"No one is replacing anyone, and no one is going to be replaced, Nadia," Martin dismissed. "I invited Kitty to visit because I want to get to know her like I know you and your brother. Don't be such an idiot."
While Nadalie shrieked in outrage, Peter sneered from the doorway. "Oh, I'm sure being called an idiot will make her feel lots better, Dad."
Hands still stuffed into the pockets of what even Kitty could see were jeans worth more than any ten items of her own wardrobe, the young man strolled into the room as if he were doing a bad Marlon Brando impression. When Peter reached his mother's side, he stopped and gave Kitty an insulting head-to-toe inspection.
Not that she really cared what he thought of her, but she found it interesting that all of these people were going so far out of their way to let her know exactly how much contempt they held her in. Of course, considering the impression they were making on her, it did level the playing field a little. No matter how even things were, though, Kitty didn't intend to give the Lowes any advantage. She returned her half brother's scrutiny in equal measure.
Like the rest of the family, Peter was tall, but his broad shoulders and large hands and feet suggested that if he weren't still so youthfully skinny, he'd have a much larger frame than either of his female relatives. His hair, short and stylish, was darker than theirs, too, almost a toffee color that Kitty might have admired if she'd seen it on a more pleasant person. He had his father's green eyes, but Peter's condescending manners were all Drusilla. Only less polite.
"Personally, I don't see why Nad's so worried," he continued, dismissing Kitty and turning back to his father. "If the girl's any smarter than the average pile of dog shit, she'll find out fast what an asshole her natural father is. Then we'll never have to see her again. Everyone wins."
"You little son of a bitch!" Martin snarled, and he leaned forward as if he meant to rise.
Frowning, Kitty stepped closer to the bed and laid a hand on her father's arm. "Martin," she murmured, "calm down. You've been ill. If you get all worked up, your nurse is going to come in here and throw us out for wreaking havoc on your blood pressure."
"Don't bother playing the devoted daughter," Nadalie hissed. "We all know what you're really here for, and I'll tell you right now we're not going to stand for it."
Kitty thought for a second about getting angry, but honestly, the speeches these people were coming up with sounded so ridiculous, she felt more like laughing. She turned to Max and quirked an eyebrow. "She knows why I'm here. Would you mind refreshing my memory about that? Because I can tell you, right now, I'll be darned if I can think of it."
Max smiled down at her. The gesture looked amused, conspiratorial, and almost intimate, but already Kitty could read his expressions well enough to know he was serious pissed off at Martin's family. For the moment, though, Max seemed inclined to play along with her imperturbable act.
He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, looking thoughtful. "I believe you may have mentioned something earlier. About… conquering and pillaging?"
Kitty laughed, deliberately making the sound low and wicked. "No, silly. That's later tonight. When you take me dancing. I came to visit Martin for an entirely different reason."
She watched Max's eyes flare at her provocative suggestion, and cursed herself for wanting to use him against the others. Especially when he inched closer to her and slid his hand from her shoulder to wrap his arm around her waist.
"Ah, yes. I remember now," he purred. "You let me bring you here because—"
"Because I wanted her here," Martin snapped, his glare taking in every living thing in the room. Not even the potted plants near the window seemed to be exempt. "I'm not quite sure when it happened that the members of my pride forgot I'm their Felix as well as their relative, but they're all very much mistaken about that. No matter how much you all might be hoping to hear something different one day soon, I'm not dead yet."
Kitty saw Drusilla looking uncomfortable and frowned. She glanced up at Max, but his expression had hardened into the stony mask he'd been wearing the first time she'd seen him. The only person with a smile on his face, or at least a smirk, was Peter.
"Not yet, old man," the teenager said, sarcasm dripping, "but you can't blame us for continuing to check. We all live in hope, after all."
"That's a truly rotten thing to say," Kitty bristled, glaring at her half brother. "Especially considering your father's had a health scare so recently. You should be glad to see he's recovering. Wishing for someone's death—your own fathers especially!—is not something to joke about."
Peter turned his cruelly amused gaze on her and lifted a supercilious eyebrow. "Who's joking, Scarlett? I was being perfectly serious."
Max's arm around her waist tightened, and Kitty felt a sense of uneasiness creep over her. She looked from her father to Max and back again, then frowned at Peter.
"What's the matter, Sis?" the young man drawled. "Didn't Father dearest tell you he's dying?"
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
MAX SAW KITTY'S FACE GO WHITE AND SWORE. GOD damn Peter and his petty bullshit! He must have guessed Martin hadn't had time to explain things, and he'd leapt at the opportunity to make trouble, just like always. Of course, Max found himself struggling not to curse Martin out as well. What had he spent nearly an hour talking to his daughter about that had been more important than informing her of the very real danger of his being dead before the month was out?
Not that it mattered now. The damage had been done.
"God damn it, Peter!" Martin roared, struggling to push himself up off his pillows and panting at the effort it cost him. "I could kick your sorry ass for that! How dare you—"
"Oh, go ahead, Dad," Peter taunted. "Watching you try would give me the biggest laugh I've had in a long time. You're so far gone already, someone will have to play the grim reaper for you, because I doubt you even have the strength to kick the bucket, let alone my ass."
"Shut up, Peter," Max growled, his voice cutting through Martin's bellowed response. He took a step forward, instinctively tensing his muscles to appear even larger and more powerful than normal. If he'd been in lion form, his tail would have been twitching. Everyone but Peter seemed to get the message. They took a collective step back. "Even dead, your father would be more than a match for you, cub, so don't let me hear you speaking to him again with that kind of disrespect. Do you understand me?"
"I don't need anyone fighting my battles for me yet, Max, not even you," Martin said. His voice sounded harsher this time, weaker, as if even the effort it took to yell at his son had drained the older man of energy. "The day I'm no match for a scrawny weakling like my son is the day you can take me out and bury me."
Peter smirked. "I have a shovel in my car. I'll go out and grab it right now."
"You little shit," his father growled, and reached to throw back his blankets. From the corner of his eye, Max saw that it was Kitty who reached out to stop him while his ex-wife and daughter just watched for the first sign of blood, like Romans at the Colosseum.
"Martin, no, stay in bed," Kitty urged, placing her hand against his chest and using the other to tuck his covers back into place. "You shouldn't be getting up. Aside from everything else, you wouldn't get very far. You're still connected to your oxygen and your IV."
"Pull them out. I don't need them," Martin panted. "I'm going to teach that boy a lesson. If it kills me, at least I know I'll die satisfied."
"Martin, no!"
Finally, Drusilla stepped forward, but not to assist Kitty in calming her ex-husband down. "Don't be ridiculous, Martin. You're in no state to indulge in a wrestling match with Peter. And what could possess you to want to? He's your son. You can't possibly think to blame him for it if some… interloper happens to get herself into a snit."
Max watched as Kitty turned from her father to glare at Drusilla through narrowed eyes.
"A snit?" Kitty repeated quietly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not
in a snit, lady; I am righteously pissed. I was raised to respect my elders, but if you say one more thing to upset Martin, I'll show you exactly how far beyond 'snit' I've really gone."
Drusilla drew in an affronted gasp, but she never managed to let it out. The monitor recording the activity of Martin's heart began to issue an insistent beeping sound and the door to his private sitting room opened to admit a forty-something-year-old woman in smiley face-decorated white scrubs with sensible crepe-soled shoes and a frown to scare small children.
"Just what in heaven's name is going on in here?" she demanded. "What have you all done to Mr. Lowe?" With dark, capable hands she shooed everyone impatiently away from the bed, and looked at the beeping monitor. "This is no good. Mr. Lowe, your blood pressure has gone through the roof and your sinus rhythm is tachycardia I can't allow this type of thing in my patients." The nurse turned to glare at the rest of the room. "All of you are going to have to leave. Now."
Peter shrugged and was out the door before the woman finished talking. He didn't even bother to acknowledge his father as he left.
Nadalie and Drusilla protested loudly, but Nurse Mencina—according to her name tag—was unmoved. "No, out. Mr. Lowe is unwell. If you all need to talk to him, you can come back tomorrow and you can behave yourselves them. No more visitors today."
The women stalked outside after making a great show of promising Martin that they would return tomorrow when he was feeling better and "ready to talk sensibly." Martin scowled them all the way out of the room.
Mouth compressed into a thin line, the nurse turned her attention on Max and Kitty. "You, too," she ordered. "Out. You can come back tomorrow, if you can promise to behave like civilized people."
Max saw Kitty sizing up the nurse and prepared himself to intervene, but he didn't need to. Kitty looked from Nurse Mencina to Martin's pale, drawn face, and the combat-ready tension drained from her body.
"Okay. We'll come back tomorrow," she said, but instead of turning to go, she smoothed Martin's blankets back into place and adjusted his pillows more comfortably behind him. Then she took his hand and squeezed gently. "Let Ms. Mencina take care of you. I'm going to ask her the next time I see her if you gave her any trouble, you hear?"
Martin only nodded and closed his eyes, pressing his cannula closer with his free hand. The other, Max saw, tightened briefly around his daughter's before she stepped away from the bed.
Reaching out, Max took Kitty's hand in his own and brushed the hair back from Martin's forehead. "Get some sleep, pa," he murmured, using the affectionate Leo term for father. "I'll bring her back tomorrow."
Without opening his eyes, Martin nodded. With a polite nod of his own to the nurse, Max turned away and tugged Kitty out of the suite and out into the hall. Then he cursed.
Drusilla and Nadalie had stationed themselves beside the front door like guard dogs. Beside him, he felt Kitty tense, and he cursed again silently. He thought about steering her to the left, down another hallway, and back toward the rear of the house where they could exit unseen, but to be honest, the women would probably just follow. Still, he figured Kitty had had enough for one day. He opened his mouth to make the suggestion, but she beat him to the punch.
"Well, I'll say one thing for you, Max Stuart," she murmured, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin the way he'd noticed she always did right before she leapt into one fray or another. "You don't let a girl get bored around here, do you?" Turning her head, she glanced up at him with a small smile. "Shall we let them hold the door for us as we leave?"
Her eyes, steady on his, were bright green with determination and shadowed with fatigue. She might look like she could take on an army of obnoxious relatives with ease, but her eyes and the tension he could feel in her body told him she held herself together with Scotch tape and willpower.
"There's no reason you have to, kitten," he told her, squeezing her hand and watching her closely. "They've already said more than enough for anyone to handle in one day. We can go out the back and let them spit their bitterness on someone else for a while."
"Oh no." She shook her head, mouth quirking. "I've never walked away from a fight in my life. Just ask Billy Buckner."
"Who?"
But Kitty was already striding forward. Since Max refused to let go of her hand, he had no choice but to follow.
She didn't even hesitate as she moved calmly and unhurriedly toward the front door. She nodded to Drusilla and Nadalie in turn as she reached for the handle. "Ladies," she said as her hand twisted.
"My daughter and I would like a few words with you, Miss…"
"Sugarman," Kitty supplied evenly. "Kitty Sugarman."
Drusilla ignored the subtle emphasis on her first name, but Max smiled.
"Miss Sugarman," the elder woman acknowledged. "I don't see any reason for us to dissemble with each other, not now that we're away from any chance of upsetting Martin. I want to make the position of this family very clear—you are not welcome here. I don't know what you've told my husband to convince him to invite you here, but you're not wanted. You should leave immediately."
Kitty's expression remained remarkably even, and if her hand tightened a bit in his, Max was the only one to notice. "That was remarkably clear," she said, her green eyes steady on Drusilla's. "Congratulations. You have no need to wonder if I understand how you feel. Unfortunately, how you feel doesn't matter to me."
Outrage made itself plain on Drusilla's face, but Kitty didn't flinch.
"The fact is that it doesn't matter if you and your children and the entire state of Nevada don't want me here," she continued, steel in every word. "Martin is the one who invited me here, and he's the one I came to see. As far as I'm concerned, that means he's the only one with the right to tell me to leave."
"You're not one of us," Nadalie hissed. She shouldered her mother aside and got right up in Kitty's face, but she never blinked. "You don't belong here, and you have no idea how things work in our world. We can make you leave, you know. Of course, if it comes to that, you'll probably be leaving in the back of the coroner's van."
That was it. The last straw. Rumbling a very real warning, Max used his grip on Kitty to tug her back and stepped between her and the other woman. He could feel Kitty tugging on his hand, trying to free herself, but he held firm.
"You need to back off, Nadia," he growled, feeling energy crawling along his skin, urging him to shift, to assume the form in which no female of the pride would ever think to disobey him. It took a concerted effort of will to hang on to his control. "In case you've forgotten how things work around here, your father is still Felix of this pride, and that means he has the right to invite anyone he wants into his territory. If you don't like it… well, that's sad for you, now isn't it?"
Nadia backed up a couple of steps, but she didn't lower her eyes. She continued to glare at him defiantly, her lip curling in anger. "My father isn't strong enough to rule this pride anymore, and you know it. Even I could challenge him now and win. He's lost the respect of the pride. He's a burden on us now."
Max snarled and forced her back another step. "While your father lives, he rules. And if that means I have to kill anyone who tries to change that, I will." His voice was flat, his expression murderous. "Don't forget I'm baas here, Nadia. If you want to get to your father, you have to go through me. And I'm more than strong enough to survive your challenge."
The girl opened her stupid mouth one more time, but her mother saved her. Grabbing her daughter by the arm, Drusilla tugged her backward and reached for the door handle, keeping a wary eye on Max.
"Nadia, it's time we left," she ordered, pulling open the door and shoving her daughter through it. "Now is obviously not the time to argue about this. We've made our position clear. What the girl chooses to do now is her own business. Let her stay for a few days. When your father dies, we'll see what the rest of the pride has to say about her presence. Come along."
Max watched them go, fighting back the urge to follow and smack
their stubborn ideas out of their heads. If they thought he wouldn't take the exact same position when he became Felix, they were dumber than he'd imagined. The only thing that stopped him was the feel of Kitty's hand still gripped in his. Then she squeezed and he turned to look down at her.
"Well, I had fun," she said, her expression as wry as her voice. "How about you?"
THE ATMOSPHERE OUTSIDE OF MARTIN'S HOUSE FELT so much lighter than inside that Kitty would almost have sworn that gravity disappeared altogether. She stopped in the drive to savor the fresh, insult-free air and turned her face up to the sun. Damn the freckles. Being outside almost made her feel clean again.
Max stepped up behind her and gave her a one-armed hug. "I feel like I should apologize for them, but I doubt it would make a difference," he admitted. "They'll probably be just as unpleasant to you the next time they meet you."
Kitty just shook her head. "The part I'm most confused about is what on earth could possibly have made Martin marry that woman in the first place? After Misty, I knew he didn't have the greatest taste in women, but Drusilla takes the cake."
When Max hesitated, Kitty cast him a curious glance.
"It was a… political alliance," he said after a moment. "In the animal world, male lions take over a pride by killing or driving off the adult males and then killing all the male cubs, which forces the females back into heat so that the new males can breed their own cubs. Leos aren't quite so uncivilized, but tradition has shown us that taking a close relative of the former Felix to mate can make for a smoother transition of power."
Walk on the Wild Side Page 12