Bite Me (26 page)

“Why are you here?” Reece asked.

“You made me a promise a few months ago. And today’s the day I need you to deliver.”

Reece made lots of promises to lots of people. He was good about keeping them, but he didn’t always remember them until someone reminded him. So he gazed at Livy, waiting for her to do just that.

She raised those pitch-black eyebrows of hers and tilted her head to the side.

Reece threw his hands in the air. “Oh Livy, come on!”

“You promised,” she coldly reminded him.

“Wasn’t I drunk that night?”

“Very drunk. But a promise is a promise. And I really need it.”

“You’re taking advantage of me.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor and I was the only thing between you and a couple of really pissed-off brother lions. Who told you to drink that tequila anyway?”

Reece shrugged. “I love tequila. It’s so dang tasty.”

“You promised,” she said again.

“Yeah, but—”

“Promised.”

“Livy, it’s just—”

“Promised.”

“I just—”

“Promised.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Promised.”

That was the thing with Olivia Kowalski. She forgot nothing and wasn’t afraid to call in a favor when necessary.

“Is there a reason I need to do this?” Reece asked, wondering why she wanted a favor now.

“Yeah.”

No. Livy wasn’t subtle. But she wasn’t really open, either. Emotion and information didn’t pour from her like it did from the other females in his life. If you asked her a pointed question, Livy would often answer with brutal honesty. But if you didn’t know the question to ask, she wasn’t about to help you.

“All right,” Reece finally agreed, wondering once again what had possessed him to become friendly with a dang honey badger. His mother had warned him. Warned him they were the meanest things on the planet. But he thought she was just being . . . herself. He had no idea there was validity to her statements. “Just let me take a quick shower and call the guys.”

Reece had barely taken two steps when his bedroom door opened and the Southern bobcat he’d met a few days ago smiled at him. She wore one of Reece’s Tennessee Titans T-shirts—something that annoyed Reece greatly because you just didn’t take a man’s Titans T-shirt—and leaned against the doorjamb, smiling. “Hey there, darlin’,” she purred.

Reece cringed at that sexy murmur and moved. Good thing, too, as the sound he found so sexy did nothing but set Livy off. Just as he bolted forward, Livy was already charging across his couch on all fours toward the bobcat. Livy wasn’t in her honey badger form, either, she was just on all fours. And yet she still moved like lightning. Before he could reach her, she was off the couch, fangs and claws unleashed. But he did manage—barely—to catch her around the waist, snatching her out of the air seconds before she could embed all those deadly natural weapons into the bobcat’s pretty face.

While Reece held on to a thrashing Livy, the bobcat had thankfully moved fast, as well, scrambling onto a side table and then onto the wall. She hung there now by her claws, hissing down at him and Livy.

“Darlin’,” Reece said to the bobcat over all the noise, “why don’t you let yourself out and, uh, I’ll call you later. Promise!”

Livy slammed her booted foot down onto the back of the wolf lying in front of her, raised her weapon, and screamed out, “By this paintball gun . . . I rule alllllll!”

Her cousins raised their weapons in mutual triumph, cheering at the complete and utter destruction of their opponents.

Grinning, Livy looked over at Reece and his Pack, who were still standing but also covered in red paint. And it was his packmates who were glaring at poor Reece for getting them into this. He seemed reluctant to turn around and face them. Not that she blamed him.

“What a good idea this was,” Reece’s brother Rory snarled at Reece. “I’m so glad I took off work to do this.”

“We got beaten by a bunch of mighty midgets,” one of the other Packmates grumbled.

“No,” Rory corrected. “We got beaten by a bunch of dang honey badgers.” Rory slapped the back of Reece’s head. “You put us up against goddamn honey badgers!”

Livy glanced back at her cousins and chuckled.

“Could you move your foot?” the wolf beneath her asked.

She did, and walked over to Reece and the others. “Don’t blame him,” she told Reece’s brother. “I made him bring me here.”

“He could have said no.”

“Then I would have ripped his pretty little face off for not keeping his promise to take me ‘and mine’—his words—‘paint ballin’ with his kin.’ Also his words.” Livy smiled, which made all the wolves scowl. Then she jerked forward and all of them jerked back.

“Well,” she said, walking over to her own “kin,” “this was fun. Thanks, guys.”

Livy winked at her cousins, then said, “Kowalskis, in honor of our hosts . . .”

Jake, as always, picked up on what Livy was suggesting. But the others instantly caught on as soon as Jake tipped his head back and began to howl.

Even with all the howling now going on, Livy could still hear the wolves behind her quite clearly.

“Good Lord! What are they doing?”

“Make them stop! Make them stop! It’s like hell on earth!”

“No wonder the felines complain when we do it . . .”

Livy let her cousins continue as her phone rang.

The ID said “unknown caller,” but she answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“It’s Vic.”

“Well, hi, Vic.”

And as soon as she said his name, her cousins instantly stopped howling.

Livy watched them carefully as Vic asked, “Are you coming back to the house soon?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Things are moving. Might be better if you’re home.”

Livy couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “You worried about little ol’ me, you big, strong, take-charge man, you?”

“Huh?”

Livy laughed. “Forget it. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Good.”

Livy disconnected the call and wondered how she could be so into a guy who had no real grasp of good comedy.

“So that was Vic, huh?” Jake asked, her cousin suddenly close. “Calling to check up on you?”

“Yes. So?”

“Well, I heard from that weird kid, Kyle, that he found you two in bed together. Fully clothed and cuddling.”

“Awwww,” the rest of her cousins chimed in. “Cuddling!”

Livy thought about saying something, but instead she just went ahead and shot her cousin in the leg. When he screamed from the pain of the paintball ramming into him at close range and dropped to one knee, she shot him in the head and neck until he was on the floor and covered in red paint.

“God,” Jocelyn sneered with a sad shake of her head, “you’re being so
weak,
Jake. Get up and act like you’ve got some real honey badger balls!”

C
HAPTER
22

V
ic waited for Livy on the stoop. Her uncles had left for Florida earlier in the day. And her mother had left about an hour ago with several of her own family, the Yangs. Vic knew this because he had a contact in the hotel the Yangs were staying at, and he was keeping an eye on them. There was always a risk of what Vic liked to call “blowback.” And he was determined not to let any of that blowback hurt Livy. No matter what her family did or didn’t do.

A cab stopped in front of the house, and Vic smiled as soon as Livy stepped out.

“Hey,” he said when she slowly walked up the stairs.

“Hey.” She dropped her backpack by the door and sat down next to him.

“How did your day go?” Vic asked.

“It was all right. I left work early to hang with my cousins.”

“You can just leave your day job when you want to?”

“I hadn’t thought to ask anyone about leaving. I do it all the time. No one says anything as long as I make my photo shoots on time, especially the shoots with Novikov. And as long as I hit my deadlines . . . they leave me alone.”

“That’s pretty cool. Most day jobs are a lot less . . . flexible.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better about this job?”

“Yes.”

“Well . . . thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Livy rubbed her eyes, yawned.

“Tired?”

“Just a little. Beating the Smith Pack males in paintball can wear a girl out.”

“You played paintball with wolves? Livy . . . no.”

“My cousins needed a way to work off some excess energy.”

“But beating up on wolves?”

“What makes you think we won?”

To effectively reply to that, Vic just stared at her and raised one side of his mouth.

“All right, all right,” she said around a laugh.

“You know how emotionally vested the wolves get about dominance. Why don’t you just go beat up some puppies, too?”

Vic heard what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

“Okay! I get it,” she said. “I’ll send them an ‘I’m sorry’ basket of Milk-Bones to make it up to them.”

“You are so mean.”

“I know. It’s a genetic flaw.”

“Speaking of genetic flaws, where are the cousins you played paintball with?”

“They went out to eat. But I wanted to come home and see you.”

Vic placed his hand under Livy’s, wincing at the size difference. His hands looked like giant dinner plates next to hers. But when she curled her fingers in between his, clasping their hands together, Vic realized that the size difference didn’t matter.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

“And go where?”

“My house. Just for the night.”

Her nose wrinkled a bit when she grimaced. “We shouldn’t leave Coop, Cherise, and Kyle alone in the house.”

“Because of what Coop and Cherise might do to the kid when they can’t take it anymore?”

“Kyle will have to learn to deal with his siblings on his own. I’m just concerned that with my family out doing what they do—”

“Shen’s here. He’ll watch out for them.”

“Why is Shen here? Doesn’t he have a home?”

“Somewhere, but hell if I know where it is. But it’s not in Manhattan. Or any of the five buroughs. So until we’re done with this, he’s not going anywhere.”

“You think he’ll mind?”

“Coop just ordered Mexican for dinner. Shen will not mind staying.”

“Big Mexican food fan, is he?”

“He’s a big fan of food in general.” Tightening his fingers a bit so Livy couldn’t pull away, Vic stood, tugging until she got up, as well. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Just for tonight.”

“As long as Shen is watching out for them, that’s probably a good idea.”

Vic led Livy down the street to where he’d parked his SUV. While they walked, he pulled out his cell phone and sent Shen a quick text to let him know what was going on.

He reached his vehicle and opened the door for Livy. Because of its enormous size, she had to step up and then
into
the SUV. But she turned and faced him before sitting down in the seat, her hands resting on the frame.

She gazed at him for a long moment, then asked, “Do you have honey at your house?”

Vic swallowed. “We can stop at a place I know to pick some up. It’s open late. Bear owned.”

Livy reached out with one hand, stroked her fingers down his jaw. “Good plan.”

Vic waited until Livy was in her seat before he closed the door. He moved around the SUV, trying really hard not to run. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to run. And speed. All the way back to his house. That would be tacky, though. He didn’t want to be tacky.

Right? He didn’t want to be tacky?

Coop was having a pleasant evening. He was sitting on the couch, working on the symphony he’d started to write a few days ago on a whim. Cherise was on one end of the couch, the remote control in her hand, indulging her secret love of reality television. His music had him pretty well sucked in, but it was entertaining to occasionally look up and see people yell at each other for ratings. On the other end of the couch was Kyle. He was in a sketching mood tonight, and Coop was grateful. When Kyle sketched, he was so absorbed by his work that he was quiet for once. Wonderfully, beautifully, amazingly quiet.

It was nice. Three prodigies, sitting around, being casual . . . while creating work that would last hundreds of years. See? They could be normal like everyone else.

The giant panda, Shen, walked into the living room. He had his cell phone in one hand and one of his
many
bamboo stalks in the other.

Staring at his phone he said, “Got a text from Vic. He and Livy are heading to his house for the night. He wants me to keep an eye on you guys while they’re gone.”

“Great,” Coop said, suddenly not liking the flow of what he’d just written. “Thanks.” He reached for the eraser he kept next to him and removed the offending notes, started again.

“You know”—Cherise lowered the sound on the dramatic yelling—“I think Livy’s really into Vic.”

“Really?” Coop asked, still erasing. He hated seeing the remnants of his failures.

“I’m worried, though.”

“Why?”

“He’s awfully nice. Maybe too nice. You know, for Livy.”

“He’s not that nice,” Kyle tossed in. “He’s seen enough of life and death to be able to handle the darker side of Livy’s personality and needs. And Livy doesn’t need someone who is like her. She doesn’t need a honey badger as a mate. She knows, at least subconsciously, that connecting with someone like her would lead to what her parents once had. She fears that. She is, much to her surprise, a one-man woman. She will never be comfortable with the yelling, cheating, and lying that her parents thought of as sport so things never got too boring. For an artist she’s surprisingly conventional about relationships.”

After staring at each other, Coop and Cherise gazed at their younger brother with wide eyes and opened mouths.

He glanced away from what Coop realized was a sketch of the Arc de Triomphe, which they’d seen on their three-day stopover in Paris before heading back to New York. And it was meticulous and wonderful and . . . perfection. Still . . . Coop wondered if his brother might be missing another possible career.

“Have you thought about studying psychology, Kyle?” he asked.