Coach took off her baseball cap and removed the tie from her hair, letting the brown-and-gray mass fall to her massive She-wolf shoulders. The female could have easily played football with other wolf shifters, but she said she really loved basketball. Felt it was more graceful and took more skill. She would also say, “I like my brain not binging around my skull after some grizzly hits me from behind.”
Tock had to agree. As much as she loved basketball, she’d never understood the allure of football. Why would anyone sign up for that level of injury? She was even more worried about full-humans playing football than she was about shifters. Their kind was just so . . . brittle. Like empty corn husks easily crushed by rampaging pigs. They intentionally slammed into each other and then were surprised when they turned forty and their bones turned to dust.
Nope. Tock agreed with her coach. Basketball was a much better, safer sport.
“I’ve been made an offer,” Coach suddenly announced.
“To trade me?” she asked.
“I am not trading you,” she snapped. “I’m not trading any of you. Stop asking me that.”
“Well, you brought up my loyalty. Implying I’m not loyal.”
“I’m not implying you’re not loyal, Tock. I’m simply wondering if you think you and the rest of the badgers would follow me to another team. Or if they’re specifically loyal to the Butchers.”
“Why would we be loyal to the Butchers? Wait . . . let me rephrase. Why would we be loyal to the Butchers without you?”
Coach blinked. “I don’t—?”
“You do realize that Max only lasted this long with any team because of you and your innate ability to tolerate her bullshit. With anyone else, Streep would have headed to Broadway or Hollywood by now. Nelle would go wherever Mads went. And if Mads was going to leave while you were still coach, she would have done it when we had that two-year run that we didn’t even get into the playoffs.”
“And you?”
“I do what I want. And I don’t like being ordered around. You’re one of the few people who know how to manage me without pissing me off. That’s a skill very few have. You are literally the only person I take orders from when not trapped in a firefight. Especially if whoever is in charge does not truly understand the concept of time management. It’s not just about being on time, you know?”
“Yes, I know.”
“There is a lot more to it and it really irritates me when people don’t understand that.”
“Yes, Tock. I know.” She moved some papers around on her desk, but Tock got the feeling it was just so she’d have something to do with her hands.
“So,” Coach eventually continued, “if I said there was an opportunity to go to another team—”
“It’s not Alaska, is it? Mads would go, but I’m from a desert people and an island people and Wisconsin is cold enough, thanks. Mads is Viking. She can handle that cold shit. But the rest of us?”
“No, no. Not Alaska. It’d be here. In New York.”
“The New York team wants you?” Tock asked on a laugh. “Doesn’t the owner call you Fido?”
“Not to my face.” She cleared her throat. “And we’ve worked through that.”
“Is she insisting Mads and the rest of us come, too?”
“No, no. Actually,” she admitted after another throat clearing, “I’ll probably have to fight to bring all five of you. The owner does have issues with—”
“The MacKilligans?”
“No. The Gonzalezes. She’s very Catholic and she thought she was purchasing actual artifacts from the Vatican, but they were, in fact, excellent fakes.”
“Ahh. Yeah. Streep’s family does do that sometimes. I mean, they probably”—she paused a moment to think of a safe word to use—“acquired the originals from the Vatican, but those are in the main family home in the Philippines or at one of their local churches. They’re big fans of the pope. Anything he’s touched means a lot to them.”
“Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter to me. I want you guys with me. You guys are my secret weapon. Nothing is concrete yet, but I wanted to see if the five of you would even be interested.”
“Interested? Well . . . let me think a moment.” And Tock did, though she did her thinking out loud. “Mads just bought a house here. And she’s fucking one of the Malone boys. So that will definitely go in your favor. Max just met her very young half-sister, and I know she’s not ready to leave her yet, at least until they know whether she’s more MacKilligan sociopath or MacKilligan sociopath adjacent. Nelle has access to a bunch of private jets, so she can travel wherever, whenever and doesn’t really stress about which team she’s on as long as Mads and the rest of us are there. Nelle doesn’t say it much, but she really likes to win. As for Streep, she’ll be near Broadway. She’ll happily move here.”
“And you?”
“I don’t care.”
“What do you mean, you don’t care? You don’t care about what? Basketball? The team? Life? Oh, my God, are you depressed? Should I get you mental health assistance? There’s no shame in asking for help, Tock.”
“No, I’m fine,” she said simply. Because she was. “But I can live anywhere as long as my team’s with me. Well . . . anywhere except Alaska. I refuse to move to Alaska.”
“I didn’t know you were so anti-Alaska.”
“I’m not anti-Alaska. I just know my limits. And not being able to walk from the local grocery store to my house without being mauled by a wandering polar bear does not sound like a good time to me.”
“Don’t Max and Mads currently live on a street—”
“Full of bears. Yes. But that’s different. Those are suburban bears. Not crazed, full-blooded polars that have lost most of their ice shelf. Besides, Charlie keeps them under control by making this upside-down honey-pineapple cake that is to die for.”
“Is it really that good?”
“It’s amazing.”
“So if I made you guys an offer . . .”
“Very high probability.”
“Okay. This is good.” She nodded. “This is very good. Just don’t mention it to anyone yet.”
“So you want me to pretend I won’t tell Mads and the others . . . ?”
She sighed. “Fine. Tell them but keep it among you five, please. I am still working out offers and whatnot.”
“Are you sure you want to tie yourself to us?” Tock asked her. “I mean, I know we’re great in a game and all. But . . . it’s us. I could say we start shit, but really, shit tends to follow us.”
“Are you worried about prison time?”
“Why do you mention prison? Have the cops been sniffing around?” Tock leaned forward. “Do we need to use our extra passports?”
“No, no,” Coach quickly replied. “And I don’t want to hear about your ‘extra’ passports,” she said with air quotes. “Plus, I already know you guys are not welcome in many Florida cities.” She thought a moment. “And all of Idaho.”
Relieved she didn’t have to tell the others to “make a run for it!,” Tock relaxed back in her chair. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. That’s true. But no. We’re not worried about anything.”
“Good. Okay. That helps.” She again played with some papers on her desk before finally asking, “What happened in Idaho anyway?”
Tock shook her head. “Coach, unless you want to risk being pulled into a federal grand jury, I’d probably let it go. I mean, we were underage and everything, but there are some things that have no statute of limitations.”
Coach let out a long sigh. “Thank God you guys are good at basketball.”
“That’s funny.”