Still standing, Charlie looked down at the wound. Her fangs slid from her gums and she slowly faced the lions who had come in the back door of the deli. The one who had pulled the trigger gazed at her with wide eyes.
“Cazzo,” he cursed, backing up and pulling the trigger of the weapon he held. But the kick from a Desert Eagle was brutal. He had to keep re-aiming the weapon before he could take his shot and Charlie just kept moving out of the way of each bullet. She was moving so fast, she knew the lions could barely see her.
Charlie jumped up on the deli counter, charged across it and over the lions. By the time they realized she was no longer in front of them, she’d buried her claws into the spine of a She-lion. While staring into the eyes of the male lion standing to the female’s right, Charlie yanked her claws up until she’d split the female’s spine into several pieces.
Holding up her blood-and-gore-covered hand, she moved to stand in front of the male lion.
“Ti prego.”
“Yeah,” she said, hearing the lion behind her running out the way he’d come. “It’s a little too late for begging.”
*
Tock reached the doors; there had to be a way to open them from the inside.
Shifting to human, she pushed at the right door, but it was securely locked. Even with her claws, she’d never get through that metal. She quickly moved to the left door, ducking as a bullet came dangerously close to her head. That one moved and she realized the person who’d shut them hadn’t thought it necessary to lock the other door. The one they’d unlocked but hadn’t bothered to open.
“Mads!”
Mads rushed to her side and shifted. While the others helped Streep, Tock and Mads pushed on the heavy door. They had gotten it halfway open when Tock heard squealing tires and a gunned engine. She grabbed Mads’s arm and yanked her back, expecting the truck to hit the doors.
The container moved a foot or two when the truck hit it, but that truck didn’t slam into the doors. It scraped against the side of the container as—based on the roars, snarling, screaming, and disturbing thuds—the truck mowed down whoever had been shooting at them.
Tock motioned for Mads to stay put and then slipped past the partially open door and went to the edge of the container. She peered around the corner. The truck’s brake lights were bright red and the attackers on the ground, at least two of them now shifted to lion, were starting to get up. But then the engine revved again, and the brake lights went off. The big blue van sped back and, again, slammed into the ones who had been shooting at Tock and her teammates.
The van kept going until it passed the container and stopped. An Asian woman with part of her thick hair shaved on one side leaned out the driver’s-side window and asked, “Tock?”
Stunned, because Tock didn’t recognize this woman at all, she nodded.
“Get your friends and get your asses in the van, kid. We’ve gotta move.”
*
Looking down at the carnage and using the butt of the gun she still had in her hand to rub her bloody brow, Charlie briefly wondered what prison would be like. That’s when she felt eyes on her. She turned, raising the weapon.
A blond woman watched her from outside the busted window, but she didn’t move. Didn’t run away. Didn’t even flinch.
Another badger.
Still, Charlie thought about killing her, too.
“The Desert Eagle,” the blonde said with a thick Eastern European accent, “it jams. You are better with CZ or Makarov.”
“The Makarov? Do they even still make those?”
The blonde motioned to Charlie with a twitch of her forefinger. “Come, little freak. We must go.”
God, Charlie was just so tired. All she really wanted to do was crawl into one of the empty cabinets in the back kitchen and get some sleep before the cops showed up and handcuffed her.
“Lady,” she finally sighed out, “I don’t know you. As it is, I am thinking of killing you, too. Might as well, right?” Charlie added. “If I’m going to prison, I might as well go out with a bang.”
“Prison? You think they would ever allow you to go to prison? They would kill you first. Or have me do it. But for now . . . we just need to move you to some place safe.”
“My sister—”
“My friends have her.” The blonde wagged the finger she’d just been gesturing with when Charlie’s fangs made a sudden reappearance. “Now, now, little freak. No need for that. She is alive. We’re here to help. Not to kill. Unless you make us. So come. Move that pretty ass and let’s go.”
Charlie looked at the jammed gun in her hand, dropped it, and followed the woman as she walked to a waiting Mercedes.
*
As they all got back into the clothes they’d quickly grabbed before making a break for it, the van they were in turned hard at a corner, and Tock nearly landed on poor Streep.
“Sorry. Sorry,” she said, pushing herself away from her teammate’s prone body.
“They drive like Max,” Mads complained.
“They really do,” Max agreed. “And do we have any idea who these people are? Friends or enemies?” When all she got back were shrugs, Max nodded and said, “Great, great. Always good to know we might die any minute.”
“We have to do something,” Nelle pointed out. “We’ve already lost poor Streep.”
Streep’s eyes opened. “I’m not dead.”
“Yet, sweetie.” Nelle patted her head. “Yet.”
“Tock said I’d be fine!”
“Tock is not a doctor. But don’t worry . . . we’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
“How are we going to get out of here?” Mads wanted to know.
Before any of them could think of a way, the van suddenly stopped.
Tock knew they hadn’t gone far. They were still near the docks and all the shipping containers and the people trying to murder them.
She went to the back doors, expecting them to be jury-rigged so she couldn’t open them from the inside. But they swung open easily and Tock jumped out.
“Wait here,” she told her teammates before going around the vehicle.
The Asian—whom Tock had realized was a fellow badger before even driving away from the containers—stood in front of a severely damaged white van, the back doors flung open and facing them.
“Come on!” the She-badger yelled into it. When she spotted Tock easing up behind her, she motioned her over. “Can you please help me here?”
Tock didn’t understand what the woman was talking about, so she stepped closer and took a look inside.
“Maybe they’ll listen to you? Because we have to go. Now.”
Tock walked closer to the van and said, “All right, guys. Let’s go.”
The three Malone brothers—still in their tiger form—just stared at her. Tock had to admit . . . it was off-putting. They were so fucking big, they completely filled the inside of the van. It also didn’t help they were covered in blood and didn’t seem to recognize her at all. Those cold, cat glares just . . . staring at her.
“Guys,” she tried again, “let’s go. We have to go.”
The three males exchanged glances before a massive Keane jumped out of the van and loped over to the other vehicle.
Tock knew he’d reached it when she heard Max exclaim, “Holy shit! More cats! Oh. It’s just the Malones.”