Page 62 of To Kill a Badger (The Honey Badgers Chronicles #6)

S ome of the strongest foxes moved closer to Elise, ready to attack the hysterical big cat if it became necessary. With a simple hand gesture, though, she stopped them from getting too close. She didn’t want to pressure such a large beast.

“Calm down, big kitty,” she soothed. “And tell Elise what is wrong.”

He did. Something about honey badgers and how one had disappeared after a meal. Maybe the She-badger had wanted to get away from him. Elise could understand that. Two minutes and she wanted to escape such an annoying animal.

“Who is your pet badger?” Elise asked when he suddenly stopped talking. She assumed he was done.

“She is not my pet.”

“Who is she?”

“Nelle . . . I mean, Gong. Zhao.”

Like alert meercats sensing hyenas near, every fox in the room stopped what they were doing and focused on Elise and the big cat.

The Zhaos were well known among their kind.

For some foxes, the Zhaos were enemies, because they continued to disrupt their smuggling businesses throughout Asia and the Indian Ocean.

For others, they were business partners that brought in a great amount of money and protection from the bigger predators that would love to get a toehold in this world and push all the foxes out.

Elise, whose family had been working with the Zhaos since long before Elise had ever been born, grabbed the tiger’s arm and pulled him toward her private offices.

She knew Nelle Zhao. Had worked with her a few years ago. A very nice badger. Her friends, however . . .

And quite honestly, that’s what Elise was worried about.

Zhao’s friends. An unscrupulous band of young badgers that could cause all sorts of problems for Elise.

Something she absolutely couldn’t afford.

If she lost the Paris territory that her family had been holding for centuries when there was still a king ruling these lands, she would never get it back again.

“ Allez , kitty. Allez ,” she said to the cat, pulling him inside her office. She motioned for one of her brothers and told him in French to find the She-badger. Immediately.

It was best to help this cat as much as she could before he really panicked and called Zhao’s friends. Because once they were involved . . .

“We have much to discuss,” she told the cat, after closing the door and pushing him into a chair.

Her poor furniture creaked at the weight of the beast, and she hid her cringing face while sitting across from him.

She felt it was best to keep her desk between them.

Hopefully she wouldn’t need the sawed-off shotgun she had taped underneath it, but it was good to have access in case the cat lost all his fragile cat-control.

When Elise felt she wouldn’t show her every emotion on her face, she lifted her head and smiled at the animal across from her.

“What is your name?”

“Keane.”

“Keane . . . what?”

He took several deep breaths, closing his eyes, and giving himself several interminable seconds. It was clearly difficult for him right now with Zhao missing.

“Malone,” he finally said. “Keane Malone.”

Fuck . A Malone.

It was bad enough he was a cat. It was even worse, he was a tiger. But a Malone, too? An American Malone, no less? What had she done to cause such hate from the angels above?

Her day was just getting worse and worse!

“So . . . you are protection for, uh, Zhao. Yes?”

“No.”

“Ah. Lover, then?”

“No!”

She leaned back at his sudden bark. “No need to yell, kitty. I sit right here.”

“Look, it’s too complicated to explain.”

“I understand. You went on date. She got bored. She abandoned you like alley cat in street.”

“That is not what happened.”

“There is no shame, kitty. I can find you a very nice full-human girl who would not find you repulsive at all.”

“She does not find me repulsive!”

“Again, no need to yell.” Elise raised her arm and motioned her brother into the room with a twitch of her fingers.

He came over to her desk and plopped down a laptop. A video was ready to go, and he tapped a key, playing it.

“Ahhh, mon dieu .”

“What?” the cat demanded.

“Well, Malone, good news is she did not abandon you because of your repulsive personality.”

“Thanks,” he snarled dryly.

“But, unfortunately, she was arrested.”

“What?” He scrambled out of the chair and came around her desk to watch the video, pushing her brother into the wall without even trying.

“You see?” Elise asked him. “Police pick her up and take her away. See? She is fine.”

“She is not fine! She’s in jail!”

“I’m sure not for long.”

Her brother, snarling at the cat, tapped on the laptop screen, and Elise was unable to stop the wince that flashed across her face.

“Merde.”

“What?” the cat demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“This man,” she said, pointing at the screen, which showed an older man with short white hair getting into a car and following the police who had picked up Zhao. “This man, Malone, is a problem.”

“Why? Who is he?”

“Manse.”

“Who’s Manse? Who is Manse? I need to know who Manse is! ”

“He’s getting hysterical,” her brother noted.

“I know.”

“Perhaps we should kill him now. Get it over with.”

“We could, but such a mess.”

“We can clean that up.”

“No, no. I don’t mean a physical mess, with blood and everything. I mean, a mess with the Zhaos. I’d like to avoid that. Even if killing him would be easier.”

“You know you’re saying all that in English, right?” the cat asked.

Elise tilted her head to the side and replied, “Yes. We know.”

* * *

Keane was trying to stay calm. He really was. In fact, he’d never worked so hard before to remain calm since his mother had informed him that his father was dead and he didn’t want to upset her or his brothers by crying.

Of course, right now, it was not about crying. It was about his desire to tear apart the streets of Paris until he found Nelle. Where was Nelle? Where had they taken her? And why had she been arrested? Wait . . . he probably shouldn’t ask that last question.

“Can you get her back?” Keane asked, deciding to ignore the fact the foxes were talking about killing him the same way he and his brothers talked about buying morning bagels.

The female fox, Elise, raised a finger and picked up her cell phone; the case was covered in what Keane assumed was yellow crystals, but now he thought maybe they were instead yellow diamonds.

Jesus! He was in a thief den! With thieves!

Fox thieves! The thievi-est of thieves! You didn’t invite foxes over to your house for a party unless you wanted to discover half your electronics and all of your cash gone the next day.

They didn’t live in your cabinets or bother with high-end artwork like badgers.

They just ran around stealing shit, because they could.

They were so adorable—full-blood and shifter—that people often let them get away with it, too.

Even Elise, who had to be in her early sixties, was adorable.

Keane felt a hand slip into his back pocket, reaching for his wallet. Turning only his head, as far as it could go, he roared and unleashed his fangs. The red fox—gaze wide—looked at the floor, pulled out his hand, and walked backward out of the room until he could run away.

Elise spoke in French to someone on the phone. If she was upset Keane had threatened one of her people with his fangs, she didn’t show it.

The only thing Keane understood from this end was the French word for yes and Nelle’s name. Otherwise, he was lost, and the fox’s expression told him nothing.

Eventually, Elise disconnected the call and, after glancing at the male fox next to her, she looked at Keane.

“What?” he asked, when she said nothing. “What?”

* * *

Nelle was pissed. Really, truly pissed.

She had been sitting in a mostly empty room in the Paris police headquarters for almost an hour, her left wrist zip-tied to the metal chair she was sitting on.

Of course, she could get herself out of this, but that would just force the police to send out an alert about her to all on-duty staff. She didn’t have time to worry about getting out of Paris without getting caught again.

What really irritated her, though, was that she hadn’t done anything.

Not in France, anyway. Streep and Max had taken on a few things, but by themselves or, as in Streep’s case, with family.

Nelle had not been involved. There was literally no reason to arrest her, since she was almost positive the statute of limitations had been reached on what she’d done when she was still in high school.

She loved shopping in France so much, she wouldn’t have risked not being able to return.

So, then, why was she here ? Why had she been—

A full-human male walked in. He was older. Probably in his sixties. She could smell that he had diabetes and some damage to his liver, probably from drinking. She expected him to sit down across from her in the empty chair and begin grilling her on something. He didn’t do that.

Instead, he said nothing, simply walked around her and dropped the duffel he’d been carrying at her feet. Something heavy and metal clink ed inside when it hit the floor. He unzipped the bag and took something out.

He cut off her zip tie and gripped her arms, pulling them back until they were close together.

Then he held her like that with one hand while doing something else with his other hand.

She didn’t know what until she felt cold metal against her bare skin.

Then she heard metal against metal, and something ripped into her flesh and embedded itself in the bone.

She barely stopped herself from crying out, because this did hurt.

She looked over her shoulder and saw that a long piece of titanium had been placed against her right arm and was now stuck there somehow.

Blood oozing from around it. The man took another piece of metal and pressed it against her other arm.

That’s when Nelle saw the spikes from inside dart out and slam into her flesh.

Nelle snarled, her body instinctively beginning to shift. But she stopped when the man said in French, “Do that and your arms and the bones will be destroyed. Understand?”

She didn’t know if that were true. But she knew the damage would take longer to heal than even a shot to the heart.

That wasn’t what disturbed her, though.

What disturbed her was that this full-human knew exactly what she was, had something to counteract what she was, and wasn’t running around telling every other full-human what she was. No. None of that was good.

Locking her arms together with a big zip tie looped around her arms and the metal attached to her flesh, he grabbed her by the extra skin on her back and lifted her out of the chair.

Tossing a black sweatshirt over her shoulders, the hood over her head to obscure her face, he led her out of the room and into the busy hallway.

There was no point in calling out to the full-humans who filled this place. They wouldn’t understand what was going on and, if they figured it out, it would only be worse for shifters everywhere. This man understood that, too. He understood it far too well.

Confused, angry, and more worried than she’d ever been, Nelle let the man lead her toward an exit. She glanced back once more to see if there was something she could do. Confusion she could cause. A way to facilitate her escape, but there was nothing.

She did, however, see a cop walking into the room she’d just left before quickly darting out again, his gaze searching the hallway.

When gold eyes landed on her, she knew he was a fellow shifter.

A small man. She was guessing, a small cat or canine.

He silently watched the man take her out before he started speaking into a cell phone.

Nelle didn’t know whom he was speaking to, but she could only hope it was someone who could help her. Because this was shaping up to be an enormous problem.

* * *

Nope. Keane didn’t like the look on this She-fox’s face at all when she disconnected the call that had come in a few minutes before. Not at all!

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she simply said, “We need to go.”

“Go? To Nelle?”

“Come, kitty. We do not have much time.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

As they walked through this thief’s paradise, Elise motioned to several different foxes. Without question, they all followed after her. They took the freight elevator to the surface and moved quickly to an underground parking structure more than a mile away.

The security guard—another fox—nodded at Elise as she passed and traveled down to a row of cars that included a brand-new Jaguar and a Volkswagen Golf that had to be at least twenty years old and had definitely seen better days.

Elise was heading to the Jag when she stopped and looked Keane up and down. Then she switched keys with another fox and headed to a larger panel van with logos on both sides and the back.

He was grateful. He knew his legs couldn’t handle being twisted up so he could fit into that tiny car. Dani’s twin bed at home was bigger.

“Where are we going?” he asked once they’d started driving.

“To rescue your lover before it is too late.”

“She’s not my lover, and what do you mean by too late? What does that mean? Tell me!”

The male fox from Elise’s office leaned forward from the back of the van and said, “Are you sure you don’t want me to kill him? He seems very slow with his mind, and I doubt he will be missed.”