Badger to the Bone

by Shelly Laurenston

  The full-humans walking down the street looked around—and up . . . which was just weird—in confusion at the sounds they heard, but Vargas immediately stopped running and those bright green eyes locked on her and the NYPD van.

  He ran toward them but the tiger lifted her up and threw her into the van. They slammed the doors closed and locked them, but they hadn’t bothered to secure Mads or the others to their seats since there were two grizzlies and three lions in the van with them, confident that so many trained apex predators could eventually dismantle four honey badgers.

  But, as a team, Mads and her friends had been playing against bears and cats for years, often communicating with nothing more than a look or a hiss. Using that look, Mads sent her teammates into immediate action.

  Streep stood up, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, and dead-dropped right there on the van floor. For added drama, she began convulsing.

  Nelle and Tock dropped to the ground beside her.

  “Help!” Nelle called out. “Help her! Dear God! Someone please help her!”

  One of the grizzles glanced down at Streep. “She’ll live,” he muttered.

  Streep immediately sat up. “I’ll live?”

  “Look at you. You’re already better.”

  Insulted—Streep had really been putting her all into that seizure—she snarled, “Shoes.”

  Nelle raised a brow. “Shoes?” They hadn’t used that code word since the last high school party they’d attended with the football team.

  “Shoes!”

  “Okay, okay. Shoes.”

  Streep and Nelle looked at Tock and, after a second, she sighed and agreed, “All right. Shoes.”

  Nelle, Tock, and Streep immediately launched themselves on the cops.

  They weren’t trying to kill anyone, sticking with general punching and hair pulling. Shifters or no, these were cops after all. Instead, their goal was distraction, allowing Mads to return to the back doors, unleash her claws, and tear a healthy rip into the metal. Using her hands to bend the metal back, she opened up a hole big enough to stick her head through so she could yell at Zé, “Chicken legs!”

  “What?” he yelled back, running after the van now that it had pulled out into traffic.

  “Chicken legs! One word! Three Zs and three fours. Two exclamation points! And an asterisk!”

  Strong hands grabbed Mads by the shoulders and yanked her back into the van.

  At that point, they were all secured to the benches and one of their NYPD captors snarled, “I told you not to make us regret being nice.”

  Nelle gave her sweetest smile and a shrug. “Oops.”

  When the cops stopped glaring at them, Nelle softly asked Mads, “What were you yelling?”

  “The password. For my phone.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “So he could get into my phone. It’s still in your apartment.”

  “Who are you expecting him to call?”

  “Max.”

  “He was with Max. She texted me and said they’d be coming over after he got his phone so we could all have lunch together. Did you see her with him?”

  Mads shook her head. “No. He was alone.” Which meant only one thing: Max had been picked up, too.

  “Well, he can still call someone who can help us,” Mads insisted. “At the very least get us some bail money.”

  “The only people he knows aside from us are MacKilligans. You know what that means.”

  “I only have Stevie’s number in my phone.”

  “But Stevie panics, and when she panics . . .”

  All four of them blew out breaths while Mads desperately hoped that Zé never found her phone.

  * * *

  Stevie rushed into the kitchen, where the lingering scent of honey buns still filled the air. She had to get into the city for a meeting with the ballet company and Kyle’s sister, Oriana. A ballerina prodigy, Oriana was about to get her chance at a lead role in a ballet with music written by Stevie. Something that Stevie had offered just to help Oriana out; it had never occurred to her that it was as big a deal as it was turning into. She’d already gotten calls from major media outlets asking about her “return to music.”

  They were all acting as if Stevie was giving up her scientific work but she hadn’t. In fact, she was taking over the lab of her ex-boyfriend’s brother, who had kidnapped her and tried to remove her ability to shift. He’d “disapproved” of hybrids and, in his mind, Stevie represented the potential horror of what a hybrid could be. As if it was her fault that when she shifted into her animal form she became a tiger-striped honey badger that weighed more than two tons. “More than two tons” since she’d recently discovered she’d put on weight, which wouldn’t normally bother her except that she’d also noticed her shifted form had gotten bigger, too . . .

  That was starting to freak her out. But instead of focusing on something she definitely had no control over, she decided to focus on her new lab and the ballet. Two very positive things! Her life was currently full of positive things! She was in love with the sweetest panda ever—and, oh, my God! He loved her back—her music was flowing out of her the way it used to when she worked on it daily as a kid, and going through the files she’d found in the lab had been fascinating. As well as terrifying. Her predecessor had been brilliant but he’d also been a sick motherfucker. That’s why she didn’t feel guilty for biting him in half.

  Her phone rang and she pulled it out of the back of her jeans pocket. She looked down at the screen and frowned at seeing Mads’s name.

  “That’s weird,” she muttered, about to answer the call. But then...

  “Stevie? Is that you?”

  Stevie turned and saw a honey badger female standing near her back door. A honey badger she didn’t know. With a panicked scream, she flipped herself up and caught hold of the ceiling with her claws.

  The honey badger gazed up at her. “Huh. Max never told me you could do that.”

  Stevie blinked, retracted her fangs. She might not recognize the face but the voice . . . she’d heard that voice a few times through Max’s cell phone.

  “Renny?”

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  Stevie now retracted her claws and easily landed on the ground. “Renny? Is that you?”

  “I know. A little older. My ass is a little bigger. But it’s me.”

  Stevie threw her arms around Renny and hugged her.

  “I’m so happy to see you! Have you seen Max yet?”

  “No. Not yet. I was hoping she’d be here.”

  “She went out, but she’ll be back later.” Stevie stepped away from Max’s mother. “They let you out early? That’s wonderful! I thought you had a few more years to go.”

  One side of Renny’s mouth curled up and Stevie saw her sister in that smirk. Then she knew. She knew!

  “Oh, Renny . . . you escaped, didn’t you?”

  Renny shrugged. “I had to get rid of Devon. He was a threat to my baby.”

  “I understand that but . . . I mean . . . wait . . . you’ve already killed someone? How long have you been out?”

  “A few days.”

  Stevie pressed her fingers to her temples and tried, very hard, to remain calm.

  “Renny, you can’t stay here.”

  “I’m not leaving until I see my baby.”

  “Your baby is a grown woman who could go to prison for harboring a fugitive. Which you are. You’re a fugitive and I’m not letting my sister go to prison for you.”

  “Sweetie, I get it. I’m not trying to cause a problem for any of you guys, but—”

  “And if Charlie finds you here . . .”

  “Charlie loves me.”

  “Wow . . . you have been gone for a very long time.”

  Stevie heard the front door open and her sister and Shen coming into the house. Shen had gone with Charlie to help deliver all those damn honey buns.

  Her sister was heading down the hallway toward the kitchen so Stevie did the only thing she co
uld think of: she shoved Max’s mother down the stairs that led to the back door.

  A few seconds later, Charlie walked in with empty foil containers.

  “Hey,” she said, tossing the containers into the sink. “Everything okay?”

  “Ummm . . .”

  Charlie faced her. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Stevie lied, wondering how she was going to tell her overprotective sister that there was a fugitive in their house. But before she had time to say anything, her phone rang. It was Mads again.

  “Stevie—”

  “Sorry. I have to get this.” She answered the phone but was shocked to hear Zé’s voice on the other end.

  “Wait. Slow down, Zé. What’s happened?”

  Shen entered the kitchen, and what she was hearing from Zé must have shown on her face because her boyfriend stopped in the doorway and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  She held up a finger so she could hear the rest of what Zé had to say.

  “Okay,” she finally replied. “Give me your new phone number and I’ll set up an account under it. I’ll send you some cash so you can get a car and meet us there.”

  She frowned and repeated, “Max doesn’t want you to tell Charlie?”

  Stevie lifted her gaze. Her sister stood right in front of her, only a few inches away.

  “Oh. Uhhhh . . .”

  Charlie took the phone. “What’s going on?” When Charlie apparently didn’t hear anything, she said, “Zé, don’t make me angry.”

  Stevie moved her position a bit, hoping that Charlie hadn’t spotted Max’s mother. Of course, there was always the risk that Renny might just come out of that little staircase to say “hey.” The She-badger didn’t seem to understand boundaries.

  Charlie reached into one of the cabinet drawers and pulled out a notepad and pen. She jotted down the number Zé gave her and handed it to Stevie.

  “Okay. Yes. We know where that is. I don’t care that she didn’t want you to tell me, Zé. I’ll handle this.”

  Charlie disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Stevie. “Send him money and a car, but bring him back here.” From the table, she picked up her small backpack, which held her wallet, phone, and a .45 Glock. Stevie grabbed the bag and wouldn’t let go until Charlie gave her the gun. Of course, Charlie probably had a gun holstered to both her legs but at least they wouldn’t be easy to get to.

  “I’ll go with you,” Stevie said.

  “No. You and Shen stay here.”

  “But, Charlie—”

  “I will handle this.”

  Nope. Stevie didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “Charlie, promise me you won’t kill anyone.” When her sister’s response was to give a cold laugh, Stevie stepped closer and insisted, “I mean it. Do not kill anyone. Not over this. You have to promise.”

  “I warned them—”

  “I know. But now they’ve involved cops. You can get away with a lot, but you can’t get away with killing cops. And besides, it wouldn’t be right. So promise me.” Charlie’s jaw clenched because she didn’t want to promise that, but Stevie wasn’t backing down. “Promise me or I start screaming.”

  Still Charlie didn’t answer so Stevie stomped her foot and roared, shaking the windows throughout the entire house.

  “Okay, okay!” Charlie barked. “I won’t kill anyone. Today.”

  Hell, that was more than Stevie had actually hoped for, but she didn’t hug her sister, simply said, “Cool.”

  Charlie stormed out and Stevie waited until the front door slammed shut before letting out the breath she’d been holding in.

  “Why do I smell strange honey badger?” Shen asked, plopping a bag of bamboo onto the table.

  Dusting herself off, Max’s mother returned from her spot near the back door. Stevie swept her hand toward her and said, “Shen . . . this is Renny, Max’s mom. Renny, this is my boyfriend, Shen.”

  “Wow!” he said happily. “Max’s mom! It’s so nice to . . . wait . . .” His happiness quickly faded. “Aren’t you in prison? For, like, another five or ten years?”

  When Stevie silently folded her arms over her chest and Renny just smiled that smile that told everyone she was Max’s mom, Shen simply faced forward, grabbed a bamboo stalk, and began eating.

  Considering the current situation, it was the safest thing he could do.

  chapter FOURTEEN

  Max looked around the conference room of the NYPD shifter division. She was surrounded by crystal-clear reinforced glass, so she could see everything going on. At one point, she looked into the office next door. Inside were a woman and two males she didn’t recognize, and Dee-Ann Smith. Her absolute favorite wolf to torture!

  As soon as their eyes locked, Max put on her biggest grin and happily waved at Dee-Ann with her zip-tied hands.

  The men and woman laughed as Dee-Ann snarled and looked away from her.

  Yup. Her favorite person to torture!

  Before she could lower her bound hands, one of the cops grabbed them.

  “These were behind your back.”

  “Were they?” she asked.

  He released her and snarled, “Fucking badgers.” Then he stormed away, leaving her alone.

  About thirty minutes later, Max was shocked to see her teammates dragged in. Why were they here? They hadn’t done anything.

  Each of them was led to a chair and pushed into it by a much bigger uniformed shifter. Then the cops left and a new team came in. They were all dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts, each with a single holstered firearm, but none of them had badges, so they weren’t detectives Max would expect. She was always interrogated by detectives—at least in major American cities. In other countries, it varied.

  After the five of them were seated and the very large, unidentified shifters were comfortably situated around the room . . . nothing. For at least forty-five minutes. Max wasn’t exactly shocked, though. It was an interrogation move. Keep the perp waiting in the hopes that he or she would get worked up and reveal all when the cops entered the room. Although the police outside the room, the ones Max could see through the glass, didn’t seem the least bit interested in them. When a few did notice, they just appeared confused by what was going on. Probably because the NYPD had other rooms that were used specifically for interrogation. So why were she and her team here? In this big glass room? And who were their guards? Max didn’t recognize any of them.

  Eventually, while Max was wondering if she could jump out the window and fly—she wasn’t planning on doing that, but she did enjoy wondering what it was like to fly—three males entered the room along with a black woman who looked familiar to her.

  “Hello, ladies,” the lion male said. “I’m Benjamin.”

  “Benji!”

  The lion smirked before correcting Streep. “Benjamin.” He gestured to a grizzly. “This is Oliver.” Then pointed at the shifter beside him, whose animal scent Max didn’t recognize. “And this is Bryan.”

  “Benji, Ollie, and Bri!” Streep cheered.

  The three men glared at her but the lion quickly continued. “Anyway, I know you’re wondering why you all have been brought here and—”

  Tock pointed at the black woman, who was now quietly sitting in a corner, drinking from a large travel cup. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Imani. She’s here to observe.”

  “Why didn’t you introduce her? Are you dismissing her very presence because she’s a woman?”

  Uh-oh. Tock was putting on what the entire team called her “Feminist Warrior Wear—trademark pending.”

  Unfortunately, Tock always seemed to aim her anger-spears at the wrong targets.

  “Can I go on?” Benji asked.

  Poor kid. He’d only spent three minutes around them and already he was annoyed. Imani, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

  Max remembered her now. She lived a few streets over, in lion territory. She’d been there when Max was trying to protect Zé.<
br />
  “Please,” Nelle said, flashing her award-winning smile and ingrained old-money politeness. “Go on.”

  “As I was saying,” Benji began, “I know you’re all wondering what you’re doing here and—”

  “Ohhhh, shit,” Mads breathed out, cutting the cat off, and Max saw the color drain from her teammate’s face.

  As one, they all looked at the front of the room through the glass and Max immediately realized that things had just gone to shit.

  * * *

  Dez watched Smitty pull back a bit.

  “Do y’all see that?” Smitty said in his Tennessean drawl. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a honey badger show fear.”

  “Who is that?” Mace asked, enjoying the bag of popcorn he’d brought with him. Dez had invited him and his best friend, Smitty, because she sensed there would be drama and her hubby, lion male that he was, did love drama that he was not involved in. Smitty had also brought along his cousin Dee-Ann, but unlike the boys, she saw the woman standing outside the conference room and instantly shook her head, pulling out her phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Smitty asked.

  “Everybody,” she muttered.

  An answer that Dez found particularly disturbing.

  * * *

  Apparently Zé hadn’t understood her command not to call her sister. Because here Charlie was, gazing at them with a completely blank expression on her face from outside the room.

  Benji stupidly motioned her in with a twitch of his hand and Charlie slowly entered. She didn’t speak, just looked at everything. Sizing it up, figuring it out, judging and preparing.

  “You must be the big sister, huh?” Benji asked. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Benjamin and—”

  “Oh, my God!” Tock suddenly snapped. “Just get on with it! You are taking way too much time with this.”