Bite Me (2 page)

Freelance work, however, had worked out better than he could have hoped. And being a crossbreed—grizzly bear and Siberian tiger—had, for once, been to his benefit. Plus his ability not only to speak eight different languages, including Russian, Polish, German, and Albanian, but to know and understand the culture of most of these nations, kept the money rolling in, and for the first time in a long time, Vic was beginning to feel his life had some stability. It was nice.

Ears twitching, Vic heard the sound of heavy panting. He lifted his head, sniffed the air. Scented the full-human running down the street toward him.

Vic waited until the panting was right beside him, then . . .

Reaching out, Vic caught hold of his target’s neck and yanked him into the alley.

Feet still running, arms still pumping, his target hadn’t even realized he was no longer touching the ground.

Vic held him like that until the local police charged past. Once he was sure they were gone, he lowered his target to the ground but kept hold of the man’s neck. By now, the target had realized he was no longer running from the police. He briefly seemed relieved by that, until he was forced to drop his head back in order to see Vic’s face.

“Oh . . . Victor. Hello.”

“There are people looking for you, Bohdan.”

“Don’t hand me over to them, Victor,” Bohdan begged while trying to twist out of Vic’s grasp. “You know what they’ll do to me.”

“I don’t know anything. Except that people are looking for you.”

Vic pushed away from the wall, Bohdan still in his hand.

“Wait! Wait! I have information. Information you’ll want.”

“I don’t need any information.”

“What about Whitlan?”

Vic stopped moving, eyes narrowing on Bohdan’s desperate face. “Lying to me won’t help you, little man,” Vic growled in Russian.

“I’m not lying.”

“No?”

Bohdan pointed at Vic’s hand, which was still around Bohdan’s neck. “Little tight.”

“And it can get much tighter. Don’t make me show you how much.”

Bohdan’s eyes widened in panic, which was kind of sad, because Vic really wasn’t putting any effort into what he was doing. If he did, he could pulverize the bones in Bohdan’s neck. These full-humans . . . so breakable.

“Talk, little man.”

“Packages sent in and out of country from Whitlan.”

Vic frowned. “How do you know they were from Whitlan? They could have been from anybody.”

“I saw him. I saw Frankie Whitlan.”

Now Vic smirked. “You? You saw Frankie Whitlan? A man no one has seen in more than two years?”

“No one has seen him in America, maybe. But he is friend to many in Russia, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria . . .”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

“No. But I was in warehouse that day. Big boxes he sent out. He wanted to make sure everything perfect. He sent them on boat.”

“Going where?”

“All over. But I know that at least one went to Miami.”

“And who helped him ship these boxes?”

Now Bohdan smirked. “I like my throat without big slash across it, Victor Barinov.”

That was fair enough. Most likely Whitlan had gotten himself involved with mobsters who’d tear someone like Bohdan apart for no other reason than they were bored.

Vic opened his hand and Bohdan dropped to the ground, landing on his knees with a grunt.

“You won’t regret this, Victor Barinov,” Bohdan said, grinning widely and rubbing his throat. “I knew I could help!”

Vic stepped over Bohdan and walked out of the alley. He stopped at the curb, pulling his phone out of his pocket. While he speed-dialed a number, he saw a few of the local police running back toward the alley, still searching for Bohdan.

Vic pointed into the alley and the officers nodded their thanks before charging in and taking Bohdan down. It was a loss of some easy cash for Vic, but the information he’d received about Whitlan was much more important.

“Yeah?” he heard on the other end of the phone. Dee-Ann Smith of the Smith Pack was not what one would call a chatty She-wolf. Or friendly.

“I’ve got information,” he said cryptically, not willing to put too much detail out over the air. But he didn’t need to say Whitlan’s name to Dee-Ann. Frankie Whitlan was the most wanted full-human in shifter history. All three major organizations were trying to track him down and execute him for participating in and running expeditions to hunt shifters. But the man had the uncanny ability to disappear. Or he had some very powerful people protecting him. Whatever it was, the Group—the American shifter protection agency; Katzenhaus Securities—the feline protection organization—also called KZS; and the Bear Preservation Council—the worldwide bear protection organization—also called BPC, simply could
not
track the man down. All they needed was a location so they could send in either Dee-Ann Smith or KZS’s sharpshooter Cella Malone to take him out. But after several years, they’d been unable to lock on the guy.

“When can you get back here?” she asked.

“I’ll get the first plane out.”

“Good.”

The call disconnected and Vic continued moving down the Albanian street toward his rental car.

“Where are we going?” a voice said behind Vic.

“Back to the States.”

“Cool.”

Vic stopped walking, faced the shifter behind him. Shen Li smiled at Vic around the short bamboo stalk he had in his mouth.

“I don’t need you to come with me.”

“Were you planning on leaving me in Albania?”

Shen, a giant panda born and raised in San Francisco, had a specific set of skills that Vic used for some jobs. They were longtime colleagues who’d worked for the government together. Now that both were doing freelance work, Vic brought Shen in as needed. But Vic didn’t think Shen was needed for this.

“You can get back on your own, can’t you?”

“Don’t speak Albanian. You do.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. Well then, sure. You can come with me.”

“Great.”

The pair started off again in silence, except for the seemingly never-ending sound of Shen chewing on his bamboo stalks.

“So what’s our next job?” Shen asked and Vic stopped again.

He faced Shen. “You do understand we’re not partners, right?”

“We’re not?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s easier for me to work alone and call you in when I need you.”

Shen chewed and chewed while his dark brown eyes gazed at Vic.

And this was the problem with being a hybrid. Vic’s bear side had no issue with the staring and the silence and the bamboo-munching. The feline side of him, however . . . wanted to tear Shen’s face off. Just for that damn munching sound alone.

Working extremely hard, Vic reined in his feline tendencies and suggested, “Why don’t we talk about this at another time? We need to get our stuff from the hotel and find the first plane out of here.”

“Okie-dokie!” Shen walked off, and in an attempt to get control, Vic shook his head a bit, the feline snarl out of the back of his throat before he could stop it. The few full-humans walking by quickly gave him a wide berth . . . and he couldn’t remotely blame them for it.

Calm and controlled again, Vic followed Shen to the rental car and, eventually, back to the States.

“How’s it going?” Toni asked as she handed Livy a dark German beer.

Livy had insisted Toni’s parents
not
attend the after-funeral get-together at her parents’ house. The Jean-Louis Parkers were such nice people, it wouldn’t be fair. But nothing would deter Antonella. She was determined to be part of the entire, horrifying ride.

Livy took the cap off her beer with her hand, yawned, took a drink, shrugged. “Fine.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It could be worse.”

“You’re at your father’s funeral—”

“I’m sure he was killed for a very good reason.”

“—your mother is fighting with his entire family over money—”

“In her mind, the fact that she didn’t kill him herself means she
earned
that money.”

“—someone unleashed poisonous snakes in the backyard—”

“For the kids to have something to play with.”

“—and your father’s mistress just showed up.”

Livy turned and watched the tall Serbian supermodel strut through the hallway toward Livy’s mother. She wore all black, including a black fur stole, and black six-inch Louboutin shoes. Livy’s mother spotted her instantly, and without saying a word, she was suddenly surrounded by her sisters and female cousins.

“Cool,” Livy muttered. “Fight.”

“You can’t let your mother fight her.”

“She probably won’t. But my aunt Teddy will definitely take her on. Because I’m pretty sure before she started dating my dad, that model was dating one of Teddy’s sons. And you know how Teddy is about”—Livy dropped her voice and put on her best Polish accent—“ ‘my beautiful, beautiful boys. They are from God, no?’ ”

Toni shook her head. “I swear, your entire family is like an episode of
Dallas
.”

“I was thinking more like
Dynasty,
but without the shoulder pads. My people do not need shoulder pads.”

Livy watched her mother—birth name Chuntao Yang; American name she’d chosen when she was nine and just moved to the States, Joan—stand her ground as the last woman Livy’s father had been sleeping with walked up to her.

Toni rubbed her nose and stated very quietly, “She’s full-human.”

“That was his kink.”

“I mean, Livy, she’s
full-human.
”

Livy shrugged, watching as her mother leaned in and whispered something to the woman. “Then I suggest we not let her in the backyard.”

“Livy—”

Whatever her mother said, it must have been a doozy, because the woman leaned back, then hauled off and slapped Joan across the face, snapping the She-badger’s head to one side.

Slowly Joan looked at the much younger woman. Her head tilted to the side, cold black eyes examining, judging. Then she head-butted the model, causing the full-human to scream and stumble back. Joan followed that up with a left hook to the jaw, a right to the gut, and another left directly to the face. And she did it all without an ounce of anger. If she were angry, that supermodel would have been missing her eyes.

Joan held her hand out and one of her sisters placed a switchblade in her palm.

Before Toni could say a word—and Livy knew she would because all this was beyond the understanding of the much more controlled and polite Jean-Louis Parkers—Livy strode across the room.

“Let’s see how many
Vogue
covers that face of yours gets now,” Joan calmly stated, her hand with the blade pulling back.

She was just swinging it down when Livy caught hold of her mother’s wrist, held it.

“No, Ma.”

Lips pursed, her mother looked at her with that disappointment Livy had gotten used to seeing years ago. Ever since Livy had told the man at the candy store he’d given her back too much change. Something her mother had
never
forgiven.

“No,”
Livy insisted.

“You and that weakness of yours.” That weakness being Livy’s conscience. She didn’t use it often, but the fact Livy used it at all disappointed her family greatly.

Joan yanked her arm back. “I know you didn’t get that nature of yours from
my
family.”

“So you blame
us
?” Aunt Teddy demanded. “Any weakness this girl has is
your
fault,
Joan
. Definitely not my handsome brother’s.”

As if the bleeding, sobbing mistress no longer existed, Joan and her sisters faced off against the Kowalskis.

Livy walked back to Toni’s side. “I’m in the mood for waffles. You want waffles?”

Eyes wide, the jackal said, “But your family—”

“They’ve got snakes in the backyard.” She grabbed Toni’s wrist and led her toward the hallway. “So they don’t need waffles.”

“Yes, but what about—”

Knowing exactly where this was going, Livy stopped by her father’s mistress. “If I were you,” she warned the foolish woman, “I’d get out of here. And feel free to go to the cops at your own risk.”

Figuring she’d done all that she was morally responsible to do, Livy continued out the front door, down the steps, and toward the limo.

“Wait!” a voice yelled from behind them. “Wait!”

Livy stopped, turned around, her hand still tight around Toni’s wrist.

Jake ran up to her. “Going for waffles without me, cousin?”

“I figured you’d be braving the snakes in the backyard.”

“With those vicious little bastard pups? Don’t let their age fool you. They’re mean. But more importantly . . .” He held up a set of car keys. “We can take Dad’s Bentley.”

Livy snorted and released Toni’s wrist so she could snatch the keys out of her cousin’s hand. “Let’s go.”

The pair began to walk off, and Toni emphatically stated, “I’m not going anywhere with either of you two driving!”

Livy looked at her cousin and, smirking, the pair walked back, grabbed Toni by the arms, and dragged her behind them.

“You can’t do this!” Toni protested. “This is kidnapping! A brutal, senseless kidnapping!”

“Stop bragging,” Livy teased.

“I know,” Jake joked. “Like she’s so important she just has to be kidnapped in a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.”

“God, how much?” Toni demanded. “Your father is going to have your ass if anything happens to this car!”

“Your lack of faith in my driving skills hurts me.” Livy stopped next to the beautiful car, its bright yellow paint job nearly burning her retinas. Yeah. Kowalskis weren’t exactly known for their subtle sense of style.

“Just so we’re clear,” Toni informed both Kowalski cousins, “if I die because of your insane driving . . . I will never forgive you.”

“Noted. Now get your skinny ass and narrow shoulders in the car.”

“She does have freakishly small shoulders,” Jake noted once they’d forced Toni in the backseat.

“I know. But I don’t hate her because of it.”

“That is really big of you, cousin.”

“I think so.”

Jake opened the passenger door while Livy walked around the beautiful car. “What do you wanna do after we eat?” he asked.