Born to Be Badger (Honey Badger Chronicles #5)

The She-lion dropped her purse, started running and, in mid-stride, shifted to lion. Her clothes and shoes flew off as her arms and legs, now covered in animal muscle and fur, stretched out. Like a ballistic missile, she headed right for Tock.

Tock took in a breath and tightened her grip on the blade, but she never had a chance to use it.

The She-lion was so focused on Tock, she never saw Charlie MacKilligan coming until the hybrid’s shoulder slammed into the five-hundred-pound cat. Since Charlie couldn’t shift, it was her human body that hit the She-lion and, in theory, she should have bounced off like a ball against a wall.

This was Charlie, though. Charlie couldn’t shift, but her strength had become legendary. Not only did she send the cat flying in the opposite direction, the She-lion didn’t stop until she crashed into the far wall hundreds of feet away.

Charlie, however, immediately stopped right in front of Tock and her teammates.

“Everything okay here?” she asked with forced good cheer, her gaze locked on Max.

“It wasn’t her,” Tock explained, handing the tactical knife back to Max. “This one is kind of on me.” She pointed. “And him.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes on the She-lion’s lying son, and the kid gave a baby hiss before running into the sports store with the two other young males.

Princess barked and Charlie smiled at the sight of her. “God, she is such a cool dog.”

“If you bring home another dog . . .” Max warned.

“I know. I know. But,” she suddenly added with actual good cheer this time, “what I can do is take Dani home with me for the rest of the day.” She focused on Shay. “She can bring the dog and the puppies.”

Keane stepped in front of Shay before his brother could respond.

“What are you going to do with her?” Dani’s uncle asked with clear suspicion.

“Well, I’ll get her home. Get the dogs settled. Put Dani to work in a sweatshop making cell phones until I start sending her out to deliver sweets to strange men in vans.”

“Why do you try to make me angry?”

“Because it’s easy?” She shrugged. “What do you think we’re going to do? She’ll hang out with Nat. She’ll swim”—she held up her hand before Shay could say anything—“under strict supervision. I’ll make sure she’s fed and that the adult bears don’t mess with her. Stevie’s working from home today, so they can talk math or whatever. It’ll be fine.” She reached her arm out and up, gently placing her hand on his bicep, and said with disgusting sweetness, “We’re all family now.”

“Ech.”

Charlie laughed and turned toward Princess and the puppies.

“Did you forget you also have practice?” Keane asked her. “Which you’ve already missed most of.”

Charlie turned back to Keane and asked with all sincerity, “Really? You think I need more practice tackling people?”

They all looked at the She-lion, now human again, trying to pick her naked, battered body off the floor, but unable to do it without help from the other She-lions.

Keane returned his gaze to Charlie. “Try to come at least twice a week.”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, “I can do that.”





Chapter 14


Practice could have gone better. Coach was in a mood, so she pushed more than usual. And seemed to have no patience for Max being Max or Streep being Streep. And, of course, Mads didn’t understand why they weren’t playing at the highest level . . . at a practice. She was going to be a real pain until the championship was over.

Eventually, though, Tock remembered she still hadn’t discussed her teammates’ talk with Tock’s grandmother—adding to her general stress. After the fight with the lion pride, they’d gone straight to practice and Coach didn’t allow any talk during training because, again, she was in a mood.

Tock was okay with that, though. She didn’t want to talk about her grandmother. She didn’t want to hear about how great her grandmother was or why hadn’t Tock introduced them before or how she had a small job for them, and why was it a big deal to handle it as a tiny favor?

In an effort to delay hearing any of that for a few extra minutes, once practice was over, Tock helped one of the assistants gather up all the basketballs and put them on the rolling stand. Then she went into the hallway and headed toward the locker room for a nice hot shower and maybe some time with one of the PTs. The team had been given temporary accommodations since they’d been in the playoffs. And now, with the finals coming up, they’d keep their lockers until it was—

Tock was used to getting grabbed and dragged into rooms. It had happened enough that she didn’t even bother counting how often anymore. So she wasn’t shocked that it happened again, but that it was her coach who grabbed her was a bit off-putting.

Since she didn’t wear a gun or blade during practice—unlike Max and Nelle—Tock unleashed her claws, slashing them through the air. But Coach grabbed her wrists and pushed Tock into a chair before sitting at the desk across from her, seemingly unfazed by the fact her face had almost been torn off by one of her players.

“Hey,” Coach said once she’d sat down and taken a few seconds to get comfortable.

“Hey.”

“How’s it going?”

Tock was confused. The only time Coach Diane Fitzgerald asked that question was when Tock and the others came to practice or a game with bruises or open wounds. Once they’d all come in to practice with gunshot wounds and all Coach said was, “That shit better not fuck up your layups, ladies.” It hadn’t, so it was never mentioned again.

Frowning, Tock asked, “Am I in trouble?”

“No, of course not.”

“Did Max do something?”

“No.”

“Because if she did something, I know nothing about it. But if I did know about it, I probably wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

“Uh—”

“And if I were you, I wouldn’t ask. It’s best not to ask when it comes to Max. The last thing you want is her oldest sister involved—”

“Tock,” she cut in, “I just need your opinion on something.”

“My opinion? You sure you don’t want Mads for this? I mean, she lives for this shit.”

“No, no. I want to talk to you. Get your opinion.”

“Okay.”

“Now . . . how loyal are you to our team?”

Tock felt a little bolt of anger. “Are you trading me?”

“What?”

“I mean, if that’s what you want, if you think I’m the weak link rather than Janice, Fine.”

“Tock, I’m not trading you.”

“Then why are you asking me about my loyalty?”

Shelly Laurenston's books