In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,48

find you an exercise class of some kind.”

“I could try the step thing,” Stevie suggested, pointing across the gym to a step machine.

“No,” Shen, Kyle, and Oriana said as one.

“I agree with Oriana,” Shen said. “You should stay away from the machines.”

“I was just trying to see how it worked,” Stevie clarified. “Then things went weird.”

“Of course they did.” Oriana reached over and patted Stevie’s shoulder. “Of course they did.”

* * *

Cella “Bare Knuckles” Malone had what many would consider a good life. She had a beautiful daughter. An irritating but loving family. And two jobs she loved. Coach of the New York Carnivores pro hockey team and recently promoted head of the “Wet Works” division of Katzenhaus, the protection agency of the Cat Nation. Both paid very well and they allowed her lots of freedom. Like continuing to work with the only canine she could truly tolerate for any length of time.

Many of her feline compatriots often asked her, “How can you put up with Dee-Ann Smith?” But that was just a narrow view. Because taking someone as laid-back and uncaring as the scariest Smith of all—next to Dee-Ann’s father, Eggie—and finding something that actually irritated the living hell out of her was like catnip to this Siberian tigress.

Sure. She could be in Europe, working with the Parisian organization of Katzenhaus. But then she wouldn’t be here, watching a snarling, angry She-wolf attempt to stare down a honey badger who was thoroughly enjoying her honey macchiato.

Malone had had staring contests with Smith more times than she cared to think about, but she’d always lost because at some point, she couldn’t take it anymore, and she’d launch herself at the She-wolf and the fight would be on.

But the honey badger wasn’t backing down. She wasn’t freaking out. She wasn’t even getting aggressive. She just kept sipping her drink and smiling.

The insane staring went on for so long that Cella was about to intercede—something she never did, because she wasn’t stupid.

But before she could say, “Hey! Idiots!” Smith slammed her fist on the table.

Cella and the rest of the coffee shop inhabitants jumped. Although Cella was mostly shocked that Smith was the first to break.

The badger’s eyes widened dramatically at Smith’s sudden explosion . . . then again, so did her terrifying smile.

The badger placed her drink on the table and asked, “Something wrong . . . ma’am?”

Smith nearly had her hands around the badger’s throat before Cella managed to pin them to the table, which forced Smith to sit back down.

“Call me ‘ma’am’ again . . .” Smith dared.

“Would you prefer ‘spot’?”

Cella grabbed Smith around the waist and dragged her from the table she’d been crawling across so she could get to the badger grinning at her. Cella practically had to carry her outside, dumping her as soon as they were back in the middle of the lobby.

“You need to calm down,” she told the red-faced She-wolf.

“That woman—”

“Is messing with your mind, and you are letting her, which hurts . . . because that’s my job.”

Smith pressed her fingers against her chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kill anyone as badly as I want to kill that woman.”

Cella quickly realized that said a lot. Smith had tons of patience. She’d been known for it when she was a Marine. Able to wait for her prey for days, if not weeks. Yet this one, small woman was really getting under the She-wolf’s skin. And Cella wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Maybe I should talk to her alone,” Cella suggested, and instead of being insulted, Smith just gave a short nod and turned away.

Smith exposing her back to a Siberian She-tiger? Something the wolf had been taught not to do since before she could walk. Eggie Smith had made sure of that.

Deciding it was best to get this over with as soon as they could, Cella headed back into Starbucks.

* * *

Stevie didn’t appreciate how much laughter was going on between siblings who didn’t get along. At least that’s what Kyle had always told her. That he barely tolerated Oriana. “She’s a genetic freak who’s lucky I acknowledge her as a human being much less my sister,” he had said to Stevie on more than a few occasions.

And yet here they were. Together. Shoulders touching. Laughing at her.

“It’s not funny,” she complained.

“Who gets punched by a yogi?” Oriana said around her laughter, tears pouring from her eyes.

“If he doesn’t want his students to ask questions,” she shot back, “then he shouldn’t act