Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles, #3)

by Shelly Laurenston

He didn’t know any of that, which meant Max had to protect him. Her mother hadn’t taught her that. Her big sister had. Charlie, whether she meant to or not, had that “good-guy look,” too. She cared about others. She didn’t want “innocents” caught in the cross fire of any fight and, if they were caught, she wanted to make sure they didn’t end up getting killed. It was one of the main reasons she was such an awesome shooter. The last thing Charlie ever wanted to do was to accidentally kill someone who didn’t deserve it. Although Max’s desire to protect innocents wasn’t as intense as Charlie’s or Stevie’s, she still felt a sense of responsibility. Especially to a fellow shifter. Max could have easily dug her way out of this hangar in seconds and disappeared into the surrounding territory, out of real danger. But if she did that, she couldn’t bring the cat with her. So she would stay. And she would help.

Max had been actively recruited by the CIA for years before she was even eighteen, but Charlie had put the kibosh on that. Unsure of what her big sister had done to discourage that interest—the CIA was not an organization that was usually put off by an easily stressed eighteen-year-old who loathed her father and had been fired from Dairy Queen once because she’d put a mouthy patron in a headlock—Max came to realize that organizations like the CIA, the FBI, or the military weren’t for her. They were too regimented. Too cautious. You had to take orders. Max hated taking orders from anyone but Charlie.

Imagine if some guy she didn’t know, who had never saved her life and thought he was in charge simply because of his rank, tried to give her orders . . .

hate me, too . . . because I’m always right. I understand how painful that must be for others who aren’t always right.”

the Zhaos didn’t like to be subtle about their wealth. Not surprising. They were honey badgers. Badgers weren’t subtle about anything.