by R. J. Blain
According to my nose, as of last week, there were twenty single lycanthrope males, three of which were felines of some sort, sniffing around my turf trying to identify who the single lycanthrope female in the small town was.
Damned determined males, making a mess of my weekends and forcing me to sneak around to keep from drawing their attention.
Hissing at my shit luck, as I’d scare off any suitors the instant they caught sight of my disaster of a face, I put away my work headset, shut down the computer, and began preparing my home for a week or two away. I really hoped someone else wanted my hours.
An extra week might land me enough to put down a deposit to remove the scars that’d haunted me since childhood, the result of a fire at a camp for girls, the first and last time I’d gone away for the summer. I’d spent a month in the hospital, and the night that had almost ended my life had dumped me into a living hell I would soon be able to escape.
Unfortunately for me, I’d been too young for my lycanthropy virus to do me any good, and by the time it kicked into high gear, it believed my scars were natural and went out of its damned way to preserve them.
Sometimes, surgeons—or even the CDC—would accept a payment plan with a sufficient deposit for the work. It wouldn’t take much to convince someone my scars prevented me from leading a normal life. Then they’d have a challenge kicking my virus to the curb long enough to tear into my face, do a skin graft, and convince my body to avoid scarring.
Assuming my virus could be contained, the procedure took an hour or two. Had I not been infected with lycanthropy, it would have cost me a few hundred dollars and a day off work.
Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.
To my disgust, my surgeon thought he might cut the costs down to five hundred thousand or less, which I could afford, if I found myself a lycanthrope male willing to put up with me for life. After laying claim to a male, my virus would go into remission for a while to recover, which would allow the team needed to do the operation with minimal risk to them while also requiring less heavy-duty magic.
Or something like that. I’d tuned out most of the specifics about what a man might do to help with the procedure, as I had no intention of claiming a mate for such a reason. It seemed wrong to use a man to fix my face, so I dodged that whole problem by avoiding the males of my kind and making sure they didn’t get too close while sniffing around my territory.
In the wee hours of the morning, twenty minutes after I’d started tidying my home and packing my bags for the week, my cell rang. I checked the device to discover my father’s number. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, I answered, “Hi, Daddy.”
Calling him my daddy calmed him and his damned, overprotective virus—and tricked him into believing there wasn’t anything amiss. With how my life tended to go, if he’d rubbed his damned brain cells together with even a hint of vigor, he’d see through my bullshit.
My daddy was an idiot sometimes, but I loved him anyway.
“How is my little kitten this morning? I hope I didn’t wake you, but I wanted to catch you before you leave for your trip.”
“Pretty good,” I lied, grateful my father couldn’t sniff out the truth over the phone. “The boss is happy with me because I performed well on the phones today. I got an extra unpaid day tacked onto my vacation, too, so I’ll be out of town a little longer than planned. Please don’t panic while I’m enjoying my stay out of town.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, and I’ll make sure all of your brothers are aware. Will you be visiting us before you head off to your resort?”
I’d given myself two days to get to my destination, which I intended to use on scouting, as I had three good targets not far from the resort deep in the heart of Cincinnati, Ohio. “I could be talked into visiting, I suppose. Delaying for a few hours won’t change my drive much.”
“Your brothers have been whining.”
“Which ones? There are a lot of whiners in the family, Dad. Some days, you happen to be one of them.”
“Pretty much all of them. I’m definitely one of the whiners, and I’ll be very happy if my little kitten comes home for a visit. It’s been over a month.”
For fuck’s sake. In my planning, I hadn’t anticipated my entire family melting down because I dared to take a week off to go to a luxury spa—on my family’s dime, as a customer service representative couldn’t afford a stay at a resort or spa, let alone a luxury one. My father, through careful conning of my herd of brothers, had made them all contribute to my vacation, thus resulting in me staying somewhere nice rather than my initial plan to stay out on the streets while a lynx when I wasn’t doing my work. My stay at the resort pleased them—and gave me a good cover for being in Cincinnati for so long. “Which one hasn’t been whining? Put that one on the phone, please.”
“I suppose Jace has been whining the least. Hold on.” My father drew in a breath, and I held my cell away from my ear while he screeched for my younger brother. While I waited for the yowling to quiet, I checked my list of brothers.
Ah, right. Jace counted as the clan’s keeper of the peace, as nobody was brave enough to piss off the attorney who enjoyed making certain hardened criminals remained behind bars. Of my brothers, Jace would freak the most if he discovered his little kitten of a sister killed people for a living. It didn’t matter I’d been born three years before him. As the only girl of the lot, I would forever be the little kitten of the family.
Mom and Dad needed to have a litter with at least one girl so I wouldn’t be stuck as the little kitten forever.
The yowling stopped, and I returned the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Harri,” my brother greeted. “Looking forward to your vacation?”
“Yes, I am. For the record, I will resent if anyone prevents me from going on vacation.”
I needed an escape from customer service. I needed the money to fix my face. Another bad call at work would break me if I didn’t get out of town for a while. The first kill bounty I got my grubby paws on would be performed mercifully but with excessive force.
My virus needed an outlet before I went mad. After I had the scars removed, I’d worry about my other problems, which involved men. My virus wanted to open hunting season. If my virus had its way, the first poor bastard to turn my head would be stuck with me permanently.
If my brothers and father had their way, I would die a virgin.
If I ever got around to finding a mate, the battle between him and my family would be worth televising as a pay-per-view event. The poor man would need therapy upon learning how many brothers I had, who were all determined to keep me as safe as possible.
I didn’t make things easy on them.
Jace made a thoughtful sound in his throat. “We’re concerned.”
“About what? The hot tub rising up to get me? I’m going to a spa, not a cage match. I swear, can’t I go to a spa and pamper myself just once without the entire damned clan getting on my case? Okay, so fine. Driving there doesn’t please you worrywarts. Deal with it. And so help me, if one of you twerps talked to Uncle Henry, I’m going to come over there and kick every last one of you in the ass and steal your lunch money.”
“Otis is the one who talked to Uncle Henry,” my brother confessed.
Damn it. I couldn’t beat one of the kittens. Not only were the quintuplets wretchedly adorable, they did a good job of distracting everyone in the family from my general activities, as they redefined trouble whenever there wasn’t an adult keeping them somewhat tame and behaving. “Who conned him into doing it? He’s four. And yes, I’m coming for your lunch money, so you feline assholes better have cash in your wallets when I show up, you hear me? You’ll have between one to two hours before I show up, and I will be mugging you all for your lunch money.”
“Mom did it.”
“Traitor!” my mother screeched in the background.
I sighed. There were worse fates. My mother could have started making calls to one of the other lynx clans trying to sell me o
ff to the highest bidder. Every year, at least one clan came calling, resulting in a cat fight that made the news and amused the neighbors. The neighbors, uninfected humans with heightened levels of curiosity, loved everything about my psychotic family.
They loved cats, one and all. The old man who lived in the little brick house with the white picket fence down the lane had us figured out; catnip and milk would bring everyone except me out, and lynxes high on nip didn’t mind when bold humans petted them.
My family consisted entirely of shameless, attention-whoring assholes.
I braced for the worst, which involved me cancelling my trip due to my uncle’s offended sensibilities. “And what did Uncle Henry have to say?”
“The spa you picked in Cincinnati is shit, we’re terrible brothers, and that we should have sent you to Hawaii to be pampered like the princess you are. He’s not wrong, but now the entire family is having a mass conniption because we didn’t send you to Hawaii.”
Right. Only a fool would think virus-driven cats would be capable of handling the situation with grace or dignity. “First, I don’t want to go to Hawaii. I want to go to Cincinnati. I picked that spa because they’re friendly towards lycanthropes, they have a world-class chef, and it’s all inclusive. I can get my fur groomed however many times I want, and they only have mated pairs on staff or married humans. I will be able to enjoy my vacation without being bothered.”
“I did try to tell Uncle Henry that, as you’d fought with Dad over your choice of spa and city. He doesn’t believe us.”
“Is Uncle Henry there?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. He is.”
“Tell Uncle Henry if he interrupts my vacation to Cincinnati, I will rip out all of his fur, send it to an unmated female wolf, and write her a note telling her that he’s a hot, single man seeking a brave, fearless woman.”
“Has anyone told you that you can be pretty evil when someone tries to screw around with your plans?”
“Not recently,” I admitted.
“That’s goes beyond mean to pretty damned evil, sis. I just thought I should warn you he might like that.”
Ugh. Lycanthropes. “Please use your legal degree for something useful, like convincing Uncle Henry I am going on the vacation I want rather than the one he wants. And I’m still coming over and stealing your lunch money, so if you could leave your wallets out, with cash easily accessible, so I don’t have to waste too much time digging through them all, I would appreciate it.”
My brother growled at me. “You’re not stealing our lunch money.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I will be over soon, and so help me, if there isn’t lunch money in all your wallets, I will be sinking my claws into your ass. You got me, dipshit?”
Without waiting for an answer, I hung up. Delaying two or three hours wouldn’t do jack shit to my schedule, and if my jerk family had wanted to keep their money, they wouldn’t have pushed my damned buttons.
Two
You’d probably find that thing’s older brother and adopt it.
Any other day, I might’ve put in the time and effort to hide my scars with makeup. Makeup offended my family, who did their best to convince me my scars weren’t that bad, and they hated when I added a layer of junk to my face in an effort to make it disappear. It would take me an hour to become presentable and disguise myself for my hunt, but I’d get a few hours of driving under my belt first.
An hour and a half after talking to my father and brother, I pulled into the driveway of my parent’s farmhouse, muttering curses over the twenty-some cars in my way. I parked at the end of the line, heaved a sigh, and hiked to the front door, where my father waited on the porch swing.
“I knew I should’ve banned you getting your license. You’re now driving off and doing things on your own. That’s simply unacceptable.”
I flipped my father off. “I’m too damned old for that crap, Daddy.”
“You’ll always be my little kitten, and I don’t care you’re thirty-three. You’re still my baby. You’re a baby with a piece of shit car, though. I’m starting to think you need to go beat your brothers for more than just their lunch money. They should be contributing to your new car fund.”
I turned and regarded my vehicle with a sigh. It had seen better days, and North Dakota’s winters hadn’t treated the damned thing well. The rust had tripled since I’d purchased it, and none of my precautions spared it from the salt and seasons. “I can get my own car, Dad.”
“I’m sure you can, but you’d probably find that thing’s older brother and adopt it.”
Would my car’s older brother consist of anything other than rust? I gave that some thought. “I have to go mug my brothers for lunch money. I’m going to go treat myself to something nice on the way to Cincinnati. When I get to Cincinnati, I will be pampered at a spa without anyone invading the spa to bother me. Am I clear, Daddy?”
“You should leave your car with me and take mine. I make no promises your vehicle will survive its vacation.”
Considering I had plans for bloodied bodies to take up precious space in my trunk, there was no way in hell I could use Dad’s truck.
Or could I? If I took Dad’s truck, I could have the bed cleaned in record time, and he wouldn’t have a clue I used it for my legalized murder sprees. “The truck?”
“That’s not fair, Harri. You can’t have my truck. You can take my car, but you can’t have the truck. It’s new.”
Yes, it was. Not only had he gotten it new, he’d been proud of every bell and whistle he’d gotten on it. I could run over my targets and not feel a thing with how many horses lurked in its engine. “Truck.”
“Car.”
“Truck.”
“Car.”
I flexed my hands and fought the urge to indulge in a partial shift and swipe at my stubborn father. “Either I’m taking your truck or my car. There is no room for negotiation.”
“Yes, there is. The car is new, too.”
Wait. Dad had a new car? I turned around, frowning at the selection of vehicles, pointing at the Camry he’d bought a few years ago. “The Camry is right there, Dad.”
“I gave it to one of your brothers, so that is no longer mine.”
My family hated me. That was all there was to it. They hated me and wanted to deny me happiness. That is the only way one of my brothers without a car, all of whom were younger than me, would get dibs on the Camry. “Wait, I have that piece of shit junker, and you gave one of my wretched brothers the Camry? Come on, Dad. How is that even fair?”
“Would you have accepted the Camry if I had offered it to you?”
I thought about that. “Maybe.”
“Don’t you make me turn you over my knee and spank you for lying, little kitten.”
Damn. “I’m telling the truth! Mine’s got more rust than paint now.”
“Milo? Give your sister the Camry, and I’ll take you to the used dealership and sign your soul over to a salesman,” my father hollered.
I sighed. “Just loan me the truck, Daddy.”
Milo, one of the fraternal triplets from my parents’ thirteenth litter, opened the front door and popped his head out. “I don’t want to sign my soul over to a salesman, Dad. Harri doesn’t even like Toyotas. Give her the truck if you don’t want her driving her piece of shit.”
Damn. My little brother was on a roll. “How’d you talk Dad out of the Camry, squirt?”
“I begged and promised to share with Miles and Maurice, and we promised we’d share a place until we’re twenty-one. To sweeten the deal for our old man, we also promised if we got into any trouble, we’d call, even if it meant we had to ask for help with the rent.”
Hah. That would make my parents happy, as they’d done too good of a job raising us to be independent. “Tell Daddy I won’t get mad if my car has an incident while I’m gone if he loans me the truck.”
“Hey, old man. Harri will ignore if you fix her car pro
blems, if you loan her the truck for the next week or two. She’s got to go get girly things done to her, and according to our research, she might come back to us as a lady if we leave her about her business. She’s going to a city ripe with single lycanthropes. Maybe she’ll bring back one she likes.”
“Absolutely not,” my father announced.
“It’s a wolf town, Milo. I don’t want no damned wolf.” My virus hated wolves with a passion, and even if I shacked up with one, the poor male would suffer from rejection for years to come. “My virus likes cats, thank you.”
“Your virus doesn’t like anybody,” my father muttered.
Well, my virus had an unhealthy interest in a bastard of a lion I sometimes ran into while working, but I went out of my way to avoid Sebastian. He roared. I purred. I purred whenever he roared, which meant my virus goaded me into making him roar, and whenever we entered the same room, fur flew. As far as enemies went, I could do worse, but who the hell wanted a CDC liaison breathing down their neck all the time? Last I checked, Sebastian worked with Interpol and one of the international drug organizations to put an end to the nastier drug trades.
While I kept my activities legal, I didn’t need a damned lion poking his nose in my business. It tested me enough as it was that the CDC sometimes assigned him to some of my harder jobs.
I had a strict no-lion policy.
I just liked making the poor bastard roar from frustration. It pleased my virus. I also enjoyed having excuses to purr, and a lion’s roar masked the sounds of my purrs, as I had a reputation to maintain.
“Be nice to Harri, Dad. Just give her the keys to your truck.”
“I offered the car,” our father complained.
Milo frowned, he narrowed his eyes, and he took his sweet time thinking about it. “You might want to take the car, Harri.”
What the hell kind of car had my father gotten? “Why?”
