Bear Meets Girl

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tuesday morning, Ric Van Holtz dragged himself out of bed and made his way to his kitchen to get the coffee started. He ground the beans, pulled down a coffee mug, and waited while his fourteen-cup coffeemaker did its work.

And when that hand slipped across his naked hip, he didn’t jump ... anymore. It took some getting used to, living with the sneakiest of wolves, but Ric wouldn’t change it for the world. Eyes still closed, he turned his head and soft lips pressed against his.

“Glad you’re home,” he murmured, nuzzling the She-wolf who pressed her long body next to his. “What’s going on?”

“The bear’s information was right. Found Whitlan’s office. And he’s in it.”

Ric opened his eyes, and nodded. “Take it down. Tonight. Bring him in alive, Dee-Ann.”

She grinned, kissed his neck. “You’ve got it.”

Crush’s phone woke him that morning from the most erotic dream he’d had in a while, involving a She-tiger in hockey pants, and he wasn’t happy about it.

He swiped the cell phone off his nightstand. “What?”

“It’s MacDermot.”

“What?”

“Meet me at the office at six.”

Crush glared over at his bedside clock. “It’s six-thirty.”

“No. I meant six tonight.”

“Why?”

“Group and KZS are taking down Whitlan. Tonight.”

“Wait. They found him? How did they even know—”

“God, you’re like my kid. Asking ten thousand questions.”

“I’m a bear. That’s what we do. And this is our case.”

“Flexibility is key for this job, Crushek. Get used to it. Besides, I’ve just accepted the fact that Dee-Ann Smith has contacts you and I just ain’t got. And if she wants to find you—she’ll find you. Now, I’ll see you at six.”

“But—”

“If it makes you feel better, your girlfriend will be there.”

“My—”

“Also heard you’re a hell of a kisser.”

Crush sat up. “What?”

Cella packed up her duffel bag, throwing in a few extra clips for good measure, and zipped it up. She looked around, made sure she had everything. She did, and what she didn’t have, KZS would provide.

Pulling on a light denim jacket, she picked up her bag and rushed down the stairs, through the kitchen, waving at her mother and father, then around the side of the house. Meghan and Josie were already heading to the Jeep, schoolbooks in hand, discussing something in whispers.

“I’m working tonight, babe,” Cella called out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cella tossed her bag into one of her brothers’ cars. She didn’t know which one.

“That’s fine. I’m babysitting Deena’s kids tonight. But can we talk tomorrow, Ma?”

Cella, about to get into her car, stopped and looked over at her daughter. “Talk? Oh, you mean about you heading to Hofstra in the fall? Sure ... we can talk about that.”

Josie, an apple in her hand, stared first at Meghan, then at Cella.

When her daughter didn’t say anything, Cella got in her car, pulled out of the driveway, and headed in to work.

MacDermot was standing outside the office waiting for him. She had two big cups of coffee and a pastry bag. When he got close she demanded to know, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Malone told you about ...”

MacDermot laughed. “She didn’t have to. Everybody told me how cuddly you two were at that freezing party.”

“Ice Party.”

“Whatever. Although really, you should have told me.”

“Why the hell would I tell you?”

“We’re partners.”

“We’re partners, MacDermot, not girlfriends. We’re not going to sit around talking about dates or our periods or your husband’s problems with roaring at his neighbors.”

MacDermot sighed. “We got another noise citation last week. I keep trying to convince them it’s the dogs, but no one seems to believe me.”

Crush snatched one of the coffees away from her. “Can we just get this over with?”

She held up the pastry bag. “I brought treats.”

“What kind?”

“Honey buns and—”

Really mad now, Crush barked, “Do I look like a grizzly to you? Do you see a hump? Or an ‘I’m stupider than you might think’ look on my face? Huh? I thought we already discussed this.”

MacDermot’s top lip curled the tiniest bit. “Am I going to have to shoot you? Because I will shoot you.”

Crush snarled and turned away from her.

“What about cinnamon?”

“What about it?”

“I also got cinnamon twists because I like the honey buns. I’ve made it my business that the only predator whose diet I worry about is the one who fucks me regularly. And last I looked this morning—that wasn’t you. Now do you want the goddamn cinnamon twist or not?”

Crush turned back around, eyed MacDermot. “You always this cranky?”

“Only when I have to deal with more than one predator a day.” She held out the bag. “And you better eat this now. The ones inside do not share.”

He took the bag. “I’m top of the food chain, MacDermot. . . no one takes my cinnamon twists.”

“Great. First I have to deal with Captain Ego at home and now Commander Boar Rage at work.”

She turned and headed into the office. “Come on.”

Crush followed her, stepping into the first-floor elevator. But instead of pushing the button for their office floor, she pushed the one for the basement. Crush hadn’t had a chance to fully explore the place yet, so he had no real idea what was on this floor.

They stepped out and walked down a long hallway, finally stopping at a room. MacDermot kicked the steel door with her foot and after a few seconds a She-leopard opened it.

“You’re late, MacDermot.”

“You gonna start with me now? Because I have no problem shooting every one of youse.”

She pushed past the female and walked inside. The She-leopard winked at him, her smile telling him she enjoyed fucking with MacDermot. Damn cats and their damn emotional torture.

Crush walked into the room and immediately stopped, his gaze looking over everything.

“Your gear’s here,” MacDermot said, pointing at a locker.

“What is this?” Crush asked, slowly walking up to her, his eyes still locked on what he was seeing.

“What’s what?”

“This, MacDermot. All of this.”

“What? You mean the rocket launcher? That’s a just in case, really.”

Crush stared at her. “A just in case?”

“You never know. Hurry up. We’ll take one of the vans and go check in with the others.”

“You mean the Group?”

“And KZS.” MacDermot pointed at the other shifters in the room. There were about twelve. He knew some of them, had never seen the others, and they represented many breeds. Knowing MacDermot, Crush would bet that most of them were military trained. “This is our team. The best of the best, as far as I’m concerned. You and me, we take lead.”

“You and I.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No ...” Crush shook his head. “Forget it.”

“Right. You and me take lead, NYPD is there as backup for the Group and KZS.”

“Who are their team leads?” a black bear asked while he pulled his vest over his incredibly wide chest.

“Malone and Smith.”

When the rest of the team members nodded their heads, seeming to approve, Crush could tell that Malone had already earned a good reputation with the others.

“You guys get the vans and meet us at the Group offices.”

“You’re going now, MacDermot?”

“You know they’re always late. As it is, I’m guessing it’s going to be a long night.”

Crush felt the need to ask, “So while we’re backing up Group and KZS, what are they doing?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you care?”

“Not particularly.” MacDermot shrugged. “They do most of the wet work.”

When the rest of the team nodded in agreement as if that made things all better, Crush replied, “I can’t express to you how much that one sentence freaks me the fuck out.”

MacDermot grinned, patting his bicep since she couldn’t reach his shoulder without getting on a stepladder, “You’ll get used to it. Now let’s go get your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my—”

“Who’s his girlfriend?” the She-leopard asked.

“Malone.”

And when all the females replied, “Awwww,” Crush sighed and briefly thought about retiring and opening up a little bar on a Barbados beach somewhere.

Cella ducked the fist to her face and swung her own left, slamming it into Smith’s jaw. She danced back on her toes, and smiled at Smith. Cella loved fighting Smith. She was one of the few who could actually take a punch to the face without all that sobbing and pleas for mercy.

Cella hated that.

Smith came back up, swinging at her again. Cella ducked, but she got a knee to the face and then Smith kicked her right out of the ring—again.

She slid face-first into a big pair of feet while the crowd that had been growing steadily since she and Smith stepped into the ring cheered and roared.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Hey. She knew that voice. “Daddy?”

Big hands reached down and picked her up off the floor. “Now you’re freaking me out.”

Cella shook her head, trying to clear her vision. She saw coal-black eyes staring at her. She knew those eyes! From somewhere.

“Hey ... you.”

“You don’t know my name, do you?”

“I will ... as soon as that ringing stops in my ears. But I will say you’re very cute.”

“Hey, Malone,” Smith called from the ring. “Don’t you remember? That’s your boyfriend.”

“Pretend boyfriend. He’s a perfect pretend boyfriend ... I think.”

“I don’t understand,” MacDermot cut in. “Why are you two beating the hell out of each other when you know we’re going to work tonight? The team will be here soon.”

“Don’t yell at me, cop.” Cella wrapped her arms around the bear’s waist and rested her head against his chest. “Don’t make me get my boyfriend to beat you up.”

“You’re bleeding all over my shirt.”

“It’s black.”

“Yeah, but now it’ll be sticky.”

Now that the bell Smith had rung had finally stopped ringing, Cella looked up at, uh ... Crushek! That was his name! “Yeah,” she shot back, “sticky with my love.”

Both MacDermot and Smith laughed and, after sighing, the bear wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor.

“Hey!”

“Come on.”

“Come on where?”

“To get you cleaned up.”

He walked off with her, stopping by one of the Group members, a fellow polar, to ask, “Bathroom?”

The polar grunted and jerked his head. Seemed it was enough, though, because Crushek found the co-ed locker room. He placed her on the long sink and pushed her hair off her face to look at her bruises and cuts.

“So is that how you guys communicate with each other? Grunting?”

“ ‘You guys’?”

“Bears. He grunted and you seemed to know exactly where to go.”

“Why waste words when a nod in the right direction is all that’s needed? God, you heal fast.”

“Hhhmh. It’s a Malone thing.”

Crushek wet a paper towel and began to remove the blood from her face. He had such a nice touch, too. Considering the size of those hands, she always expected him to be much more fumblelike about it.

“So do you always fight your team members?” he asked.

“No. But I always fight Smith. She’s gotta jaw like granite. I figure if I can survive a fight with her, I can survive a fight with damn near anybody.”

“Yes. That’s what you want to base your friendships on. Whether your buddies can take a hit to the face.”

“What about Jai?”

“Jai?”

“The one you keep calling Dr. Davis. All serious and shit about it, too.”

“It’s called respect.”

“You’re just a suck up because she’s the team doc.”

“Can you blame me? She’s actually helped the victims of you and the Marauder. She should get a medal.”

“Don’t call them victims, just the opposing team. No use giving them special titles like victims. And,” she went on, “I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone if they didn’t go after Novikov. I’m only protecting him. That’s my job, in case you don’t remember.”

His eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You hit Dr. Davis?”

“Of course not. That’s the point. I have a healthy range of friends. Some I can punch in the face and some I’d never, ever consider it. Well, actually, I have considered it with Jai because she can be a snobby bitch, but I’d never do it. She’d crumple like a house of cards and then I’d feel bad.”

“That’s big of you.”

“I am all heart.” Cella laughed and reached for Crushek’s T-shirt, pulling him closer so that he rested right between her legs.

“I am still thinking about our last kiss, which is huge for me because I find most beings downright forgettable.”

“Isn’t that a cat thing?”

“Yeah. But once we lock on ya, it’s hell getting rid of us.”

He gazed down at her. “I thought I was just your pretend boyfriend.”

“But I think a pretend boyfriend should come with benefits.”

“Shouldn’t they come with pretend benefits?”

“No. Real benefits for pretend boyfriends. That’s my motto.” Cella studied him for a moment and said, “Want to know how you, as my pretend boyfriend ... can help me out?”

“Pretend help you out?”

“Uh-uh. The real thing.” She slid off the counter. “Come on. I need you to watch my back.”

He scowled, his gaze locked on her mouth. “Is that some sexual talk I’m unfamiliar with?”

“No. I need you to keep an eye out for Blayne,” she whispered.

“Uh-huh. And why would I need to do that?”

“Because I asked you to. God, what kind of pretend boyfriend are you?”

“A confused and fictitious one?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

Crush had no idea what to do with this woman. He wasn’t sure if she went out of her way to confuse him or if she was just confusing in general. Either of these scenarios was possible with her.

But still, he was curious to see what she was up to and what she felt the need to hide from Blayne Thorpe, a woman who seemed to love everybody and have absolutely no secrets. He really hoped it wasn’t anything involving life or death. He’d hate to have to choose sides.

Malone eased the locker room door open and peeked out, looking first one way, then the other. Once she seemed satisfied, she tugged and led him into the hallway. She moved quickly. Crush just needed to lengthen his stride a bit to keep up with her as she went down to the game room that was, as always, filled with hybrid kids.

Malone took another quick look around and then dragged him into the room, closing the door behind them. “Keep a lookout for Blayne.”

“But she can see right through the big window.”

“Just do what I ask. If you see her, let me know.”

“You should stop involving Blayne in whatever you’re doing. You’re upsetting the Marauder’s equilibrium.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” She stopped, faced him. “How do you know that?”

“No reason.”

“You’re lying. What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing.” When she kept scowling at him with those gold eyes, he finally admitted, “We just had lunch ... couple of times.”

“Awwwww. You’ve made a friend!”

Annoyed, Crush snapped, “Don’t we have something we’re supposed to be doing? Like ... our jobs?”

“Do you have any idea how long it takes for shifters to get their shit together so we can head out? Trust me, we have time. Besides, this is for my job. The one you care the most about now that you have a friend... .”

“Shut up. I have to put on my body armor.”

She made a sound that seemed distinctly ...

“Did you just purr at me?”

“Yeah.” And she kind of growled that. “Body armor over all those muscles ... what kind of response do you expect from a girl?”

“Not purring, but, uh, thanks?”

She winked and walked farther into the room, Crush behind her. The kids stopped what they were doing to watch them, some of them recognizing Crush. Not who he was specifically, though. He could just hear them whispering to a friend close-by, “Cop.”

Then a few left the room while some others just kept watching.

Like Malone had said, street kids. Who’d already been through a lot, he guessed. Just like Hannah had.

Fascinated, he didn’t even realize they’d stopped walking until Cella said, “Hey, Hannah.”

Hannah looked up from her book, brown eyes growing wide when she saw Cella and Crush.

“Oh. Cella. Hi.”

“How’s it going?”

She shrugged massive shoulders. “Fine.”

“So, kid.” Malone released Crush’s hand and stepped closer. “You busy week after next?”

“Busy?”

“Uh-huh. Busy. As in you have something to do?”

“I never have anything to do.” She held up a book. “I usually just read.”

“Reading. Right. Reading is good for you. I love reading.” And when Crush snorted, he got quite the glare. “Magazines,” she amended. “I enjoy reading magazines.” Another scowl at him, then she said to the girl, “But you know what’s really fun? Hanging out with me for a few hours at the Sports Center.”

“Why do you want her to hang out with you at the—ow! Do you mind? I actually need that femur!”

“Okay,” Hannah said. “I’ll ask. Why do you want me to hang out at the Sports Center?”

“Well, you see, the Carnivores and the minor team for New York are having tryouts and I thought you’d like to come and—”

“Aaaah-haaa!”

Crush was so startled by the scream coming from behind him that he spun around and roared.

Accusing finger pointing, Blayne Thorpe stormed her way over to them. Where had she been hiding? He didn’t really know. And how long had she been hiding? No clue.

“I didn’t know I’d have to deal with such betrayal!”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Malone shot back. “You with the drama! And you knew I was going to ask her. You knew!”

“But I didn’t think you would! The travesty! Well, you just keep your grubby cat paws off Hannah.”

“I will do no such thing. And my paws are not grubby, canine.”

“You can’t just walk in here and—”

“I can and I will. I’m giving her the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m not letting you and your girl power sensibilities get in my way.”

Blayne gasped. “How dare you!”

“Cut the shit, Thorpe.”

“You know what? You don’t want to mess with me, Malone.”

“Why? What are you going to do? Sob me to death?”

While the two idiots argued, they didn’t notice that Hannah was desperately looking for a way out of the room, but the females had her backed into a corner. She looked incredibly uncomfortable and Crush got that. Some bears just didn’t like a lot of yelling and drama around them.

Desperate brown eyes sought his, long fingers curling into fists. Not wanting her to snap and possibly bite little Blayne’s head off in the process—she was the closest—Crush grabbed both feline and canine around the waist and took them back out into the hallway. By the time he put them down, the two grown women were slapping at each other like, well ... like regular suburban girls. Seemed odd since neither of them were regular anything.

“Stop it,” he ordered, using his best cop voice.

“She started it. Sneaky cat!”

“Dumb canine!”

“That is enough! I mean it.” Crush stood between the two women, but he faced Malone. “What are you doing?”

“I want Hannah to try out for the Carnivores and Little Miss Mood Swing wants her to try out for derby.”

“Derby, I’ll have you know, has a long and proud tradition.”

“Of tiny shorts and makeup use.”

The two went for each other again and Crush pushed them apart. “Here’s a suggestion ... why don’t you let Hannah decide?”

They both stopped, gazed up at him. “Why?” they asked.

Disgusted, Crush walked back into the game room and over to Hannah. Her eyes were on the pages of her book, but Crush knew she wasn’t reading. Not with her right leg bouncing and her cheeks a bright red.

“Hey.”

She cleared her throat. “Hey.”

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Cella’s boyfriend.”

“I’m not—” He stopped, and calmed down. “Right. And you took on those two grizzlies the other day.”

“That big one hurt Abby, and that full-human girl, she didn’t do anything. She was just helping.”

“I know. You absolutely did the right thing. Not that you care, but I was impressed.”

She peeked up at him through long, dark lashes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately for you, though, you also impressed the two nutbags I took out of here.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“Let me just ask you a question, Hannah, and you give me a straight and honest answer. Extremely honest.”

“There is no ‘extremely’ honest. There’s honest. Or there’s dishonest.”

Yep. She was his kind of girl. If Crush had ever had a sister, he’d guess she’d have the same kind of argument.

“You’re right.”

“So what do you want to ask me?”

“Do you want a shot at playing hockey or do you want a shot at playing derby?”

Frowning, she answered, “I don’t think I’d be very good at either.”

“Only you would know that but, I’m afraid, if you want either of these two off your back anytime soon, you’re going to have to fall on your face to prove it.”

She briefly closed her eyes. “Yeah. I was afraid it was getting to that point. Blayne’s been circling me for months like a stray circling an injured rat in an alley. And then Cella ... I just wasn’t exactly sure why.”

“Do you even like hockey or derby?”

“Hockey’s okay. I don’t know much about derby, but I’ve seen the shorts. I’m not comfortable with those shorts, Mr. Crushek.”

“You can call me Crush. Besides ... I’m guessing I wouldn’t look good in those shorts, either. Although I’ve been told I have nice calves.”

That made her smile and Crush asked, “Can I make a suggestion?”

Hannah studied him a moment, then nodded her head. “Okay.”

“If you tolerate hockey, then go to the Carnivore tryout. Get it done and over with and chances are neither will bother you again.”

“You clearly don’t know Blayne.”

That made him laugh a little. “I don’t know her well, no, but I’m sure sobbing will be involved. But that could work for you, too. Seem all broken up about your humiliation at hockey and maybe cry a little, I’m guessing she’ll totally back off. I won’t promise, however, that she won’t try to find something else to obsess over. I haven’t known her two weeks and I already sense that she obsesses over a lot.”

“You’d be amazed.”

“But you’ll definitely get Malone off your back.”

“I just don’t ...”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Cella. I mean ... she’s Bare Knuckles Malone. The Bare Knuckles Malone.”

Realizing he was talking to a fan, Crush grinned. “Kid, until you’ve spent two hours with your childhood hero—Malone’s father—and listened to him go on and on about his participation in every illegal activity short of first-degree murder and sexual assault ... you really don’t know what embarrassment is.”

She laughed and Crush was immediately charmed. He could tell she was a very sweet kid, no matter what she’d been through. It wasn’t easy to keep that part of yourself when you’ve been through hell, though. No. Not easy at all.

“That really happened?” she asked.

“It really happened. And as you mentioned, I’m a cop. I was torn between whether I should annoyingly discuss every goal he’d ever made or arrest him for anything that hadn’t passed the statute of limitations.”

“What did you do?”

A little ashamed, Crush shrugged. “I annoyed.”

Cella waited in the hallway with Blayne, the pair glaring at each other until Blayne said, “I thought we were friends.”

“We are very good friends,” Cella snarled back. “In fact, I like you a lot, you little bitch. But you get between me and a potential player and I’ll twist your little head around until you can look at your spine.”

Instead of firing a threat right back, Blayne said, “Gwenie can do that.”

“Gwenie can do what?”

“Turn her head so she can look at her spine.”

Horrified, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What is she? A house cat?”

“Nope. She’s just Gwenie.” Blayne grinned. “And I adore your mother!”

“She’s good, isn’t she?”

“So good!” Blayne scowled again. “But you’re not taking Hannah from me.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

The game room door opened and Crushek walked out.

“Well?” both females asked as soon as he closed the door.

With a smirk, he pointed at Cella.

“Ha!” Cella crowed, then danced around a stomping, snarling Blayne.

“I hate both of you!”

“Why do you hate me?” Crushek demanded. “I was just trying to help.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Cella clapped her hands together. “Eat that, canine!”

“I’ll never forgive either of you!” Blayne howled before turning and running down the hall. Then she spun back around and returned.

As she passed, Cella sweetly asked, “Wrong way, honey?”

“Shut up, Betrayer!”

The wolfdog disappeared around a corner and Crush shook his head. “Is there anywhere you go that you don’t bring pain and destruction?”

“As a matter of fact ...” Cella gasped, remembering that people were waiting for them. “That’s right! We’ve gotta get to work.”

She ran back to the locker room to change, but she could hear the bear behind her bark, “That statement does not give me confidence, feline.”