The CDC arrived half an hour after the cops to verify my kill and authorize the payment for my work. As Sebastian happened to be around, he cut through the red tape bullshit in record time.
On Monday morning, I would have twenty-five thousand dollars in my bank account.
Yesterday, that money would have gone towards the surgical reconstruction of my face. Today, I had no idea what I would do with it, but it was mine, so it was going into my savings account. If the big job fell through, I’d be twenty-five thousand closer to having my face back.
If it didn’t fall through, I’d probably need therapy to get over actually having money I could do something with.
The sewing machine itself went into a box with a lot of padding and was buckled into the back seat for extra-safe keeping. Its beautiful wooden stand with drawers went into the bed, and as I had issues, I secured it tighter than Fort Knox.
Sebastian observed, and the lion wisely helped only when asked.
Snapping my teeth and growling a warning had been sufficient to make it clear I would personally handle my new baby.
“Joint custody arrangement,” he reminded me.
“You’re losing this one, because this baby is moving in with me, which means you have to move in with me, and my living arrangements are not to a lion’s standards. You and your ego won’t fit in my home. It’s small, and I rent it. It’s the house version of an apartment. I do my customer service work in the equivalent of a small closet. And since you insist on joint custody, you’ll just have to deal with it. I’ll give you a key so you can visit and sew when you need to visit. If I move away, my entire family will have a meltdown, and there’s nothing worse than a bunch of cats indulging in drama all at once. It’s bad enough when one litter has a meltdown, but all fifteen litters having a meltdown at one time? My brothers would make the news. I’d make the news for killing my brothers, too.”
“I have plans for that. My favorite plan involves rope, a struggle, a forced removal of the lynx of my choosing from arrangements not to my standards and moving her to a location that does meet my standards. As I am a lion, I’ll fight an entire lynx clan for the right to do this if necessary. I’ve never gotten to take on an entire lynx clan at one time before, so I find this to be exciting and interesting. As I get to make off with the clan’s only single woman, I’m the winner of this from top to bottom.”
My virus wanted to get straight to the struggle portion of his plan, and she wanted all of the struggling to take place while naked. Considering her general patience when it came to my non-existent dating or sex life, I wouldn’t blame her for her ridiculous amount of lust.
Sebastian wore his suit a little too well, and the knowledge he’d made it only revved my engine in the best ways.
Still, I’d started our questionable relationship being a pain in his ass, and I wouldn’t go down without maintaining my high standards of driving him insane. “I hope you survive. I will be so sad if my daddy kills you. I’ll probably even shed an entire tear over your loss. And then I’d probably get my uncle as my handler, and work would be so bad. So bad. I’d have to get voice-masking software on my phone and never meet him in person. And figure out how to get the CDC to completely mask my identity to prevent the clan from having a meltdown. It wouldn’t end well at all. For the sake of my sanity and ability to fix my face, you must survive through your meeting with my family.”
His glare implied I ventured close to earning a roar, and my virus perked up at the thought of earning yet another one out of him. I grinned.
When caught off guard, even my family grimaced when I grinned or smiled, as it made the missing chunk of bone in my cheek more pronounced. All my expression did was annoy Sebastian into scowling even more.
“Are you going to roar for me, little kitty?” I taunted while doing a second check of the prized stand for the sewing machine. I gave my new baby a loving pat and hopped out of the bed, securing the tailgate into place. “I do like when I make your fragile hold on your temper fray and snap. And then all you can do to me is roar in my face. In case you weren’t sure, I find that to be so satisfying.”
“The next time I roar, it won’t be because you’re doing your best to piss me off, that much I promise. And the longer you resist, the longer you’ll go without hearing a single roar out of me.”
How utterly ruthless of him. “It better be a really good roar, lion.”
“And I will be expecting your best purrs. And yes, Miss Murder Mittens, lions have sensitive hearing, and I enjoy when you try to hide when you’re purring. That factored into my general willingness to roar at you. It seemed mean of me to deprive the sad, lonely little single lycanthrope of a joy in her life. I’m very interested in discovering how long you can sustain a purr, how loud your purring can get, and if I can make an entire lynx clan uncomfortable through making you purr.”
As far as negotiations went, we both won, and I could easily imagine my entire family having a catastrophic meltdown should a lion make me purr to that degree. “That better not just be some threat. If that is not a promise, I’m warning you now that there is nothing worse than a lynx caught in the throes of utter and complete disappointment.”
Sebastian chuckled, and he circled the truck to the passenger’s side, climbing inside. On my way to the driver’s side, I checked on my excessive collection of yarn, sewing supplies, and everything I needed to craft my way to heaven. “I owe you for my share of this.”
“You owe me nothing, but I will accept positive attention. I have decided your share of the bill is that I must be present when you’re crocheting or quilting, and it’s better if you do your work while near me. I am a lion, and lions require a great deal of attention. I am a lonely lion, so you have to pay extra attention to me. If you do not have a couch sufficient for two lycanthropes who are engaged in crafting activities, I will change that. Or I will bring rope, and I will enjoy your struggles while I tie you up to my satisfaction and drag you to your new home, after which I will recruit the lynx clan to move your things into the space I have chosen for you to live. I have already begun planning my takeover of the lynxes. This plan is exceptional, especially when they come to fruition. I get the woman, and I get control of an entire clan of moody cats. I will become a king of the jungle in an unconventional way. Bonus, I suspect lynxes do not have the general restrictions on number of children lionesses tend to come prepackaged with.”
The disturbing possibility of having gotten my ass kicked by the wolf I was supposed to brutally murder kicked in. I pinched myself, and it hurt as expected. I triple-checked the present vehicles, which by number and type implied somebody had died.
“Well, my mother gets upset when there aren’t kittens under her feet tripping her up, and the latest litter has gotten old enough she violated my poor father for more kittens. I do not think my father minded being used and abused for more kittens.” I hesitated, considering his threat—or promise. Hopefully promise. “Can I demand you must bring the rope? Because honestly, moving sucks, and the only way I’m moving is if someone forces me to move. And if my brothers do all the moving parts I don’t like while I get to struggle, this sounds like moving won’t be as bad as it usually is.”
“We’re lycanthropes, Wells. If you want rope and a struggle, I’m happy to provide the rope and will thoroughly enjoy your struggles. And I’m tired of being a good, patient lycanthrope, and I can’t help but notice you have not rejected me or ejected me from your personal space.”
“I have a week worth of spa and bounty hunting ahead of me, during which you can convince me I should investigate all ways of making you roar. But I’m not giving up annoying you into making you roar during business hours. That makes it worth putting up with you when I’m working.”
“If I had known all I needed to do to keep and hold your attention was roar at you, I would have yanked your tail a little more before indulging you, to make you properly earn those roars. Then again, I probably would have caved early, as a cranky Wells is a lot more of a pain in the ass than a purring one.”
“For the record, I will be purring while my brothers try to kick your ass, but then I’ll go from purring to snarling and yowling as soon as they do kick your ass. We’re cats. And I mean, we’re really cats.”
“As you did an excellent job of subduing your target without injury to yourself, I have decided you can pick what you have for dinner for two nights. Truth be told? That was flawless.”
I showed him where I’d poked my finger. “I did cut myself.”
“You were testing the shears for their viability as a murder weapon, and it would be wrong of me to use that against you. I realized I gave you an unfair option, as you might have wanted great chicken instead of steak. But really, pick what you want. You did that job as cleanly as I could ask for. Actually, I thought you were gonna dance around the point for a while before killing him.”
“I had the shears, she gave me the code, he matched my intel on him, so I saw no reason to give him a chance to surprise me. He deserved it, although he got off a lot lighter than he should have for being such an asshole.”
“Well, it looked like you probably severed his spine with your first hit. I wasn’t really sure why you decided to stab him so many more times, but I’m giving you full points for being thorough.”
“I wasn’t sure of the kill with the first hit, so I kept hitting him until I was sure of the kill.” I gestured to my wet shirt. “I got chicken all over my shirt when my parents inevitably ask why my shirt is wet. But because my shirt is wet, dinner should probably be takeout or fast food. We can do something nice on the way to the spa—or once we get to the spa. It’s a lycanthrope-friendly spa.”
“Will your shirt still be wet by the time we get to your parents’ place?”
Hmm. “I really don’t know. But I would totally wash my shirt in a bathroom sink because I got chicken grease on it, so they won’t think twice about it.”
“Or lycanthrope blood.”
“Chicken grease, lycanthrope blood… close enough.”
As I didn’t want to shame myself or Sebastian with my wet shirt problems, we hit up a fast food joint and got enough to tame our stomachs before heading to my parents’ house, arriving a little before midnight. We could have gotten there faster, but I had needed an hour to convince myself to finish the final twenty minutes of the drive.
“This is the first time you’ve brought someone home to see the family,” the lion guessed when I pulled into the driveway and parked the truck at the end of the line of vehicles, of which there were many. “Honestly, I’m surprised there aren’t more cars and trucks here.”
“A lot of the litters share vehicles, especially the ones who are just learning to drive. It keeps costs of insurance somewhat down. And my brothers end up having to buy their own vehicles. It’s expensive enough feeding the dependent kittens. Anyway, my family usually brings men home to meet me, they run away because of my face, and I pretend I don’t cry or get mad, somebody gets beaten, and it goes to hell in a hurry. If you’re carrying the sewing machine, you’ll live longer.”
Sebastian chuckled, got out of the truck, and headed for the bed.
After some debate, I left the yarn and quilting supplies in the cab and went to help him free the stand, which I would carry, as it would help lengthen my lifespan, too.
Every light in the house was on, and I bet the only reason a stampede of brothers wasn’t running out involved my dad growling a threat of death and murder should they swarm me.
Them swarming me led to one inevitable outcome: a cat fight partnered with a hissy fit. The hissy fit usually outlasted the actual fight, but the last thing I needed was to spend until the wee hours of the morning hissing at the entire clan for being, well, cats.
It took us ten minutes to free the stand and ease it off the bed without damaging it, and I took over carrying it while Sebastian freed the precious Singer from its carry box and carried it in his arms. “All right. I’m ready. Hopefully the sewing machine will discourage my outright assassination.”
“It will, or I’ll be destroying them all with my sewing machine and making them pay the obscene amounts to repair it.”
“I just thought you should know that’s blatantly flirting with me, Wells.”
Damned lion. “If I walk out of this with any substantial bruising, as I absolutely will fight with every last one of the bastards if they get mad I brought home a lion, you will owe me.”
“Do I owe you dinner, pampering, a calmer trip to a yarn store, or all of the above?”
“All of the above. I’m greedy, and I don’t want to choose between those options.”
“You’re hardly greedy. Wells, you’ve never once asked for a raise. Not once.”
I stopped and stared at him. “That’s an option?”
“And I’ll be making sure I prompt you as appropriate for you to ask for raises,” the lion muttered. “When your uncle asks how we met, just tell him we met at a coffee shop, and that you would go for a rare indulgence getting coffee because the shop offers catnip for a fraction of the price of pixie dust.”
As I’d forced him to meet me at a coffee shop for our first meeting to get through it without wanting to claw his face off because he was male, lycanthrope, and in my territory, I chuckled. “Not even a ghost of a lie on that one, but it was hot chocolate. I even got my first roar out of you in like ten minutes flat. And the baristas didn’t even care.”
“One of the baristas at that shop is a lioness, and she’s related to me on my mother’s side. It is friendly towards cranky lions, which was why I had suggested that you meet me at that specific shop. She was rather surprised you’d gotten a roar out of me.”
I regarded him with a frown. “Really? But you roar often.”
“I roar often for you. I roar significantly less often for anyone else. I was using my nose, Wells. You smelled miserable, and when you started to annoy me, and I allowed my annoyance to show, you got progressively more lively and no longer smelled as miserable. I gave you a roar to see what you would do, and you flat-out purred at me. And then caught yourself and stopped purring, but I had you figured out from the start. I should be more concerned than I am that someone finds making me miserable is enjoyable, but I am a lycanthrope.”
“You are such a lion.”
“I really am. I’m shameless, too. Assuming this goes well and we get through our upcoming activities unscathed, I’ll take you to meet my family. You will be encouraged to beat the snot out of all of them.”
“That is the greatest pitch ever, Mr. Mane. Come meet my family. Or meat them. How would you like your family served?”
He chuckled. “Thoroughly tenderized but still kicking.”
“Bold preparation choice, Sumners.” Giggling over the idea of taking out an entire pride of lions, I hauled my sewing machine’s stand to the front door, and as I didn’t have a free hand, I yowled, “Open up, you furry freaks. And don’t you dare scratch my baby.”
My father opened the door. “You do realize it’s midnight, right? Don’t wake the neighbors.”
“Dad, we screech and yowl at each other at night often. They’re used to weird sounds coming from here. Someone screaming to open up is tame compared to our normal.” I set the stand for my sewing machine down and gestured to it. “Marvel at its beauty.”
“It’s a desk.”
“No, Dad. It’s a stand for a vintage 1901 Singer. My new pet lion is carrying the Singer, and he has joint custody rights to it.” I moved the stand so Sebastian could join me. “Dad, this is Sebastian. He is a lion. He is my new pet lion. He made his suit, Dad. He made it. Then we went to a yarn store, and we found this Singer.” I bounced on my toes and waited for Sebastian to ease the sewing machine into place. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
My father didn’t even give the sewing machine a cursory glance, instead eyeing Sebastian from head to toe. “I’m going to require proof you can sew, son.”
“I haven’t used the Singer yet, but if you have a modern machine and the fabric, I’m sure I can put together something for you to demonstrate I do have the ability to sew as claimed.”
“He helped me pick yarn, Dad.”
“That doesn’t mean he can sew, my little kitten.”
“He helped me pick yarn, Dad,” I repeated through clenched teeth.
Sebastian chuckled, reached over, and flicked my hair out of my face. “If it makes him happy, I’ll sew something. How about a pillow? Those are quick and easy, and you can claim it as your territory and beat someone with it. I’ll make it extra durable for said purpose, and I’ll make sure you have a good place to grip it. It won’t take long, and he can see I’m a man of my word.”
“Put a few books inside so it has some heft,” I muttered.
“How about a pouch for a book so when you’re taking your new pillow somewhere with you, you can put the book inside. And use it as an unconventional weapon. And when you’re not using it for carrying a book, it’s good for ice or heat packs.”
“Sold,” I announced. “Go sew me a pillow with a fancy pouch. Dad, show him the sewing machine, and as punishment for making him sew a pillow at midnight, you must provide me with some ice cream. And since Sebastian will be busy sewing, none of you cats will touch a hair on his head.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Had I known there was going to be a sewing test, I would have gotten supplies while we were at the store. You don’t have to defend me from your family, Harri.”
“Come on, Sebastian. You’re basically the only lycanthrope male on the planet I have any interest in defending. My brothers? I just make some popcorn when they get into fights. Give me my moment in the sun. Or beneath the moon, as apparently, the sun has gone to bed.”
The lion chuckled. “Okay. If doing that makes you happy, you can defend my fragile male ego while I introduce myself to the sewing machine and make you a pillow.”
In normal households, I bet the lion would have been mocked to a near-death state. My family eyed the interloping male with interest. I joined eyeing the interloping male with an equal blend of scholarly interest and a healthy dose of lust. Most male lycanthropes would fight to the death before even thinking about being defended by a female. Of any species. At least all the male lycanthropes I knew, in and out of my family.
At the rate the lion kept talking, I’d end up dragging him into the spa through any means necessary, where I’d use him to educate myself on how best to have my way with a man.
Then, because life couldn’t go my way for once, my uncle joined my father, caught sight of Sebastian, and stammered something before recovering enough to ask, “Sebastian? You’re her manly lycanthrope?”
If I went to the kitchen to fetch popcorn, I’d miss the fireworks, so I stayed put and prepared myself to defend the precious sewing machine from two male lycanthropes duking it out.
“You know each other?” my father asked.
“Mr. Sumners works with Interpol, although he also works with the CDC. He’s a liaison, but the part about him working with Interpol is important.”
Of all the things my uncle could say, he fixated on Sebastian’s liaison status with Interpol? Was he unaware of Sebastian’s other work with the CDC, FBI, and basically every law enforcement agency worth notice? Then again, Interpol made a good cover for the lion.
The only drugs my family appreciated were catnip, pixie dust, and alcohol, and we used them in legal fashions. Usually.
I wouldn’t tell the lion about the illegal fashions cats might mix catnip and pixie dust when at home, and at absolute worst, it counted as a minor misdemeanor. Could anyone really blame a clan of lynxes from indulging in catnip and pixie dust at the same time?
We purred, as once we mixed catnip and pixie dust, we rarely could do anything other than purr.
Sebastian grinned and held his hand out to my uncle, who played nice. “Hopefully, that counts as a good thing today.”
“Only if you aren’t stealing my thunder. Again. It’s bad enough when Interpol comes knocking because one of my hunters has a case that is found to be linked with your work. But to run off with my niece?”
“Proud lions deserve only the best.”
Had I hit Sebastian in the head sometime after coaxing a few roars at him? Had he hit his head while roaring? I considered him through narrowed eyes. “The best at what, precisely?”
“Testing my patience,” he replied.
As that was true, I shrugged. “Right. You’re a masochist. I keep forgetting that. It’s not my fault you have a spectacular roar. Dad, tell him roars are a mandatory part of maintaining my good health.”
My dad turned and bellowed, “Betty? Are you really sure this girl is actually ours?”
Sebastian picked up the precious sewing machine and took several steps back. Then, with a thoughtful expression, he abandoned the porch entirely and headed for the relative safety of the parked cars and trucks littering the front lawn. My uncle grabbed the Singer’s stand and likewise got out of the way. As I valued my life, I hopped off the porch and backed away until I was out of range of my brothers.
It took five long seconds for my brothers to comprehend what my father had said, and with ear-piercing yowls, they converged on him. Some transformed. Others went for my father’s throat with their bare hands. My twin brothers sprouted ears, which turned back while they battled to join the fray.
“I see some of your brothers have preliminary hybridism,” Sebastian said with interest. “Do I want to know which litter they’re from?”
“Those two idiots are Hugh and Harvey, and they’re about to get their asses handed to them by my daddy.” Even with all of my brothers ganging up on him, my father would emerge the victor, and if my mother wasn’t already pregnant with the next litter, she would be at high risk of pregnancy afterwards.
Lynxes. I heaved a sigh and bowed my head. “We should have just taken the Singer to my place.”
“But then it wouldn’t be guarded by a dedicated clan of lynxes,” the lion replied. “I’m sure they’ll come to their senses eventually. Cats always come to their senses eventually. We might be here a while, though. Judging from their names, Hugh and Harvey must be from your litter.”
“The excess exposure to estrogen in the womb must have done them in.”
Sebastian headed for my father’s truck and put the sewing machine back inside the cab in its box. “You may as well put the stand in the bed, Henry. It should be safe enough there until they settle down. While I had been expecting a fight, honestly, I’d expected them to be fighting with me. If they want to fight with each other while I watch, I’m quite all right with this. I never thought meeting her family would be this entertaining, though. Had I known how entertaining this would be, I would have pushed sooner. I’m getting one hell of a woman and good entertainment out of this deal.”
“There are medications for your delusions,” I informed Sebastian. “However, I’m delaying any treatments until it’s too late for you to get away.”
The lion’s throaty chuckle intrigued me.
“You sew, Sebastian. That’s basically the holy grail for this lot,” my uncle replied, and he adjusted his hold on the stand so he could press the button to lower the tailgate. “Harri is the least creative in our clan. She likes to crochet, and she is damned good at making quilts, but that’s as far as she goes with arts and crafts. Most of the family sews, because with this many boys in one family, fixing clothes is mandatory. She’s always been very careful with her clothes, so while she can do a mean stitch, she learned because her brothers often needed help to fix their clothing. And then we have the woodcarvers, the painters, and the carpenters, several plumbers, a lawyer, and everything else under the sun around here, so we often barter for fabric and other sewing supplies. My brother’s kids keep him close to bankrupt as it is. Lynx kittens cost a lot to feed. Some kittens are more troublesome than others, and while this one is self-sufficient, she has given even her brothers gray hairs. The other branches of the clan pitch in to help with the bills, as there is nothing my brother loves more than newborn kittens. Betty? She gets cranky when the kittens are over two and there aren’t more kittens on the way.”
I pondered climbing into my daddy’s truck, cuddling with my yarn, and taking a nap with my sewing machine. “What happened to being nice to me? Why are you being mean, Uncle Henry?”
“I am being nice. I’m going to get your new phone out of the house once your father subdues your brothers and it’s safe to take your sewing machine inside. I’m going to be even nicer and tell them I can verify Sebastian’s skills with a sewing machine, and that he’s done repairs to my suits while at work. This is annoying, because I’m supposed to be helping with the beating, not verifying my little niece ensnared a decent lycanthrope in her trap. I’m also disturbed. How on Earth did you meet him? More importantly, how on Earth did you actually lure him into your daddy’s truck?”
“I needed that big truck to hold that lion’s ego and pride.”
My uncle grinned at me. “That’s my girl.”
The lion ignored me, gracing my uncle with his attention. “She was in a coffee shop by herself, and an asshole made a scene because he’s not man enough to handle a few scars. So while he shamed all men, I tried to make up for his lack of grace, buying her a hot chocolate topped with catnip.”
He had purchased a hot chocolate for me, and I couldn’t remember if it had been spiked with pixie dust or catnip, but I’d almost managed to erase the memory of that damned lycanthrope wolf who’d smelled a single female and discovered my face terrified him. “Fucking wolves!” I yowled, although my complaint was drowned out by my squabbling family.
“I’m sorry, Harri. I know how much you hate the flinching.”
I pointed at Sebastian. “All I do is piss him off, and when I piss him off enough, he roars for me. I love the roars, Uncle Henry. He even gets right in my face when he does it.”
“I will expose your purring habit,” the lion warned.
I gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
“I really will. How nothing gets you purring faster than a good roar.”
Ruthless male with his excellent sense of hearing. “It was just a few purrs.”
“I bet I can make you purr right now with one roar.”
I bet he could, too. “What happened to not roaring from frustration?”
“I would be roaring my satisfaction over having frustrated you.”
My uncle closed the tailgate and leaned against my father’s truck. “He’s cornered you, Harri. You may as well just confess.”
“Fine. When he roars, I purr. And I goad him into roaring so I can get my purring in. We’ve been doing this for years. I like his roars. They’re just everything a roar should be. It just happens I finally had a reason to bring him home. And yes, I am planning on dragging him to the spa with me. Would I really choose Cincinnati over Hawaii without a good reason?” Something crashed in the general direction of the house, and I sighed. “I don’t know what they broke, but they really can’t afford to break even more furniture being idiots.”
“Okay, I’ll concede this. I should have put some more thought into why you were picking Cincinnati. A week long stay at a spa for the purpose of enjoying time with someone not in the family is sensible.”
Huh. Either my uncle was dumber than he looked, or he thought I put a great deal more effort and planning into my non-existent sex life. With some luck and help from a certain lion, soon-to-be energetic sex life punctuated with roars and purrs. “Exactly. And I might take a second week to fully enjoy myself.”
My uncle glanced at Sebastian. “Are you even going to be able to get two weeks off? The last I checked, they had you dancing all over the country without a day off in sight.”
“I have been told I need to stop pining over a cantankerous feline and do something about the situation. And I got kicked out of my office for a while. I have some light work to do as time allows. I’ve also been put in charge of handling a few nasty bounties, but I’m the handler rather than the hunter on those. The hunter I’m handling has a reputation.”
“You got the new one, didn’t you?” Uncle Henry shook his head while rolling his eyes. “When they work you to death, put a good word in for me.”
Well, that had gone better than I had anticipated. Rather than expose myself as the lucky bounty hunter with the promotion and a job worth talking about, I kept my mouth closed. One day, I would confess my sins… about the same time I came home without a scarred face. With luck, by Christmas.
It depended on Sebastian’s blood type and how long it took me to take out the bastard killing women through the violent removal of their reproductive organs.
I really hated Jack the Ripper copycats, especially when they targeted women with scarred faces. One day, maybe people wouldn’t view a woman’s beauty as the rent she paid to exist.
That would be a nice day.
Rather than annoy everyone in hearing distance with my opinion, upsetting them as I wanted a face that didn’t make the kittens cry, I practiced staying quiet. Staying quiet kept my family from grumping over how I couldn’t just ‘accept my scars’ or ‘try not to worry about my face’ in my day-to-day life.
I needed to thank Sebastian later for understanding that I wanted to get rid of my scars because I didn’t want to continue going through life scaring the kittens and dealing with people flinching when they saw my face.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll toss one of the stable hunters your way. He’s a tier up from the one I was just given to handle, so he’ll bring you in good change, and he is pretty hands off. It should raise your percentage by a few points without overworking you. However, he can be needy.”
“What do you mean by needy?”
“He likes big families but feels he’s incapable of settling down because of the blood on his hands. You’ll be in therapy with him a lot. He’s an old wolf, so you’ll want to keep him away from Harri, because he won’t flinch at her scars. He’ll have a meltdown and swear vengeance over them.”
“Wait. I like that kind of drama. I don’t mind meltdowns when they don’t involve flinching. And it was a fire. Is he good with kittens?”
“He’s one of the top hunters in the country for cases involving kids, so yes. He’s dedicated his life to getting rid of people who target children. I’m trying to convince him to open an orphanage once he’s unable to maintain his hunting. Right now, he’s between jobs, so it’s a good time for you to start working with him if you want him, Henry.” Sebastian got out his phone, tapping at the screen. “And that’ll free me up some time, too. The bounty I’ll be handling is an ugly one, and I need to be on hand as backup for the hunter.”
“That bad?”
“It’s probably worse than you think.”
“If it’s that bad, take Harri with you,” my uncle suggested. “Despite appearances, she’s useful.”
I choked on my own spit, and even Sebastian coughed. While I meant to do just that, I stared at my uncle, wondering what the hell he was thinking—or if he’d uncovered my dirty little bounty hunting secret. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You can, and have, gone up against every one of your brothers and your parents and emerged the victor just about every damned time. All you’d need to hold your own in a real fight is a knife.”
Damn it. I hated to lose, but I hadn’t thought my insistence on giving it my all during the family brawls had been noticed by my uncle, or anyone else for that matter. “I don’t have a knife,” I lied. “I mean, outside of my kitchen knives, and I don’t want to stab people with my kitchen knives, Uncle Henry.”
“That’s easily rectified. You don’t even need a knife. I’d be worried about fighting you if you were armed with even a spoon. But I’ve got a few pocketknives I can give you. That should give you all the weaponry you need. Just piss her off and point her at who you don’t like, Sebastian. She’s got good reason to have a temper, and she’s spent all of her life fighting with her brothers, so she can handle whatever you throw at her. If you want to throw her for a loop, just tell her she’s pretty. She’ll be so stunned you can get the drop on her.”
“You are mean, Henry Wells!” As it was expected of me, I stomped my foot and hissed at him. “Absolutely mean.”
“What part of that wasn’t true, little kitten?”
“I can handle someone trying to tell me I’m pretty. I handle it by laughing at them. But it doesn’t throw me for a loop. It confirms they’re blind and possibly brain damaged. Or they have a scar kink. I mean, that’s always a possibility.”
“Peter? Your daughter needs an attitude adjustment,” my uncle yowled, and to my amazement, he managed to cut over the cacophony of fighting felines. “She’s callin’ herself ugly again.”
“I’m busy right now,” my father replied, and he tossed one of my brothers off the porch into the grass. “Have the boy adjust her attitude while I take care of this lot.”
“It seems her daddy likes you already, else he would have come over here and beat you for not having already adjusted her attitude,” my uncle said, considering the brawl on the porch with interest. “I’d say take your daddy’s convertible, but your new yarn collection won’t fit. Why don’t you put the sewing machine in my car, and we’ll leave the stand in the bed of one of the other trucks. That way, you two can get back on the road. They’re going to be at it for a while.”
“I’m all right with that if you’re all right with it,” Sebastian said.
“That works. Guard the sewing machine with your life, Uncle Henry. If anything happens to it, I will cry rivers. Entire rivers.” While Sebastian retrieved the Singer out of the cab, I considered the nearby truck options, settling on the Ford with the least amount of rust as a temporary holding place for the stand. Once the sewing machine was safe in my uncle’s car and he gave me my new phone along with several pocketknives, I ran for my daddy’s truck, got behind the wheel, and started the engine. I rolled down the window, leaned out, and hollered, “Sebastian? Hurry up. If they catch us, they’ll keep us here until dawn.”
Sebastian headed over as though he didn’t have a care in the world, chatting with my uncle on the way. They shook hands before my uncle returned to his car to guard the precious Singer.
Once in the truck, Sebastian chuckled. “They’re so busy brawling they won’t notice us leaving. Your uncle even walked over the fight to get something from in the house without anyone caring. Relax. Do you want to drive while I look for a good hotel? It’s too far to reach Cincinnati tonight.”
“He went to get my new phone and some pocketknives. The phone is yet another demonstration of guilt on their part. Forget the hotel. I’ll just take you home with me, that way we can drop off the yarn we won’t need for the next week or two. While I have a couch, it’s small. But so is my bed. You will have to pick where you sleep wisely.”
“But how is the soundproofing?”
I grinned. “My house is small, but it’s far enough from the neighbors a few roars won’t bother anybody. They’re used to lynxes. What’s a lion around for a single night?”
“Don’t blame me if there are complaints,” he warned.
“I think I’m going to be really disappointed if there aren’t now,” I muttered.
The lion smirked but said nothing.