Berg nodded. “Okay.”
“Excellent. Very good!” She turned and rushed after her sisters, her overstuffed backpack so heavy and Stevie so thin, it looked as if she should topple over. But she didn’t. Because none of the MacKilligan sisters were quite what they appeared.
Berg didn’t bother to look at his brother. What was the point? He didn’t need to see him to hear him clearly.
“I’m telling Britta what an idiot you are.”
chapter TWELVE
Dee-Ann came down the stairs of the large house and went into the kitchen where Malone was.
“Looks like they’re gone.”
Malone grinned. “You’re gonna love this.” She suddenly tipped the kitchen table onto its side. Holstered guns and knives were duct taped to the underside.
“That seems like . . . a lot.”
“Ya think?” Malone laughed. “These are your kind of girls, Smith. They’ve got weapons”—she raised her hands, forefingers up, and made a circle in the air—“all over this house. In cabinets, behind doors, under beds, next to beds . . . in beds. I’m trying to figure out where they got all this shit.”
“We need to find these girls.”
Malone lifted her nose, sniffed the air, then opened her mouth wide, pulled back her lips, and stuck out her tongue.
She’d done it before when they were tracking. She called it a “flehmen response,” but Dee-Ann just called it nasty. Because that’s what it was. Just nasty!
Malone closed her mouth and made a smacking sound. “There were bears here,” she announced.
“There are bears everywhere. It’s a bear neighborhood, genius.”
“I mean there were bears here. In this space. And one of them was hot for one of those girls.”
“How do know that?”
“Pheromones.” She made that tongue sucking against the roof of her mouth sound again. “I can taste it in the back of my throat.”
Dee-Ann held up her hand and told Malone, “You cats are just plain nasty.”
Malone walked across the room and stared out the window. “If he likes her, he’ll want to protect her.”
“None of those girls need nobody protecting them.”
“You know how guys are, though. Especially bears.” She looked at Dee-Ann over her shoulder. “And there are two places they’d probably think of taking them. But one of those places, they can’t risk yet. So that leaves the other.” She nodded. “Yeah, I think I know where they took the girls.”
Malone was so cocky, Dee-Ann couldn’t help but ask, “What, Malone? You fuck a bear on the regular and you think you know what all other bears will do?”
Malone thought a moment before replying, “Yes. Yes, I do. And do you know why, Air Bud? Because I am awesome.” She giggled. “God, I love me. Don’t you love me?”
“No.”
* * *
“Go,” Berg said to Charlie from the front seat of Mrs. Fitzbaer’s Hummer. “We’ll park the car and be right in. Don’t talk to anybody or go anywhere. Just stay in the lobby. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Charlie opened the back door and climbed out of the enormous vehicle. Of course, after seeing the “elderly” sow who owned this behemoth, she understood why the woman needed it. She had to be nearly seven feet tall. Charlie had made the assumption she was a lonely old maid, but nope. She was a widow whose polar bear husband had been nearly eight feet tall, and together they’d had six giant children who were scattered all over the world trying to help with global warming to assist the full-blood polar bears trapped on melting ice caps.
She was really starting to find this shifter life interesting. Living with a Pack that barely noticed her, was terrified by Max, and a little freaked-out by Stevie hadn’t really shown Charlie the entire shifter world that existed out there. All this was new to her.
They made their way into the Sport Center’s main lobby. Kids with basketballs or ice skates pushed past Charlie and her sisters, all rushing to their practices. There were sports stores of all kinds and restaurants on the first floor. The ice rink was also on this floor, but the basketball courts, gymnastic practice rooms, and some admin offices were up on floors two through eighteen.
There was also a state-of-the-art, high-end gym that probably cost a small fortune to join, and a bunch of sports physicians and surgeons who probably only worked on Olympic athletes and pro ballers.
“Wow,” Stevie gasped, her gaze raised to the high ceiling. “All this for sports.”
“Sports is big business,” Charlie noted. “And this is what big business buys.”
“All this money, but scientists still have to beg for funds in the search to end cancer.” She shook her head, lips pursed. “Disgusting.”
Now that Stevie was back on her meds, she was once-again rational, if a little nervous.
Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t so easily spooked. She didn’t have time, always too busy keeping her sisters safe or stopping them from doing something stupid.
A group of laughing girls walked by, roller skates hanging from the bag one of them held.
“Hey, look,” Max pointed out. “Derby girls.”
“You want to play derby?” Charlie asked, surprised. Max was not exactly a team player.
“Oh, God, no. But I do love watching them beat the shit out of each other.” She began to follow. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find out if there are any bouts coming up.”
“We’re supposed to wait for the guys,” Stevie reminded her.
“We’ll be gone two minutes. Come on!”
They followed the fast-moving women expertly cutting through the crowd until they disappeared into a stairwell guarded by two security guards.
“Okay, we’re done,” Charlie said, grabbing Max’s arm and holding her back.
“Why?”
“Whatever is going on back there, I don’t want to know.”
Max pulled her arm away. “Don’t be such a drag.”
“How are we supposed to get past security?” Stevie asked.
“Leave it to me,” Max said with way more confidence than either of her sisters felt for her.
She sauntered up to the two guards and smiled. “Hey.”
The two men looked at her with no real expression. The nose of one twitched and he suddenly opened the door, holding it for them.
Max walked in and Charlie ran after her. Stevie slipped in right behind.
“What was that?” Charlie demanded, catching her sister’s arm.
“Apparently I’m really good at being sultry.”
Charlie stopped her sister and pulled her around to face her. “But, honey . . . you’re not good at being sultry.”
“She’s right,” Stevie agreed. “Actually, your sultry is almost threatening.”
“Gee . . . thanks,” Max muttered. She shook her head. “Look, let’s just go explore a little. It’ll take forever for the guys to find a parking spot around here. Five minutes.”
“I’m concerned the stairs only go down,” Stevie pointed out. “Are we going to a morgue?”
“Why would there be a morgue in a sports center?” Charlie asked.
“Because Soylent Green is people?”
“I am so sorry I let you see that movie,” Charlie sighed.
“Come on, come on.” Max started down the stairs and they followed.
“Aren’t you a little concerned,” Charlie asked, “that there was security at the door?”
“Why would I be? They were shifters.”
“They were?”
Max stopped and faced her. “I thought you got your allergy meds.”
“I did. And Stevie introduced me to a new nasal spray sent from those German doctors. So far it’s really good.”
“And yet you couldn’t smell—”
“I don’t go around smelling people, Max. Sometimes they smell funky.”
“You don’t go around smelling. It’s just . . . you just . . .”
Stevie walked past them and headed t
oward the door on the next floor. “She doesn’t get it, Maxie. I don’t know why you go on so about it.”
“But we’re shifters!”
“Would you stop screaming that,” Charlie snapped. “We don’t know who’s around here.”
“Hey, guys?” Stevie called out. She now stood in front of the open door, staring out at something. “You may want to check this out.”
Charlie went down the stairs and stopped behind Stevie. She was taller than her sister, so she could look over her head. It was another lobby. Like the one on the first floor. There were restaurants, stores, and people dressed for the sport of their choice.
But there was a distinct difference between this lobby and the one on the floor above. It was the energy. And it took a moment for her to understand what this all reminded her of, but then it hit her. Like a lightning bolt.
A watering hole in Africa. One where all the local animals had to go to get a drink. Lions, gazelles, giraffes, wild dogs. Predator and prey all meeting in the same place because they had no choice. And although these were all predators, many of them had their cubs and pups with them. The way the mothers watched out for their offspring—keeping them close; gazes darting around, searching out any danger, any risk; ready to attack at a second’s notice—reminded Charlie of going to the mall with her mother.
“They’re all shifters,” Stevie said, fascinated, her mouth slightly open. “All of them.”
“I’ve heard about places like this,” Max explained. “Been invited to a few, but never went.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Seems weird. Being around a bunch of people where the only thing you have in common is that you can shift into an animal.”
“I get the appeal,” Charlie said. “Kind of like that time I went with Gramps to that family reunion. Being around people who connect with you on a very specific level can be nice. Seeing all those different shades of brown in one place was very comforting, and none of them were shifters because it was my great grandmother’s side of the family. But I still felt . . . connected.”
“I go to Chinatown,” Max stated flatly, “and I don’t feel connected.”
“Awww, sweetie.” Charlie put her arm around Max’s shoulders. “That’s because you’re you.”
“Excuse me,” a low voice said from behind them.
Charlie and Max separated and three very large men walked by. One of them smiled at Charlie. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi,” she replied, unable to stop a surprised chuckle.
Max rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God. Really?”
“You can’t let me have that? Cute guys notice me and you can’t let me enjoy the moment?”
“Cute guys notice you all the time.”
“No. Short guys notice me. And guys who like big tits. Neither ever look me in the eye or call me beautiful. He did.”
“He’s seven feet tall. You could give him a blow job without getting on your knees.”
“The point is,” Stevie cut in, “that you already have a tall guy who thinks you’re beautiful.” Then she smiled. Weirdly.
Charlie stared at her baby sister. “What are you talking about?”
“You know.” Stevie fluttered her eyes . . . which was, again, weird.
“Sweetie, you don’t do coquettish well, so stop that.”
“Come on.” Max moved around them and out the doorway. “Let’s check this out.”
“We have to meet Berg and Dag,” Charlie reminded her.
“Five minutes.”
“No. Let’s just get back upstairs and—”
“There’s a Starbucks.”
“Ooh.” Charlie stepped past the doorway. “Coffee.”
Max pushed Charlie toward the very large Starbucks. “Go get us coffee and something with honey.”
“Cinnamon for me,” Stevie corrected.
Realizing she’d never get her sisters out of here anytime soon, Charlie went into the Starbucks and got in line. Might as well get herself a cup of coffee to soothe her nerves before she went to track down Berg and Dag. She didn’t want them to worry.
As it was, she couldn’t believe how amazing the Dunns were being. Going out of their way—constantly—to help her and her sisters. How was she ever going to pay them back? How was she ever going to pay back Berg? She’d never known a guy like him. He was just so . . . nice! And she really liked that. She liked how nice and responsible he was. Only her grandfather had ever been that responsible, but he was also grumpy. Sometimes very grumpy.
Not Berg, though. He was just a really nice guy. Who also happened to be really hot.
Charlie rubbed her forehead. She had to stop thinking about Berg that way. He deserved better than MacKilligan crazy in his life. He was too nice for her. What was she going to do with a nice guy but ruin his life?
The line grew even as she moved forward and it didn’t take her long to realize that the woman standing behind her was sniffing her.
Not enjoying that one bit, Charlie looked over her shoulder and asked, “Can I help you with something?”
The woman was black, long and lean, in a designer dress that looked perfect on her. She was beautiful but Charlie found her bright gold eyes disconcerting. Especially the way they were locked on her. And the way her nostrils flared as she leaned in to take another sniff did nothing but make Charlie want to slap the holy hell out of her.
“You’re bleeding,” the woman finally said.
“I’ve got my period,” she lied, hoping that would end the conversation. It didn’t.
“I’d believe that if I didn’t smell the gunpowder. When were you shot?”
Charlie glanced around but no one seemed to be paying much attention to their conversation.
“Don’t worry about it,” she insisted. “I got it handled.”
“Doubt it.” The woman suddenly grabbed her upper arm, and it took everything Charlie had in her not to pull her gun and shoot the female directly in the head. “Come on.”
“Look, lady—”
“I’m a doctor. We’ll get it cleaned out and wrapped up in a few minutes and you won’t get the fever.”
“I don’t get the fever.” Charlie knew about the fever. She’d been hearing about it ever since she’d moved in with the Pack. The fever that allowed shifters to heal themselves in about twenty-four hours. A fever that Charlie and her sisters didn’t get. Instead, they healed in their own . . . unique, individual ways. Ways she was not in the mood to discuss with this beautiful, lean woman who was making her insecure about her own looks.
“Sure you don’t.” The woman pulled and, gritting her teeth, Charlie let the stranger take her out of line. What was wrong with her? If this had happened among full-humans, Charlie would have just handled it. Like she handled everything else. Quickly. Brutally. And with no remorse. But she wasn’t doing that here. Maybe because a fellow shifter wouldn’t be so easily put off. She couldn’t scare this woman with a silent stare or a low-volume growl. And it wasn’t until this moment that Charlie realized how frustrating that was.
As the woman led her through the crowded lobby toward a set of elevators, Charlie glanced back in the hopes of spotting her sisters, but nope. They’d wandered off as she’d known they would. Like two exploring bear cubs wandering away from the mama bear. She expected no different from Max, but she often forgot Stevie’s problems with crowds . . . in that she had no problems with crowds. Her panic disorder reared up when she felt trapped and alone. But Stevie didn’t feel alone in crowds. In her mind, she could call for help and someone would come running to her aid. That’s what allowed her to play in front of vast crowds, to lead entire orchestras, to wander around Paris in the springtime while ignoring the beauty and the danger of the city all around her.
Once, Charlie and her sisters had been separated at a peace rally in England that turned violent. When the three sisters met again, Max had a bruised face and swollen knuckles. Charlie had a bruised throat and broken ribs. And Stevie was singing “Give peace a ch
ance” with a bunch of hippies. Untouched. Unbruised. Happy as hell.
But one bear in the yard and Stevie was up a tree, screaming, and unable to breathe. Weird.
They stepped into the elevator and went down a few floors. The woman still had a grip on Charlie’s arm while she held her phone in her free hand and read emails.
“Look,” Charlie tried, “I appreciate—”
“Nope.”
“Nope what?”
“Just nope,” the woman said, not even looking up from her phone. “Whatever bullshit you’re about to tell me. Nope.”
The doors opened and they were moving again. Only this time, as they walked, people greeted the woman.
“Hey, doc.”
“Lookin’ good, doc.”
“Marry me!”
“I’ll be by around two, doc. My leg is acting up again.”
The woman nodded and smiled as shifters of varying sizes greeted her, but she never stopped and she never eased her hold on Charlie’s arm.
Well . . . at least she was a doctor. Of some kind.
The woman dragged Charlie into a very active medical facility, filled to the brim with shifters of varying sizes.
“Hey, doc,” the receptionist said. “Your one o’clock is here.”
“Ask them to wait, would you, Sal? I’ve got an emergency.”
“Yeah, but—”
The doctor didn’t wait for the receptionist to finish. She simply took Charlie into a room and over to an exam table.
She briefly left and returned a minute or two later wearing a lab coat with a stethoscope in the pocket and a blank chart. A nurse followed in behind her.
“Okay, hon,” the doc said, opening up the chart and beginning to fill it out. “Let’s get that stuff off and see what we’re dealing with.”
“I really can’t afford health care”—at least not health care here—“so I can just—”
“Move from that spot, and I’ll have Nurse Konami put you in a headlock that will make your eyes bleed.”
Charlie glanced over at the nurse. She wasn’t a particularly tall or brawny woman. Nothing too threatening.
“Uh-uh,” the doctor said, still not looking at her. “Nurse Konami may be full-human, but she is married to an Asian black bear and she deals with football and hockey players all day, every day. Men and women two to three times your size are terrified of her and for good reason. So if I were you, I’d take off your clothes, put on a gown, and shut up.”