Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles #3) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,117
men exploded into a Spanish-language argument that left her in the dark. She had taken Spanish when she was in high school but to be honest, even if she’d lived in Spain for the last twenty years, she wasn’t sure she’d understand a word these two were saying. Not with the yelling and the speed at which they were yelling those words.
She’d known this might happen. After seeing that information they’d gotten from the cat database. After one look at that thing, she knew that Zé’s grandfather had known long before Zé was out of his mother’s womb that the kid would be a shifter. How did she know? Because one of the pages was a document that entrusted Zé’s care to the Katzenhaus Trust if anything was to happen to his mother, grandmother, or his grandmother’s mate, Xavier.
Not only that, but Xavier had signed it. His signature was there on the copy of the document that had been printed out. Right after the signatures of his wife and daughter.
So, of course, he’d known. The question now, of course, was why he’d kept it all secret from his grandson. Why hadn’t Xavier helped him as he’d developed into an adult? Especially during puberty when Zé was probably confused and scared, wondering what the fuck was going on with his body. Instead, he’d forced his grandson to bury that part of himself, to completely ignore his shifter side. Why?
Those were the questions that probably needed to be answered the most, but screaming at each other wouldn’t get them there.
Still, her plaintive, “Hey, come on. Can’t we discuss this rationally?” was just not doing the trick. So she did what she had to do and it wasn’t pretty.
* * *
Max unleashed a nasty, vicious hiss, opening her mouth to reveal all those horrifying fangs as a copious amount of spit flew from the back of her throat and sprayed both men.
Then, with those fangs still hanging out for the world to see, she said, “Both of you stop or I will unleash my anal glands. And I can promise you that the funk alone will kill both of you. The only species not bothered by that smell are the canines. Neither of you are canines. So let’s stop the fucking bullshit!” she roared before immediately calming down and softly adding, “Okay?”
Wiping spit off the side of his face, his grandfather accused, “You’re dating honey badgers now?”
That’s when all the fight left Zé. It just left.
Not only did his grandfather know what Zé was—and had known for Zé’s entire life—but he knew that world. If he knew honey badgers, the man knew the shifter world. Shen had told him when they were hanging out in that tree at the MacKilligan house that the honey badgers didn’t usually associate with other shifters. They stuck with full-humans, blending in so they could manipulate and use them for their own profit and entertainment. Like Rasputin. Like the Borgias. But one fang-filled outburst from Max and his grandfather had known what she was and that he didn’t want his only grandchild hanging around her. Meaning Xavier Vargas could have easily raised his grandson in the shifter world without any assistance from anyone.
But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d lied by omission. When Zé had come to him confused and a little scared because he could run faster than anyone in his class, or could fall from trees and the second floor of buildings and not get a scratch much less a broken arm or leg like his friends, or when he’d hissed at his high school football coach because he’d grabbed Zé’s shoulder, pissed about a missed play, Xavier Vargas could have sat Zé down and explained it all to him so that he didn’t feel like a weirdo freak among his full-human friends.
But, again, he hadn’t done that. Any of that. He’d just let his grandson go around feeling like an outsider, when the world he truly belonged to was right next door. A world that Xavier understood and seemed to be more a part of than any full-human who had fallen hopelessly in love with a cat or dog or bear.
Knowing that, understanding that, was too much for Zé. Just too much after everything else he’d experienced the last few days.
He carefully placed the untouched beer onto one of the end tables by the couch and walked out the door of the apartment he’d been trying to get his grandfather to leave for the last decade.