“Really?” Stevie demanded, still pinning her hysterically laughing sister to the floor.
Charlie, shaking her head, stepped close and snatched the blade from Livy’s hand.
“She’s family, dick-ass!”
Stevie couldn’t help but scrunch up her face, and then she saw that Max had done that too.
“I think you meant dumb-ass,” Max suggested.
“Probably. Let’s just let it lie.”
“Yeah, but why would you even come up with—”
“Let it lie!” Charlie tossed the blade onto the kitchen table. “What’s up, Livy?”
Livy, completely unfazed by her cousin, said to Max, “Call your mother.” She slapped a piece of paper on the table and walked out without another word.
“You haven’t called your mother?” Charlie asked.
“Well, with all the shit that’s been going on . . . and I forgot to give her my new number.” She pushed at Stevie. “Get off me.”
Unlike Stevie, Max adored her mother and had lawyers in Belgium working on appeals to get her out of prison. They kept in touch through letters, emails, and the occasional phone smuggled behind bars.
Stevie scrambled off her sister so Max could grab the piece of paper her cousin had left and quickly call her mother. Charlie was busy checking out whatever she’d put in the oven, so Stevie squeezed between Shen and the enormous hybrid blocking her kitchen door, biting back her squeal of panic at the mere sight of the man. She’d met him before, but she couldn’t remember his name to save her life.
She charged through the dining room and living room and caught up with Livy on the porch.
“Hey!” she said, forcing a smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Livy asked. “What are you doing with your face?”
“I’m trying to smile.”
“Stop it.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“I don’t want to talk about the fact that Max came at me with a knife . . . again.”
“This has nothing to do with Max.”
“Oh.” Livy shrugged. “Yeah, okay. What’s up?”
Stevie took hold of Livy’s arm and led her away from the house.
As they moved down the street together, Stevie said, “This may be a weird request—” And immediately Livy began to chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“If you knew my family, you’d know why that statement was funny.”
Stevie stopped, glanced back at the house. They seemed to be alone. “I need you to break into a lab.”
Livy didn’t react. She just kept staring at her, waiting for her to finish.
“I think the scientist who runs it is up to some very bad things involving hybrids. I don’t think he’s doing those things there. In that lab. It’s right in the heart of New York City, and that would be stupid. But I think we can find his second lab by going into his first.”
More staring.
“I was never trained . . . to do that . . . sort of thing. I was going to ask Max, but if she tells Charlie . . .”
“Are you saying people are dying because of these very bad things being done?”
“Possibly. Yeah.” And Stevie hated the way her voice cracked when she said that.
“Huh. Well, I don’t really do that sort of work anymore.”
“I know. I know. I’ve seen your photography. It’s powerful. Which means you don’t need to do this work anymore. It’s just—”
“Let me finish. I don’t do that sort of work anymore, but the man I love is a hybrid. And my idiot cousin’s sisters are hybrids. And you two . . . I like. So, yeah. I’ll do it.”
Stevie threw her arms open, but Livy’s hands immediately went up, blocking her.
“I don’t really hug. I’m not a hugger.”
“Right. Sorry. Forgot.”
“So when do you need me to do this?”
“As soon as you can.”
“What about you?”
Stevie grinned. “You want me to come? How excit—”
“No. I want you to have an alibi.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help but pout a little. “Fair enough.” She thought a moment. “I’ve got to go to a funeral tomorrow morning.”
“That might be a little too soon. I still need to research the place.”
“Right, right. Well, tomorrow night I have to somehow drag my sisters to something called a Wild Dog Night with Jess Ward and her Pack.”
Livy started laughing. Not a chuckle. A full-blown laugh that had Stevie greatly concerned.
“What?” she asked, becoming extremely worried. “What is so funny?”
* * *
The phone rang and Max pinned the cat she’d found lounging in her bed to the floor and used her free hand to answer.
“What?”
The cat slashed her claws across Max’s arm, forcing her to release the animal. The little shit!
“Hey, baby.”
Despite the pain, Max smiled because she recognized the gravelly voice that did not seem as if it should belong to a five-foot, one inch Chinese spitfire who could rob a man blind, punch his lights out, and steal his girlfriend all in the same day.
“Hey, Ma. Are you okay?”
Max had called her mother several times on the number her cousin had given her, but there had been no answer. Cell phones in prison, in any country, could come and go, so she hadn’t left a message but had hoped her mother would manage to get her newest phone number. It seemed she had, but it was strange that her mother had gone to the trouble to track her down.
“I’m fine, baby. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” No one ever worried about Max.
“Devon’s out, baby. He’s out. And he wants his shit.”
“What makes Devon think I have it?”
When her mother didn’t reply, Max exploded, “That motherfucker!” Max began pacing. “Why, Ma? Why? You could have had anybody. Any man. I would still be a Yang. I’d still be a honey badger. But you picked him.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Being with your father might have been a mistake, but you, my beautiful, beautiful girl never were. Ya understand?”
Max closed her eyes. “I understand.”
“Good.”
“And I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Ma. And if you hear from Devon again or if you hear from any of his hench-idiots . . . tell them the last person they should come at right now is me. There’s a lot of shit going on here, and if they get in my way, I will make them regret it.”
Renny Yang’s brutal chuckle growled across their connection. “That’s my girl.”
“Always, Ma. Always.”
chapter NINETEEN
It was the third Exorcist movie that upset the Dunn triplets the most. Shen sat next to them while they jumped and growled and sat curled in the corner of the couch, looking a little green. That had been Dag specifically.
Shen was worried that having three panicked grizzles this close would freak out Stevie, but she was sitting on the floor by Charlie’s feet, eating popcorn and dark chocolate M&M’s, and laughing. All three of the sisters were laughing hard, thoroughly enjoying the horror unfolding on the big-screen TV in front of them.
It became evident that they really loved horror movies. All of them. They cheered. They tried to scare each other. They especially loved to laugh. Not a typical laugh either. They each had their own versions of what they referred to as a “demonic laugh,” and all of them were disturbing.
When the final film was over, Charlie asked, “What do you want to watch now?”
It was after midnight but none of them appeared tired. Still . . .
“What about Suspiria?” Stevie suggested.
“No,” Shen immediately said.
“Why not?”
“My sisters made me watch that when I was ten. I’m not sitting through that shit again.”
Max smirked. “Was it the maggots?”
“Whe
n that chick fell in the spiral wires?” Charlie asked.
Stevie crinkled up her nose. “The music?”
“What happened to the blind guy?” Max continued.
“All of it!” Shen barked.
“Can we just watch something not horrifying?” Berg begged.
“Like what?”
“Anything,” all the bears in the room said at the same time.
Charlie laughed. “Okay, okay. How about John Wick?”
“Yeahhhh!” the bears cheered. Happy for some regular ol’ violence and revenge without the vomiting and head spin.
While Charlie went through her streaming collection to find the movie, the rest of them took bathroom breaks, got more junk food and drink, or simply stretched.
Kyle came back to the living room with a sandwich big enough to choke a rhino. The grizzlies saw it and quickly made their way into the kitchen to build their own sandwiches.
“Found your phone,” Kyle said between bites, tossing the device onto the table.
“Where did I leave it?”
“Bathroom.”
Shen swiped the phone off the table and sat on the floor, his back against the couch, to check his messages. A few from his sisters forwarding the latest ridiculous video or horrifying news story that always seemed to involve murder and Florida, but that was it.
Stevie came back into the room, but instead of returning to her spot by her sister, she came around the coffee table and sat down in front of Shen. He spread his legs so she could settle between them, and she rested her head against his shoulder so his jaw pressed against her temple.
What he really appreciated, though, was that no one said anything about it. No one even looked at them.
Then those behemoth dogs came in. The male went one way around the table, and the female came around the other. They sat down next to Shen and the male placed his massive head on Shen’s left shoulder and the female on his right.
“Should I find this concerning?” he asked Stevie.
“They’re just protective of me,” she said. “And they haven’t quite figured you out yet.”
Shen looked over at the triplets sitting on the couch behind him. “Do you three have any control over these—”
“Nope,” Berg replied.
“Out, you two,” Charlie calmly ordered as she reached over and took half of the sandwich Berg offered her.
And with that, the dogs walked out of the living room and into the front room. The front door was closed, preventing the canines from returning to the Dunn house. Shen assumed they would sleep on the floor or one of the couches, which worked fine for him. Since he didn’t appreciate being threatened by dogs. No matter their size.
* * *
The gun fight scene in the Russian-owned club was a couple of minutes away when Max again heard the scratch coming from upstairs. She rubbed a spot between her brows with her forefinger, allowing her to glance at her sisters without their noticing.
Worried that a raccoon or a squirrel had made its way into the house, Max got up.
“Where are you going?” Stevie asked, looking awfully comfortable cuddled up to her panda bear that way. And Shen didn’t seem to mind, no matter how much he bitched. “Gunfight at the club.”
“I’ll be back. And it’s not like I haven’t seen it ten thousand times.”
Max stepped over Charlie’s legs.
If a squirrel had made it into the house, she wanted to get rid of it before either of her sisters knew. Stevie was bad enough with her panic over all things that, according to her, “skittered.” But Charlie was even worse. She hated, hated, hated vermin. And that’s what she called them all. Whether rat, raccoon, squirrel, or possum, they were all vermin to her, and if she found any in her house, she flipped out. Calling a mere exterminator would not be good enough for the eldest MacKilligan sister. After the exterminator came the professional cleaners. The specialists that handle toxic cleanups. And, of course, getting rid of all the furniture because Charlie would worry that one of the “vermin” had left their “disgusting offspring” somewhere.
Max wasn’t about to go through all that if she could help it. So she’d track the little fucker down and get it out of the house without either of her sisters knowing.
Quietly heading up the stairs, Max occasionally paused to listen for more sounds. She inched closer and closer until she neared Stevie’s room. That’s when she began to worry it wasn’t rodent vermin that was scratching away in the walls. But something worse.
Dad vermin.
Growling softly, she made her way down the hall until she reached her sister’s room. The door was partially open and she eased inside without touching it.
“Dad?” she called out softly. “Dad, are you in here?”
She sniffed the air, trying to locate his scent. Hoping this time he hadn’t doused himself in cheap cologne like the last time she’d found him lurking in her baby sister’s bedroom, trying to steal what wasn’t his.
“If I have to track you down, you motherfucker, I will—”
The leather strap wrapped around her throat, tightening before she could even react.
She reached back but her head was slammed hard into the solid metal bedpost, twice, and she was dragged to the ground.
That’s when legs came over her shoulders, trapping her arms just as the leather strap was pulled tighter.
Smooth skin against her cheek and a soft voice with a lilting Scottish accent hissed out, “Hello, cousin. Our aunties send their best.”
* * *
The gunfight on the TV was going strong when suddenly there was a moment of silence. The hero had just gone over the balcony and hit the floor, and around the same time Stevie heard a thud from upstairs. She looked over to where Max had been sitting earlier. She’d gone upstairs but she hadn’t come back.
There was another thud and Stevie moved her gaze to Charlie. Their eyes locked for a split second. Then the dogs ran through and Charlie jumped up, following them. Stevie was right behind her.
“Hey!” she could hear the bears calling out behind them. “What’s going on?”
But they didn’t wait. They just ran. When Charlie hit the landing on the second floor, they heard growls and barks as the dogs tried to scratch their way past the bedroom door.
“Move!” Charlie ordered and the dogs ran back behind Stevie.
Charlie kicked the door in and Stevie stood on the other side of her sister.
Max was by the window seat, a leather strap around her throat. Their cousin Mairi was behind her, her muscular legs over Max’s shoulders. She was leaning back, putting more pressure on the strap around Max’s throat, while keeping Max’s arms pinned.
“Hello, cousins!” Mairi called when she saw them.
Charlie’s hands curled into fists and, growling from deep in her throat, she barked, “Stevie!”
Stevie charged past Charlie and into the bedroom. She launched herself from the dressing table, her feet hitting the wall and sending her over to the tall dresser. She bounced off that and up, attaching herself to the ceiling with her claws and running over to where her sister and Mairi were.
As she moved, so did Charlie, storming across the room with her own claws and fangs unleashed, slamming into the attacking honey badger and pinning her to the base of the window seat. Her claws fastened on either side of Mairi, her fangs snapping at her face.
Distracted, Mairi didn’t realize Stevie had dropped down and slashed her claws against the leather straps.
Coughing and gasping, Max fell forward and into Stevie’s arms. Stevie dragged her sister away as the dogs viciously attacked their cousin, going at her as hard as Charlie was.
Once Stevie had Max a safe distance away, she started back toward the fight, but she’d barely gotten a few feet when arms went around her and pulled her to the ground just as she heard Britta scream from the doorway, “Gun!”
Three shots rang out, followed by a surprised yelp. But not from Stevie’s sisters. Or the bears. Or
even Kyle.
“No,” Stevie gasped, pushing Shen’s arms off her. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” she begged as she ran across the room, sliding the last few feet on her knees until she stopped at Benny’s side. He was panting hard, blood coming from his side.
Slowly, Stevie looked up from the dog to the cold eyes of her cousin.
A smile on her face, Mairi said, “Guess I missed.”
* * *
As soon as Shen realized that the dog had been shot, he was speeding across the room, trying to get to Stevie. But he was too slow.
She shot up and dove at Mairi, the pair breaking through the front window and out of the house.
He immediately turned and charged out of the room, down the hall and the stairs. As he tore through the living room, he heard Kyle yelling after him, “What is going on?”
He ignored the kid, assuming he could take care of himself, and ran to the front door.
It was late, but the local bears loved to wander around the neighborhood at night, in their bear forms, indulging in honey and chasing nocturnal animals. The ones who weren’t out, who were sleeping soundly, would still hear those shots. And they would all move, all be outside.
They would see everything.
Shen made it out of the house, down the stairs, and over the fence that went around the yard.
Stevie was on top of the She-badger, her hands around her throat, choking the hell out of her. But it wasn’t doing anything. This was a badger, and she was smiling. That’s why they were both still alive and conscious after going out of a second-story window and tumbling to the ground.
As Shen neared her, he heard the weird cat sound Stevie made just before she shifted, and her head come up, her eyes a bright and angry gold.
“Stevie, no!” he called out, already feeling the local bears lumbering closer and closer. “Don’t do it, baby! Don’t do it!”
He knew what his words sounded like to the bears. Like he was telling her not to kill the badger. But he could give a shit about that badger. The badger was not his concern.
“Pull it back, baby. Pull it back.”
Stevie’s head turned and she looked directly at him, her fangs not fully out, but already past her bottom lip, her panting so harsh she was salivating. Abruptly, her gaze moved behind him, and he knew she could see the bears.
In a Badger Way Page 24
