Bite Me Page 62

Vic watched the boy bolt, and Livy dropped back against his chest.

“You’re going to have to learn to be firm with him without breaking any of his bones,” Livy said. “That kid can smell weakness and will take full advantage.”

“It was kind of weird finding him just standing there . . . staring at us. You think he was plotting to kill me?”

“Kyle? No. You’re confusing him with his sister Delilah. You find her watching you from the end of your bed, shoot first and ask questions later. Trust me . . . it’ll be the only time Toni will forgive you for killing one of her siblings.”

“Good to know.”

Livy propped her head up with her chin on her fist and her elbow buried in Vic’s chest. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty or so.”

“Okay.”

“Why?”

“I have to go in to work.”

“You’re going to leave me here? Alone? With your cranky uncles and Shen?”

“And Kyle.”

Vic shuddered. “That kid asked me to pose naked.”

“That kid’s got an eye.”

“Please tell me you’re not okay with him asking me to pose naked.”

“Not now, but when he’s sixteen—”

“Stop. Just stop.” Vic pressed his hands to either side of Livy’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking about how beautiful you look in the morning.”

“I’m not making you breakfast.”

“Come on,” Vic whined. “I’m starving!”

“Too bad. You can, however, take me out to breakfast once I have my shower.”

Vic grinned.

“I didn’t say you could join me in the shower.”

“Do you want breakfast or not?”

Livy sat up and ran her hands through her short hair. “Look at you. Making me give you sex so I can get some food.”

Vic kissed the back of her neck and teased, “As long as we understand the parameters of this relationship . . . we’ll be just fine.”

Livy was late getting to the Sports Center but it was for two very good reasons . . . waffles smothered in honey and great sex.

Besides, she didn’t have any appointments this early. Of course, she never booked anything this early. She would never say she was crabby in the morning, but she did notice that her normal responses to situations seemed to annoy others more before noon.

The elevator stopped on her floor, and she walked out. She was heading down the hallway when someone grabbed her from behind. Her ski jacket, zipped in the front, choked her when she was lifted off the ground and carried off like laundry.

Livy hissed and tried to twist out of the grip of whoever had her. Unfortunately, they didn’t have her by the back of theneck, where the elasticity of her honey badger skin would make it impossible for her opponent to keep a good grip. Instead, whoever this was had her by her jacket. Her stupid, stupid jacket!

Snarling, Livy tried to dig her pocketknife out of the back of her jeans, but before she had it in her hand, she was shoved through a door and tossed across a room.

Livy hit the wall face-first, which only managed to piss her off more. Crouching down, she unleashed her claws, and spun around to face . . . Dee-Ann.

The hillbilly pointed a damning finger at her. “I want you, little girl, to explain to me—right now—why honey badgers are settin’ up house outside my baby cousin’s den!”

Livy stood, stared, and finally asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Why is your clan of honey badger felons across the street from Bobby Ray’s house?”

“My clan of felons? Do you really want to go down that particular country road with me, Smith?”

Dee-Ann was coming at her when Cella Malone ran through the door. She jumped between them, her arms pressed against their chests.

“Stop it! Both of you!”

“Move, Malone,” Smith snarled.

Livy snorted. “Bring it, Ellie Mae.”

“That is enough!” Cella shoved, and the Siberian She-tiger forced them to either sides of the room. “And no more Beverly Hillbillies jokes, Livy. Only I can do that.”

Pointing a finger, Dee-Ann snarled, “I will not have that little weasel puttin’ my kin at risk.”

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” Cella asked Dee-Ann.

“No.”

Apparently not liking that particular response, Cella grabbed Dee-Ann by the hair and yanked her out of the office.

“We’ll be right back,” Cella said, trying to sound cheery.

While they were outside, Livy saw one of her recent team pics behind what she now realized was Cella’s desk. It had been blown up so it covered most of the wall. And Livy had to admit that as mundane as this work felt . . . she was good at it.

The door opened, and Cella and Dee-Ann walked back into the office. Now Dee-Ann looked contrite.

She nodded at Livy. “I’m real sorry to hear about your daddy.”

Livy wasn’t surprised the protection organizations had already heard about what she’d found. Anytime large numbers of honey badgers moved into a single location, the local shifter populace tried to find out why and how soon they would go away.

“Well,” Livy said calmly, “you can take your countrified pity and shove it up your flat, hillbilly—”

“Okay!” Cella cut in. “No need to let this get nasty. We just wish you’d come to us, Livy. You know we would have helped you.”

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