Page 78 of To Kill a Badger (The Honey Badgers Chronicles #6)

A fter tapping her aunt’s knee to get her attention, Dani asked in ASL, “What are you doing?”

“Unlocking a door.” Nat frowned and twisted her lips. “Or maybe just a window. . . .”

“I thought Uncle Finn banned you from your laptop after finding out you’d taken money from Gram’s account.”

“Who says I only have one laptop?”

“You’re going to get into trouble. Uncle Mean is going to be Uncle Mad when he finds out.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” her aunt suddenly demanded.

Dani gestured to the puppy she had resting on her shoulder. “He’s hungry, and his mother is sleeping. I didn’t want him waking up the other pups. The bears complain when they cry.”

Her aunt looked at her with what Dani knew was real concern and asked, “Are you okay staying here with these bears? Do they scare you?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“You have no idea.”

“When Daddy and the uncles aren’t around, Auntie Britta lets me ride around on her back like in The Jungle Book. It’s so much fun!”

Nat smiled and shook her head. “You are your father’s child.”

Dani finally asked the question she always wanted to ask when she saw her aunt hidden away, working on her laptop, right under everyone’s nose. “Are you going to go to prison?”

Gazing at her for a long time, Nat finally said, “I hope not. I look like shit in orange.”

* * *

“Try it again,” Analia ordered her sister. She gripped her youngest child against her and watched her sister try to open the kitchen door.

Paolo had set up this “smart” house so that the doors locked through an app on his phone and couldn’t be opened without a passcode.

Meaning the wives and children could only leave with his express permission.

When she had realized it the first time, he’d said it was “for safety.” But she knew better.

Swallowing, her sister tried the door for a sixth time, but it still didn’t open.

Another She-cat pointed across the kitchen to a dark corner. “I heard a win—”

“What are you doing?”

Analia briefly closed her eyes before facing her brother-in-law. She forced a smile. A smile she’d been using since the day she’d met the de Medicis.

“Going outside for a few minutes. The children need some fresh air.”

“At this time of night?”

“It’s not that late. We’ll be right back. You can come with us if you—”

“No,” Silvio said. “You’ll stay here. We have much to do, and we can’t spend any time worrying about you being away from the house.” His gaze moved over the entire group of females and children before adding, “And you’re not going anywhere with my sons.”

And there it was. His sons . He could not care less about his daughters, but his sons meant everything.

Did males purposely forget that without females, none of them would exist?

Except for a few one-celled beings and perhaps a lizard or two, males were absolutely nothing without females.

Except males like the de Medicis never saw it that way.

“Silvio—”

“Stop. It’s over. I know exactly what you are up to and—”

Blood splattered across Analia’s face, but somehow she managed not to move. Not to roar in surprise and panic. Some of the children gasped, but they’d learned early that quiet around the de Medici males was a smart thing. A safe thing.

She watched her brother-in-law desperately try to speak, but the blade that had entered the side of his neck had cleanly cut his vocal cords. He could do nothing but open and close his mouth and gawk straight ahead.

The blade was yanked out, more blood flying across some of the other She-cats and their progeny. Still, none of them made a sound.

Silvio dropped to the ground, still trying to take a breath.

Still trying not to die. And that’s when Analia saw her for the first time.

She wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Not with a name like MacKilligan.

She was African-American and tall; wide shoulders; braided and loose hair in a ponytail.

With a coldness that made Analia’s heart stop, the female hybrid stared at Silvio for a moment before locking that gaze on Analia and the others.

She looked them over, and Analia readied her fangs and claws to be unleashed, even while holding her baby.

The MacKilligan, her gaze now locked on Analia, stepped over Silvio’s body and walked toward her.

Analia didn’t look away. She didn’t move.

She simply waited. It was hard for her. All she wanted to do was protect her offspring, but sudden movements were never a good idea around someone like this.

Because once you start moving, you become prey, too.

Now the female was right in front of her, her eyes a disturbing color. Not gold or dark brown, like most shifters. At this moment, they were red. Blood red.

Analia still didn’t move.

The female stepped past her, past Analia’s sister, and went to the door. She turned the knob, and the door opened. She gestured with the slightest tilt of her head.

Analia motioned to the others. Grabbing the small bags they’d packed just to get them through the night, they all silently hurried out the door.

They made it into the hallway and went down the emergency stairs.

Paolo’s non-blood-related lion males had been protecting the building’s stairwells.

And it was their bodies that now littered those stairs.

The She-cats did what they could to protect their offspring from seeing too much, but they were more interested in getting out rather than worrying about the cubs’ mental health at this moment.

Analia heard the kitchen door close behind them and it relocking. Not wanting to think about that too much, she kept everyone moving until they reached the exit.

Once outside, a very tiny blonde was waiting for them. Warmly smiling, she handed over several sets of keys for nearby vehicles.

“The cars are down the block on the left,” she said in very precise but non-musical Italian. “The address is already in the GPS. And good luck.”

Quietly motioning everyone along and not looking back, Analia knew they would need that good luck.

* * *

Travers checked the chateau doors again and motioned to his fellow badgers to sweep the area.

He should have left when he had the chance, he knew that now. The Von Sch?fer-Müllers were not to be trusted. Damn, though, if they didn’t pay well. Of course, badgers always paid well. It was the easiest way to buy loyalty.

But now he was in the midst of it, wasn’t he?

After jiggling the ornate handles on the massive double doors to ensure they were still locked, Travers turned away to head back deep into the chateau, but froze when he heard the rev of an engine.

He looked again at the doors over his shoulder and thought, They couldn’t be that crazy—

Of course, they could be. He knew that not when the truck came crashing through the ornate double doors, knocking some of his team across the hall, pinning others under the wheels, and splattering one slow mover’s head into pieces; but when the wall beside those doors was blown apart by an antitank weapon used by crazed, American She-badgers.

The initial explosion sent Travers and another group of his men spiraling farther into the house. They hit walls or crashed against the floor, or just kept going until they found themselves in the kitchen.

He only went a few hundred feet before sliding into a wall and stopping.

Sitting up, Travers grabbed both sides of his head and twisted until his neck was again attached to his spine. Thank God he was honey badger.

Once he could feel his legs again, he got to his feet, only to get slammed to the ground once more by the nearly thousand-pound, pissed-off tiger.

The fucking cat grabbed the skin on the back of his neck and took off running, ramming Travers into walls, doors, floors, and other badgers.

At one point he simply stood in the middle of the living room and swung him around, tossed him in the air, caught him, and then slapped him against a hard table.

When the cat was done, nearly everything inside Travers was broken or torn. The cat stood over him, bloody drool oozing over his fangs and onto Travers’s face. Then he turned and ran away.

As Travers lay there, trying to breathe, he thought, This will take days to heal.

But then CeCe álvarez was kneeling beside him, Stephanie Yoon standing behind her. Lifting her hand, álvarez gave a little wave and said, “Hi, Travers.”

Their past dealings roared up between them, a tidal wave of brutal memories, and Maurice knew he was fucked.

Holding out her hand, álvarez took the axe Yoon handed to her and stood.

When the blade came down on his neck, severing all but the tiniest bit of sinew between his head and spine, he knew his recovery had just gone from days to absolute months.

* * *

He walked into the unappealing kitchen of their New Jersey hideaway to get an espresso before the family meeting, but froze in the doorway when he saw his first cousin dead on the floor.

Pulling his gun, he stepped away from the kitchen and back into the hallway. He motioned to his brother, but he just stood there. Then his brother’s mouth slowly opened, and blood poured out. When his body dropped, she was standing behind him with a blade in her right hand.

He pointed his gun, but she already had a gun in her left hand. He didn’t even know where she got it from, she moved so fast. This gun had a suppressor, and she immediately pulled the trigger twice—

* * *

Charlie stepped over the body and stayed in the shadows as she moved down the hallway. Her allergies were acting up again, so she struggled to smell anything. She’d have to rely on all her other instincts to keep herself alive.

As she stared down the hallway, she glanced back and noticed that the cat she’d just shot twitched. It could be a dying twitch or he was still alive. She moved back to stand beside him and put two more bullets in his head.