Here Kitty, Kitty!

Chapter Twelve

The phone rang again, and Angie reached over, snatching it off the side table. She would have to change that ring. After getting two orgasms pumped out of her, she’d gone back to bed, and she found her phone ring damn annoying at eleven in the morning.

She flipped it open and, without lifting her head from her wonderfully firm pillow, answered.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. Hey. I’ve got her. Hi, baby.”

Angie sat bolt upright in the bed. Now she was wide awake.

“Mom?”

“Yes. Hi. I’ve got your father here, too.”

Okay, what the hell was happening? First this morning’s antics with Nik and now this.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. But I was going through my day planner this morning trying to find where I’d stuck some notes when I noticed that we missed your birthday. So we wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday.”

Angie closed her eyes. “My birthday? That was three months ago.”

“Well, better late than never.”

Angie would prefer never. She didn’t know why, but no call at all would have been easier than these months or even years later calls that both her parents insisted on. Could they truly be trying to prove they somehow cared?

She already knew they didn’t care. Not about her. Both of them being archeologists, maybe if they had to dig her up in the Sudan, they’d care a little more.

Yet caring about humans just wasn’t in their nature. It never had been.

She felt herself go icy all over. Her heart hardening against the pain. Her heart hardening in general. Before she learned how to do this, she used to do the stupidest shit. It amazed her every day both Sara and Miki stuck around during those ugly times in junior high and high school. Those two women, mere girls at the time, washed the blood out of her hair, put antiseptic over her cuts and bruises, and hid any evidence. They kept reminding her they were her family now and that they loved her even as they pried the blood-covered two-by-four out of her hands.

“So,” her mother struggled with conversation, “how’s it been going?”

What should she tell her? Well, my best friend’s a shapeshifter and my other best friend is in love with one and having his baby. Plus a pack of hyenas tried to kill me. And who knows what the hell the lions are doing. And I’m temporarily living with a tiger who seems to have the hots for me. And you?

She didn’t, however, want to talk to her mother. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to hang up the phone either.

“Fine,” she finally got out.

“Anyway, there was one other thing.”

She should have known better. There had to be a reason her parents suddenly called her out of the blue.

“What do you want, Mother?”

“I merely needed some information on your grandmother’s estate.”

“You know I don’t deal with that. Uncle Ernesto’s handling everything. Has been for years.” Her grandmother had given Angie a good portion of her money when Angie graduated college. The old woman knew then her daughter and son-in-law would make it difficult for her granddaughter. Universities didn’t pay much and it cost a lot to keep some of their digs going. When her grandmother died, the will gave control over to Angie’s uncle who still lived in Brazil, but Angie already had her money and never expected any more.

“You’re much better with him than I am.”

“He’s your brother.”

“Yes. But he enjoys speaking to you.”

“What are you asking from me, mother?”

“Well—”

Angie jumped a little when big fingers gently pried the phone from her hands. She looked up to see Nik staring down at her.

“This, sugar, is called the power of the hang up.” He closed the phone with a snap. “Now, how about some breakfast?”

She didn’t say much, even as she followed him down to the kitchen. But she wouldn’t let him near her either. She shied away from his touch worse than when she first arrived. Damn parents. He’d gotten so far with her and they’d pushed him back about twenty feet. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear what happened just that morning with her groaning and coming like an express train never took place. But he knew it had. His head still hurt from where she’d ripped hair out of it.

Hell, how do parents forget their kid’s birthday? Maybe a father, but a mother? Didn’t she have to push Angie out of her? Usually women remembered that stuff, and most never let a body forget it. At least his mother never did. Especially when she found guilt such an effective method of getting what she wanted from him and his brothers.

His parents always celebrated their kids’ birthdays together, too. One of the few things they willingly did as a couple. From the party he had with a cowboy theme, to the party the twins had involving a clown they scared to death and chased into the woods because it was fun to watch him scream, his parents made sure each and every one of their children felt loved and protected.

The tiger females who raised their kids on their own made sure their children understood this. No matter how many daddies were involved.

Now he understood why these two women Angie kept talking about were so important to her. They were the only family she really had. Even a pack of dogs as kin was better than those people she’d been talking to.

While she ate, he went back to her room and retrieved her phone. He ran through her phone book until he found what he wanted. He pressed the Talk button and waited.

After three rings, “It’s fuckin’ eight in the morning so this better be fuckin’ good.”

Good God.

“Uh…is this Miki?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Nik. Nikolai Vorislav. I have Angie.”

“Oh, yeah. The hillbilly kidnapper. She’s okay, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Yeah. She’s fine.”

“Then what do you want, Jethro?”

He took a deep breath. It was one thing to take insults from Angie, who made his cock hard from simply crossing and uncrossing her legs, but he wasn’t about to take it from some dog-loving bitch. “Her parents called today.”

“Why did they call?”

“I think to wish her a happy birthday.”

The pause lasted a good thirty seconds, then “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me? Her birthday was fuckin’ three months ago. I swear to God these people are fuckin’ idiots!”

Wow. What an interesting young lady. With such a colorful and loudly expressed vocabulary.

“Could you put her on?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

He returned to the kitchen and handed Angie the phone. She looked at it with dread, like she expected it to be her parents again. Although he had a feeling she wouldn’t hear from them again for quite awhile.

She took the phone from his hand. “Yeah?” She scowled. Then she smiled in relief. “You’re such a bitch. I never said that. No I didn’t. No I didn’t. No. I did not.”

Nik shook his head and walked out of the kitchen. He expected her friend to soothe her, make her feel better. Not start a fight with her. But as Angie put her feet up on the table and barked, “You’re so full of shit, Kendrick!” he realized that was exactly what she needed.

Forty-five minutes of arguing over everything from whether Angie promised to call the night before or not, to the planned gift they arranged for Sara and whether Zach would play along, to Miki stating that if she had a boy she was naming him Bartholomew, went a long way in making Angie feel a part of something again.

“So basically you’re going to tattoo ‘kick me’ on his ass.”

“What does that mean?”

“You name a kid Bartholomew and you’re condemning him to a life of torture. You remember those days, don’t ya, Mik?”

“You sound like Conall.”

“Well at least one of you has some goddamn sense.”

Angie let out a breath. The tension and ice she’d felt after the call from her mother had been argued out.

“So, what made you call?”

“I didn’t. Tigger the hillbilly called me.”

Angie swung her legs off the table and sat up. “What? Why?” Christ, her nipples hardened at the mere mention of the man. Was that sort of thing even normal?

“I’m guessing he was worried about you. You can get pretty scary after one of those out-of-the-blue calls from your parents. Me and Sara used to call those your ‘episodes’. Of course, if he’s worried that means only one thing—”

“Shut up, Kendrick.”

“Someone’s in love.”

“Shut. up.”

“I haven’t had a chance to add shifters to The List. You could get him in under the wire.”

“Would you let it go?”

“I could…but where’s the fun in that?”

Angie sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“So, Santiago…”

“What?”

“You like him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t dislike him.”

“Well, for you that’s almost marriage.”

“Very funny.” She wanted this conversation to stop. Now. “Look, could you put Zach on?”

A long pause followed that request. “Why?”

Angie let out an annoyed sniff. “Just put the man on, would you please?” Good a time as any to let someone at least remotely sane know about the proposed truce and the truth about Sara’s mother. Especially the truth about her mother. Sara never knew her mother, and her father had worshipped his mate. So all Sara ever heard were the good things about Kylie Redwolf. Finding out the woman and her lioness buddy went after hyena territory like Donald Trump with a little Gambino Mob family thrown in for color wouldn’t be easy to get across to her friend. They’d murdered that hyena, at least that was how it seemed. They weren’t human when they did it, but they’d hunted down and murdered the Matriarch of the Leucrotta Clan—and Dianne Leucrotta’s mother. Who killed the lion and who killed the wolf afterward, no one really knew. But Kylie Redwolf’s hunger for territory put her on that path and everything fell apart from there.

So Angie needed Zach’s perspective, his calm demeanor…

And his ability to physically hold Sara down when she snapped.

Angie found Nik’s note tacked to the inside of the front door.

Had to go into town for business. Try and stay out of trouble. My brothers are around somewhere, so you’re not alone. And please feel free to put on another pair of shorts for when I get home.

–Nik.

She smiled as she thought about Nik’s eyes on her last night at the party. He did seem to like her legs, especially when she wrapped them around his neck.

The knock at the front door caused her to jump back three feet. She took a deep breath. When did she become such a jumpy mess?

“Yeah?”

“It’s us, Angie.”

Well, now she had a Carolina “us” and a Texas and California “us”. How cool am I?

She opened the door to find Kisa there. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothin’.”

Angie stared at the woman. “You wanna go shoppin’, don’t ya?”

Kisa crinkled up her nose in an adorable way. “Yes, please.” She stepped back and motioned to Reena. “We brought Daddy’s pickup. The real big one.”

“Why?”

“For all the clothes!”

Angie grinned. “Of course.”

Nik never understood why his father insisted on doing business like this. Sitting in a restaurant and signing important contracts between orders of chitlins and pigs feet. What made this time worse…his father seemed to have an agenda.

“So, boy, are you taking good care of your little house pet?”

“Don’t call her that, she’s completely safe at my house, and I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You can’t play with this one, ya know. She’s special. There’s something about her that says she’ll happily kill you in your sleep.”

Nik smiled, even while he kept his head down over the paperwork in front of him. “You like her.”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t dislike her.”

“Hell, boy, for you that’s marriage.”

“I thought we were here to work?”

“Don’t blow this by being a chump. A woman like that comes along once in a lifetime.”

He sure hoped so. He didn’t think he could handle more than one Angelina Santiago. Face like an angel. Body like a demon. Mouth like a Bronx trucker.

But he never planned on keeping her. He wasn’t his father. At least, he kept reminding himself of that over and over again. Still…a woman who practically snaps your neck when she’s coming was not a woman you tossed aside easily.

“Look, old man, I refuse to discuss my life with you. Now or ever. So let it go.”

“All right, if you want your future slippin’ away from you ’cause you ain’t got no sense—”

“Why can’t you be normal?” Nik didn’t mean to nearly yell it, but his father’s pushing had finally gotten the best of him. “Why can’t you be like everybody else? Have yourself more than one female. Have yourself twenty! Why are my brothers, my brothers? And not my half brothers? The only ones who should be from the same mother are Kisa and Aleksei because they’re twins.”

“Being normal is boring.” His father looked around at the greasy diner he always insisted on going to. Full of shifters, mostly tigers but a few Pack and Pride, they all openly stared. Most likely hoping for a full-on fight between the old tiger and the younger one. Old tigers never went down quietly. “These people are boring. Your momma, though…that woman has never been boring. Crazy. Mean as a snake. Snobby as all hell. But never borin’.”

“And what makes you think Angelina is never boring? Right now she’s back at my house reading Vogue—again—and whining about how there’s no TV. Does that sound interesting to you?”

“Really?” His father nodded toward the window. “Isn’t that her in one of my pickup trucks?”

Nik’s head snapped around. Sure enough, Angie—most likely one of the most dangerous drivers in the Carolinas from what she’d told him—was behind the wheel of his father’s Chevy Dually pickup.

“And ain’t that your sisters next to her?”

Nik rubbed his eyes. I leave the house for five goddamn minutes and all hell breaks loose.

“See, boy? Never borin’.”

“What do you think?”

Angie sipped her champagne. She debated whether to be kind.

Nah.

“I wouldn’t, hon.”

“Really?”

“It makes ya look dumpy…and fat.”

The lioness turned and stormed back to the dressing room.

Reena, a little tipsy on all that champagne, stretched out on the couch. Her head rested against Angelina’s side and Angelina felt the urge to toss her off the couch. She didn’t have the heart to be so bitchy, though. Not today.

“You know, Santiago, you should feel damn proud of yourself.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because this is the first time Fallons Department Store ever had tigers, lions, she-wolves, a couple of cheetahs, and a few bears all in the same place without beatin’ the hell out of each other.”

“I thought these places were neutral ground for you shifter types.” She liked this place. It reminded her of Neiman Marcus or Bloomingdales. Big, spacious, with all the great designers.

“They are. Humans shop here, but it’s run and owned by shifters. Still, we can usually smell each other. The lions stay away from the tigers. The hyenas away from the lions. Etcetera, etcetera. This is the first time that I can recall this level of inter-mingling.”

“How many of these stores are there?”

“All over the states and Europe.”

“Cool.” Maybe she could drag Sara’s ass to one close to the Pack den and get the woman some hot clothes without the Harley-Davidson logo on them. “I find out something new every day.”

Kisa sat on the couch. “Like what else?” The more Angie talked to her, the more Kisa opened up. Like a turtle sticking her head out of her shell.

“Well, I had no idea Manolo Blahnik made size thirteen shoes.”

“Well, they don’t make them openly. But the bears and wolves have huge feet,” Reena whispered.

“We heard that,” one of the bears growled.

Angie stood up, laughing as Reena’s head slammed against the couch. “Sorry.”

She headed off toward the bathroom, stopping several times to dissuade two women to never wear orange again and to urge a wolf to consider waxing her brow into two distinct ones.

She reached the bathroom, her hand on the door, when her hackles raised off her neck. She remembered feeling that way before—when she’d turned around to find a hyena female standing behind her outside her shop.

Angie turned slowly. A different female stood behind her this time, but a hyena just the same. She could tell the difference now.

The woman didn’t speak, but she bared her fangs. A whole mouth full of them. Little, needle-sharp fangs that could easily tear the flesh from Angie’s body.

What a pleasant thought.

The hyena took a step toward her and Angelina tensed her body, ready to start hurting anything that got near her. Most normal people would run. But Angie didn’t run unless someone told her too. Otherwise she stood around and started swinging. Since neither Sara nor Miki were there to tell her to run that meant one thing, and she balled up her fists preparing to let them fly.

“Is there a problem, Angelina?”

Sahara Lyon stepped around the corner, a she-wolf female beside her.

“We thought we smelled somethin’ funky,” the she-wolf grumbled. “So we decided to come check.”

The hyena female stared at Angie. She knew that look. The look of someone desperate to kick the living shit out of her. She’d seen it more than once over the years. And Angie bet her face mirrored the exact same sentiment back to the hyena. She could almost taste the beating she’d planned to give her. She could practically feel the flesh and bone give as she laid into her.

“What will you do?” Angie whispered. “So close and yet you just can’t get near me.”

The female took another step toward her and Angie thought she might have goaded the dumb bitch into a fight. But to Angie’s eternal surprise, Kisa stepped in front of her. Big tiger fangs bared. She opened her mouth wide, a tiger growl ripping through the store.

Angie glanced at Sahara who shrugged in mutual surprise.

Kisa grabbed the woman by the throat, yanked her close, and then threw her. The hyena flew over several racks and into a few other hyena females. Racks hit the floor, glass broken, clothes damaged. Angie winced. Well this is gonna cost.

The hyenas picked up Angie’s challenger, not even stopping to brush the glass off, quickly moving toward the escalators as Kisa walked back to Angie. “I think I’m going to get that blue dress I tried on.”

“You do that, Kisa. It looks really good on you.”

The tigress walked off and Angie glanced at Sahara. “Okay. She’s a little scary.”

“A little?”

Nik stood on Main Street next to his brothers. “When did you first see ’em?”

“Just today.”

Male hyenas. Weak, subservient bastards. Probably from one of the Raleigh Clans.

Nik watched them skulking down the street, trying to fit in. But every shifter in town watched them walk by and smelled that they didn’t belong. Hyenas didn’t live this far away from a city. Which really wasn’t very surprising. One breed at a time they’d happily fuck with, which was easy enough to do in a town like New York or San Francisco. But two, three, six breeds all managing to live together in a small town in the middle of nowhere? No. Hyenas stayed near the big cities where they felt safer and could do more damage, usually steering clear of the small shifter-filled towns.

“What do you want us to do?” Alek asked.

“Do what the South is famous for. Run their asses out of town.”

His brothers grinned.