and quickly left. Apologizing the entire way.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ve got her. I’ve got her. No need to panic. Everything is just fine.”
Even though Max couldn’t see either of them, she knew that Shen carried Stevie back up the stairs because she could still hear Stevie bitching about it, complaining that he wouldn’t let her go and how wrong Irene was as a scientist and a human being.
This went on until a door slammed closed somewhere in the house.
Max smiled at Charlie. “I’m starting to like that bear.”
* * *
“Put me down this instant!”
Shen did as he was ordered, now that they were safe in a bedroom.
Stevie faced him, her face beet red from anger. “I am not done with her.”
“I know. But I’m not sure this is the time to start raging at important people.”
“Important? Irene Conridge? Really?”
“Look, I won’t even pretend to understand what you two are bickering about—”
“Bickering?”
“—but you nearly tore this house down around a very nice family of jackals. Maybe you should take a break.”
Her eyes widened and Shen prepared himself for the explosion to follow.
“I . . . you . . . if . . .” Stevie suddenly screamed. Not loudly or wildly. But in frustration. And then she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Dammit, you’re right.”
Shen frowned. “I am?”
“Yes. You are.” She looked up at him. “Why do you find that so surprising?”
“I’ve been working around this family for a while now. I have yet to meet a current or former child prodigy who has ever told me that I was right about anything. You’re the first.”
She let out a long sigh before replying, sounding a little tired, “Because I’m even weird among the prodigies.” She finger-combed her hair behind her ear. “And if I hurt you—”
“I’m fine. Not even a scratch.”
“But that woman . . . is she alive?”
“Blayne?” Shen couldn’t help but smile. “Trust me. If you didn’t kill Blayne outright . . . she’s fine.”
“She scared me,” Stevie admitted. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“I know.”
She shook her head. “Who goes around hugging strangers from behind?”
Now Shen sighed. “Blayne does.”
* * *
“This is not my fault,” Blayne Thorpe insisted to her husband.
The mammoth man had a very large indent in his forehead and was bleeding from lacerations on different parts of his body while Blayne’s bones were busy snapping back into place. But neither seemed the worse for wear. Thankfully. Irene could only deal with twenty or thirty issues at one time. A few more and she might get frustrated.
“Look at this!” Jackie said, gesturing to the walls. “Those wild dogs are going to make such a big deal about this.”
“You do know that you are also a wild dog? Jackals, dingoes, the bush dog, the coyote, and, as much as it annoys them, the gray wolf are also included on that list. So talking about the owners of this house like they are some lower form seems nonsensical to me.”
Jackie slowly faced Irene, her lips pursed, one foot tapping. Eyes narrowed.
“Too soon?” Irene asked, before she snorted a little laugh and walked out of the room.
She’d just started up the stairs when she heard Kyle.
“Aunt Irene?”
“Stay, Kyle,” she ordered, chuckling when he did exactly as she’d said.
Since no one in the family was on the second floor of the house after the drama in the ballroom, she found Stevie Stasiuk-MacKilligan easily, chatting with the large protector that Kyle often used. Shen Li was one of the few people who could tolerate her best friend’s son although Irene had been surprised to find out that he was a great panda shifter. Such an odd breed for humans to choose to shift into . . . then again . . . she’d just seen a giant honey badger tear apart her friend’s rental home, soooo . . .
Without knocking, Irene pushed the door open and stepped in.
The young scientist jumped to her feet and there was a sudden and disconcerting appearance of fangs.
“You’re not going to ruin this part of their home, too, are you?” Irene asked. “Where will the children sleep?”
“Dr. Conridge—” Shen began, but Irene waved his concern away and closed the bedroom door.
“It’s all right, Shen. Miss MacKilligan and I are old friends.”
The fangs receded while MacKilligan’s shock grew, large blue eyes blinking wide. “We are not friends.”
“Is it because I often forget who you are?”
“No, you don’t. And it’s Doctor MacKilligan. Or Ms.”
“Oooh,” Irene couldn’t help but mock. “A tiny feminist, are we? My generation breaks all the