In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,51

so confused right now. Why did you agree to this?”

“Because I can learn to skate.”

“Anyone can learn to skate.”

“No. I mean, I can learn to skate faster than most people.”

Oriana rolled her eyes. “Honey—”

“No,” Stevie interrupted. “Really.”

“And how do you do that?”

“Physics.”

“Physics?”

“Yes. Physics. Once you understand physics, you can do pretty much anything.”

“Really?” Oriana smirked. “So you can do what I can do?”

“Yes. But I’m lacking your musculature and body type; both of which would be necessary for me to do what you do for any length of time.”

Kyle leaned forward and loudly whispered to his sister, “That’s a really nice way of calling you a genetic freak.”

Oriana unleashed her claws and nearly had them buried in her brother’s face, but, to Shen’s surprise and approval, Kyle jerked his head back out of clawing range.

“I also like my toes,” Stevie suddenly announced . . . for no obvious reason.

“What?” Oriana asked.

“I like my toes. You can’t be a dancer and have pretty toes. And from what Kyle has told me . . . you have some fucked-up hooves.”

Shen cringed as the She-jackal’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. But instead of trying to bury her claws into Stevie’s face as she had her brother’s, Oriana gestured to the ice they were standing on.

“Please,” she said with a cold smile, “show us physics.”

“Actually,” Shen quickly cut in, “how about we take off the skates and find something else for you to do.”

“No, no, no.” Oriana glared at him before flashing that fake smile at Stevie. “Please, show us what physics does for you.”

With a shrug, Stevie placed her left hand on Shen’s shoulder for balance, bent her left leg at the knee, and rested her right foot on her left thigh. She leaned down, still holding onto Shen, and studied the bottom of her skate.

When she was finished doing that, she crouched down and pressed both her hands against the stadium ice.

She straightened, continued to study the ice for another minute. Then, without warning, she started skating.

At first, it was an awkward, wobbly performance that had Oriana grimacing along with Shen. She opened her mouth to call Stevie back, maybe afraid that Stevie would only hurt herself on those skates. But Oriana didn’t get a word out before Stevie abruptly took off. Like an Olympic speed skater, she moved fast from one end of the rink to the other and back again until she reached their small group and slammed to a stop, a burst of ice hitting them all in the face.

“See?” Stevie said. “Physics! Isn’t physics great?”

The sound of disgust Kyle made was definitive, but Stevie chose to ignore it. She faced Shen, smiling wide.

“So, what did you—”

“You here to try out for the team?” a male voice boomed behind Stevie.

Stevie jerked and her body twisted, flying into the air. But the stadium ceiling was much too high for her to reach, so she wrapped herself around Shen instead.

“You really have to stop doing this,” Shen reminded her.

“Does this mean your meds are no longer working?” Oriana asked.

“If they weren’t working,” Stevie growled out, “I would be way worse by now.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Don’t blame me,” Stevie argued. “Look at the size of him!”

Novikov was more than a foot taller than Shen and nearly as wide. He was also a trained hockey player who enjoyed hurting his enemies on the ice. Even worse . . . Stevie had just tried to kill his wife, Blayne, the day before. An event that made Novikov more dangerous than he was normally.

Shen decided to end this before it got out of hand.

“Look, Novikov, I understand you’re—”

The hybrid put his hand over Shen’s face. Shen assumed it was to stop him from talking.

“You trying out for the team?” Novikov asked Stevie.

Stevie, who was hanging off Shen’s left side, her legs wrapped around his waist, leaned forward.

“No,” Stevie said firmly.

Novikov frowned and it was horrifying. How did anyone risk going up against this guy in a hockey game? “Why not?”

“Don’t want to,” Stevie snipped back.

Shen pulled away from Novikov hand and leaned close to Stevie, whispering, “How about not pissing off the psychotic whose wife you just tried to kill?”

“I was not trying to kill her,” she whispered back. “I was playing with her.”

“You two do know I can hear you . . . right?” Novikov asked.

“I don’t want to play hockey,” Stevie insisted.

“Why not?”

“It’s boring.”

Novikov’s eyes widened and he moved back a bit on his skates as if he’d been struck. “It is not boring.”

“It is

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