Cheetahs Never Win

by RJ Blain

  I shrugged.

  Sassy’s father returned with several printouts, which he handed around. “She’s Sassy. She liked she could sass him without fear of rebuttal. She could be herself around him, and that’s rare for her. All of the cheetahs she knows wouldn’t give her the time of day most of the time. Coalition males do not pay much mind to breeding females, and they don’t handle her sassing very well. He did, and that hit her hard. To almost lose you, too? She needed to get it out of her system. When she wakes up, all hell is going to break loose.”

  Keeping Sassy from taking over the world in her quest for vengeance would occupy me for a while. “We just have to convince her that sinking them is the best we’re going to get.”

  “She’ll be fine,” her father assured me. “She’ll be pissy about it, but we’re all pissy about it. These fuckers killed a good man for no other reason than disliking his politics.”

  The truth would hurt for a long time. “No, they killed him because of his ethics. He’s the type of man who would’ve worked relentlessly to stop them. He dedicated his life to making up for a bill he wasn’t even fully at fault for.” I regretted not learning that truth sooner. Things might’ve been different.

  Sassy’s father sighed. “And had they been smart, they would’ve made sure you hadn’t survived the shooting, because you’re cut from that same cloth. You tossed your career down the drain just like he did for the same reasons. Justice will be served one way or another. There’s a lot we can’t do without a badge, but there’s a lot we can do. Working with the DA is untraditional, and we’ll step on FBI toes, but we can present enough evidence to point the FBI in the right direction, and that’s what this is all about. We won’t get our share of the glory, but we will make certain every last one of those asses pays.”

  “In blood would be nice,” I muttered.

  My brother yanked on my ear. “No. You may not indulge your lycanthropy virus with brutal violence, no matter how satisfying it might be. I had to turn in my gun until it was determined I would not participate in vigilante justice.”

  “Be nice to your brother, Mark,” my father ordered.

  “For the record, I find your favoritism disturbing,” my brother complained. “Why are you siding with them, anyway? They took my gun!”

  My mother smiled. “You do not need to carry around that nasty rifle everywhere. And as for your brother, he was always the nicer child, that’s why.”

  “You suck, Aaron.”

  “How is the loss of your rifle my fault?”

  “You got shot, and for some reason, my commanding officers determined I would leave a pile of bodies in my wake if I got a list of the assholes responsible. They found out I had a list of the assholes responsible. Joe? Tell them I can have my gun back. They seem to think you can handle a psychiatric evaluation.”

  “No. And you’re not going into the field until you have a high-sensitivity lycanthropy scan done. You’re as vicious as your brother, and he’s fresh off his first shift. With the way you sleep around, you probably got infected years ago. That’ll serve you right, too. And if you did get infected, I bet there’s a cranky lady waiting for her chance to land you permanently. So, Mark. Have you had any cranky ladies hanging out in the wings lately? Maybe a reoccurring dalliance somewhere? A favorite brothel?”

  I relaxed and waited for the real show to begin, one where two military-trained assholes went in for gold and emerged battered and bruised. I put my bets on my brother; he needed the vent before he burst. “I’m not sure I classify as vicious, Joe. I’m with you on my brother being short a few cans of a six pack, though. If you’re going to go bust him up and make him a cat, too, do it outside. Keep the infections to the younger generation.”

  “For that, you’re not getting pixie dust or painkillers until you’re begging. Anyway, you’re really non-violent for a first shifter. You were remarkably well behaved at the hospital. Good job, by the way. The one nurse said you’d limited your aggression to flat ears and hissing. No swipes, and you kept your blood to yourself. You score full points and a best first shifter award.”

  “There’s an award? What do I get?”

  “One get out of ass-kicking free card. You need it. I don’t know what the hell you did to my sister, but she wouldn’t stop purring until we got the call you’d been shot. You get a second card for your work with Sharon. You might need two. My sister wouldn’t stop purring. It was disturbing.”

  “Maybe if you were better to your coalition buddies, they’d purr, too,” I countered.

  Sassy’s father howled his laughter. “You just lost that one, son. Give it up. Your sister was purring because she was happy. She’s been waiting a long time for him. Let her be happy. She’ll start purring again once she feels like she’s able to do something. And she probably won’t stop for a while.”

  “After the first few kids, maybe,” Sassy’s mother said, striding into the living room carrying a tray loaded with mugs, which she set on the coffee table. “I’ve soup warming for you in the kitchen, Aaron. There’ll be barbecue in a few hours, but the soup should tide you over while you do your reading and planning. Joe, I don’t want to hear you getting mouthy with the guests again.”

  “Aaron doesn’t count. He’s stealing my sister.”

  “Boy, you’re so jealous you can’t see straight,” Sassy’s father scolded, grabbing Joe by the ear and dragging him towards the kitchen. “We’ve mouths to feed, and when your mother says we’re having barbecue, that means we get to make it. Leave Aaron alone. You’ve checked him over plenty, and your sister’s fine, too. You’re just mad she went to him and not you, and your delicate big brother sensibilities are offended. Don’t you be minding him any, Aaron. I swear, some days, this one wants to be a breeding male and is too much of a chicken shit to tell his coalition he wants a lady to catch him so he can raise a litter, too.”

  “Dad!”

  “Don’t you ‘Dad’ me, you brat. March. Your momma wants her turn helping with the hunt, so we get to provide the meat so she doesn’t come after us when she’s hungry in a few hours, and you know how your momma gets when she’s hungry.”

  I waited for them to leave before grinning at Sassy’s mother. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, you just tell us what we need to do so we can get the real work done while the boys play in the yard.”

  “We need to get as much dirt as we can on these assholes so we can bury them with it,” I said, pointing at the boxes of newspaper articles. “And we start looking there, because there’s nothing newspapers love more than getting dirt on filthy politicians.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Fire ants,” Sassy mumbled, stretching on the couch and rubbing her nose against my stomach. “Kill the bastards with fire ants.”

  Hours of reading with a short break to scarf down ribs and brisket had earned us a pile of newspaper articles and a list of reporters, some whom still lived in the area, who might have more intel on the men and women on our list. I considered the stacks, which took up most of the living room floor, fighting my urge to smile. “That’s a pretty good idea. How do you propose to kill the bastards with fire ants?”

  “Dump chocolate on their heads and leave the ants on their yard. Ants can figure it out. Ants love chocolate.” She yawned, wrapped her arms around me, and held on tight. “Warm.”

  The prophesied fever had something to do with the warmth, and Sassy’s father kept changing the temperature when I rotated through the various stages of sick, trying to keep me comfortable without a care in hell about what anyone else thought about it. “There’s lunch in the fridge for you if you’re hungry.”

  Sassy growled and bit on my bathrobe, which I translated as hard evidence of her hunger. “Bathrobes aren’t food.”

  She didn’t agree with me, as she tried to take several more bites before hissing her frustration.

  “And that would be my idiot sister still mostly asleep,” Joe announced. “But find out more
about those fire ants.”

  Grinning, I poked Sassy’s shoulder. “Do fire ants even like chocolate?”

  “They better. Chocolate’s delicious. You’re warm enough to melt chocolate on.”

  Joe snorted. “That’s because he’s running a fever, Sassy. Also, let us never discuss you melting chocolate on Aaron ever again, thank you.”

  “Since when did you become such a wuss?” Sassy hissed at her brother, eased off my lap, and lurched upright. She eyed my bathrobe. “Why aren’t you wearing clothes, Aaron?”

  “Your father gave it to me, then you fell asleep, and I wasn’t going to wake you. This is what I’m wearing now.” I smiled at her and pushed her hair out of her face and tucked the wayward strands behind her ears. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Are fire ants an option? We could get thousands of them and let them loose on their lawn. Get entire nests of them.”

  “I don’t think we can assault them with fire ants, Sassy.”

  She scowled. “We wouldn’t be assaulting them. We’d just be letting nature run its course. We’d just provide some chocolate to help encourage them.”

  “Why waste good chocolate?”

  “We have to guarantee the fire ants attack them. It’s the only way to be sure.”

  “I have no idea what you were dreaming about, but should I be concerned?”

  “I will not use chocolate on you in that fashion. And I’d use the best quality chocolate on—”

  “No,” Joe snapped. “No. No. No. We are not discussing what you would do to Aaron if you slathered him in chocolate.”

  Sassy’s brows rose, and she blinked at her brother. “Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking about my mate like that, you insufferably male cheetah pervert. He’s mine. If you want to be slathered in chocolate, go find yourself some other female. It’s not my fault you coalition males are so damned tame.”

  In what universe were coalition males, who had a reputation of sleeping with anything male that moved, tamed? “Yeah, go find some other female, Joe. I’m sure my mother would be delighted to introduce you to some classy ladies. That’s the only type of lady my mother bothers with. Classy.”

  “I know a few wolves,” my mother agreed. “Single wolves. Of the female variety. They come to church sometimes. I know a cat, too. Not sure what breed, she’s too shy to tell a soul, mind you. She brought an angel to church with her, surprising us all something fierce. Turns out the poor dear hasn’t been taking to lycanthropy well, and her momma put it in her will to pay an angel to help her get all settled. The angel refused payment, and well, she’s just not comfortable and all adrift. She’d love to tame herself another cat, I’m sure. She won’t come within five feet of us normal folks, terrified of passing on her infection.”

  I leaned forward for a better look at my brother, who sat on the floor still flipping through newspapers. “When did our mother start hanging out with lycanthropes, Mark?”

  “Around the same time it was obvious the only way she’d get grandchildren was if she got over herself and accepted grandchildren were only coming through a severe case of infectious, incurable disease. After that, she dove right on in. Then she changed churches because they wouldn’t let any lycanthropes in the door, and that didn’t sit right with her. I’d call it three years ago. You really should visit them more often.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  My father chuckled, dumping a newspaper into the read pile and grabbing another. “She was hiding it from you expecting to have to swallow some bitter pills. Your brother only found out because she made him go to church with her the last time he came to town.”

  “Joe should totally go get laid by someone of the female persuasion,” Sassy said, rolling her shoulders. “I need a shower. I think I’m still wearing some of your blood, Aaron. You’re probably wearing some of your blood, too, so you should come shower with me.”

  “Stop it!” Joe howled.

  “Bless your heart,” my mother murmured, shaking her head. “Go take a shower, and take your time about it. Your brother’s been so offended he wasn’t the one to coddle you, he’s been rather hissy. I’ve noticed the felines hiss often. It’s rather endearing, really.” My mother’s smile brightened to a huge grin. “Please. Take your time.”

  My mother was on a mission for grandchildren, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d probably end up snoozing on the nearest appropriate surface rather than doing what she wanted.

  “Come on, Aaron. Your hair’s a mess.” Sassy grabbed my hand and tugged until I rose to my feet. “You’ll feel better after you’re cleaned up.”

  While I likely did have blood in my hair, I doubted I needed another shower, but I cooperated with her anyway, following her upstairs. The instant we reached the top of the staircase, she checked behind us. Huffing, she dragged me to the master bathroom typically reserved for her parents.

  “You’re testing your luck.”

  “Daddy won’t care and Mom will accept it as inevitable. You need to relax and soak, and they have the good tub. It fits both of us. The others don’t. But I’ll shower first while you lounge.” To make it clear she wasn’t accepting no for an answer, she stoppered the tub, got the water running, and adjusted the temperature to her liking. “Soak, Aaron! I was lying about the blood in your hair. Daddy got it all out from the looks of it, it’s just messy.”

  That was something. It took me a few moments to realize Sassy shimmered in the bathroom lights. “You seem to have been hosed down with neutralizer recently.”

  “You don’t remember? We all got hosed down before getting into your truck. We’ll have to clean the seats and bed; it’s pink and sparkly right now. Sorry. They get pissy about potentially spreading the virus.”

  “I’m sure my big, manly truck will survive.”

  “We can spend some quality time together in it to make up for the pink glitter.”

  Did she really think I’d say no? “That sounds like a great idea. We’ll have to schedule it after we take care of a certain list of names. I’m interested in hearing more about your chocolate and fire ant plan.”

  “I don’t think we can get bullet ants. I’d rather use bullet ants. They hurt more.”

  “Where would one get bullet ants?”

  “No clue in hell. It’s easy to get fire ants here. Hell, Daddy can’t get rid of the damned things from the far back of the yard. He’d be thrilled if we could evict those bastards. We can get them in the thousands. Maybe even the hundreds of thousands. I’d sell shoes to get my hands on as many of those little shits as possible.”

  “I’m not sure Maxwell would approve of us terrorizing his killers with fire ants.”

  “Maxwell would fucking love it, but only if we didn’t get caught.”

  “All right, I’m going to listen to your pitch. You make this good, Sassy, and I’ll even think about how we can legally inflict fire ants on those bastards.”

  “With my chocolate syrup?”

  “I can think of better things we could be doing with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Why waste good chocolate when sugar water will do? What if they like chocolate?”

  “You’re right. They might like chocolate. Sugar water is obviously the right way to go about this.”

  “And sugar water is rather hard to detect if we spray it down and try to lure this hive of angry fire ants to the appropriate locations. Are there laws against escorting fire ants to a new home?”

  “I really don’t know, but if there’s not, there should be.” Sassy wrinkled her nose, ditched her clothes in record time, and hopped into the shower. I disapproved of the frosted glass. “That’s why we should do it before it’s against the law. We should check. If it’s not illegal to spill sugar water in a path to a location and strongly suggest the fire ants relocate, we can’t be busted for jack shit.”

  “Think your mother would mind if we snitched some of her bubble bath?” I asked, eyeing the bottle perched on the tub’s ledge.

  “She won’t mind at a
ll. Make yourself cozy, Aaron. Wait until I join you to fall asleep. Oh, and don’t mind my idiot brother. He’s just mad you actually did what he wanted. He was so damned sure you’d run away like a little coward rather than take the dive. I think he was hoping you’d run so I’d have to work to earn you. He’s been striking out with his boyfriends lately.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “The coalition males are dicks, that why. They like their boyfriends young and rowdy. Joe is old and cranky. Your mother’s going to have fun matchmaking for him, and bless his little heart, he’s going to be a mixed species breeding male within a year. And I will enjoy laughing at him. If he’s smart, he’ll settle down with someone who doesn’t have the infection and bring in a new lady to the lines. We need fresh blood. Your contribution only goes so far, and Joe is so not the nurturing type. I’m going to try to rescue your mother’s feline. I know some cats.”

  “I’m aware. You know all the cats.”

  “It’ll be useful when we become cops. Lycanthropes stick together, and if they see something, they’ll let me know. They’ll eventually get to know you and come to you, too. The parents will come to you, particularly.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’ll be more likely to want to murder anyone who hurts a kid. I’m the one they’ll come to if they have a kid needing protection. Males will do anything to eliminate threats to the children. And you were like that before lycanthropy, too. We’ll both get swamped whenever there’s a crime involving kids. That’s going to be rough, but someone has to do it. It’s best if it’s us, right? We’ll do the job right.”

  Even over the shower, I could hear the worry in Sassy’s voice, and all my misgivings over the years and the occasional comments I’d made about not envying the police for the work they did, all came back to haunt me in one way or another. I tossed the bathrobe to join Sassy’s clothing and slipped into the tub, adding a liberal splash of bubbles. “We’ll do the job right,” I promised. “But it might mean we don’t get to lure fire ants to new homes if we can’t find a way to do it without breaking the law.”