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When his blood-related granddaughter had come to his Pack-owned home, she’d brought her half-sisters with her and all three had become his concern. His responsibility. His problem. And, to be quite honest . . . his entertainment.
Because where the three of them went—whether together or apart—trouble didn’t simply follow. It nested inside them like a parasite. The trio were the Typhoid Marys of trouble.
Honey badgers never did. But God help you if you attacked them, because they never stopped. They never would stop. No matter how much bigger their enemy, how much stronger, how much faster. Badgers never stopped. Unless, of course, one offered them something better.
“It’s like you want a paw-slap.”
Half wolf and half black bear, Betsey entertained herself with soccer balls and tough rubber toys that were used for pit bulls; she made sure that all her meat-and-vegetable meals were smothered in quality honey; and, if she wasn’t paying attention, she tended to howl along with ambulance sirens. Normally not a big problem . . . except she’d just started medical school and would eventually be doing her residency at a hospital. With ambulances. That had sirens. Awkward.
Still smiling and with a sweet laugh, Max said, “Oh, you misunderstand again. This isn’t a discussion. I’m actually telling you that if you upset either or both of my sisters, I’ll kill you and, possibly, anything you might remotely love.” And still she smiled.
I’ll dismember you while you’re still breathing. And, in case you’re concerned, because it seems like you’d be concerned—you’re clearly very caring—I won’t miss a lick of sleep or have any PTSD over it. Your screams will mean
nothing to me, because I won’t give a fuck. Why? Because I’m a cunt. I’m a raving, raging cunt. At least that’s how my last boyfriend described me as the EMT guys were shoving him into that ambulance.” She clapped her hands together. “So we understand each other, right? We never have to have this conversation again?” Without meeting Max’s eyes,
Maybe this was a hate crime. Maybe Mairi just hated Asians. Max was half Chinese. Honestly, Max really didn’t know. Usually people had to get to know Max MacKilligan before they started hating her.
“your sense of annoyance at the very presence of most human beings,”
“You know exactly what it means.” She frowned in confusion and her head tilted to the side. “Oh, my God,” she said softly, her eyes widening, “you honestly don’t know.” “Don’t know what?”
“He doesn’t know what he is, and I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” “What he is?” “Uh-huh.” She nodded, smiled. “He’s a cat.”
“What?” “You know. Kitty. He’s a kitty-cat.” She shrugged. “Well . . . actually . . . he’s a jungle cat, I think. Cats definitely aren’t
my thing, but he’s not a lion or a tiger. Those are scents I’m well acquainted with.”
She placed her forefinger against her lips. “Shhhhh.” Annoyed—Zé hated when people shushed him—he asked, “Why should I?” “Because we both know you don’t belong here. At first, I thought, ‘Why is this dude hanging around a bunch of ’”—she stuck her tongue out and made a “bleh” sound—“ ‘full-humans? ’ No offense, but . . .” she said to the other men before sticking out her tongue again and making that “bleh” sound. “But then I realized you don’t belong with them at all.” Her smile grew wide. “You’re an infiltrator.” The men all stared at him, and although she was absolutely right, he still had
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“Look, you guys,” she said, smiling at them, “I’m here for one reason. I need you to tell me where Devon Martin is.” Zé glanced at Patowski. “Our benefactor,” Patowski replied. “Yeah. Your benefactor, but my pain in the ass. He keeps sending people after me, and I need it to stop. I’ve got too much going on right now.” She began to count off on her fingers. “I’ve got my sisters to deal with, the crazy cousin who did this to my face, the twin aunts who blew up my uncles on their plane, and now my uncles have moved into our house and I’ve got to fix that.”
Everyone knows you can’t kill honey badgers just by blowing up the plane they’re on,” she scoffed. “Your uncles are honey badgers?” “Well, so am I.” “Of course you are.” Zé sighed. “Okay, we’re done,” Patowski said,
Then it hit him. This was not some crazy girl who happened to get her desperate hands on a knife. This . . . this was a well-trained killer. And staring at him, that well-trained killer put her blood-covered forefinger to her lips and said, “Shhhhh.”
She landed on top of him and grinned down into his shocked face. “Who’s a cutie kitty?” she asked, loving his appalled expression. “Who is? You are!” She then slapped her hand over his face so she could lever herself
In fact, when it came to her teammates, Max didn’t tell Charlie about a lot of things. Not only because she knew her sister would freak out, but because her teammates begged her not to say anything. They were terrified of her sister. They’d never understood how dangerous Stevie was, but despite Charlie’s inability to shift and her calm demeanor when it came to outsiders, Streep, Tock, Mads, and Nelle all managed to agree on this one thing: That Charlie MacKilligan was the most
“Why don’t you tell us what happened yesterday, Zé?” “You don’t have to tell her anything,” Max cut in. She sat catty-corner from him, so he leaned in and whispered to her, “Would it be better for you if I said nothing?” She grinned at him. “Yes.” Zé leaned back and looked at Charlie. “I’ll tell ya anything you want to know!” Max’s grin faded. “You are such a cat.”
“We’re here to teach you about our ways,” Max informed him. “No thank you.” He swallowed, took a sip of coffee. “I’m fine in my reality.” “But your reality is wrong.” “Is it? Or is my reality simply drug free?”
He couldn’t be more cat if he was lounging in a tree with a gazelle carcass. “Look,” Vargas said, wiping his mouth with a paper towel, “I appreciate you guys living in this fantasy universe. And I get it. The world is terrifying right now; it’s easier to pretend that you have special mutant powers. But I live in reality and no one has special mutant powers. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be normal. Be proud of your normalness. Be proud of who you are.”
But as always in the world of shifters . . . the bears came in and fucked all that shit up. It was kind of cute, too. The Dunn triplets did it sometimes, when they thought no one was looking. In their grizzly forms, they marched through the house humming “The Bare Necessities” from that old Disney movie.
The three of them, in a line, lumbered through the living room with their big grizzly heads swinging, all three thousand pounds marching along . . . and humming. Humming “The Bare Necessities” song.
Ric—Ulrich Van Holtz
“Dammit, Charlie,” Max continued to whine. “I fucking hate you.” “I’d hate me, too . . . because I’m always right. I understand how painful that must be for others who aren’t always right.”
“Max! Have you seen a child of mixed parentage running around?” Frowning, Zé and Max exchanged glances. Mixed parentage? Really? “Nope.” “If you see one, let me know.” “How do you lose an entire child?” a male voice snarled and Zé watched in horror as a massive human being stomped toward them. His hair was white with brown layers under it but he wasn’t an old guy. Just massive. Maybe four hundred pounds packed onto nearly seven feet of thick bones. But he moved like a much smaller man. Fluid and easy as if all the world had been built for humans of his size. “Zé, this is Bane and Bo.”
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“Uh, sweetie?” Max called out, catching Blayne’s attention. Then she raised her forefinger and pointed up. Blayne looked up and so did Zé. That’s where they discovered a giggling child of, well . . . obvious “mixed parentage” hanging from the ceiling. The disturbing part was that she didn’t seem to be hanging from anything in particular.
There were no beams or light fixtures. The kid was just hanging there from a flat ceiling. Giggling.
“The man with tusks will flip out?” Max asked. Blayne bent at the waist so that she could put her hands very close to Max’s face as she angrily explained, “They are not tusks! They’re fangs! Like the mighty saber-toothed cat of yore!”
“Instead . . . we have children that can run on the ceiling. Like lizards.” “They can all do it?’ Max asked. “Yeah. They can all do it. Blayne hasn’t figured that out yet, though. She’s probably in denial.” “Probably. But you know what? Most of my family lives in denial and they all seem pretty happy there.”
“Wanna climb a tree with me? ”
“Why the hell, as an actual adult, would I want to climb a tree with another man?” Shen simply looked at the tree and so did Zé. It was a good-sized tree with a wide trunk. The branches were extremely thick and covered in lush leaves. “Oh, my God,” Zé gasped out. “I want to climb that tree.”
“I don’t really climb,” Shen admitted. “I just hang from the lower branch and eat my bamboo.” “And that makes you happy?” “Stevie makes me happy. Hanging from a tree limb and eating bamboo . . . ? That’s just an enhancement to my happy.”
“That’s not the point!” “I was with my family. Not on purpose, my mother made me.” Kyle was one of the Jean-Louis Parkers. A family of jackals headed by a former child-genius mother who’d given birth to a whole litter of geniuses.
Her former protégé was grinning at the computer screen,
Miki Kendrick was
Even smart people tended to be stupid and the frustration was more than she could handle. So she’d settled on “annoying . . . not annoying.” It worked for her.
“Bitch, I’m a black woman from the wilds of Texas. Trust me when I say I can have your wolf ass hunted, stuffed, mounted, and displayed in my living room before the day’s over.” “This has been fun!” Holtz interjected into the following silence before he shoved Dee-Ann out into the hallway and left Irene and Miki to their work.
“Maaaaaaaax!” a voice screeched seconds before Bane—sorry . . . Blayne—the
Slowly Max turned her head to look at him. “Now do you see?” “Cocaine?” he asked, assuming that would explain the woman’s risky behavior. “Nope. Sprite. Maybe Pepsi.”
“Actually,” Blayne said, dropping to the ground and gliding to a stop in front of Max, “none of those things. Shirley Temples. Six of them.” She pumped her fist into the air and screamed out, “Woooooo-hoooo!”
Max watched Blayne perform what she seemed to think constituted dancing. It wasn’t. It was just a horrifying show of “Blayne moves.”
“What?” Max asked when she stood next to her sister. “Livy asked about you.” “Livy who?” “Your cousin.” Max frowned, confused. “The one you’ve
threatened with death many times?”
“Still un...
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“And they aren’t telling her anything because they don’t want to look like they’re forcing her out. Even though they’re hoping to force her out through you.” “Through me?” “They probably figure she’s not going anywhere unless you go with her.” Exasperated, Max finally asked what she’d been thinking for days now. “When did I become the center of this chick’s life?” “She’s your mother!” Livy yelled back with a laugh.
“I guess I don’t. I’ve got a lot going on here and I just met a guy. He’s extremely hot.” “Did you try to throw this one out a window, too?” “I never try, I succeed. And I haven’t had to do that with him. Plus, he’s a cat, so he’d land on all fours anyway.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know anything about that. But this all seems awkward now. I feel awkward.” She weakly gestured to some random spot. “I’m gonna . . . walk away now.”
