It's admirable, and I don't know her enough to fuck with that.
The elevator's clear ding echoes through the enclosed room before the doors slide open.
Just as I'm about to walk out, a familiar face stops me. It's like worlds colliding, and it rattles me.
"T-Bone? Is that you?" Ben is just as surprised to see me here as I am to see him.
Although I really wish he hadn't used that painful nickname to greet me. I was hoping Mila would never learn of it. It's too late, though. Her perfect eyebrows are already arched into a question. She'll be asking me about that later.
Ben Beaufort is an old family friend. Our parents got together a few times, taking all of us kids camping to find a few good grazing spots. Cattle shifters always find a way to graze in groups. Eating in large social groups is good for the digestion.
"Ben, hey. I heard you had joined the Academy." We do a quick hug and back pat by way of greeting. I can feel Mila's eyes roaming over me with curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" Ben asks, still fairly shocked to see me at FUCNA. After all, I work for a human police force, and it's not common knowledge that I am the liaison between FUCNA and the RCMP.
"Here on a case," I answer, gesturing to Mila.
"You get to work with Mila?" He smiles at me like I'm in for it.
I already know that. She will definitely be an interesting partner to work with.
"That's right." I shoot her a smile.
"Well, good luck with that," Ben says before retreating into the elevator.
Mila leads me down the hall toward the cafeteria. For a few precious seconds, I think that I'm home free, that she won't ask me about the T-Bone thing.
"So...T-Bone? Why the hell is your nickname T-Bone?" She doesn't even try to contain her smile.
"Because my last name starts with a T and because I'm a Hairy Coo."
"A what now?"
"Highland Cattle, you know those great red-haired bulls from Scotland? I have wicked horns," I add, giving her a sly smile.
"Wait." Her eyes open wide in panic. "Aren't those bred for meat?"
"Yes," I confirm.
Laughter explodes out of her. "That is both hilarious and kind of fucked up. How is T-Bone better than your actual name?"
I clamp my mouth shut, avoiding her gaze.
"Agent Thrussell, let me see your badge." Mila's entire face is lit up like she's about to solve a great big mystery.
"No, that's okay."
Without warning, Mila's hand shoots out, going for my back pocket where I'm storing my badge. Her fingers graze my ass, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I close my hand around hers, trying to stop her process, but it's no use. She's already opened the badge.
"Courtney Thrussell III?" She reads it again before looking up to me. "Your parents called you Courtney?"
"They did," I confirm. "It's my grandfather's name and my father's as well. It's a well-known name in the RCMP. Besides, my father says that it was good for me to have a name like Courtney growing up."
"Your dad Johnny Cashed you." Her laugh is musical, even the little snort that surprises the hell out of her. She covers her mouth as she starts humming A Boy Named Sue.
"Historically speaking, Courtney was a masculine name,” I try to defend. The fact is true, but it does nothing to staunch her giggles. I won’t say that I like the sound of her laugh. Nope. Not even a little bit. Especially not the way it tickles down my back, warming my heart.
"Sure, T-Bone. That's what I'm calling you from now on, by the way."
We walk into the cafeteria, and Mila immediately goes to the cash register. I watch with interest as she interacts with the staff while I grab a few things because I am always hungry. Contrary to popular beliefs, cattle do not have four stomachs. We do, however, have a very complex digestive system, which does leave us feeling peckish more often than not.
One of the staff members scurries off into the back and soon returns with an opened to-go container on which a patty of raw meat sits. I don't miss the way Mila's eyes grow wide in anticipation.
"What is that?" I point to her repulsive-looking meal as we make our way out of the cafeteria on the way to Director Cooper’s office.
"Steak tartare," she answers, taking a reverent bite.
Really, that is the only way to describe it. Her eyes roll back before she closes them, her lips sliding along the fork.
Mila is eating raw cow.
I’m bovine.
Very much unlike me, I have a dirty thought as I wonder if there is another type of beef cut she would like to taste. Particularly something in my southern region.
I shake the thought from my head, choosing to focus on the dish instead.
"That is very disgusting,” I state. “Is it supposed to be that...juicy?" Really, it's blood that is pooled at the bottom of the Styrofoam container. I try not to be grossed out, but it's difficult.
"Have you ever had steak tartare?" she asks.
"That would be a firm no."
"Well, then you can't say anything. The staff keeps it on hand, especially for me and cadets like me. I am definitely not the only one who enjoys it. Try it. It’s guaranteed not to be a shifter."
She stops walking, and with her fork, she digs into the raw ground beef and reaches over to me, letting it hover near my lips. It doesn't smell all that bad, but it's the look in her eyes that makes me pause.
Mila's blue eyes seem to be on fire as she watches for my reaction. I lean forward, close my lips around the prongs, and take the bite into my mouth. Savory sourness bursts on my tongue.
"Hmm." I swallow slowly, my gaze still glued to Mila's. "It's actually pretty good."
She tosses her long red hair over her shoulder with a triumphant smile. "Technically, I just watched cannibalism."
My face falls for all of two seconds until her laugh bubbles out of her. "I'm joking, but your expression was well worth it. FUC would never use non-certified dealers, so all the food here is guaranteed to be non-shifter.”
She scoops more of the tartare onto the fork and cocks an eyebrow, daring me to take another bite. I do, but this time, I reach out for her fingers, stabilizing her shaking hand.
“Does this curb the vampire bat’s craving for blood?”
Mila rolls her eyes and starts walking, munching as she goes. “It depends. Sometimes, as soon as I shift, I’m flying off to the nearest mammal to get a fix. I have to do it, though. We die if we don’t ingest blood at least once a night. It’s barely a teaspoon of blood, so the animal doesn’t even feel it."
"I guess it makes sense that your mother would have a fascination with blood."
Nice one, jackass.
Did I really have to go there?
"Sorry,” I mumble. I do find the information interesting. Markov is a hematologist who is also a vampire bat. That’s just a fancy way of saying that she is a blood doctor who actually needs to ingest blood to survive.
Mila’s eyes catch my own, and she shrugs. "Totally fine,” she says. “You're not wrong."
In short, Mila is fascinating. She is equal parts chaos and control.
She keeps surprising me. Coming here, I knew I was getting an expert in all things Sveta Markov. I didn't expect to be working with Markov's daughter. And I sure as hell didn't anticipate that she would have a war room dedicated to her mother’s crimes.
To solve them. To give the families some closure. It takes a special kind of person to do that, and I admire Mila.
It takes strength of character to do that.
Mila isn't conventional in the least, which is usually my type. But there's something about her that calls to me. Typically, the women I am attracted to are predictable. It's what I prefer.
I never know what might come out of Mila's mouth next, and I've known her only a few hours.
If anything, working with her should prove to be interesting and a test of my composure.
5
Mila
I don't even have to knock on Direc
tor Cooper's office door.
It swings open to reveal my boss in all her tall, powerful glory. She's dressed in a killer red power suit, and her face is pulled into an unimpressed look.
"Took you long enough. I was just heading out to make sure you found our resident Dracula." Her words are aimed at T-Bone, who is standing right beside me.
I barely contain my eye roll. Director Cooper is a badass, and I definitely don't want to piss her off. I deal with all of her vampire jokes because I am extremely grateful to work for her.
As a bat, I’m in an odd position. Though I am a mammal, I fly. My body might by furry, but my wings aren’t. The Avian Soaring Society has been trying to get me on their team since I applied for FUC. They firmly believe that my expertise should be theirs, and theirs alone. But ASS is a stuffy place. I’m much more comfortable working here for Alyce. She has fought to keep me, and I don’t want to let her down, giving her faith in my abilities.
Really, it’s too bad it’s not the Mammal United Coalition instead of the Furry United Coalition. I’d never be asked to join ASS if the name was different.
"We were discussing Markov and our strategy," T-Bone cuts in before I can say anything.
"Good. That's good. We just sent out two of our teams to join the RCMP's manhunt. Are we still sure that we shouldn't alert the media?"
"I have the same concern," I say, earning me a nod from Director Cooper.
"Yes, I think it's best." His voice is clear. "I know you don't agree."
"I see it as your organization trying to save their own hide from public outcry. This is exactly why we wanted Markov kept in a FUC facility in the first place."
"Well, seeing as her victims, all hundreds of them, were human, we had to put her in a human prison. There was no other way to work around it. Or so I was told, because, let's be completely honest, that decision was made fifteen years ago when FUC was relatively new. Did the organization even have the resources to hold shifter prisoners then?” He gives Director Copper a small smile, but she doesn’t go for it. “Besides, it was way above my pay grade. I wasn't even a cadet yet. I'm sure we will agree that she needs to be relocated to a FUC jail once she is captured."
"I agree." Director Copper settles behind her desk, and she gestures for us to come in. "But I didn't get the impression that your superiors agreed. Before you go, we need to go over our strategy for getting Markov into FUC custody with minimal efforts. I need you to spare me a minute.”
Unlike my office, which would require me to clear off room for someone to sit, her office is meticulously clean, free of any clutter. T-Bone and I perch in the chairs across from her without any need to make space for us.
"My superiors definitely don't agree that Markov should be placed in FUC custody," T-Bone says, shaking his head in regret.
"I heard you're up for a big promotion. Superintendent. You'd be quite young to achieve that." The fact that Director Cooper looks impressed makes me look at T-Bone in a whole new way.
Not just as this very hot, very strait-laced man but also one who is competent enough to climb the ranks quickly.
"That's two full years older than my dad was when he got the title."
There's a sort of odd bitterness to his words. It's more regretful than nasty. It's not the time to delve into that, but Director Cooper doesn't miss the emotion, either. She fully leans into it, as only she would do.
"And you'd put that promotion on the line, go against your superiors, and demand Markov be placed in our custody. Break from family tradition to boot."
T-Bone nods. "No personal advancement is worth going against what is right for the greater good. My own ambitions come second."
Director Cooper breaks out in a smile that is half victorious and half impressed. "That's very noble," she says.
And she's right.
It is noble. Most agents I know would definitely defer to their bosses if any sort of prestige were on the line. Not because they're bad people or bad agents. It's just human nature to look out after yourself before thinking of the impact on your fellow man.
The fact that T-Bone is challenging this long-held belief of mine makes me happy and uncomfortable all at once. It definitely doesn't help that he is so hot.
"Not noble at all," he argues. "It's what's right." He punctuates that last thought with a shrug.
I can tell that it's a sore spot for him that his father was superintendent already at his age. I wonder if that's a point of discussion during family gatherings.
The only thing Dad and I talk about during our family time is what movies we've seen as we pass each other the chicken fried rice and egg rolls. Usually, he repeats about ten times per hour how proud he is of me. Though it's nice, I know that my dad works hard to counteract how things turned out with my mother.
I guess every family has their hang-ups. Ours is that one of our third is a killer. T-Bone’s is because he is a lazy layabout who didn't make superintendent quickly enough to beat out the family average.
"And so now that we've decided that Markov is to be imprisoned in a FUC jail, what is the next step?"
How Director Cooper just assumes she will get her way is one of the reasons why I absolutely fucking love her. She's a hardass, and she will most definitely get her way on this. She's as hardheaded as any other llama shifter.
"Well, we already have a lead." T-Bone shoots me a nod and a crooked grin.
How Mr. Conservative can make my heart beat fast and my core clench while I'm sitting in my boss's office, I will never be able to understand. The attraction is inconvenient as hell.
If he were a tall, lanky dude rocking a band shirt with a few tattoos marring his skin, then maybe I'd get it. He's the polar opposite to what usually gets my juices going.
"I just showed him the map," I clarify.
"Ah, yes. The map. Agent Thrussell, as I told you earlier, I'm very much concerned about this escape. Agent Starling will go with you. That is not negotiable."
T-Bone turns to me, his eyes going to mine. "Though I agree you would be a great asset to have while I search for her, if you would rather stay here, that's fine."
His concern is tangible. It was pretty clear to both of us in my lab that I was going with him. I try to find the motive behind his action of saying this in front of Director Cooper.
The only thing I can think of is that he wants to make sure I feel like I have a choice. An option.
A way out, if I should choose to have one.
It feels nice.
I don't actually remember the last time I've felt like I had a choice. All of my actions, from the time I was a teen to this very moment, have been reactive.
A reaction to the fact that my mother has killed a bunch of people.
A reaction to the fact that I am the only thing my dad has left.
A reaction to the fact that I'm scared to be a monster. Like her.
Director Cooper's eyes are trained on me, slightly narrowed. "Well, Mila? You're up for this." It's not a question. Her long neck is a force to be reckoned with. She twists it toward me. She knows me enough to know that, come hell or high water, there is no way I am backing down from this. Even if it was nice of T-Bone to give me a choice.
"I'm going with him," I answer. "I'm ready to go." I gesture to the messenger bag.
"Have you had your daily bite?" she asks. Another bad vampire joke.
"Yes, Director Cooper. Thank you."
"Fine. Let's recap, shall we? As soon as she is found, Markov will be brought to a shifter prison. The fact that she was able to escape is unacceptable."
"I agree." T-Bone sighs. "We're looking into the how. We already know she had an accomplice. It'll be a matter of figuring out who this person is and how he plays into all of this."
"Hmm," Director Cooper says. "And you have a solid lead to follow on her location?"
"I do," I answer. She knows I do, but like any good boss, she needs to make sure we've got this under control. The fates of my mother's future victims hang in the
balance.
It's not enough that half of the police force is out looking for her. We need to track her down using logic and strategy.
"I won't press the importance of this," Director Cooper says, echoing my thoughts. "I'll have your morning class canceled, and I'll warn Eliza that she might have to step in for a few lessons."
"All the material has already been shared with her."
Eliza is a lab tech who is currently completing her Ph.D. in my field. She's a great assistant, and I have no qualms leaving her in charge. In fact, it might actually be good for her to step in front of the class and take charge.
"Excellent. You'll be wanting one of the SUVs."
Director Cooper opens one of the drawers and produces a set of keys to one of the vehicles with UV-blocking windows, protection I definitely need due to my sun allergy. Thankfully, Alyce always keeps a set in there. She's like that, always prepared, always one step ahead of the rest of us.
"Let's go find Markov." T-Bone closes his hands around the keys and motions for me to lead the way.
And that's exactly what I'm doing. Leading the arm of the law straight to my mother.
6
Mila
When we get to the garage, I don't even argue with T-Bone when he takes the driver's seat of the armored car. Any other time, I would have taken the keys out of his hands, and I would have insisted I be the one to drive. But I can't. I'm too distracted. Driving right now would be very irresponsible.
My thoughts keep racing, never latching onto a memory long enough for me to find any sort of peace. It's silly, because I knew what I was doing on this mission.
But where we're going I won't find any solace.
What I will, no doubt, find are more lies.
The very few positive memories I have of my childhood will disappear, vanish in a cloud of grief. I feel it. I almost want to roll my window down and fly away, never to be seen again.
Bat and the Bone Page 3