sigh. She didn’t know how Charlie did this on a daily basis. Maintain order. Honestly, it would have been easier just to make a run for it or lay waste to everyone in a five-mile radius. Illegal but easier. Oh, and . . . yeah . . . morally wrong.

She started to return to the kitchen, but she realized that Stevie was heading toward the unsuspecting panda, who had turned away as he put his bag down on the couch. Terrified at what she might do next, Max rushed over and grabbed her sister around the waist. She lifted her up and carried her out of the living room and into the kitchen down the hall. Max dropped her and spun Stevie around to face her. “I’m going to say this once: Stay away from the panda.” Stevie clapped her hands together and crowed, “But he’s just so cute!”

he leaned against the railing surrounding most of the porch and stayed there. Charlie didn’t really think about it until Berg cleared his throat. “What?” Dag asked his brother. “Go away.” Dag’s gaze slowly bounced between Berg and Charlie. “Oh!” he finally said, grinning. “Right. Got stuff to do.” He went back into the house. “Yeah,” Berg muttered, “lots to do. Like look at porn online.” “Don’t judge. Sometimes one needs to check out bad homemade porn to feel alive.” “Big porn fan, are you?” “Not particularly. Except the Japanese animation stuff.” “Seriously?” Berg asked, laughing. “Yeah. If I watch that stuff then I’m not worrying ‘what do her parents think?’ Why don’t I worry? Because the girl getting hardcore fucked while still managing to keep her nurse’s hat on—an actual video by the way—is just animation.” “That’s amazing logic.” “Isn’t it, though?”

Berg and Britta turned to face Charlie’s middle sister and, together, brother and sister screamed and stepped away from her. “Dear God, Max! What happened to your face?” Berg hysterically asked. She shrugged, the quills in her face wiggling when she did. “A porcupine attacked me. Flung its quills at me.” She glanced around, seemingly not bothered by the many—many—quills hanging from her face like some weird, horrifying mask. “Charlie around?” “She’s meditating.” “Oh. I’ll wait. She knows how to get these out.” She stood there for a moment before announcing, “I’m going into the kitchen for water . . . do you have straws?” “In the cabinets somewhere.”

“I’ll find them.” She left the room and Berg and Britta counted down, “Three, two, one—” “Max!” Stevie exploded from the kitchen. “What the fuck?” “I was attacked. It flung its quills at me. It’s not my fault.” Stevie appeared outside the living room, finger pointing at what they assumed was her sister. “You are such a liar, Max MacKilligan. Porcupines don’t fling their quills. They back up into whatever is attacking them. That means your face was down near its ass when it got you! What is wrong with you? Who attacks a porcupine?” “If you’re going to make a big deal about it,” Max said as she walked back into the living room, “I’ll just leave.” Without meaning to, both Berg and Britta yelped and jumped away from her again. The sight of her face was just that horrifying. “Sorry,” Berg said when Max rolled her

eyes. “But your face. It’s freaking us the fuck out.” “Don’t apologize to her,” Stevie said. “She deserves what she got. Leave the porcupines alone, Max!” “Are you done lecturing me, Mom?” Eyes narrowing, Stevie gripped her sister’s shoulder with one hand and took hold of about six quills with the other. Then she yanked. Max howled in pain and jerked back. “You bitch!” She pushed past Stevie and disappeared down the hallway, calling out, “Charlie!” Stevie grinned, the quills—bloody at the tips—still gripped in her hand. Then they all jumped yet ...

Her ridiculously enhanced hearing—both badger and wolf hearing being what it was—told her as soon as her sisters made an appearance at the Dunn house. She was also not surprised when she heard chatter, screams of horror, arguing and, eventually, more screams of horror. The MacKilligan sisters didn’t know how not to make an impression. Still, she’d have preferred not to open her eyes and see Max standing in front of her with her entire face covered in porcupine quills.

“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.” “Kyle—” “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?” “Okay, that’s it!” Britta suddenly exploded, yanking the gate open and storming through. She grabbed the kid by the back of his jeans again and now his hair. She lifted him off his feet and carried him back to the honey

badgers’ house. “You are a horrible, horrible child and if you’d been my son, I’d have taken you directly to a military school!”

“I see you got your nose fixed.” Finger pointing, Carrie stepped toward Charlie but her mother quickly pulled her back. “Sweetheart, let me handle this. Go over with your sisters.” “Fine.” She glared at Charlie. “Whore.” “Your ass is still flat.” Bernice grabbed her daughter’s arm and yanked her away before she could drag her claws down Charlie’s face. A move Charlie did appreciate. Those claws could leave scars forever depending on how deep one cut. “Wow,” Stevie muttered, watching the mother and daughter moving away. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Her ass is flat.” “She’s never had a good ass.” “Personally,” Max added, but not bothering to lower her voice, “I like that she made her nose so ridiculously small that she can barely breathe now.” She studied her cousin for a

moment and finished up with, “It’s like she has all this face”—she held her hands about two feet apart—“but this”—she closed her hands until she made a tiny circle with her fingers and raised her voice several octaves—“tiny little nose.”

‘You’re so talented, Mr. MacRyrie,’” Berg mocked his sister in a high-pitched voice, watching as she waved at the SUV carrying the bear and wolf. When the car turned the corner, the piece of wood his sister had been holding came flying at his head. He ducked, the wood flew past him and rammed into the head of poor Dag, who’d been coming around the corner of the house. “Motherfucker!” Britta cringed before blaming Berg. “See

what you made me do?” “Me?” She rushed to Dag and wiped the blood from his head with her hand. “This is all Berg’s fault,” she told Dag. “I know it is.”

“Excuse me?” The weasel had picked himself up after being tossed across the street by Lock MacRyrie and was now standing outside their fence. Existing. And his existing annoyed Berg. Slowly, Berg and his siblings looked over at the weasel. Without saying a word, they focused on him . . . and waited. Instead of getting the hint, he cheerfully asked, “Any idea when the girls will be back?” They continued to silently stare, reminding Berg why he loved his siblings. Why he loved being part of triplets. For moments like these. The weasel glanced around. “Uh . . . okay. Um . . . could you tell them I stopped by?”

Staring. “All right. I’ll just, uh . . . I’ll just text Max. Yeah.” He nodded. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll text Max.” Finally, after the endless silence, he gave a wave and walked off. When he was gone, Berg turned to those who’d shared a womb with him for nine months and—to their mother’s great annoyance—three weeks and, as one, they smiled.

“I’ll give you fifty thousand.” Max blinked. “Dollars? American dollars?” Charlie raised her forefinger. “I already told you, I’m not doing anything illegal. And I’m not killing anybody for you.” “If I wanted someone dead, I’d hire Max.” “Awww,” Max said, gently touching Bernice’s forearm. “That’s sweet.”

“Should I go there and kill everybody?” “Why is that always your first suggestion?” “It’s the most expedient.”

Charlie asked, “What time is it?” “No idea.” He blindly grabbed the remote control by the bed and hit a button. The dark drapes flew back and they both screamed at the bright morning sun flooding their room. “Close it!” she yelled at him. “Close it!”

an aficionado of the leaf.”

Britta was moments from yelling at her brother, but she heard someone come creeping down the stairs. The cat shifter her brother had picked up the night before was wearing the clothes she’d been wearing when Britta saw her coming into their house with Dag. She silently watched the puma walk by, heading toward the door. The twat smiled at Berg but didn’t even acknowledge Britta, and it was her house too. So Britta did what any sister would do, “I really wish you’d stop bringing your whores here, Dag!” she yelled at the cat’s back The cat stopped at the living room doorway, back muscles flexing. But after a few seconds, she headed out; the front door slammed shut. Grinning, she looked at Berg. “What?” she asked when he shook his head at her. “Do not do that when Charlie spends the night.” “I wouldn’t do that to Charlie,” she admitted, “because Charlie would rip my face off. Because she’s a lunatic. Which is why I can’t believe you gave her my car!” “Lent. I lent her your car. She’ll bring it back.” “Covered in bullet holes?” Her brother shrugged. “There’s every possibility.”

“A bear? Seriously?” Bernice demanded. “That girl!” Kenzie relaxed back in the booth so that she was sitting at an angle, able to see both of them. “Are you really shocked by this? It’s not like my sister makes good life choices.” “But she did. With Ron. The very rich Ron with wonderful connections.” Kenzie smirked at Charlie. “My mother’s all about the love.” “Fuck love,” Bernice snapped. “I’m talking about the financial future of this family.” “Resting on the giant shoulders of a spoiled brat.” Kenzie gave her mother a thumb’s up. “Good job, Ma.” “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. “Stop it.”

“I love Kyle, but if I had to date that boy, I’d put a pillow over his head until he stopped moving. And that would be a great loss for art, don’t you think?” Charlie nodded and told her sister, “I love your sound logic.” “It’s just one of my many gifts.”

“Get some chicken!” Stevie yelled from inside the cabinet. Having retrieved the card, Britta asked, “Do you want to come with me, Stevie? Get out of the cabinet for a little while?” “Uh . . . okay.” Stevie eased the door open and skittered out. It was weird because she crawled out of the cabinet and down the refrigerator to reach the floor without grabbing onto anything. Kind of like a spider. But the bears didn’t say anything about it and neither did Charlie. It was best not to talk about these things. It just freaked people out more.

Once they were inside, Britta started the vehicle and immediately turned on the AC. “I still make you nervous, Stevie?” she asked as she slid on her sunglasses. “Everything makes me nervous.” Stevie thought a moment. “Well . . . not everything. But man-eaters definitely make me nervous.” “But tigers are man-eaters . . . and you’re half tiger.” Stevie stared out the front window for several seconds ruminating on that bit of information before admitting, “Dear God. I’m terrified of myself.”