Stevie had just started to laugh at that cat chasing off two giant dogs when the back door swung open and Charlie ran out, screaming, “Stevie don’t!” But when she spotted Stevie just standing there, Charlie stumbled to a stop . . . and simply stared.
When her sister didn’t say anything, Stevie asked, “Stevie don’t what?”
“Uhhh . . .”
One of the windows on the second floor flew open and a naked, wet Max launched herself out, legs and arms spread wide. And, as she fell, she yelled, “I’ve got herrrr—ow!”
The ow came when Max landed face-first on the lawn, body spread-eagled.
The best part of it all was when the cat returned to eat her tuna she made sure to walk across Max’s back on her way to the can.
And Stevie would have laughed hard—if she wasn’t so pissed off.
“You thought I shifted,” she guessed.
Charlie winced before admitting, “We heard that weird noise you make just before you shift.”
“What weird noise?”
“I don’t know. Kind of a growling hiss or something. It’s weird . . . but distinct.”
“That was the cat.”
“Right.” Charlie nodded her head and adamantly added, “The cat inside you, which we respect.”
“Not the cat inside me,” Stevie bit out, her jaw tight with annoyance. “The cat.” She pointed at the cat now enjoying the tuna by Stevie’s leg.
Charlie gazed at the animal a few moments before suggesting, “You really shouldn’t feed strays. Now we’ll never get rid of her.”
Stevie stepped in close to Charlie. “So I sound like a feral cat to you?”
“Only when you shift,” she insisted.
“How does that make it better?”
“Uh, look, I just think—”
“So I’ve lost so much control, after all these years, that I would shift in the middle of our yard? That’s what you are also saying?”
“You changed your meds,” she said meekly.
“And yet,” Stevie went on, “despite my grotesque shifter size—”
“No one said grotesque.”
“—I still sound like a feral cat that weighs about eight pounds?”
The sisters stared at each other until they heard Max say, “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”
“We won’t,” Stevie and Charlie said together, then Stevie stormed back into the house, dropping into an empty chair at the kitchen table.
Kyle was on the other side, eating toast and sipping juice. Catty-corner was a still–waking up Shen who was in the middle of downing a big bowl of cereal, which normally wouldn’t be something Stevie cared about except for the crunching. So much crunching.
“What kind of cereal is that?” she demanded when she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Grape-Nuts,” he muttered.
“Without any milk?”
Shen looked into his bowl . . . as if he wasn’t sure. “No, there’s milk.”
“He added bamboo to his cereal. That’s the noise you’re hearing,” Kyle explained.
“Well, it’s annoying the fuck out of me.”
Kyle’s eyebrows went up but he knew better than to say anything. Instead, he focused on buttering more toast.
Shen, however, gazed deeply into her eyes . . . and continued to chew. Loudly.
* * *
Shen didn’t know what Stevie MacKilligan expected. That he would stop eating? Bears never stopped eating. Because they were always hungry. It was even worse for giant pandas because bamboo wasn’t nearly as filling as a good steak sandwich. But he didn’t have nightlong dreams about sitting in a field of bamboo that went on as far as the eye could see and eating steak sandwiches.
And if there was one thing he would not let Stevie do, it was interrupt his bamboo-infused breakfast.
Thankfully, their staring contest didn’t go on for too long because Charlie walked in through the back door. As soon as the door opened, Stevie’s gaze moved to the far wall and she crossed her arms over her chest. Then she didn’t move.
Charlie stopped behind Stevie, opened her mouth to say something . . . but nothing came out. She tried again, but still nothing.
Jaw locked in frustration, Charlie walked away; the front door slammed closed a minute or two later.
Just as that door closed, the back door opened again and a naked, filthy, and bloody Max walked in.
“No, don’t mind me,” she said to the back of Stevie’s head. “I’m fine. Just great!”
“No one asked,” Stevie shot back, still not turning around. “And we’re leaving in five minutes!” she yelled after her sister had stomped out of the kitchen.
“More like fifteen,” Shen tossed in before spooning more cereal and bamboo into his mouth. “What?” he asked when Stevie sneered at him. “I need to shower.”
“Then could you pick up the speed? I’m not used to waiting for staff.”
Head dipping lower over his now overly buttered toast, Kyle muttered, “Damn, Stevie.”
Shen swallowed, looked Stevie in the eyes. “I’m merely staff now?” he asked. “I thought I was cute.”
“You’re getting less cute as the day goes on.”
“Hey, don’t take it out on me because your sisters have no faith in you and think you sound like a feral cat from their backyard.”
Stevie slammed her hands on the table and Kyle suddenly bolted out of his chair and moved to the open window.
But all Stevie did was get up and storm out; Kyle let out a breath when she was gone.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” he asked in an almost hysterical whisper. “If she shifts, she could pop us in her mouth like an Altoid!”
“If she shifts, she’ll crush us anyway, so stop your whining.”
“You have no concept of how important I am to the universe, do you? Well, let me tell you—”
Stevie walked back into the kitchen and stood there for a moment. Shen waited for her to start yelling or something, but instead she asked them, “Did you see that? Was that awesome, or what?”
“Your insults?”
“No! I was really angry. Like livid. But look!” She spun around. “I have complete control of my anger. I was able to be angry without turning into a ball of rage that would tear this house down! Dudes! That’s so huge!” She clapped her hands together. “Okay. Let’s all be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
She turned toward the door but it swung open and Oriana walked in wearing the same clothes she’d had on the day before.
Stevie, startled, screamed and spun away and then . . . up. She latched onto the ceiling and gazed down at them.
“Holy shit,” Oriana muttered. “That’s amazing.”
“Oh.” Stevie let out a breath. “It’s you.”
Stevie dropped back down to the floor, retracted her claws, and smoothed down the front of her tank top.
“Sorry about that,” she said to Oriana. “You startled me.”
“No problem.”
“What are you doing here?” Kyle asked his sister.
“I fell asleep on the couch watching TV and no one woke me so . . . here I am.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “That’s such bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you really doing here?”
“I just told you.”
“Oriana, I’ve known you my entire life, unfortunately, and I’ve not known a day since I was born—and yes, I do remember that far back—when you didn’t go to dance class first thing in the morning. I literally do not know a day. You always found time for, at the very least, a class. If not rehearsals for some production. So what are you really doing here?”
She briefly closed her eyes. “The director suggested I take a little . . . time for myself.”
Kyle’s head tipped to the side. “Because . . . ?”
“Because I may have attempted to dig Svetlana’s eyes out of her fucking head. That’s why.”
Shen, not really caring abou
t this conversation, was shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth when both Stevie and Kyle began clapping. Applauding, actually. They were applauding.
“My sister popped her cherry!” Kyle announced and Shen nearly spit his cereal out on the table. “I’m so fucking proud!”
“What are you talking about?” Oriana asked and Shen had to agree with her. What the fuck were they talking about?
“You were always the goody-four-paws,” Kyle explained. “You were cold and bitchy but you never lashed out. Not like that.”
“Liberating, isn’t it?” Stevie asked, sounding giddy.
“You’ve done it too?”
“Nearly took a fellow scientist’s eye out with a pen. Didn’t like his tone.”
“When the great Leonardo di Mancini said my work was tepid at best, I bit him in the kneecap and punched his wife.” Kyle grinned down at Shen. “I was eight at the time.”
“Oh, when I was eight,” Stevie joyfully reminisced, “I threw a hot bowl of mac and cheese at the conductor of the royal symphony. That boxed mac and cheese you get at the grocery store. Hit him right in the neck. Left welts.”
“That’s it,” Shen announced, getting to his feet. “I’m going to go upstairs, take a quick shower, get dressed, and we’ll go.”
“You want to come with us?” Stevie asked Oriana.
“Where?”
“Sports Center. I need a . . . well . . . a sport. And hey!” she suddenly added, pointing at Oriana, “I need a friend too! We could”—she waved in Oriana’s general direction—“try that out. Interested?”
“Do you want to be a dancer?”
“I have no dancing skills. So no. Do you want to be a great scientist?”
“No. But I do like engineering. It’s like a hobby for me.”
“Great. I can always use an engineer.”
“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever been around,” Shen announced. “I’m leaving.”
“Forever?” Stevie asked and Shen could only stare at her. “No, I’m really asking,” she pushed.
“Shower. Gym. Remember our plan?”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Okay.”
Worried that this would get too weird, Shen went upstairs to get his day started.
* * *
“What about him?” Stevie asked Oriana.
“Who?”
“Shen. Are you interested? Because I’m really interested but I’m not big on women fighting over a dude.”
“The guy who just left?” Oriana frowned. “Doesn’t he work for us?”
Kyle rested his chin on his sister’s shoulder and smiled at Stevie. “Now do you see the family resemblance?”
Laughing, Stevie nodded. “Boy, do I ever.”
* * *
Charlie sat on the front stoop of Berg’s house, watching Stevie, Kyle, Shen, and Oriana get into Shen’s dark blue SUV to head into Manhattan.
“She should be mad at me,” Charlie said when Berg sat down behind her, his long, massive legs on either side of her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “I just panicked when I heard that noise.”
“It’s going to take time for you to let go. You’ve been doing this for . . . ever.”
“Not just me . . . we.”
Max ran out of the house, a small backpack slung over her shoulder. A few feet away from the SUV, she jumped at it, latching onto the passenger side. She pressed her face against the window and screamed.
Laughing, she dropped down and got into the backseat.
Charlie let out a sigh. “At least I never had to do this alone.”
Berg pressed a kiss to her brow and said against her flesh, “Please don’t worry.”
“I’m working on it.”
He chuckled. “Bacon?”
Charlie looked over at the platter on the stoop beside them. “An entire plate of bacon. Just a giant pile.”
“I thought you loved bacon?”
“I live for bacon. I could eat bacon until the end of time. But I also like my arteries not being clogged. Because, right now, that’s all I need. A heart attack or stroke on top of the bleeding ulcer everyone says I’m going to have because of my self-imposed stress.”
Berg kissed the side of her forehead again, but she was smart enough to know he only did that to stop from laughing at her
“Your phone is vibrating,” he pointed out.
“I know. I’m ignoring it.”
“You’ve been ignoring it for two days.”
“Because it’s my aunt. I’m guessing she’s calling about Great-Uncle Pete’s funeral. A man none of us knew. Not only that, I don’t feel like spying for those pricks.”
“Totally understandable.”
The phone stopped ringing . . . but started again almost immediately.
“But we both know she won’t stop,” Berg gently added.
“She will if I kill her. But then that would make any future family reunions awfully uncomfortable.”
“More uncomfortable than they already have been?”
Charlie thought for a moment. “You know . . . that’s a very good point.”
chapter NINE
Stevie was happy to be back at the Sports Center. She loved it. The energy. The people.
Of course, the last time they’d been here it had been a bit of a whirlwind. There’d been so much excitement. Drama. Violence. And none of it had had anything to do with their father, which had been so refreshing! Because usually drama and violence had everything to do with their father.
They cut through what Kyle called “the boring part of the Center,” where all the normal, everyday sports things happened with all the normal, everyday full-humans, and made their way to the backstairs that led down to the shifter-only part. That door was protected at all times by shifter security guards, but all you had to do to get through was pass the “smell test.” Something that entertained Stevie to no end, having complete strangers sniff her neck to decide whether she was worthy of entrance.
She’d already researched the scent capabilities of a multitude of animals; now she just needed to compare that information to their shifter counterparts because she really wanted to understand the true differences between the “full-blood” animals and an electrician who could shift into a sloth bear. Sadly, though, she couldn’t get anyone to agree to a few simple tests. Max especially became bitchy about it.
Of course, when people said no to Stevie, she didn’t then take them hostage and test them anyway. Because that was wrong and everyone knew it. Even arrogant fucks.
Stevie pushed thoughts of her ex out of her mind and focused on what she hoped would be a good day.
Their small group went down the stairs and through another door that led them to the very busy shifter sports center. It was early in the day but it was also summer so all the pups and cubs were there with their protective parents for classes and play groups that allowed them to work off their excess energy without worrying about harming their playmates. Something that couldn’t be guaranteed when the playmate was a full-human child.
Stevie was here to start some kind of exercise regime; she just wasn’t sure what kind yet. Kyle said the Sports Center had a great gym built “just for them,” so she was excited to see what kind of gym that was and what her options would be. Honestly, she was feeling so good at the moment, she was up for pretty much anything.
“So where do we start?” Kyle asked as Max split off from them and headed right for the Starbucks a few feet away.
“Breakfast?” Oriana asked.
“I think I’m supposed to eat after the exercise,” Stevie reasoned.
“Excellent point.”
“I just have to figure out what kind of exercise I should do.”
“What kind do you like?” Oriana asked.
“Nothing. I hate all forms of exercise. All of them.”
Oriana looked down at Stevie’s legs, which were bare except for her shorts.
“Good God, woman, you have absolutely no muscle tone.”
<
br /> “I have it.” Stevie pressed her finger against her thigh. “If you poke at it, you can feel it under the skin. Sort of.”
Oriana shook her head and took hold of Stevie’s shoulder. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“I’m going to help you,” Oriana said, her expression so sad. So earnest. “Because, really, girl. Somebody has to help you.”
* * *
Max stood in the endless Starbucks line, waiting to get in her order. She was dying for a honey macchiato, which was like a caramel macchiato but way, way better.
Bored after standing in line for more than three seconds, she pulled out her phone and began reading her texts. She had one from Dutch Alexander. He’d been staying with them since Max and her sisters had moved into the house in Queens, but a few days before he’d suddenly departed, leaving nothing behind but a note stuck to the fridge: “Don’t worry, Charlie. I’ll be back. Love you! Smooches!”
The note had made Max and Stevie laugh, but Charlie had snatched it off the refrigerator and set it on fire because their sister was nothing if not dramatic and vengeful.
Charlie didn’t hate Dutch as much as she liked to say she did, but one more fuckup and Max’s best friend might find himself buried somewhere in the MacKilligan backyard.
Max was sure that Dutch had gone off on a job. Now she understood his crazy life. He worked with the ones who protected all shifters, which made sense. More than once, when they were growing up, that good-natured idiot had put himself between Max and harm’s way. It was as if he couldn’t help himself, even though he knew better than anyone that Max didn’t need anyone’s protection. But that was just his way. He did it for others too. Not just for Max.
All through high school everyone kept expecting Max and Dutch to hook up. Charlie used to live in fear of it. They were close. But it took an awful kiss at a homecoming game to prove what Max and Dutch had already known, deep down. They were close like siblings, but never like lovers. They knew too much about each other. Like the time Max had gotten drunk on vodka and python venom. She hadn’t wanted Charlie to find out, so Dutch had taken her back to his family’s house. There, in his bathroom, she’d evacuated the poison and nearly everything else in her system from nearly every orifice. She was too sick to stop herself and too embarrassed to talk about it. But she didn’t have to talk about it. Dutch just cleaned up his bathroom and never mentioned it again.
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