Toni grinned. “Yes. Let’s. You big, adorable bear, you.”
Twelve hours. Twelve hours to negotiate one goddamn hockey game. During that time, Ricky and Vic had stood behind or beside Toni—Vic sometimes briefly stepping out to answer phone calls—while Toni handled it all like a pro. She never looked tired, even though Ricky was sure that she was exhausted down to her toes. Nor did she snap when the bears made things difficult. And like most bears, these Russian bears certainly enjoyed making things difficult.
Like now, when the bears had agreed to almost all the terms except one. Although they wouldn’t insist on putting Novikov in a cage, they were insisting that the man was to be shackled before and after game time. Toni kept reminding them that the damage done to their coach had happened during a game, so what would be the point of chaining her player before and after? But the bears wouldn’t be moved on this point and Ricky was thinking Toni was about to give up and decide to head on home. Especially when her cell phone went off.
Toni glanced at the screen, while one of the bears muttered, “Rude,” as she did.
“Everything all right?” Ricky asked her.
“Just Cooper.” She sighed, glancing up at Ricky. “He’s wondering when I’m heading home.”
“I can’t believe Cooper Jean-Louis Parker is your brother,” Vic suddenly announced . . . rather loudly. So loudly that both Ricky and Toni looked at the man. He shrugged. “Just an observation.”
“Cooper Jean-Louis Parker?” Zubachev repeated, and all the bears’ eyes locked on Toni. Ricky stepped even closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. Standing there for the last twelve hours had allowed him to come up with all sorts of exit strategies should things turn nasty. “You know Cooper Jean-Louis Parker?”
“He’s her brother,” Vic said, moving closer to the table and Toni.
Zubachev snorted. “Lie. The freak cat lies.”
“I find that very hurtful, Ivan.”
“Shut up.” Zubachev glared across the table at Toni. “Prove he is your brother or I believe nothing.”
Toni shrugged and again looked at her phone. She began scanning a ton of pictures—how much memory does her camera have anyway?—but instead of choosing, Toni kept muttering things like, “Nah. Not that one, I look too fat. No. Coop has that ridiculous smile. No. If I show that one, Cherise will be mad.”
Fed up and exhausted himself, Ricky took the phone from her, flipped through a couple more pictures until he found one that showed brother and sister hugging each other and grinning into the camera. He sent the camera skidding across the table right at Zubachev.
The bear stared at the tiny screen, the other bears soon getting out of their chairs and surrounding him, all staring at the small phone in his giant hand.
After nearly a minute, they all looked up at Toni.
“You truly know him,” Zubachev said. “You know The Coop.”
“I better,” Toni muttered. “He used to throw his dirty diapers at me. I better not have gone through that for no reason.”
“The Coop,” another bear said, grinning. “The man.” Then Ricky watched twelve bears of varying sizes and colors pretend to play air-piano.
It was . . . weird. Yeah. That was the best word for it. Weird.
“You talked all sorts of crap about canines,” Toni reminded Zubachev, “but you love my brother?”
“He plays music like god,” Zubachev cheered. “Species does not matter when man play like that.”
“He’s still a canine.”
“He is The Coop,” Zubachev insisted, as if that explained everything. “You should be proud to be his sister!”
“I am!” Toni snapped back, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. She leaned back in her chair, huffing and puffing a bit, when Vic kneed the back of her seat. Glaring, Toni looked at the man. Vic raised his brows and motioned to Zubachev.
After a moment, Toni focused back on Zubachev. She studied him and, finally, said, “You know . . . He’s doing a tour in Russia in September. I’m sure I could get him to add this territory to his itinerary.”
Zubachev smirked. “What price?”
“His usual rate, because that’s the least he deserves. The concert would be open to all species and breeds and, of course, dinner with his host. But no chains for Novikov. Instead, we will rely on Novikov’s commitment to me not to harm anyone. This, of course, is only in effect if none of you”—and she looked hard at all the players at the table—“challenge him while off the ice. Commit to that, and my brother will happily do this favor for me.”
Zubachev tried for a casual shrug. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll make sure he plays ‘Flight of the Bumblebee.’ ”
A few of the players gasped and then they were all whispering to Zubachev in Russian.
Ricky crouched down next to her. “ ‘Flight of the Bumblebee? ’ Heard that one was hard.”
“Yeah, it is. Written by a Russian composer.” She glanced at Ricky and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Coop mastered it when he was three.”
Ricky snorted just as Zubachev looked over at them.
“It is deal, little doggie.” The grizzly grinned. “You negotiate like Russian sow.”
“Awww,” Toni said, her returning smile warm. “Thank you! That is so sweet.”
Only to other shifters, maybe, but that worked for now.
“Now we toast!” Zubachev announced. “Aleksai! Get the vodka!”
Vic tapped Ricky’s shoulder and motioned him over to a corner with a tilt of his head. His gaze still on Toni while she winced and cringed her way through a shot of homemade Russian bear vodka, Ricky stepped next to Vic.
“What is it?”
“I’m coming back with you.”
“Why?”
“Orders from Dee-Ann. Plus she wants us to keep an even tighter watch on Antonella.”
“But she knows The Coop,” he said dryly.
Vic chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the problem. She said we’ll find out everything when we get back. I’ve already notified the airline we’re coming. Okay?”
Ricky eyed the hybrid closely. “You sure you don’t know any more than that?”
“If I’d spoken to someone else, I might be lying. But you know Dee-Ann. Do you really think we had a long, meaningful conversation about issues?”
“Well, we all know what a chatty little love bug she is.”
Shaking his head, Vic walked away and Ricky faced Toni, who was currently being bear-hugged off her feet by Ivan Zubachev. She didn’t seem too happy about that, but for her job . . . she was putting up with it.
He let out a breath and forced a smile. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out before they got her home. Not because she’d be worried about herself. She wouldn’t be. He knew that now. But if her family was in trouble . . . ? Well, to quote Ricky’s fellow New Yorkers, Oy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dee-Ann unlocked the front door and walked into the rental house the jackals were living in. She made it halfway down the hall before any adult jackal came out. It was Jackie Jean-Louis. She nodded at Dee as she rushed by and headed up the stairs.
“Morning, Dee,” she called down from the top stairs. “There’s Danish in the kitchen and dining room if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you kindly,” Dee called back, disturbed that no one seemed to notice a near-stranger in their home. No wonder shady government types were wandering around the house, undetected.
Dee walked a few more feet, and that’s when Cooper came out of the dining room. Like his mother, he appeared completely distracted as he walked, ate a raspberry-filled Danish, and stared down at the floor.
“Mornin’ to you, Cooper.”
The jackal stopped, blinked several times as if trying to bring her into focus. “Oh. Morning, Dee-Ann.”
“Everything all right here?”
“Define all right?”
“Pardon?”
The swinging kitchen door at
the end of the hallway flew open and Dee and Cooper came face to face with Jeff Stewart, a security specialist who worked at Bobby Ray’s company, and a lion male currently covered in flour. Seemed kind of pissed off, too.
“We have a problem,” the feline announced.
“What problem?”
“We thought we were protecting older kids, Smith. No one said anything about toddlers.”
“What? You can’t handle a few toddlers?”
“I’m a lion male.”
“You feelin’ the need to kill the toddlers so that their mother will go back in heat?”
Gold eyes narrowed. “No. But I’m a professional. I don’t handle toddlers.”
“How bad can they be?”
Stewart turned, a shower of flour hitting Dee and Cooper in the face.
Coughing and brushing the flour aside, they followed Stewart back to the kitchen.
Flour, ground coffee, coffee beans, sugar, cocoa, and gobs of peanut butter were everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.
Dee shook her head, disgusted. “You couldn’t get control of two little girls before they did all this?”
“They’re not little girls,” Stewart snapped back. “They’re demon spawn!” He pointed at the two girls. They calmly sat on the counter, both clean except for their hands, which had lots of peanut butter . . . oh, and jelly. Their little feet swung back and forth, kicking the wood doors of the counter with their heels.
“Bonne journée,” said one.
“Guten tag,” said the other.
Then they both smiled.
“I’m out of here,” the lion told them.
Cooper raised his hand. “Wait. I’m sure we can figure out something so you don’t have to worry about them.” When the lion’s eyes narrowed . . . “I promise.”
The lion pushed the swinging kitchen door open. “Whatever.”
“I love cats.” Dee smiled at the shocked expression on Cooper’s face. “They’re all so dang moody.”
Facing the twins, Cooper demanded, “What did I tell you two?”
“Du hast gesagt—”
“In English, Zia.”
The two girls took each other’s peanut butter–covered hands and began simultaneously in English, “Stay with us—”
“And do not quote The Shining. You know people freak out when you two do that.”
Their smiles suggested that yes, they did know that freaked people out.
“Have y’all thought about getting these two a nanny?”
“Nanny?” Coop repeated, as if he’d never heard the word before.
“Yeah. A nanny. Rich people have ’em all the time.”
“But we’re jackals.”
“Your family is also damn weird. If you’re freakin’ out the king of the jungle, you might need special care. Or, at the very least, someone with a high tolerance for weird.”
They both looked at the twins, and in response the girls pursed their lips and made smacking sounds. Air kisses. It was cute and terrifying all at the same time because they did it in unison.
“A very high tolerance for weird.”
Cooper shook his head. “Toni’s going to freak out about this. Shit.” He pulled out his cell phone. “When does she get home again?”
“Shit,” one of the twins repeated, smiling.
“Shit,” her sister parroted.
“Merde.”
“Hovno.”
“Stront.”
“Merda.”
“Mierda.”
Dee stared at the three-year-old twins. “Lord . . . how many languages do y’all know?” Then she frowned and focused on their brother when she realized something else. “And how the heck do they know about The Shining?”
“Why are you looking at me? It was probably Kyle who let them watch it.”
“Kyle’s eleven.”
“Physically, maybe.” He held up his phone. “Found the text. She should be back tonight.”
“Good thing. Y’all run wild when she ain’t here.”
A kiss on her forehead woke Toni up, her cheek resting against his chest while Ricky held her.
“We’re almost home, darlin’,” he whispered. “Time to put your seat belt on.”
Yawning, Toni sat up and pushed off the blanket covering her. She put on her seat belt and glanced over at the seats on the other side of the aisle.
“Why is he here?” she asked again. She’d asked when Barinov had checked in with them at the airport in Russia, but Ricky had given her some vague bullshit answer she didn’t buy. Yet she hadn’t bothered to push for an answer then. She was too far away to do anything if something had gone wrong at home, and she didn’t want to start freaking out on the flight. So she’d waited. But with their plane descending, she wanted answers.
Ricky seemed to understand that when he replied, “There was a break-in at your rental house. Everyone’s fine. The kids weren’t home.”
Toni nodded. “Okay.”
“I talked to Dee-Ann before we got on the plane. Your honey badger friend apparently went into action as soon as this happened. She pulled in my company and your aunt Irene called in Dee-Ann.”
“Whatever for?”
“Irene seems to think the government was involved. Whoever it was tried to make it look like no one had been there, and if we weren’t shifters, we wouldn’t have known they had been.”
“But everyone’s safe?”
“Very safe. Darlin’, you can’t get safer than when Dee-Ann’s involved. Unless you’re on the wrong side of her.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but—”
“No, no. I understand. I would have just spent the whole flight freaking out, and that’s how jackals end up on shifter no-fly lists. I can’t afford that.” She studied him. “But any other time . . . don’t hide anything from me about my family.”
“I know.” She could tell from his expression he took her warning seriously. “Trust me.”
And she did. At least about this.
“You’re exhausted,” he murmured, brushing her hair off her face.
“I am. But so are you.”
“I’ll get you home and then we’ll figure it out from there. Okay? No decisions when we’re this tired.”
“Fair enough.”
He kissed her then, and Toni began to wonder what would happen when they were fully awake and over their jet lag. Because this simple kiss had her toes curling inside her boots.
“I’m sorry,” one of the flight attendants said, a smile on her feline face. “You need to put your seats up. We’re cleared to land.”
Nodding, Toni brought her seat up. Once the flight attendant walked away to check on the rest of the passengers, Ricky leaned over and whispered, “You keep kissing me like that, darlin’, and we won’t be figuring out anything except which side of the bed you like to sleep on.”
It wasn’t even seven a.m. when Oriana sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of hot oatmeal and a bottle of cold water. She’d been up since five thirty so she could get warmed up for the day’s classes. Plus there was a competition coming up that she was excited about because it could lead to huge possibilities for her career.
Her career. That’s all Oriana really ever thought about. Dancing and her career as a dancer. She knew that most girls her age were spending their summers hanging out with friends, going to movies, listening to music, and trying to get the cutest guys to notice them. But Oriana knew she wasn’t “most girls.” She’d been given a gift and she wasn’t going to waste it on shitty music, annoying frenemies, and some guy who would end up sleeping with her best friend or something. Besides, Oriana had her family and with them she didn’t have to make excuses for why she couldn’t go out or why she didn’t care about the latest blockbuster movie.
Honestly, all she cared about was getting her turns perfect, her extensions long, and her position as a world-famous prima ballerina secure.
Anything else didn’t mean much to her.
As Oriana worked her way through her oatmeal, her siblings came to the table. Five-year-old Dennis and the twins would be staying with their father for the day while the rest of them had classes all over the city. Well . . . all except Delilah, but she never really figured in their family plans. If Oriana was to be honest, Delilah never seemed part of the family at all. As horrible as Oriana, Kyle, and Troy could be to anyone who got in their way, Delilah was definitely worse. Like a dangerously unstable visiting relative rather than an immediate member of the family they were all forced to tolerate.
And while the rest of the kids tore into the breakfast their mother had made, Delilah silently slipped out the back door, probably not to be seen again until much later tonight.
Involuntarily shuddering, still seeing that blade perilously close to her eyes, Oriana went back to focusing on eating her breakfast when she saw Freddy’s head snap up. He sniffed the air again, his little face twisting as he tried to make sense of what he was smelling. But then his eyes grew wide, his face flushing with excitement, and he jumped off his chair and took off running.
When their mother and father grinned at each other and pushed away from the table, Oriana knew that Toni was home. The rest of the kids followed their parents except for Oriana, Kyle, and Troy.
“I guess she’s back then,” Kyle muttered into his plate of eggs and bacon.
Troy pushed his food away. “Finally. Thought she was planning to stay in Russia, she took so long.”
“Maybe she should have.” Oriana scratched the back of her neck.
“Yeah,” Troy agreed. “Because we don’t need her.”
“Right.” Kyle nodded. “We don’t need her.” He briefly toyed with his bacon before adding, “And we should tell her that to her face.”
Agreeing, the three of them jumped up from the table and headed for the front door. To tell their sister how they didn’t need her. At all.
Toni had just put Freddy back on the floor after hugging the little bugger off his little feet and she was reaching for Dennis when she was tackled by three insolent bastards. She would have hit the floor, too, if Ricky hadn’t been standing behind her. He kept her standing as Oriana, Kyle, and Troy all hugged her tight.
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