Authors: Shelly Laurenston
“Yes?” she growled out, still trying to snatch the T-shirt back.
He climbed up on a chair and reached across the table to grab an apple. “There’s a bunch of limos outside the house across the street.”
“Yes. Some of the Jean-Louis Parkers are coming to stay.”
“I remember them. But the ones outside don’t look like Jean-Louis Parkers.” He bit into the apple, chewed. “They’re . . . wider.”
“Tall and wide?”
“No. Just wide. Like short linebackers.”
Confused, Jess stared at the boy. The Jean-Louis Parkers were jackals, a lean breed of canine like the wild dogs. Actually, all the smaller breeds were relatively lean. The foxes, the cougars. She could only think of one small shifter breed that one would consider wide and that was connected with the Jean-Louis Parkers, and that breed was . . .
Jess gasped, her hands going to her mouth—which meant her daughter, who was still desperately pulling on the T-shirt, went flying back.
“Lissy!” Jess ran around the kitchen table. “Are you okay?”
Lissy got to her feet, threw the T-shirt at Jess. “Tug!”
Sighing, Jess turned away from her daughter and quickly
walked to the front of the house. By the time she was stepping outside, the majority of her wild dog Pack was already out on the stoop.
A few of the pups came outside, as well, but Jess snarled and the children ran right back inside.
“I do not like,” Sabina growled beside Jess, her Russian accent always getting thicker the more uncomfortable she became.
“Is Cherise still with Johnny?” Jess’s adopted son, a brilliant young violinist, always found time to perform with the musical Jean-Louis Parkers.
Sabina nodded and ran into the house. A few minutes later, she returned with Cherise and Johnny.
“What’s going on?” Johnny asked.
“Back in the house.”
Johnny, now nineteen, sighed. “I think we both have to admit I’m a little too old to—”
“Inside!”
Johnny threw up his hands. “I hate when you get like this.” But at least he said it while going back into the house.
“Do you know them?” Jess asked Cherise.
She studied the good number of shifters getting out of luxury cars and limos—double-parking on the street like it was somehow legal—and entering the wild dogs’ rental home across the street.
At first, Cherise shook her head. “No, I don’t . . . oh. Oh.” She pointed at four Asian women stepping out of a red, late-model Mercedes-Benz. “That’s Livy’s mom and aunts.” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “Her mom can be a little . . . strong-willed.”
“Is that nice way of saying ‘bitch’?” Sabina asked.
Cherise thought on that a moment before admitting, “I wouldn’t challenge her.”
“You would not challenge bug.”
“Sabina,” Jess warned. “Be nice.” Thinking a moment, Jess turned to Cherise and said, “I hate saying this, Cherise, but when I rented our place to your parents, I didn’t think I’d have to specify no massive honey badger meetings. We have pups to think about.”
“But I doubt my parents would have meetings that involve any honey badgers other than Livy. I mean, my mom was always very nice to Livy’s mother, but only because it annoyed Livy’s mother so much.” She snapped her fingers and reached into the back of her jeans pocket to pull out her phone. “Let me check with Coop.”
She dialed and was silent for a moment. “Hey,” she finally said into the phone. “I’m over at the Kuznetsov Pack house . . . what’s going on? Why are there honey badgers . . . what?” Cherise suddenly blinked, her hand briefly covering her mouth. “What?” she asked again, her eyes beginning to tear up. “How is she? Is she okay?” Cherise shook her head. “Of course, I won’t cry in front of Livy.” But she was crying now. “It’s just . . . yes, I know she hates that! Fine! I’ll tell them. Okay.”
Cherise disconnected the call and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Cherise? What’s going on?”
“That’s all of Livy’s family going into the house. Your pups will be safe, and the Jean-Louis Parkers will take full responsibility for the house.”
Jess glanced at Sabina, but her friend was as confused as she.
“Is Livy okay?”
“She’s fine. It’s just . . . her dad.”
“Yeah. I heard he passed away.”
“Yes. We’d heard it was some kind of car accident or something. But . . .” She wiped her eyes again. “Livy found his body stuffed and on display in some woman’s apartment. I guess her family’s here to figure out what to do about it.”
Stunned, Jess stared at Cherise. Of all the things she’d expected the jackal to say . . . that was not even a thousand miles close.
“Why don’t you stay here for lunch, Cherise?” Jess asked as more limos showed up across the street. “Maybe even dinner?”
“Shouldn’t I be with Livy?” Cherise choked a bit, seconds before full-on sobbing exploded out of her.
“She’s family!”
Jess smirked. “And will you be able to not cry around Livy if we send you back now?”
“Nooooo!”
“Then it’s for the best that you stay here until you can. We’ll let Livy handle this in her own way.”
She hiccupped. “I just feel so bad for her!”
“I know. But the best you can do for her now is let her deal with this herself.”
“But I don’t want you to worry about the house—”
“We’re not worried.” Why would she worry? Honey badgers with a mission had bigger things on their agenda than destroying a house during a drunken spree.
One of Jess’s Pack took a still-sobbing Cherise back into the Pack house and the others followed. Only Sabina stayed behind, the two women staring across the street at the honey badgers entering it.
Jess folded her arms over her chest. “I hope they tear apart whoever did such a thing to Livy’s father.”
“They are Slavs, like me,” Sabina replied. “And the world will bleed for the wrong done to them, my friend. The world will bleed.”
Jess nodded in agreement at her friend’s ominous words and was about to go inside their house when something soft hit her in the back of the head. She looked down and saw a T-shirt, then looked up and saw her daughter standing in the doorway. One chubby little arm pressed against the doorway kept her standing on her stout little legs. With her free hand she pointed at Jess and screeched,
“Tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuug!”
Jess’s fangs were out, but before she could move, Johnny appeared behind her daughter. Still holding his violin and bow, he picked the girl up in his other arm and said, “I’ll play with her. I’ll play with her. No reason for anyone to get hysterical!” And with that he disappeared into the house.
Sabina smirked. “Don’t know why you look like that. You could have nice, boring wild dog with science degree and breed nice, boring wild dog pups.
You
picked hillbilly wolf with unstable family. Now you have unstable pup. Yet so much shock. Sometimes you make no sense.”
Jess watched her friend go inside and thought about how much she hated it when Sabina was right.
C
HAPTER
19
L
ivy hugged her cousin Jake. She was so glad to see him. Last she’d heard, he’d been in Belgium. But here he was.
And so was nearly everyone else.
The only ones who hadn’t made the trip so far were the family cubs and a parent to watch out for them, as well as older family members who were too tired or sick to travel. Except great aunt Li-Li, of course. She may be old, but not too old to find out what was going on with her family. Livy also guessed those currently in prison wouldn’t be showing, nor would the ones who were currently on the run from law enforcement so they wouldn’t go to prison.
Yet even without all those Kowalskis, the living room of her friends’ rental house was packed with Livy’s family, all waiting to hear what she had to say.
It was a strange moment for Livy. When she’d sent out the vague text to the Kowalskis ordering them to New York, she’d expected only a few to show up. But within twenty-four hours . . . here they all were. For her.
“You all right?” Jake asked her.
“Yeah.”
He leaned in and whispered, “I see Auntie Joan and the Sisters Grimm with her. She does not look happy. Oooh. And your great-aunt Li-Li with her big, disturbing throat scar that freaks me out. I keep expecting it to start talking to me.”
“Stop.”
“Good luck with that, cuz. Unless, of course, you will need me to protect you from them with my overt manliness?”
Livy snorted and playfully pushed her cousin’s head away.
“You should see your place now, Livy,” Jocelyn told her, offering a bite of the Danish she’d picked up from the spread that Kyle had put out. Yes, Kyle. It seemed that like most torturers, Kyle was also a wonderful host.
Livy waved the pastry away. “Did Melly come with you?”
“Yeah. She’s out in the back, though. On the phone.”
“On the phone with who?” When Jocelyn raised an eyebrow, Livy sighed. “Tell me she’s not on the phone with anyone who has a restraining order on her.”
“Does her ex-boyfriend have a restraining order on her?”
“Several.”
“Oh. Then I can’t tell you that.”
Livy, unwilling to deal with more than one tragedy at a time, focused instead on Kyle. He was talking to her mother, and based on the expression on Joan’s face, he was trying to convince her to pose for him. With as little clothing as possible.
“Coop?” she said, and pointed.
Cooper, busy catching up with Jake, followed where Livy was pointing. His eyes crossed and he promised, “I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks.”
Coop walked over to Kyle and grabbed his brother by the scruff of his T-shirt, dragging him out of the room.
“Don’t give me an answer yet!” Kyle begged Joan. “Think on it! Your beauty must be captured for all time!”
Jocelyn laughed. “I love that kid.”
“You would.”
“Olivia,” her uncle Otto called out. “One of those hockey players you take pictures of is here to see you.”
Livy looked over at the living room archway to see Vic and Shen standing there with large duffel bags and computer cases. She’d guess there was more equipment out in Vic’s SUV.
“I am not,” Vic growled at Otto, “a hockey player.”
“American football then?” Otto asked.
“Uncle Otto,” Livy cut in before Vic could start roaring, “these are my friends Vic and Shen. They’re going to be helping me.”
“Helping you with what, Olivia?” her uncle Balt asked. “You have us here. Now tell us what you need.”
Livy looked at Vic and he motioned to the stairs with a nod of his head. He and Shen headed upstairs to get situated while Livy faced her family.
She walked to the front of the room and looked over all their faces. Livy had silently rehearsed how she planned to discuss this. Starting off by thanking those who’d made the trip before carefully explaining everything she’d learned since she’d discovered her father’s body.
Yet after all that rehearsing what came out was, “My father’s dead.”
The honey badgers stared at her for several long seconds until Jake gently said, “We know, hon. We were at his funeral.”
Livy shook her head. “No. That wasn’t him in the casket. My mother put some other guy in there. Right, Ma?”
All heads turned toward Livy’s mother, and Joan threw up her hands. “Can’t even trust my own daughter to keep her mouth shut!”
“You whore!” Aunt Teddy accused, one finger pointing at Joan. “What did you do to my dear brother?”
“I didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t kill him. I was just sure he was dead.”
“But you couldn’t get his insurance without the body. So who did you kill? One of the many lovers you cheated on my dear brother with? You disgust me,” Teddy sneered.
“I don’t care.”
“Stop it,” Livy calmly cut in, not in the mood to fight or watch others fight. “This isn’t about my mother. This isn’t about insurance. This is about who killed my father.”
“I loved my brother,” Balt said, his eyes sad, “but he probably died in some bar. Or over woman.”
“No,” Livy said. “My father was hunted down. For entertainment. For sport.”
The room became silent as her family tried to understand what she was telling them.
“How do you know this, little Olivia?” Balt asked. “How do you know this is true?”
“Because I found my father’s honey badger form stuffed and on display in a woman’s apartment. My father’s death wasn’t over a woman. It didn’t happen during a bar fight. My father was murdered. Not because he was an asshole—as we all know he was—but because he was a shifter. Because he made good sport. And, as Damon Kowalski’s daughter, I’m not letting that go. I’ll never let that go.”
The family remained silent. There was no rallying cry. Nor was there dismissal of what she’d said. Instead, Livy saw sly glances passed between siblings, cousins, spouses.
Balt studied Livy a moment before he asked, “What do you need from us, Olivia?”
That was simple. “I plan to rain down vengeance on the man who did this to my father and anyone protecting or helping him. And you trifling band of miscreant felons are going to help me.”
Balt slowly stood and stalked over to where Livy was standing. They stared at each other for several seconds before Balt threw open his arms and wrapped them around Livy.
“My little Olivia! You make us all so proud!”
Livy looked over at Jake and Jocelyn, but both quickly turned away before they started laughing hysterically.
“We will make the ones who did this to our brother pay and pay and pay until there is nothing left.” He finally released her from the hug, but he still kept one arm around her as he faced the rest of the family. “Now the world bleeds—”
“Or,”
Livy emphatically cut in, “we can just go after the ones who did this. Rather than taking it out on the
entire
world. That seems excessive.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Yes, Uncle Balt.” She patted his ridiculously broad shoulder. “I’m sure.”