In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,14

nodded and walked in. Kyle turned and started down the hallway, but his overly familiar bodyguard yanked him back by his shoulder.

“Where the fuck are you going?” the giant panda demanded.

“To get someone who can help her.”

“You’re leaving me alone with her?”

“Aren’t you the trained professional?” Kyle demanded, turning to face the security guard his sister insisted he have with him anytime he was away from the family. “Can’t you manage one tiny woman until I get back?”

“That’s not my job. I’m supposed to be managing one tiny boy.”

As Kyle was at least two inches taller than the six-foot panda, he didn’t take the bait. He wasn’t so easily taunted into giving someone what they wanted.

“I’ll be back. Keep her away from everyone.”

Kyle headed deep into the house, ignoring the bear’s “Wait . . . what do you mean? What does that mean?”

He knew where his family would be if they weren’t in the grand ballroom practicing or working. The kitchen. It was where the Jean-Louis Parker clan gathered. But as he neared that room, he heard strange sounds for the middle of the day. He heard children laughing and running. Giggling and screaming.

For most houses with lots of children, these might be considered normal sounds, but not for the Jean-Louis Parkers. If they were home at all this early in the day, each of them would want quiet so that they could do their work. Usually, the only sound they tolerated was the music that came from Coop, Cherise, or their mother, Jaqueline. His older sister Oriana was a dancer, but she wore earbuds to listen to her music. So the only sounds that came from her was of her toe shoes against the floor and the occasional snarl when she couldn’t get a move exactly right. His other, younger siblings leaned toward math, science, and art. All of them demanded silence and hours to work alone. Especially in the summer when they weren’t forced by ridiculous government laws to attend regular schools with regular, useless children.

So what were these annoying noises Kyle was hearing?

He finally reached the kitchen and pushed the swinging door open. He immediately froze, a faint sense of panic inching up his spine.

“Shit,” he said out loud.

“You cursed,” a child he’d never seen before told him, pointing her finger. “You cursed. You cursed. You cursed.”

Thirteen-year-old Freddy—although he preferred to be called Frederick now—pushed the child toward the back door. “Go away.”

Still chanting, the kid walked off and Freddy turned toward Kyle, grabbing his T-shirt and raising himself on his toes so he could more easily look his brother in the chin.

“Help me,” he growled.

“What is going on?” Kyle demanded, looking around the room. There was evidence of children everywhere. Stickiness, half-eaten sugary things, electronic handheld games . . . that were covered in more stickiness. It was disgusting!

“Mom decided we needed a playdate with the wild dog pups across the street. She and Dad felt we weren’t getting enough—”

“Of a real childhood,” Kyle finished for his brother. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t blame Mom. This has Dad written all over it. Dad and Toni.”

The only two normal people in their family, Kyle’s eldest sister Toni and his father, Paul, were lovely human beings, but they sometimes managed to get in the way of “the work.” And “the work” was all the rest of them cared about despite the fact that each of them focused on different things. Kyle was a sculptor. Freddy was all about physics. Family members were divided between the artists and the scientists/mathematicians, but each of them was a prodigy. All except poor Toni, his oldest sibling, and their father. They were nothing but average people with average lives.

Kyle shuddered at the thought.

“Where’s Dad now?” Kyle asked.

“Out back with most of the children and a few wild dog adults.”

Kyle glanced back down the hall; remembered why he was here. “You know what would be great?”

“For me to make a run for it while you distract everyone?”

“No. For you to take everyone back over to the wild dog house. For a little while.”

“I don’t want to do that. I want to get back to work. I thought you, of all people, would help me get back to work.”

“Later. Just get everybody out.”

“Why?”

“Would you trust me?”

“But I don’t trust you.” Freddy’s eyes narrowed. “You just want the house to yourself.”

“I don’t, but believe what you want. Just do what I’m telling you and get everybody over to the wild dog house. Now.”

“Fine. But I’m

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