Wolf With Benefits

by Shelly Laurenston

  “No!” Toni ordered. The full-human stopped and turned to her. “Go,” she snapped in a harsh growl. “Go now!”

  The full-human gazed at her, brow pulled down in confusion.

  Delilah floated back, her hand lightly touching the full-human’s arm. “It’s all right,” she soothed in her soft, lilting voice. “Come on. I have food for you. Something cool to drink.”

  “No!” Toni jumped to her feet. She used that same tone when unleashed aggressive dogs randomly charged her family on the streets. As canines that sort of thing happened to them more often than it did to other families.

  “Out.” She watched the full-human analyze the situation. He wasn’t a nice man. He wasn’t homeless because of mental illness or unmanageable circumstances that could happen to even the best people. Instead, he’d ended up this way because he stayed in the shadows and did things for quick money and a quick fix. But that didn’t matter to Toni. She couldn’t allow it to matter. Not in her parents’ house.

  So she did what she had to do. She bared her fangs and barked and yipped until the full-human ran off.

  She faced her sister. “We had this discussion,” Toni said calmly, softly. She didn’t bother raising her voice with Delilah. It was ineffective and probably just made things worse.

  “You were very cruel,” her sister softly chastised. “He could have used a good meal.”

  “Again, we’ve had this discussion. You don’t pick up strangers off the street. You don’t pick up anything off the street. No squirrels, no cats, no full-humans. No postman, no Arctic foxes. Understand?”

  Delilah didn’t answer, she simply stared and Toni stared back.

  The twins shot into the room again from another doorway. While keeping eye contact with Delilah, Toni caught hold of her sisters by the hands still gripping weapons. She yanked the knife and scissors away and handed them off to Coop—handles first, of course, because his hands were insured for nearly a million dollars. Then she grabbed both pups and held each under an arm.

  “Do you understand?” she pushed her sister.

  “Yes,” Delilah replied. “I understand.” Then she floated off down the hallway.

  “I’m sorry!” Cherise yelped as she stumbled into the room. She wore shorts, and Toni could easily see blood dripping down her legs from cuts, as well as blood all over her forearms, which was probably because she hadn’t used her hands to try to grab the twins—not when those hands were insured for five hundred thousand. “I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s all right. I got them.”

  No, Toni realized with an internal sigh. She couldn’t go off and abandon her family no matter what her father or Aunt Irene said. Mostly because Toni was the only one with hands that could be sacrificed if necessary.

  She’d have to tell Ulrich—

  “Uh . . . Toni?”

  Toni looked over at her brother. “What?”

  He dipped his head a bit and Toni looked down to see that Zia had her phone. Her little fingers pushing on the bright screen.

  “Oh . . . crud.”

  “Bonjour, Oncle Ric!” Zia cheered, holding the phone up for Toni to see. “Bonjour!”

  Coop leaned in when the phone vibrated and read the new text. “And Ric replies, ‘Welcome aboard, cousin!’ ”

  “Dammit!”

  Toni tried to maneuver the twins around so she could get the phone back and quickly text Ulrich a retraction, but Coop took the phone from their baby sister and began texting while walking away.

  “What are you doing?” Toni demanded, following her brother with the giggling twins still in her arms.

  “Telling Ric thanks for the welcome and that no matter what I text him tonight, ignore it because it’ll just be my usual stupid panic.”

  “Cooper!”

  “Ric replies that it’s too late for any of that. He’s already sent an e-mail to the team that you’re on board. Oh, look, sis! You’ve already started getting e-mails. A thank-you from someone named Malone and a list of things to do from someone Russian. Novikov? Look at you with your fancy friends.”

  “Coop, come on!”

  He stopped walking, faced her. “Let it go, sis. You’re in.”

  Toni lifted her arms to show Cooper the twins. “And what am I supposed to do about these two? Who is going to take care of them?”

  “Their mother.” Toni turned and her mother stood there, smiling at her. “Just got a text from Ric congratulating me on my wonderful daughter.”

  Good God! How fast does Ric text? He was shooting out e-mails, sending texts . . . it was like he was a twelve-year-old girl!

  Jackie took her twin daughters out of Toni’s arms. “I’m going to put these two to bed.” She leaned in and kissed Toni’s cheek. “I’m very proud of you, baby.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Jackie headed out of the room. “Come on, Cherise. I’ll show you how to manage these two and protect your hands.”

  Cherise followed. “I was thinking falconer’s gloves.”

  “Those are good. You also may want to look into chainmail gloves.”

  Standing behind Toni, Coop rested his head on her shoulder. “Chainmail gloves?”

  “It worked in the Middle Ages.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Toni walked into the kitchen the next morning and looked over her family seated at the big wooden table, eating their breakfast.

  “Anyone seen the dog?”

  Kyle dropped his fork onto his plate. “You get this fancy job and now you don’t even remember our names?”

  “I don’t mean you. I’m talking about the actual dog. I should walk him since I’m sure none of you will.”

  “We have a dog now?”

  “You all played with her last night.”

  Her family gazed at her. Even her mother . . . who’d actually gotten the dog.

  “Where’s Dad?” Toni asked, needing to speak to someone with actual sense, but they all pointed in random directions, which didn’t really help her. “Useless,” she muttered. “All of you . . . brilliant but useless.”

  “But we are brilliant,” Troy said, grinning. “And isn’t that’s what’s important?”

  “No.”

  Toni walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. As she neared the front door, it opened and her father walked in with the dog on what was probably the little crap leash that came with her from the pound.

  “She’s nice,” he said, pointing at the dog. “I’ll pick her up a real leash and collar this afternoon.”

  “Thanks for walking her and not just putting her outside.”

  “Of course. Besides, I think the kids should have a dog.”

  “They should?”

  “The more interaction they have with something other than—”

  “Their own ego?”

  Paul chuckled and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Good luck today.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” She stepped back. “How do I look?”

  Her father looked her over. “Like you run a banking empire.”

  Toni glanced down at the suit she’d borrowed from her mother. “I can shop for something new this weekend.”

  “You hate clothes shopping.”

  “I know.” She sighed.

  Looking up at her father, Toni hopefully asked, “Walk with me to the subway?”

  “No,” he said simply, surprising her. “You’ll be fine on your own.” Then he sort of shoved her out the door, briefly stopping to grab her backpack and shoving it into her arms. “You have a good first day, baby.” He winked and closed the door in her face.

  Shocked—her father loved to go walking with her—Toni turned to head down the steps and into her new life.

  “Mornin’.”

  Toni stopped and stared. Ricky Reed sat on the stone handrail eating nuts. Almonds, it looked like.

  “Morning. What are you doing here?”

  “You left me hanging.”

  “Hanging? About what?”

  “Whether you took the
job or not.”

  “You’re here at seven in the morning because you wanted to know if I took the job with the Carnivores?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re a strange wolf.”

  “Some might say.”

  Not sure where this conversation was going, Toni said, “Look, I have to go.”

  “Need some company?”

  “Company?”

  Ricky slid off the handrail, tossed the rest of the almonds in his mouth, and gently took her arm. He moved down the rest of the stairs, and Toni was forced to walk with him.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  “I guess. Hard not to be.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Toni stopped on the street and the wolf stopped with her. “What if I’m not?”

  “What if you’re not what?”

  “Fine. What if I’m not fine? What if instead of fine, I just suck.”

  “I watched you yesterday, Toni. You were made for this job.”

  “You’re right.” She nodded, desperate to believe him. “You’re right. This is probably not as big of a deal as I’m making it.”

  “Right.”

  “Ulrich is like my cousin. He’s family. This is probably just a cute title with some cash to make me feel better.”

  “Well, I didn’t say—”

  “I’m sure this isn’t a”—she made air quotes—“ ‘real job.’ Right?”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  Feeling better, understanding that this wasn’t a real job, just something to keep her busy over the summer, Toni started off again toward the subway. When she and the wolf reached the corner, a limo cut in front of them. The driver’s side door opened and the mountain lion from yesterday stepped out of the car.

  Toni threw up her hands. “Mr. Van Holtz,” she snapped, “already told you he’d pay for your goddamn limo!”

  “I know. This is it.”

  Toni’s mouth dropped open. “You made him buy you a Mercedes limo? Damn cats!” She swiped her arms to the side. “Get out of our way!”

  “I’m here for you.”

  “So you can show off the new limo you stole from a very nice canine!”

  “No,” the cat snarled back. “I’m your new driver . . . bitch.”

  Toni smirked. “That is such utter bullshit.”

  “You sure are saucy today,” the wolf teased.

  “Quiet.” She refocused on the cat. “The Carnivores are giving me a new car. Ric wouldn’t waste money on a limo for me, too.”

  “You’re still getting a new car for your personal time. The limo is so you won’t have to worry about traffic and can work and take phone meetings. By the way, your new phone is in the back and I think you’re supposed to be on a call right now with one of the Russian teams. Something about arranging a security detail because of what Novikov did to their coach when he was on the Minnesota team. I heard it was really ugly and the team had to sneak out of Russia.”

  “Isn’t it called the Soviet Union now?”

  “Good God,” the cat sneered. “Russia hasn’t been called the Soviet Union since they disbanded in the nineties.”

  “Well when they keep changing their name how am I supposed to keep track?” Ricky shot back. “I’m an American! Our country has only had one name!”

  Toni rubbed her eyes. “I have to go.”

  “You okay?” the wolf asked her softly while simultaneously giving the cat the finger.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Today’s going to be great. You’ll see.”

  “Okay.”

  She forced a smile and walked to the limo. “You going to open the door for me?” she asked the cat.

  “Just get in the damn car, canine.”

  “Bastard,” she muttered before getting in the limo and answering her new phone.

  Ricky walked into the Llewellyn Security offices and barely ducked a fist to the face.

  “Bastard!”

  Laughing, Ricky backed away from his irate baby brother. “Mornin’ to you, too, hoss.”

  “You left me alone with them,” Reece accused. “You left me alone with She-wolves who were worried about you. Who spent the entire time talking about you and that girl you fucked ten thousand years ago. And I, big brother, was trapped in a cage—and unable to get away!”

  Mindy, the cheetah receptionist, giggled but quickly turned away when Reece glared at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Ricky said, and he really meant it. “I’m sorry. I panicked, and I ran. Just like Daddy taught us.”

  “Don’t blame our dear, sweet daddy for this.”

  “He always said, when you hear the click of a gun, the growl of a momma bear, or the concern of a She-wolf . . . you run. You run like the Devil himself is on your ass. And that’s what I did. And you would have done the same.”

  “You’re still a bastard.”

  “I know. But I also know you understand.”

  Ricky patted his brother on the shoulder and headed to his office. He stepped inside, ready to get to work, when a voice from the corner of the room stopped him cold.

  “Hey, big brother.”

  Hearing his sister’s voice, Ricky headed right back to the door, but Reece was there, grinning, as he yanked the door closed. Grabbing wildly for the doorknob, Ricky desperately pulled on it, but a strong hand gripped his shoulder and dragged him over to a chair, shoving him into it.

  Sissy Mae Smith, younger sister of Bobby Ray Smith, stroked his cheek. “You poor, poor thing. How hard this must be for you.”

  Ricky glowered at the Alpha Female of his Pack because he was aware that while his sister was honestly concerned, Sissy Mae knew better. But like many of the Smith She-wolves, she was a vicious little instigator. He’d never known anyone who loved tormenting a body more than Sissy Mae Smith . . . except maybe her momma or that lion Sissy Mae was mated to.

  “You can’t avoid this,” Ronnie Lee said, stepping forward. Only a few weeks pregnant, she wasn’t even showing, but her emotions had been a nightmare of love and concern since she’d conceived. Ricky knew this wouldn’t last once the pup was born, but the thought of putting up with “concerned Ronnie” as Rory called her, was beginning to make Ricky Lee panic.

  He loved his sister, couldn’t wait to meet his nephew, but he wanted the baby sister who, when a few years ago he was kind of sad about breaking up with some girl he couldn’t even remember now, told him, “Get the fuck over it, Ricky Lee. She’s probably already fucking somebody else by now.”

  Lord, he wanted that Ronnie Lee back! Not this one who was stroking his head like he was a wounded dog she’d found on the side of a busy highway and needed to rush to a vet to have his leg removed.

  “I know this is hard, Ricky Lee. I know how you felt about Laura Jane.”

  “You mean when I was eighteen? And lived by my dick?”

  “It’s all right. We’re here for you.”

  Then his sister was hugging him. Ronnie Lee was hugging him.

  Someone kill me now.

  “They want what?”

  Toni looked at the notes she’d barely managed to scribble as the interpreter for the Russian coach had rattled off the Siberian shifter team’s demands for the international game. She read the demands out loud again, stopping when Cella Malone said, “That one.”

  Her long legs up on the table, her long black hair streaked with white and orange-red strands, Cella Malone crossed her arms over her chest and took in a deep breath before asking, “They want Novikov in a cage?”

  “Yes. Um . . . before and after the game, and during, uh, half-time.”

  “And you agreed to that?”

  “No.”

  “What did you agree to?”

  Toni, getting the feeling she’d screwed up, admitted, “Nothing.”

  “Did you negotiate?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Toni glanced around at the table full of people and said, “Didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  “D
id you at least say no?”

  “No.”

  “Then Yuri”—the Moscow coach—“thinks you agreed.”

  “But I didn’t agree.”

  “But you didn’t say you didn’t agree.”

  “But I didn’t say I agreed, either.”

  “Yuri won’t care. As far as he’s concerned, we’ll be putting Novikov into a cage. Not that I blame the man. It’s been a few years, but that poor bear is still recovering from what Novikov did to him. But Novikov isn’t going into a cage. And we’re not playing the Siberian team without him, because I don’t like to lose. And playing against a team made up of polars, tigers, and a couple of foxes is what nightmares are made of.” Cella sighed and shook her head. “I’ll call Yuri myself.”

  “No, no.” Toni shook her head and fought her desire to shift to jackal and start chewing on the furniture out of anxiety. “I can deal with it.”

  “Yeah,” one of the department heads cut in. “You did such a great job already with Novikov in a cage and everything.”

  Toni glared across the table at a fellow canine, a red fox, but she bit back her automatic, Kyle-like response.

  “I’m sure,” Toni tried to insist to Cella, “that I can handle this. I just need you to—”

  “Could you guys get out?” Cella asked everyone else.

  The other department heads quickly left, leaving Toni alone with the big She-cat. She was really a stunning beauty, but Toni couldn’t ignore those knuckles of hers. They were bloody and torn, like she’d just been in a fight. And everyone knew about the Malones. A tiger family of one-time Irish Travelers who had a very tough reputation among shifters. So Toni really didn’t want to get on the wrong side of this woman.

  “Look, kid,” Cella began. “I know you’re new to this, but you need to step it up. I’ve got a lot going on,” she complained, rubbing her forehead. “And a killer headache. I mean you did a great job with Novikov and with Bert. Better than anyone else. Plus you got Ric Van Holtz’s stamp of approval. All of these are good things. But don’t think for a minute that your connection with Van Holtz is going to protect you. You don’t get this job right . . . I’m firing your ass and Van Holtz isn’t going to override my decision. So step up your game.”