“Good. Because I will.”
“Until then,” Finn went on, “don’t attack little old ladies in hallways.”
“She is not a little old lady,” Charlie corrected. “She is a honey badger that has destroyed entire governments with her schemes. She may remind you of your grandmothers but she’ll tear your throat out as soon as you look at you.”
“I don’t deny that, but she’d probably do it some place private. Not in the middle of a shifter-only hospital. We do have rules, you know.”
Charlie blinked. “We do?”
“Yes,” both males said together.
“You mean they’d call the cops? They’d rat me out?”
Keane always forgot that the MacKilligans didn’t have much experience with the global shifter world. They, like most honey badgers, spent more time in the full-human world. One reason was because that’s where most of Stevie’s early work had been done. But it was also because they’d never had the overall shifter experience as Keane and his family had. They weren’t born in shifter-only hospitals. They didn’t go to shifter-only summer camps or shifter-only vacation spots. According to his baby sister, the MacKilligan girls didn’t have anything close to that life until they were forced to move in with Charlie’s grandfather after her mother was killed. He was wolf and even though he accepted his granddaughter and her half-sisters, the rest of his pack were extremely uncomfortable with having three honey badgers around.
Glancing at Charlie, Keane realized he might have more in common with her than just his baby sister. They’d both lost a parent at a young age. They’d both been forced to grow up way too fast because of that loss. And, now, the most important thing to both of them was protecting the family they had left.
He still wished his sister was spending most of her time at his house with the rest of the family, but he also began to feel a little better about her living with Charlie. He wished he could say the same about living with Stevie and Max, but he didn’t want anyone experimenting on her and he didn’t want Max teaching her to be a sociopath. He had enough to worry about these days without those concerns.
“If you kill a shifter in a direct challenge with claws and fangs, you’ll be protected,” Keane explained. “But if you shoot a shifter in the back without warning . . . you’re going to jail, Charlie. And then there will be no one but Max to protect Stevie. And that stuffed toy Stevie calls a boyfriend.”
“Don’t pick on her panda. She loves him, and he’s good for her, but I see your point.” She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll wait to kill her.”
Keane nodded. “Good plan.”
Finn, eyes wide, snapped, “No, it’s not!”
*
Mira stared into the room where her granddaughter slept on top of a feline. She was still in her badger form and was snoring. The feline, recovering from a neck wound, was under a medically induced sleep and would not be shifting any time soon, not until his body was done healing.
When Mira had sent her grandchild on this assignment, it never occurred to her Emily was in any true danger. At least no more danger than she would be on any other rescue mission assigned by her grandmother. Rescuing one of her many cousins was something Emily had done quite a few times over the years, for both sides of her family. This should have been a simple smash-and-grab . . . except with people.
But then that call had come from Tracey Rutowski. As soon as Mira had gotten that warning, she knew her grandchild was in danger, and she’d moved accordingly; but by then things were already in motion and it was too late to pull Emily out of harm’s way.
So here her grandchild was. Hurt. Recovering. And who knew if she’d sustained any long-term damage. The doctors certainly didn’t know yet. Neither did the MacKilligan girl who had pumped her grandchild up with so much venom, Emily could wake up babbling about dancing pink polar bears like Mira’s Uncle Jakub. He used to drink Polish vodka with Vipera Berus venom. Of course, so did all her other uncles and aunts, but Jakub drank it all day and into the night. Just sipped, sipped, sipped until the low-potency venom eventually damaged his brain. After that, he used to see pink polar bears that liked to dance. Sometimes her uncle would join in. It made for interesting Shabbats, but she did not want the same for any of her grandchildren. Especially Emily. A brain like hers needed to be protected because it would do great things one day when she stopped wasting her time on dumb American sports and worthless friends.
But those were thoughts for another day. Right now . . . Mira had to admit something to herself. Unlike pacts between warring countries and taking down dictators, she finally had to accept that she couldn’t handle this situation on her own. Because now civilians were being harmed. True, it was just an oversized house cat but it was the principle of the thing. She had no desire to harm the undeserving. Mira kept her ire for those who had earned it. House cat or not.
Which meant only one thing . . .
Letting out a long sigh, she hit redial on her phone and waited.
“What?” was the reply she got, and she rolled her eyes at the massive disrespect.
“You were right,” Mira grudgingly admitted. “And I think you should get involved.”
“Me?” was the response, and Mira could easily imagine the smirk on that face when the question was followed up with, “Or me and my friendsssss?” She drew the S out on “friends” so that the word sounded like it was coming from an actual asp.
Mira gritted her fangs—because they were out now, in annoyance—and said, “Yes. You and your”—she let out a sigh—“friends.”
“Hey, guys,” Tracey Rutowski yelled away from her phone, “she wants all of us!”
And the annoying, undisciplined badgers drunkenly cheered back, “Friendssssssss!”
Unable to tolerate another moment, Mira ended the call and snarled so viciously, her half-conscious granddaughter on the other side of that thick, protective medical glass raised her badger head and hissed back.
Chapter 5
When Shay opened his eyes he knew three things . . .
It was morning.
He’d almost died.
And someone’s head was resting on his penis.