“You can give him a pill for that,” Shay suggested.
Finn slammed the back of his hand against his brother’s shoulder, but Mads ignored the violence and instead said, “See? I can give him a pill for that.”
“You’re making him a pet.”
“No more than people who neuter stray cats who hang out on their property. I’m simply helping him stay healthy in an unhealthy world. And he’s keeping the racoons out of my yard.” She snarled a little. “I hate racoons.”
“Why?”
“I got in a fistfight with one once. And then it turned into a battle with magical spears that took place in front of Odin himself . . .”
Finn shook his head. “Wait . . . what?”
“The thing is . . . I’d also been bitten by my first poisonous snake that same day, so I could have been hallucinating. I’ve really never been sure . . .” She shrugged. “Still hate racoons, though.”
The back door swung open again and Keane walked out in his shifted form with a massive lion gripped in his maw. He dragged the beast into the middle of Mads’s yard and spit him out on the grass, then he tried to get the long hairs of the lion’s mane off his tongue and out of his mouth.
“Is he just going to leave him there?” she asked Finn.
“Probably. But he’s not dead. Eventually, he’ll get up and wander away.”
Mads smiled up at the cat. “We’re in the playoffs tonight. You guys coming?”
“We have team practice.”
“Well, if you get out early enough, you should come. It’ll be a great game. We’re playing against the Detroit Devourers. They’re an excellent team.”
“Yeah.” Finn shrugged. “Sure.”
“Wait.” Mads frowned. “Do I hear tone?”
“I thought I heard tone,” Shay said, which got him a brutal glare from his brother.
Mads narrowed her eyes on Finn. “You don’t think women can play sports, do you?”
“That was definitely not what I was saying.”
“Then what were you saying with that tone?”
He shrugged again. “It’s basketball. It’s not actually a sport. Not like a real sport. Like football or hockey or even baseball. And I hate baseball. But I don’t doubt for a second that women can play sports. I have women on my team. They’re great players. And very mean. My coach is a woman. Big Julie.”
Finn patted her shoulder. “So I don’t doubt you. Just the sport you chose.”
“I see,” Mads said. “Good to know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for practice.” Mads marched past Finn, pointing at the lion carcass on her lawn. “And do not leave that cat in my yard, or I’m going to let the coyote eat it!”
* * *
Finn frowned. “Is that supposed to make us get rid of the cat or dismember it for easy digestion? Ow!” he barked when Shay punched his chest. “What the fuck was that for?”
“What is wrong with you, you idiot?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“She asks you to come to her game and you tell her you don’t think basketball is a sport?”
“None of us think basketball is a sport. We all hate it. Right, Keane?”
Licking grass to get lion hair off his tiger tongue, their eldest brother still managed to shake his head.
“See? Keane doesn’t think it’s a sport either.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
“She likes you. That’s why she invited you.”
“What?” Finn looked at the back door Mads had stormed through to enter the house. “She does? How do you know that?”
“That is not a woman comfortable with other people. From what I can tell she has a total of four friends, all of which are currently putting lion-provided conditioner on their singed hair. Everyone else she’s just polite to. But she’s been hanging out with you. That means she likes you . . . even though you’re an idiot.”
Keane now stood next to them as human. He was naked, with a small amount of blood splattered across his face, bite marks on his neck, and claw marks across his chest and legs.
“I hate to say it, but Shay’s right.”
“You think she likes me, too?”
“No, that you’re an idiot.”
“I hate both of you.”
“But she does seem to like you. I don’t know if that means she wants to—” Keane stopped to spit hairs out of his mouth and drag a few out with his fingers. “So much fucking hair with these assholes!” he complained.
“You don’t know if that means she wants to what?” Finn pushed.
“I don’t know if that means she wants to fuck you. But she does seem to like you. Then again, you did just insult what she considers her life’s work.”
“It wasn’t that bad—”
“I went out with a girl once who, in the middle of dinner, told me three things: that she loved sucking cock, couldn’t wait to suck mine, and that football was stupid. I paid the bill and left her cute, cock-sucking ass sitting there in the restaurant all alone. Why?” He jabbed his big forefinger in Finn’s face. “Because you don’t insult football.”
“You’re lucky Mads didn’t have a drink in her hand. She would have totally thrown it in your face,” Shay insisted.
“And you would have deserved it.”
Realizing his brothers—for once—might be right, Finn thought about going into the house to apologize to Mads but he was distracted when the coyote skulked out from under the house and ran up to the lion, grabbing its back leg and tugging at it, attempting to drag it away.
“Okay,” Keane admitted. “Even I think that’s adorable.”
Snarling and tugging, the coyote kept trying, even as the lion finally opened its eyes and looked around, eventually spotting the coyote attached to its leg. It shifted back to human and the Shaw brother glared at the Malones as the coyote continued trying to drag him off.
“Seriously?” Shaw demanded. “Are you not done humiliating me? Even after I brought hair products for all your badger girlfriends?”
“They’re not our girlfriends,” Keane muttered.
“You’re just lucky my girlfriend’s not here,” the lion threatened, standing up while trying to shake the coyote off his leg at the same time.
Finn snorted. “Isn’t she just a She-wolf?”
Keane glanced down at the coyote still holding tight to Shaw’s leg. “So a slightly bigger version of that?”
Shaw growled and started to limp toward the back door, but stopped to snarl at Keane, “And if there’s even one bald spot on my scalp—”
“Blame your genes?”
The coyote wisely jumped up into Shay’s arms as Finn and Shay stepped out of the way of the once-again battling cats.
chapter FOURTEEN
When Charlie MacKilligan came out onto the practice field that their pro team used, Finn immediately cringed.
“We didn’t have anything that actually fit her?” he asked Keane.
Keane turned away from the tight end he’d crushed beneath his bulk a few minutes before, and looked at the female he’d invited to their tryouts.
He grimaced and admitted, “The only things that fit her were the shoulder pads and jerseys for She-wolves. But pants . . . everything was either too long or too wide or both. She’s got legs like toothpicks.”
“Oy.”
Carrying her ever-present tablet, Big Julie made her way over to Finn and Keane. “Who is that tiny woman?” she asked.
“Charlie MacKilligan,” Keane replied. “I already told Coach about her.”
“That’s the female you said you wanted me to see? Why are you so mean, Keane Malone?”
“I’m not being mean. She has potential.”
“To get crushed by our entire offensive line?”
“You didn’t see her take on a bunch of Chinese tig—owww! Dammit, Finn! What was that for?”
“For someone who never says anything, you sure have a big fucking mouth!”
Julie studied the two brothers. “You guys were up to something again last night, weren’t you? You’re all covered in bruises. I swear, I have to keep all of you in dorms!”
Rubbing his knee and glaring at Finn, Keane said, “Just let us show you what she can do.”
“Fine.”
“Hey, Charlie,” Keane called out. “Line up against those two, would you—”
“Two?”
“Quiet,” he barked at Julie before motioning to two of their black bear defensive linemen. “And hold ’em back, okay?”
Charlie looked at the bears, then asked, “Am I supposed to call out numbers or something?”
Julie quickly turned away so her back was to Charlie and whispered to Keane, “So she doesn’t know anything about football? At all?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You do know we’re a pro team, right? People usually come to us with at least a basic understanding of the fucking sport!”
“I know it’s hard for you, but could you at least attempt to trust me?”
“Fine!”
“Okay, guys!” Keane called out. “Go!”
The two bears looked at each other, and then one called out to Keane, “Are you sure? Seems kind of mean.”
“Told you,” Julie muttered.
“It’s just a drill. No need to crush anybody.”
The two linemen got into position and Charlie mimicked them. Again, Finn cringed. She looked so tiny in comparison. Maybe in height the bears weren’t dramatically bigger, but in width . . . it was as if she was facing off against those massive redwoods you could drive a car through.
Of course, Finn also couldn’t get last night out of his head so he wasn’t exactly panicked either.
Julie raised her arm and motioned with her hand. One of the bears called out, “Ready! Set! Hut!”
They charged forward, directly at Charlie, and she . . . stopped them. Flat palms against big, wide chests. She just stood there, holding each bear in place, while the bears sort of kept on running for a few more seconds before they realized that they weren’t going anywhere.
When they did catch on and stopped moving, Charlie shoved them back. The entire team, along with the hopeful draftees, watched the two bears fly across the field and through the goalposts.
Not even winded, Charlie looked at Keane, and asked, “Is that what you wanted me to do?”
“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “Pretty much.”
* * *
Mads glared at her teammates, disgusted. “I can’t believe you went through practice with those things on.”
“What did you want us to do? It was in the directions.” Streep sat by her locker, with a bath towel wrapped around her naked body, one leg crossed over the other, sparkly pink flip-flops on, and an extremely unattractive shower cap on her head. A cap that had been on her head since she’d combed that “deep conditioning masque” through her hair. Mads had actually felt bad for the lion who’d brought all those hair products over to her house for her teammates. The masque alone cost over a hundred bucks a tub. And he’d slapped tape on each bottle or tube or tub and put his own directions on them for Mads’s teammates. And then he’d been beaten up by a tiger at least twice his size for all his trouble.
And harassed by a full-blood coyote that attempted to drag him under the house as some sort of meal-for-later.
That seemed a little unfair despite Mads’s instinctive dislike of lions. They were the species that harassed both the animals within her. Hyena and honey badger. Although hyenas were the true enemies of lions, the badger in her did get pushed around a little should she walk by a bored pride. Of course one of the reasons the Galendotter Clan had moved to Wisconsin was that Detroit had a lot of lions that loved to slap hyenas around. The only one they didn’t fuck with was Solveig. Everyone in the neighborhood knew not to start shit with her. Whether they were full-humans, shifters, or cops . . . they all knew. But only Solveig got that kind of respect. And when Mads asked her why she got respect when no one else in the Clan did, she explained it the same way every time.
“I’m Viking.”
Mads didn’t know why being Viking would matter in modern-day Detroit, but the logic seemed to work for Solveig, if not Mads. What kept Mads safe in the old neighborhood was her game. She could go to any playground court and go up against boys older than her and not, as they put it, “shit her pants.” She didn’t say much. She didn’t start shit. She didn’t act better than anyone else. She didn’t get in anyone’s face unless she didn’t agree with a call. Otherwise, Mads was just there to play ball, and she played it well. Her great-grandmother didn’t like her hanging out in the neighborhood by herself, but the locals had nothing but good things to say about “that kid” and her “skills” before they purchased some milk and diapers, keeping Solveig’s store open during tough times. So Solveig’s complaints eventually faded away.
But even better than playing on those courts back in the day was watching the older players. It was learning some of those amazing moves that made Mads one of the best players in the league, and she knew it.
That’s why she took basketball so seriously. It meant the world to her. It kept her sane. It got her away from the people who hated her most—her family—and it had just bought her a house in Queens. Most importantly, it kept her and her teammates out of real trouble. Imagine if they didn’t have a playoff game to go to right now. Who knew what kind of trouble the five of them could get into? It was too horrifying even to think about!
Which was why it appalled her that four of them had gone to their last-minute practice on Staten Island with shower caps on their heads in front of their other teammates like it was normal behavior. It was not normal behavior. It was embarrassing!
Mads watched Streep plucking her eyebrows in a round mirror, Nelle painting her toenails to match the team colors despite no one being able to see them through her sneakers, Tock filing her claws, and Max asleep on one of the long wood benches. Because she, like Mads, could sleep through anything when she wanted to. She was even snoring.
“Could you guys look any more prissy at the moment?” Mads finally accused.
“We could, actually,” Nelle said. “If prissy means adorable and gorgeous.”
“It doesn’t mean that.”
“Did your little tiger make you feel insecure?” Streep asked, smirking.
“He’s not my little tiger and no.”
“You sure? I heard that he suggested women couldn’t play sports.”
“That’s not what he suggested at all.”
“Then what did he say?”
“He said that basketball is not a sport.”
Everyone in the locker room froze, and Mads could feel all eyes on her.
Tock lowered the metal file and asked, “And you didn’t rip his balls off?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why would you do that? Because there was that drunk kid at our senior week bonfire who suggested basketball was stupid and not really a sport, and you threw him in the bonfire.”
“I didn’t throw him in the bonfire. He tripped and fell.”
“After you heaved him in. Luckily, everyone was so drunk, I don’t think they remembered it was you. And what about the cheerleader in tenth grade who suggested only lesbians play basketball? You put her in a headlock and held her upside down, shaking her until she sobbed and begged you to stop.”
“I didn’t like how she talked about the gay community.”
Streep snorted. “My girlfriend will really appreciate your thoughts and prayers during our difficult time.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“And that guidance counselor who suggested you get a real job after high school rather than planning on playing basketball professionally?”
“She was wrong!”
“She was full-human! She had no idea about pro shifter sports teams,” Tock went on. “You actually lodged a complaint against her. For discrimination!”
�
��It was discrimination. Against basketball! Because this is a real job!”
“You almost got her fired from her real job until they understood what you were actually complaining about.”
“She would have deserved it!”
“And despite all that, you didn’t do anything to some tiger who said basketball isn’t a real sport?”
“He plays pro football. I assume he has CTE from all that head banging, which would explain such an irrational statement.”
Streep smiled. But the smile annoyed Mads because it was all warm and loving. “You like him,” she accused.
“I don’t like anybody.”
“Is that why we’re not friends?” Streep asked, yet again. “Just teammates?”
“Oh, my God!” Tock exploded. “You really need to let that go!” With that out of her system, she grinned at Mads, and said, “And you totally like him.”
* * *
Keane watched Max’s boyfriend reach over his shoulder, snatch the ball thrown by the quarterback out of the air and keep running. A defense tackle came at him, arms outstretched to bring him down, but the jaguar slipped past him like lightning, then sped past a lion linebacker into the end zone.
It wasn’t easy to impress Keane, but he was almost impressed. The house cat moved with some grace and unbelievable speed considering he wasn’t a cheetah and hadn’t played football in quite a few years. But unlike the cheetahs, Max’s boyfriend could take a solid hit when he couldn’t make it past the defensive line, and he wasn’t afraid to tackle guys bigger than him if he was trying to get the ball away from them.
More important, their new quarterback seemed to already have a rapport with . . . what was his name again? He couldn’t keep calling the cat Max’s boyfriend. Eventually that was going to annoy him. Especially when Keane kept yelling it across the field. “Hey! Max’s boyfriend! Come here!”
Julie gasped beside him and Keane turned to see that a group of bears and lions had tackled Charlie during a drill.
“What the fuck?” he demanded of his coach.
“I didn’t tell them to do that!” Julie started over to the males and females who’d gotten tired of being tossed around by a hybrid badger who couldn’t even shift. They must have quietly decided to gang up on MacKilligan. But Keane realized what a bad idea that turned out to be when a fellow She-lion flew past Julie’s head and Keane yanked her out of the way of a grizzly tumbling past like a fast-moving boulder rolling down a hill.
Breaking Badger Page 23