The Mane Squeeze

by Shelly Laurenston

  “Tasty! Tasty! Tasty!”

  As they passed the section filled with her family and friends, she could see her mother applauding like crazy, tears streaming down her face, the Drs. MacRyrie clapping and waving at her, while Mitch and Brendon pumped their fists in the air and screamed her name like they were at a Bon Jovi concert. Hell, everyone in that section was going a little crazy.

  Except for one lone grizzly. He stood there, a center of calm with a wild dog sitting on his shoulders, howling with her Pack, and his best friend beside him calling out “Bravo!” But the bear was breathing, slowly, in and out, until he finally looked up, knowing her eyes were on him and him alone. And then he smiled. A smile filled with pride and love. She only saw it for a moment before her team marched her away to get their trophy, but it was enough.

  Hell, it was damn near everything.

  CHAPTER 30

  What started off as a big multiderby team party at one of the coolest clubs downtown quickly morphed into a Babes and friends–only party at a karaoke bar near wild dog territory.

  Lock would be eternally grateful, too. He’d always hated clubs and club people, while a karaoke bar was much more his speed as long as no one tried to make him sing.

  Wandering away from the table he pulled out his vibrating cell phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey. It’s Dee.”

  “Hey. You missed a great game.”

  “I saw it. It was great.”

  “You were there?”

  “Sitting three rows behind you. Didn’t you see me?”

  No. He hadn’t seen her there because she hadn’t been there, but Lock knew what Dee was doing. “Barely. I was busy, you know.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “Where are you now?” he asked.

  “Roaming.”

  “We moved locations, in case you plan on stopping by. We’re at a bar called Caleb’s Corner…or Caleb’s Deck…or Caleb’s something. It’s a karaoke bar.”

  The pause was long. “And you expect me to show up?”

  “Not really.”

  “Smart bear. But I’ll check in with you later.”

  “Okay.” Lock disconnected the call and put his phone back in his pocket. He turned around and stared down at the tiny kittens glaring up at him. “What?”

  “Who was that on the phone?” Mitch demanded.

  “Uh…Dee-Ann.”

  “You’re calling other women when you’re hooked up with my baby sister?”

  “But Dee-Ann’s my—”

  “I don’t care! You’re with my sister now, scumbag. And I may have promised Sissy I’d back off, but—” he motioned between him and Brendon “—don’t think for a second we’re going to let you get away with anything when it comes to our baby sister.”

  Dee shut off her phone completely and put it back into her front jean pocket. She took another glance around and popped the trunk on the old Ford she’d taken from a junkyard and managed to get running. She pulled the wolf out and placed him over her shoulder. Slamming the trunk closed, she headed to the nondescript door in the middle of the alley. She’d already picked the lock and now she went down the stairs deep into the bowels of the tunnels.

  Once she’d traveled as far down as she could, Dee stepped away from the stairs and lowered the body onto the floor. She crouched beside him.

  The wolf opened his eyes, glared up at her.

  “Names,” she said. The last one she’d said that to, the bar owner, he’d given her names of the dealers he got his product from. Of the ten names he listed, only one had been shifter. Only one had been Dee’s concern. The rest would be handled by others.

  Funny, this hadn’t been how this was supposed to go down, but in her line of work it was all about rolling with the unexpected. Like Lock MacRyrie. She’d been surprised when the road to Ross had led to one of the best friends she’d had in the military. For a brief moment, she’d thought about bringing him back into this life. They’d always been an excellent team. But, no. That wouldn’t do for the bear. He’d done his service to his country and his kind. Now he deserved exactly what he wanted: a deadly feline who liked to skate.

  And what did Dee deserve? Doing what she did best: Protecting her own and fixing problems. She was real good at fixing problems.

  “Names,” Dee said again when Jay didn’t answer her.

  He told her one name. It wasn’t easy for him. The doctors had had to wire his jaw shut and his head was covered in bandages from what Lock had done to him Halloween night. His face…not much better. Those were scars that wouldn’t fade. But he told her one name because he’d only sold one. One that had yet to be picked up. And that night at the party Ross was about to move from selling names to handling the product himself. Amazing what desperation would make a man forget—like how hard it was to capture and keep shifter females.

  “Thank you kindly,” Dee said when he finished. She stood, her mind already turning with what she should do next. She’d have to call in some help because that one…that one whose name he sold would be a problem.

  “What…about…me?” she heard him ask.

  Dee looked at him over her shoulder. For days she’d watched the man and Donna McNelly. For days she’d watched those two argue, fuck…fuck, argue until Dee had seriously considered removing her own eyes. For that torture alone, he should suffer, but there were bigger issues. Bigger mistakes he’d made. “You betray your kind? What do you think should happen?”

  “Just…names. Just—”

  “I know. Just crossbreeds. They’re still us. But don’t you worry none…you’ll be gettin’ what you deserve.”

  She walked back to the stairs, but before heading up, she stopped. She listened. The hyenas who ruled these tunnels crept closer. She could hear them, smell them. And they could smell her…and Ross’s blood. She looked back at him one more time and smiled. “It won’t last long,” she promised.

  Then, before she went up those stairs, she yelled out, “Dinner!”

  She made her way out on to the street, closing the alley door, the screams and hyena howls left long behind. She headed down the street, but stopped at the corner when a limo pulled up in front of her. After a moment’s hesitation, she got in.

  “Well?”

  She stared across the seat at the man who’d hired her. Who’d offered her a chance to continue doing what she did best. She loved her cousin, but working security? Getting a regular paycheck and clocking in and clocking out every damn day? Not exactly her style. “You were right,” she said. “He did sell her name before he tried to grab the other one.”

  “I’m guessing he needed the cash. Besides, after meeting her I can see why he tried to bring in the feline instead. The other would have been much more of a challenge.” Niles Van Holtz, Alpha Male of the entire Van Holtz Pack and head of the simply named Group, the protective arm of the Board, took a sip of bottled water.

  “Want me to bring her in?” she asked.

  “No. We’ll use her as bait instead.”

  “She’s a wild card. Never know what she’s gonna do next.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  Dee grinned. “Look at you. Tryin’ to sweet-talk me.”

  The wolf smirked, glancing out the limo window. “Why did you bring Ross here? You could have expired him at the hospital.” And she had to fight real hard not to laugh at the fancy way he’d put that rather than just saying “killing” like any self-respecting predator. “It would have appeared that he died from his injuries.”

  And Lock MacRyrie would have spent the rest of his life thinking he’d killed that wolf in an ugly fit of grizzly boar-rage. No. Dee-Ann wouldn’t do that to the man who’d saved her life more than once. She wouldn’t let that rest on his giant shoulders. Seeing him happy and in love was a wonderful thing. Dee wouldn’t be the one to take that away from him now.

  She didn’t, however, mention any of that to Van Holtz. “Figured it was better he disappeared, since he was healin’ up and all. S
cumbag dealer disappearing, no one will think much about it.”

  Van Holtz shrugged. “As you like. I was just curious.”

  Reaching into a small fridge, he pulled out another bottled water and handed it to her.

  She took it, nodded. “Thank ya kindly.”

  “And what about that girl you picked up? Abby something?”

  “She’s safe.”

  “She’s a coyote-wolf and barely sixteen.”

  “And she’s safe.” And, in a few years, sly little Abby would be the one in the back of this fancy limo, haggling for this job. But until then, she needed to be cared for like any pup, no matter the breed…or the mix.

  “So are you in, Miss Smith?” he asked.

  “Not sure. Don’t much like feelin’ hemmed in.”

  “We’re not the military. And, as a boss, I’m quite hands off.”

  “Except the Unit’s been keepin’ an eye on me. Even following my friends around. I don’t like it.”

  “You won’t have to worry about them once you’re with us. They just want to make sure you haven’t snapped your bolt.”

  “Who would be my contact here?” Dee asked, doubting Van Holtz himself, who hailed from the West Coast, would do that job.

  “You’ve already met him.”

  Dee thought a moment, then couldn’t help but give a little sniff. “That kid?”

  “Ulrich is hardly a kid. Actually, I think he’s only three years younger than you.”

  And a little too damn pretty for her to trust her life with. “He’s the best you can do?”

  “He’s the best. So are you in or out?”

  She shrugged. “In.”

  He grinned. “Are you always this enthusiastic?”

  “Pretty much. Like my daddy.”

  “He was one of our best.”

  “He still is.”

  Van Holtz nodded and said, “Welcome to the Group, Dee-Ann.”

  Dee-Ann looked out the window to watch the city move by. She didn’t know if it would be her home forever, but it would do for now.

  Gwen grabbed her mother’s purse and dug around until she found the aspirin. Roxy never needed headache medication for herself, but she usually kept a small bottle in her bag for Gwen.

  She poured two in her hand, glanced at her mother, who was “yoo-hooing” over at Lock’s uncles, and went ahead and poured out another three.

  Blayne placed a bottled water in front of her and climbed over the back of the booth to get into the seat.

  “Figured you could use this.”

  “Thanks.” Gwen downed the five pills in one swallow and chased them with the water. “Between the singing and my mother…”

  “I know, I know. Still…better than the club.”

  “Only because my mother yelled more while we were there.”

  Gwen closed her eyes and waited for the pills to take effect, but that was when she heard Blayne fidgeting.

  “What, Blayne?”

  “What what?”

  “Your leg is bouncing, so I know it’s something.”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  Gwen put her hand on Blayne’s knee, forcing her leg to stop bouncing up and down on the ball of her foot. It was a habit she’d had for years.

  “Spit it out, Thorpe.”

  And she did, in one long sentence: “Cherry wants you to stay on the team and she definitely wants you to stay with us through Nationals because we’ll be going up against the Texas Long Fangs and I heard they’re really mean and I know you said you were only doing this for one bout, but you were so in it, and it was so you and you and me are the most rockin’ team ever and…and…and you’re not saying anything.”

  “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

  “Come on, Gwenie!”

  “You already know what I’m going to say.”

  Blayne’s face scrunched up as she squeaked out, “You’ll say…yes?”

  Gwen shrugged. “Yeah, all right.”

  The squeak turned to a loud squeal and she hugged Gwen while the wolves and felines glared at Blayne and the dogs barked.

  Putting her knees on the booth seat, Blayne looked over at her teammates, now Gwen’s teammates. “She’s in!”

  The Babes clapped and cheered and Gwen couldn’t help but smile until she saw her mother leering at her from the other end of the booth. At the moment, her mother sported a lovely black eye courtesy of Sharyn McNelly. It was a black eye that Roxy deserved, too, since she’d snatched off McNelly’s wig in front of everybody outside the stadium.

  “Just wipe that look off your face,” she told her mother. “I still haven’t forgiven you.”

  “Why can’t you simply admit you’re blessed to be the daughter of Roxy ‘The Rocker’ O’Neill?”

  “When did this become about you? How did this become about you? This is about me.” Gwen pointed at her chest. “Me, me, me. For once…me.”

  “Selfish,” her mother muttered, turning away from her to hit on Lock’s Uncle Hamish.

  Gwen’s mouth dropped open that her mother dared toss that word at her when Blayne elbowed her.

  Still glaring, Gwen faced forward and blinked up at Lock. “Uh…Lock?”

  “What did I miss?” her bear asked. “I heard applauding.”

  “Gwen’s joined the Babes,” Blayne cheered, hugging Gwen again.

  Lock grinned. “I had a feeling that was coming. You looked way too happy out there.”

  “Yeah, but Lock—”

  “I know, I know. And believe me, I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you in the hallway. But based on your family dynamic, I knew coddling wouldn’t work, so I gave you the proverbial kick in the pants you needed. Don’t be mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad, it’s just…look at your hands.”

  Frowning, Lock looked down at his hands. “Oh, gosh!” He dropped the Shaw brothers, both lion males grunting when they hit the floor. “I did it again.”

  “Again?” Blayne asked.

  “Remember? Bears beat up their prey, then drag them into the bushes to feed,” Gwen explained.

  “Ohhh. That’s why Daddy always said never let them take you to a secondary location.”

  “I think he was talking about serial killers, sweetie.”

  “Oh…it still sorta applies, though.” Blayne jumped up and over the back of the booth. “I’m going to circulate.” She kissed Gwen on the cheek. “You’re totally, like, the best friend ever,” Blayne teased.

  “You say that now, but you won’t when I kick your ass in training, heifer.”

  Head down, Blayne walked away but Gwen yelled after her, “None of that sloppy skating when we go to Nationals!”

  Lock took Blayne’s seat and asked, “How long before you’re cocaptain?”

  “I give it six months.”

  Picking up her hand from the table, Lock kissed her bruised and bloody knuckles. “I was really proud of you tonight. I have the toughest girlfriend ever,” he finished, mimicking Blayne.

  “You do. And I have the sweetest, most cuddliest, most adorable bear ever.”

  Grinning, they rubbed noses, moving in closer to kiss, but abruptly stopping when that hand slammed onto the table and Mitch lifted his head from the floor.

  “Dying,” he gasped. “Internal bleeding. Call. Ambulance.”

  “Ma,” Gwen whined, not in the mood to stop flirting with her boyfriend.

  Roxy slammed her hand down on the table and snapped, “Jesus Christ on a cross, Mitchell O’Neill Shaw! Get off your lazy ass and stop acting like a baby! You’re embarrassing me!”

  “Dying! Painful death!”

  Roxy pointed a finger at her son. “Don’t make me get the staple gun out of the back of my car. I will use it.”

  “But will it stop the bleeding?”

  Ignoring her brother and mother, Gwen leaned into Lock and said, “Any interest in getting out of here?”

  “And miss Phil’s rendition of ‘Rawhide’?”

  They glanced
up at the stage. The wild dog even had a whip.

  “Tell me you’re being sarcastic,” Gwen said.

  “I actually have to say I’m being sarcastic?”

  Lock eased out of the booth, stood, and held his hand out for her. Gwen took it and let Lock lift her up and over her brothers’ bodies. With their fingers twined together and mostly oblivious to the rowdy crowd of shifters all around them, they headed toward the exit and home.

  EPILOGUE

  Gwen jumped out of the cab and tossed money at the driver. “Come on!” she ordered Blayne. “We’re late.”

  “I know.” Blayne handed off the bags she’d held throughout the trip to Gwen and slid across the seat and out the door. “Merry Christmas!” she said to the driver, who looked at her in surprise.

  “Aren’t you bubbly?”

  “It’s Christmas!” Blayne cheered, taking one of the heavy bags from Gwen.

  “It’s Christmas Eve, so don’t annoy me.” Together they ran up the stairs to the front door.

  Gwen rang the doorbell and followed with a knock, not sure she could be heard over the Christmas music. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blayne look over her shoulder again.

  “What’s with you?”

  “Ever feel like you’re being followed?”

  “No.”

  “I do.”

  “Sure it’s not just her?”

  Blayne turned her head to look at Gwen, but caught sight of Dee-Ann standing behind them.

  “Ahh! Where the hell did you come from?”

  “Momma says from the love she shares with my daddy,” Dee calmly replied.

  Blayne said, “Awwww,” and Gwen desperately stabbed at the doorbell again until it opened.

  “You are late, feline.”

  “Don’t you have a cold war to start?” Gwen asked as she walked past Sabina.

  “And where is my chair?”

  “He’s an artist,” Gwen gleefully reminded the wild dog. “He won’t be rushed.” She shoved the bag at Sabina. “Here’s your damn chocolate cakes.”

  Sabina took the bags from Gwen and Blayne and then looked them over.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Blayne glanced down at the tiny velvet green minidress she wore. “Jess asked us to be Santa’s helpers tonight.”