Bite Me (7 page)

It didn’t take long to figure out that this company was, truly, a delivery business. They delivered cars and other heavy items for their rich clients to and from foreign countries. But they also moved illegal products like elephant tusks and stolen paintings and protected-animal meat and furs. Also for their rich clients.

But that still didn’t explain the circuitous route the package from Russia took to get to Miami. Once Shen was into the system, he discovered that the package had gone from Russia through Japan down to Australia to South Africa into Argentina up through Peru through Columbia and into Cuba before hitting Miami.

The question that Vic needed answered, though, was where had it gone from there.

“It was a pickup,” Shen finally said. “Someone came and picked up the box and took it. No name provided, though.”

“All right.” Vic patted Shen’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Give me a minute.”

Vic waited while Shen erased evidence that he’d been tooling around the company’s system. Once done, they headed out, Vic handing the rest of the cash he’d promised to the security guard.

They walked away from the port toward where they’d left the rental SUV.

“So now what?” Shen asked.

“Every time we think we’re close, there’s another dead end with this guy.”

“There’s got to be something we can try.”

Vic stopped, hands in pockets, his gaze locked on the clear sky. “We can check the daughter’s place again,” he said, resigned.

“That could have been where the package was going.”

“Doubtful.”

“Maybe. Or maybe a father making a desperate attempt to know his daughter after missing out on the last thirty years. He wouldn’t be the first. And whoever picked up the package and brought it to her . . .”

“Might know where we can start looking.” Vic nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”

They walked on, reaching the vehicle quickly.

“And when we’re done with this,” Shen said as he opened the passenger’s side. “We need to shut that place down.” He gestured in the direction of the company they’d just left.

“Absolutely,” Vic said, immediately thinking about the animals that had suffered for the most ridiculous reasons.

Shen glanced at his watch as Vic opened his door and got into the SUV. “I think we can make the red-eye if traffic is good.”

“Great,” Vic said, starting the SUV. “I’m so ready to go home.”

C
HAPTER
5

T
hey’d taken the red-eye back to LaGuardia and now Vic was tired and cranky. Plus, he couldn’t seem to shake Shen. The panda had gotten in the cab with him and was now getting out as Vic paid the driver.

“Why aren’t you going to your hotel?” Vic asked as they headed toward his Westchester house.

“I wanted to make sure you got home safe and sound.”

Vic stopped outside the chain-link gate surrounding his home. “You want me to make you something to eat, don’t you?”

“I’m a guest,” Shen said, easing the gate open and stepping onto Vic’s property. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

“You are such a—”

“Hello, Victor!”

Vic gritted his teeth. He was
not
in the mood for this. For her. At least with Shen, Vic could be as cranky and rude as he deemed it necessary this early in the morning. But Shen was a panda. Tolerant as most bears were. It was the reason his father could put up with Vic’s beautiful but high-maintenance mother. He was a tolerant grizzly. Sure, you startled a grizzly, you risked getting your face ripped off. But otherwise, they put up with a lot as long as you kept the sounds low and the food supply substantial.

But this female wasn’t a bear. She was a feline. And a pushy one at that.

“Good morning, good morning,” she practically sang from behind him. And Vic wanted so badly to shut his gate and walk into his house without answering, but damn his Russian parents with their insistence on polite behavior. Polite behavior that didn’t allow him just to ignore a lady, no matter how annoying the lady might be.

Hand gripping the strap of his travel bag, Vic slowly turned and faced the pretty She-tiger standing behind him.

“Hi, Brittany.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She held up a perfectly baked coffee cake on a crystal plate with a crystal dome top.

Sure. She could have bought it at the bakery like most women would have. But not Brittany, local tigress, mom of two, and female in search of a long-term mate. Nope. She’d made that perfectly designed and probably incredible-tasting cake all by herself while raising her two perfect cubs and running a rather successful party planning company out of her house.

What exactly was he supposed to do with Brittany? Vic was far from perfect. In fact, he enjoyed the imperfection of himself and his family. And he could just imagine how poorly his mother and Brittany would get along. He shuddered at the thought.

“I made this just for you. My famous lemon honey coffee cake with buttercream glaze.”

“Sounds—”

“Why don’t I cut you a slice myself?” She walked around him, past Shen like he didn’t exist, and up the path to his house.

Vic watched her move. He knew if she were in her shifted form, her tail would be calling his name, swinging from side to side, twitching at the tip.

“That is quite the ass,” Shen muttered.

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

Shen chuckled, rolled his eyes. “You and your antiperfection agenda.”

Vic was about to reiterate—yet again—why he felt the way he did about anyone who tried so hard to be constantly perfect, but he was too busy watching Brittany walk into his house . . . unobstructed.

“You never leave your door unlocked,” Shen told him.

“I know.”

“Then how—”

A few seconds later, they heard a female’s startled scream turn into an angry roar.

Running now, Vic and Shen charged up the path to the house. Vic yanked the metal security door open and ran inside, down the hall, and into his kitchen with Shen right behind him.

That’s where they found Brittany with a blood-covered hand over her face, roaring at the cabinets over his refrigerator. Confused, Vic grabbed a towel and pressed it to her wounds.

“My God, Brittany, what happened?”

“She attacked me!”

Vic and Shen looked around the room, but didn’t see anyone else.

“Who attacked you?”

She yanked the towel from his hand and pointed at the cabinets. “Her!”

Now
really
confused, Vic walked to the cabinets over his stainless-steel refrigerator and opened one of the wood doors. Opened it and stared.

A naked Livy Kowalski, comfortably curled up inside his cabinet, held out an open jar and softly asked, “African honey?”

Vic wanted to be angry. She’d broken into his home, eaten his honey, and attacked his neighbor. And yet . . .

Closing the cabinet door, Vic faced a raging Brittany.

“Brittany,” he began, “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Your fault?”

“Well, I don’t allow her out of that cabinet without my permission.” Vic forced himself to keep his focus on a now-horrified Brittany because of Shen and what he was sure was his reaction, but Shen was smart enough to turn away from them all.

“Your permission?” Brittany growled. “You keep a woman in your
food
cabinets?”

“It would be cruel to make her stay under the sink. She’s not
that
small.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that, Victor Barinov?”

Uh-oh. She was seeing through his lie, which meant he’d never get rid of her. Yeah, yeah, Brittany was really pretty and probably gave a guy a wild ride in bed. But Vic wasn’t nineteen anymore. He really hated waking up in the morning with a woman he had nothing to say to. And he had absolutely
nothing
to say to Brittany.

But before Vic could either spill his guts—“I have no idea why a honey badger is in my cabinet!”—or lie more—“And she’s my cousin! That’s double wrong!”—his older sister suddenly stormed into his kitchen, Vic’s six-year-old nephew hanging off her hip.

“Well, I’ve left him!” Irina, called Ira by the family, announced to the room.

“Again?” Shen asked.

Which got him the quick Ira-response of, “Shut it, Shen.”

Vic focused on his sister. “She doesn’t believe me.”

Ira blinked. “Who doesn’t believe you?”

“Brittany.”

Ira and Brittany sized each other up as only She-predators could. Like Vic, Ira was half bear, but the Siberian tigress side of her didn’t much like this other cat in territory Ira felt the need to protect, at least until Vic found a mate of his own.

“Doesn’t believe you about what?” Ira asked.

“About
my
little Livy.”

His sister glanced around, her eyes settling on the cabinet. The first time Vic had found out that Livy was breaking into his house was when his sister had opened a cabinet and found the honey badger sound asleep, her fingers and face still sticky from the honey she’d devoured. Although Ira hadn’t reacted nearly as violently as Brittany. Instead, she’d quietly closed the cabinet, tiptoed out of the room, and told Vic, “There’s a naked woman in your cabinet . . . and she’s eaten all the honey.”

After a moment of silence, Ira suddenly announced, “Well, not everyone is comfortable with that sort of relationship in this society.” She smiled at Brittany. “But Livy does have her benefits. When he’s out of town, she comes over to do my laundry and clean my house. But I
insist
she put on clothes first! I have a child to think of.”

Brittany threw up her hands. “I’m leaving!” she announced, her expression disgusted. “And I’m taking my cake with—”

When her words abruptly ended, Vic and his sister looked down. Shen was sitting at the kitchen table and had a handful of cake, his mouth covered in the buttercream frosting.

He swallowed and said, “Really good cake. And I’m not even a lemon guy.”

Maybe if Shen had cut the cake, Brittany would have still taken it. But seeing that his hands had been in it . . .

Definitely something bears could overlook, but not a feline. And Brittany was all feline.

Spinning on her heel, she stormed out, slamming the front door behind her.

After a moment of silence, Ira asked, “So Livy’s naked in your cabinets again?”

Vic shrugged. “Yeah.”

Livy was reaching for another jar of honey when the cabinet doors opened. She winced at the bright light from the kitchen windows.

“What are you doing?” Vic demanded. “Why do you keep breaking into my house?”

“As much as I protect you from these pathetic females, you’d think you’d appreciate my presence.”

“I don’t.” He frowned. “And why are you always naked when I find you?” Vic folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me you didn’t eat your way into my house again.”

“Of course not.” Livy licked honey off her thumb. “I
burrowed
my way into your house. There’s a difference.”

“Dammit, Livy!”

Vic went in search of the hole Livy had created as his sister placed her son on the ground and tapped his butt. “Go watch TV, Igor.”

“But I want to see naked Livy!”

“Igor . . .”

The little boy ran off before his mother could get really terse, and Ira Barinov walked over to the cabinet. She was shorter than her brother by nearly a foot but that still made her over six feet tall. Ira held her arms up. “Come on, cranky badger.”

“But I’m comfortable.”

“You already have him freaking out about holes. You don’t want him to think too much about your naked ass rubbing against the cabinets storing his food.”

Livy knew Ira was right. Vic was quite mellow most of the time, but sometimes he could get surprisingly obsessive over the strangest things. And once he locked on, he just never let go. She really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that, so Livy waved Ira’s arms away. “I can get down on my own.”

“Not without your claws, and you already left scratches in the wood where you climbed in. Let’s not make it worse.”

Deciding not to argue, Livy placed her hands on Ira’s massive shoulders and let the hybrid lower her to the floor. She ignored the pat on her head that followed.

“So what brings you to my brother’s territory?” Ira asked.

Livy walked around the kitchen island and grabbed the clothes she’d left there the night before.

“I thought he was out of town.”

Ira chuckled. “Not why did you choose his house. I just assumed you couldn’t find an open window anywhere in the City. I’m talking about why did you feel the need to burrow into his honey cabinets.”

“Oh, nothing. Just my entire life is falling apart.”

“It couldn’t fall apart at your own place?”

Livy heard no vicious tone in her words. It was just a question. So she answered while grabbing her clothes, “I couldn’t stay at the apartment. Not with her there.”

Ira leaned against the counter, and pulled a bowl of fruit close. “Who?” she asked after choosing a few grapes and popping them into her mouth.

“My cousin.”

“If you didn’t want her there, why did you invite her?”

Livy pulled her head through her sweatshirt. “I didn’t invite her.”

“Oh.” Ira shrugged. “Then throw her out.”

“It won’t matter. She’ll just come back.” Livy finger-combed her hair off her face. “We always come back.”

“Like a chronic illness,” Shen offered around a mouthful of cake. And when Livy and Ira stared at him, he shrugged and added, “It felt like you needed an analogy there. At the end.” The women kept staring, so he suddenly dug his laptop out of the bag resting against his chair. “Forget it.”

Livy pulled the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. “Well, I’m out of here.”

“You’re leaving?” Ira asked.

“Since your brother’s home now—”

“Oh, come on. Stay. We have cake.” She glared at Shen. “Stop eating the cake!”

“I’m hungry!”

“I appreciate the invite, but once your brother finds that hole—”

“Dammit, Livy!”

Livy pointed at where the yelling had just come from. “Yup. I’m out.” She went to walk around the island, but Ira reached across and grabbed Livy’s arm.