Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles #3) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,9
For those good guys,” she used to tell eight-year-old Max. “Your gut will tell you what they are; then just look in their eyes. You’ll see it in their eyes, and you’ll be able to spot them a mile away. They’re the ones who’ll get in the way of your taking what you want. Don’t let them.”
And this cat had that “good-guy look.” But what really had Max concerned about this guy was the fact that he didn’t know what he was. Just as her twin aunts hadn’t known they were honey badgers for decades, he didn’t know he was a jungle cat, and that put him at a great disadvantage among these killers. If he didn’t know what he was, he didn’t know the level of his power. He didn’t know what he could do. He didn’t know he could unleash fangs and claws and tear these useless full-humans apart. He didn’t know any of that, which meant Max had to protect him.
Her mother hadn’t taught her that. Her big sister had. Charlie, whether she meant to or not, had that “good-guy look,” too. She cared about others. She didn’t want “innocents” caught in the cross fire of any fight and, if they were caught, she wanted to make sure they didn’t end up getting killed. It was one of the main reasons she was such an awesome shooter. The last thing Charlie ever wanted to do was to accidentally kill someone who didn’t deserve it.
Although Max’s desire to protect innocents wasn’t as intense as Charlie’s or Stevie’s, she still felt a sense of responsibility. Especially to a fellow shifter. Max could have easily dug her way out of this hangar in seconds and disappeared into the surrounding territory, out of real danger. But if she did that, she couldn’t bring the cat with her.
So she would stay. And she would help.
Of course, Max’s idea of “help” was . . . well . . .
Max wrapped her hand around the gun raised behind her, easily pushed away the strong arm holding it, and rammed her blade into the throat of the shocked mercenary gawking at her.
Gunshots rang out from another mercenary and Max grabbed the cat by his Kevlar vest and yanked him to the ground. She landed on top of him and grinned down into his shocked face.
“Who’s a cutie kitty?” she asked, loving his appalled expression. “Who is? You are!” She then slapped her hand over his face so she could lever herself up. She threw her blade at the shooter, nailing him in the throat.
More shooting now from different directions and the cat rolled them over so he was on top. He already had his semiauto out and immediately began firing, pushing Max under a large nearby table at the same time.
It was cute. How he was trying to protect her.
The poor guy! He was like an adorable kitten. Just so weak and defenseless he might as well be a full-human.
A sexy, Latin full-human.
His seemingly black hair was cut in jagged layers that kept falling into his face, the ends nearly reaching his shoulders. And his eyes were a bright green that she assumed would turn gold should he ever learn to shift to his true form. The shape of his eyes was definitely like a cat’s, too, as was his flat and wide nose. Just like a cat muzzle.
In other words . . . how could he not know he was a cat? How could no one have guessed? The man was a walking, talking jungle cat in human form! And it boggled Max’s mind that absolutely no one he’d previously known was a shifter or had pointed out the fact to him. Especially if he’d once been in the military. Tons of shifters joined the military and worked for the government. Max had been actively recruited by the CIA for years before she was even eighteen, but Charlie had put the kibosh on that. Unsure of what her big sister had done to discourage that interest—the CIA was not an organization that was usually put off by an easily stressed eighteen-year-old who loathed her father and had been fired from Dairy Queen once because she’d put a mouthy patron in a headlock—Max came to realize that organizations like the CIA, the FBI, or the military weren’t for her. They were too regimented. Too cautious. You had to take orders. Max hated taking orders from anyone but Charlie.