Bite Me Page 110
Bears. So damn polite.
“Play fighting?” Livy asked. “Seriously?”
“I know it doesn’t look it. But I think . . . because they can’t really do this with anyone else without killing them . . . they’re doing it now with each other.”
“What is going on with Novikov’s fangs?” Livy wanted to know. “Are those tusks?”
“They’re not tusks,” Blayne argued, pushing past Lock. “They’re fangs. Like the mighty saber-toothed cat of yore.”
“It is like watching Jurassic Park,” Livy’s mother muttered.
“And before we start throwing stones,” Blayne said, the most-likely-sugar-filled drink in her hand giving her a lot of bravado, “let’s talk about that tail good ol’ Vic is rocking there.”
Livy slowly turned her head to look at Blayne. “What about it?”
“It’s a little freaky-lookin’, is all I’m saying.”
“Uh . . . Blayne?” Lock shook his head as Livy began to shift. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“You’re right,” Blayne said immediately. “That was mean. I’m sorry,” she said as she turned to face Livy. “I never should have said that to—badger!”
Toni winced when she saw Livy take Blayne down like an African beehive. She grabbed Ricky Lee’s arm. “Stop them.”
The wolf shook his head. “I ain’t gettin’ in the middle of that.”
Lock MacRyrie rolled his eyes in disgust. “I’ll take care of it.” He reached down to grab Livy’s honey badger form off Blayne, but he immediately stumbled back, his hands up to protect his eyes. “Okay, I’m out! I’d rather get between the woolly mammoth and the saber-tooth cat.”
“Get her off me!” Blayne screamed. “Get her off me!”
Toni went to grab Livy, but Ricky Lee caught and yanked her back. “Have you lost your dang mind?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, honey badgers don’t play-fight!”
“Move, move,” Balt and Livy’s uncles said as they pushed through the crowd. “Such weakness,” Balt sneered, his eyes red from all the poison-infused vodka he’d been swilling the last hour.
“Be ready,” he told his brothers before he reached down and grabbed Livy by the back of the neck. He lifted her up and off Blayne, and Livy’s uncles immediately grabbed her legs and held them away from her body while she snapped and hissed at them all.
“Come!” Balt ordered. “Let us take our lovely niece inside and relieve her of having to look at these weak species.”
Toni let out a breath once Livy was back in the house, and Gwen helped Blayne to her feet.
“You all right, Bland?” Toni asked.
“It’s Blayne!” the wolfdog yelled.
“Oh God!” someonefrom behind Toni called out. “They’re heading for the pool!”
Sure enough, the two behemoths battled their way across the giant yard until they tumbled into the pool. But so much predator landing hard in an Olympic-sized pool with heated water that kept it from freezing . . .
Toni turned away but it didn’t help; the first three rows of spectators were drenched by heated water. The only ones who managed to get away in time? The honey badgers.
A group of them stood off to the side, dry, drinking their vodka, and laughing.
And the two males who’d caused this? Now flopping around like two bear cubs in the water that was left in the pool. No longer bothering to fight because they were enjoying being goofy way too much.
“Well, I’m going inside,” Gwen announced, trying to shake off the water. But she stopped when she saw Lock walking by with a hose.
“What are you doing?” she asked her fiancé.
“Filling up the pool,” he explained. Lou Crushek—the polar bear—took the hose from him and went on to finish the task. “So we can shift and relax in there. Basically a bear version of a hot tub.”
Toni, with a shake of her head, went inside for a dry towel and to get a stiff drink. Hell, why not? She wasn’t driving tonight.
In a dry pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, a towel over his wet hair, Vic threw back his head and laughed at Crushek’s story about taking down three Volkov Pack wolves during an ill-planned jewelry heist in Queens.
“One of them tried to make a run for it, and he just ran into these thick, bulletproof glass doors. So they didn’t break, but he got knocked out cold.”
“What’s really sad,” Vic finally admitted, “I know them. Those were Grigori’s less-than-bright nephews.”
“How are you friends with wolves?” Lock asked.
“I used to think it was because somehow the bear and feline parts cancelled each other out. But I finally realized it was my mother. The men love my mother.”
Vic heard a click and looked over his shoulder to see Livy standing by the doorway, snapping pictures of them. She’d put her new camera together and was thoroughly enjoying the evening now that she had something between herself and the crowd at the house.
The one thing he knew not to do, though, was to point out that she was again using her camera. Nothing annoyed Livy more than when someone stated the obvious. Like, “Hot day, huh?” during an August day, or “Hey! That’s a camera,” when she was holding a camera.
Those were things that irritated her. So Vic returned to his conversation with men mostly built like him, but who didn’t feel the need to drag him into playing a sport. According to Novikov, “I’m glad you don’t play hockey because you could be better than me and then I’d just have to destroy you so you didn’t get in my way.”
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