Bite Me (41 page)

Vic kissed her on the cheek. “I may avoid telling you things because I don’t want you to snap, get your hands on a death ray, and start wiping out whole countries . . . but I would never lie to you.”

“How do you know I’d get my hands on a death ray?”

“Kyle said he was designing one, because it needed to be aesthetically attractive, and was going to have Freddy and Troy build it.”

“Then I
can
get my hands on a death ray . . . that’s good to know.”

“And that’s what has me worried.”

“Are you going into the City alone?”

“Bringing Shen.”

“You’ll be careful?”

“I will. You promise not to throw another locker at Blayne?”

“No.”

“Livy, remember? Novikov and Lock saved your life. And Novikov loves Blayne.”

“Why?”

“Livy.”

“I’ll be nice.” She tried to smile to show her sincerity, but Vic leaned away from her.

“Don’t . . .” He shook his head. “Don’t force it.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. It’s that bad.”

Gwen sat down on the couch next to Lock. He’d been quiet since they’d pulled into the driveway, and although he wasn’t a chatty bear in general, it wasn’t like him to say nothing.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, not bothering to lower her voice since she couldn’t be heard over Blayne’s excited squealing as she ran out the French doors that led to an enormous backyard.

“Nothing.”

“Hate when you lie to me.”

Lock shrugged those massive shoulders she sometimes hung off just because she could. “He bought her a house.” He glanced over at Novikov, who didn’t seem impressed by his own purchase. Then again, Novikov rarely seemed impressed by anything. “Actually, he bought her a mansion. I made you a table.”

“The mahogany one you had in the back room of your workshop?”

“You saw it?”

“Saw it. Loved it. Already planned to move it into the new apartment.”

“It’s not a mansion.”

“And you’re not Novikov and I’m not Blayne.”

Blayne squealed again and charged back into the living room, slamming the doors behind her. Something rammed into the doors from the other side, nearly sending Blayne crashing to the floor.

“Squirrel!” she squealed.

“What?” Novikov asked.

“Squirrel!”

“What did you do to them now?”

“I didn’t do anything. They just attacked me!”

Novikov rolled his eyes and began looking around his house again. “Man, these badgers are sloppy. We’ll have to bring that cleaning service I like in to go over the place again before we can stay here.” Another bang at the door and Novikov glared at Blayne. “Would you stop fooling around with those squirrels?”

“
Me?
I didn’t do anything!”

“You sure? You didn’t try to pet one?”

Her back still against the door, Blayne admitted, “I just wanted to see if they were friendly.”

“Well . . . now you know they’re not.”

Gwen looked at Lock. “And I am seriously okay with not being them.”

Livy walked into the room, and Gwen was happy to see her friend-in-derby, whom she privately called “my personal battering ram” looking healthy and surprisingly happy, considering.

“Hey,” Novikov greeted her, a real smile on his face.

“Hey.” She nodded at Novikov and then Lock. Livy’s way of saying “thanks for saving my life” without actually saying it.

“Livy! Hey!” Blayne cheered from her spot at the door, her body the only thing keeping the squirrels outside.

Livy studied Blayne. “What are you doing?”

“Slight problem with a squirrel. Or squirrels. Probably squirrel
s
at this point.”

“Oh yeah.” Livy walked up to Blayne, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her from the door. She snatched the doors open and hissed. Panicked squeals and chattering followed, and Livy closed the doors.

“Sorry about that. My uncles got drunk the other night and kind of had a feeding frenzy out there with the squirrels and raccoons.”

Horrified, Blayne demanded, “Why would they do such a thing?”

“I wouldn’t let them bring snakes here and they were hungry for something that would fight back.”

“Thanks,” Novikov said. “For not bringing snakes in here.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Really?” Blayne asked her mate.

“What do you want me to say? ‘Go on, bring your snakes in’? That sounds poorly planned, in my opinion.”

Blayne dismissed her mate with a wave of both hands and suddenly walked toward Livy, arms opened wide. The badger immediately held her hand up, stopping Blayne in her tracks.

“No,” Livy told Blayne.

“But—”

“No. No hugging. You can say ‘good to see you’ from there.”

“Oh, come—”

“No.” When Blayne stamped her foot in frustration, Livy offered, “I can open those doors and let those squirrels right back in here.”

“Fine. But you’re being kind of a bitch.”

“To be honest, I’ve never been
kind
of a bitch. I just am.”

Blayne glared at Gwen. “And you can stop laughing.”

“I could . . . but I won’t.”

Dee-Ann sat at the kitchen island in the apartment she shared with her mate. And it was her mate who put a cup of coffee in front of her and said, “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t know why.”

Ric sat down next to her. “Because you’re kind of . . . depressed. I’ve never seen you depressed before. It’s completely freaking me out.”

“I failed. Hate failure. Just another word for weakness.”

“How did you fail? If anything, it sounds like our bosses failed. Miserably.”

“You didn’t see how
your
friends all looked at me. Like I’d shot Kowalski myself. I’ve never not been trusted before.”

“Dee-Ann.”

She revised her statement. “I’ve never not been trusted before by those I wasn’t actively trying to kill. Happy now?”

“Just trying to keep you honest.”

The doorbell rang, and Ric kissed Dee-Ann on the forehead before walking out of the kitchen to answer.

“Dee-Ann?” Ric eventually called out.

“What?”

Ric came back into the kitchen. “You have a visitor.”

She looked up to see Barinov taking up the entire doorway.

“Hey, Dee-Ann.”

“It wasn’t me!” she suddenly exploded, surprising everyone in the room, even herself. “I’d never put someone in that kind of danger. All right, maybe Blayne, but Kowalski ain’t ever annoyed me as much as that mutt—”

“Dee-Ann. Dee-Ann!” Barinov chuckled. “I’m sorry we bailed the way we did. At the time I was not comfortable trusting . . . anyone.”

“You trusted Novikov,” she couldn’t help reminding him. “And
Blayne
.”

“It’s a mutt thing.”

Ric snorted, and when Dee glared at her mate, he quickly walked toward the refrigerator. “Would you like something to drink, Vic? Orange juice? Honey soda?”

“No thanks. I’m actually here to let Dee know . . . wait. There’s honey soda?”

“Y’all!”

“Sorry. Sorry. We found Whitlan.”

Ric closed the refrigerator and faced Barinov. “You found him?”

“He’s being protected. Heavily.”

Dee-Ann shrugged. “Don’t care if he’s being protected by Satan himself, where is he?”

“Russia.”

“Oh, you can’t go there,” Ric immediately replied.

“Van Holtz—”

“Don’t even, Dee-Ann.
You
can’t go to Russia.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna stop me.”

“Since the prime minister still so lovingly refers to you as The Murdering Twat, I think we need to come up with another option. And who, exactly, is protecting Whitlan in Russia?” he asked Barinov.

“Rostislav Chumakov.”

Ric’s mouth dropped open, and he took a step back. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. We have a plan to lure him to New York, but we need someone to deal with Whitlan in Russia. We could use one of our Russian contacts, but considering who Chumakov is . . .”

“He’s on the BPC board.”

“Plus, he’s a powerful mobster. I don’t know many shifters willing to take on bears. Especially connected bears like Chumakov.”

“I do,” Dee-Ann said. “I know someone who’d be more than happy to do this job.”

“Dee-Ann,” Ric reminded her, “you can’t go.”

“Not me. But it is someone I’d trust with my life. And all yours.” Dee-Ann grinned, and both men backed away from her.

Barinov shuddered. “No offense, but I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Livy looked over the unbelievably meticulous drawing of the wedding venue that Bo Novikov had created.

“This is very . . . precise,” she noted.

“I knew you probably couldn’t come to see it until the day of the wedding.”

“Very true. Did you study architecture in college?”

“Never went to college. Figure if I want to know something, you can always find books to read about the subject.”

“I see.” No wonder Toni knew how to handle Novikov so well. He was just another freaking prodigy. Brilliant while emotionally stunted.

“You will be at the wedding, though . . . won’t you, Livy?” Blayne asked.

She could have tormented Blayne, like she did most days. But Livy just didn’t have the heart. Not when the wedding clearly meant so much to her.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Russian bears with guns wouldn’t keep you away?”

They all looked across the table at Gwen. She shrugged and admitted, “It sounded much funnier in my head. Then when it actually came out of my mouth . . .”

Lock took Gwen’s hand. “I think the phrase you’re looking for is ‘too soon.’ ”

Livy shrugged. “There’s no ‘too soon’ with the Kowalskis.”

“You know what really sucks,” Blayne pointed out. “You can’t come to the bachelor-bachelorette party we’ve planned. No strippers.”

“Although my mother did beg,” Gwen sighed.

“My mother did, too,” Lock added. “But only out of intellectual curiosity.”

“Yeah, right,” Livy snorted. But when the grizzly glared at her, she choked back her laughter. “Just kidding.

“You know what?” Blayne jumped up from her chair and began to pace around the table. “We should move the party here.”

“You’re unfamiliar with the concept of being in hiding, aren’t you?” Livy asked.

“We’ll just invite a few friends. That way you don’t have to miss anything!”

“That sounds like a great idea!”

Snarling, Livy turned toward her nosy cousin. “No, Jake.”

“Come on! Everybody loves a party.”

“I was very clear to you about how you’re going to treat this house. No parties. No snakes. No stealing.”

Novikov tugged on Livy’s sweatshirt. “I find detailed lists about what they can and cannot do . . . very helpful. They may not stick to it, but you do have proof that you told them.”

“You guys are forgetting something,” Blayne stated. “This is
my
house. A wedding gift from my future husband. And if I want a fucking party here, I’m going to have a party.”

Lock pointed at Livy. “Your eye is twitching uncontrollably.”

“We in the family,” Jake said, his hand landing on Livy’s shoulder, “call that Livy’s tell.”

Livy spun and rammed her fist into her cousin’s stomach. He didn’t drop, but his knees looked ready to buckle and his face blanched.

“Did I tell you
that
?” Livy asked.

“You want me to help
who
get into my country?” Grigori Volkov demanded.

Vic held up his hands. “No, no. I can get him into the country. I need your Pack to lead him to Chumakov’s territory through yours.”

“Oh! Well then!” Grigori’s voice boomed around the room. “Is that all?”

“Grigori—”

“You come to me, bringing your stuffed panda with you—”

Shen looked away from the e-mails on his phone. “Hey! What did I do?”

“—and you dare,” Grigori yelled, getting in Vic’s face—one of the few men who actually could—“ask me to lead this . . . mangy
sobaka
into the territories of
my
people?”

Vic placed his hands on Grigori’s shoulders. “Referring to a fellow wolf as a dog does not help anyone, Grigori Volkov.” Vic stepped closer to his friend. “But giving a fellow wolf assistance in this matter . . . would reward
you
, old friend, with a powerful ally.”

“More powerful than me?”

“In this country? Yes.”

Grigori turned away, and Vic knew the old wolf was turning over the possibilities of an alliance in his head. Like a true Alpha wolf, Grigori only
appeared
to be led by emotion, when in fact, wolves were a cold, calculating species, often loving only to those they considered part of their Pack.

“To help you in your decision-making,” Vic said, “I have something for you. From my father.”

Vic placed the briefcase his father had given him on the table and opened it.

Grigori glanced at it, quickly looked away, then slowly back. “That is for my Pack?”

“The gold bricks are. The cash is for any last-minute issues that might come up. A sign of goodwill.”

“Your parents,” Grigori said, smiling, “never fail to surprise me, Victor Barinov.”

“Are you in?”

“To help an old friend?” Grigori held his arms open wide and happily bellowed,
“How could I not?”

C
HAPTER
34

V
ic drove down the Rhode Island street. His errands had taken longer than he’d wanted, but still . . . things seemed to be working out.

Shen tapped his arm. “Hey, Vic?”

“Huh?”

“Are those cars heading down the road to Novikov’s house?”

Vic sighed. “It’s my fault really. I left Blayne Thorpe alone in a house full of badgers. It was like I was asking for it.”

Sure enough, they pulled into the long, curved driveway in front of Novikov’s house and saw all the cars parked there, the doors and windows of Novikov’s house wide open, music blasting from inside.

“I’d have to say,” Shen remarked, “this is not discreet.”

Shaking his head, Vic stepped out of his SUV. He stopped to grab a shopping bag from the backseat and then followed Shen into the house. It wasn’t too late, but the party was already going strong, Novikov’s house filled with wolves, wild dogs, bears, and felines, as well as the honey badgers who’d already been staying there.