Big Bad Beast (12 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Big Bad Beast
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C
HAPTER
12
 
R
ic sat at his desk. He was completely alone in his apartment now. His cousin was gone and so was Dee-Ann. Her scent still lingered in his place, though, and he liked it. Probably more than he should since he had no idea what would come of all this. But he was willing to fight for her. She might not realize she was perfect for him, but he knew she was. They just fit together like a really odd puzzle no one could figure out.
But he could think about that later. Right now, he had to focus on something else.
Getting out several pencils and a notepad from his desk drawer, Ric opened the package his Uncle Van had sent him to review and got to work. And the deeper he got into the Van Holtz books, the worse it got.
Dee-Ann stopped by the Group office first and checked in. She also looked in on the young hybrids that currently called the Group office their home. Every day the hybrid pups, cubs, and kits she’d found and brought in received all sorts of training, from basic hand-to-hand combat techniques to learning how to manage their bodies when they shifted. A challenge for a few of them whose DNA mix created something brand new and different. When they weren’t getting training, they were in classes that would hopefully let most, if not all, of them get their high school diplomas. The only one who’d already graduated high school was Hannah, but whether she’d end up going to college or not, Dee didn’t know. The girl didn’t talk much.
And then there was little Abby. How many months had she been part of the Group and she still refused to shift from her animal form to her human one? They only found out her name because they discovered it written on the girls’ bathroom mirror. And in the beginning, because she had a tendency to be destructive, Dee had placed her with the Kuznetsov wild dog Pack. Jessie Ann was her cousin-in-law and her dog Pack was tolerant of mixed breeds. It had worked out well, but then Abby started showing up at the Group’s office, still in her animal form, roaming the halls, begging for food, generally pretending to be the office mascot. It was weird. Then again, so was Abby.
Yet it was all working out, and Dee was just glad to have these kids off the streets. They deserved better than to be going through trash and sleeping under overpasses. Of course, every kid deserved that, but she could only do what she could do. And what she could do was help her own.
“Everything all right here?” she asked Charlene. The fox liked to check in on the hybrids throughout the day and Dee appreciated that.
“Pretty much. They’re getting used to being here, I think. A few have started talking about what to do after they graduate from high school or get their GED. I think most of them will stay on when they hit eighteen.” She glanced at Dee. “They kind of worship you.”
Startled, Dee could only manage a, “Huh?”
“Gonna play that game, eh? Okay. Fine.”
Ignoring those comments, Dee asked, “Hannah?”
Charlene blew out a breath. “Yeah . . . Hannah.”
They’d rescued the pretty but scarred bear-canine hybrid with the brown eyes, brown hair with black tips, and nearly six-three height at one of the illegal fight training centers they’d shut down outside of Ursus County. Dee had wanted to put Hannah down then and there. She’d seemed so . . . empty. The pitbull no one trusted because she’d been in one too many fights. But Teacup had begged and pleaded and all the other shit she liked to do to make Dee-Ann’s life hell. Now they had Hannah here and no one would go near her, even the Unit vets who’d seen it all.
Dee grimaced. “That bad?”
“It’s not like she does anything, ya know? She doesn’t get into fights or threaten anyone. Not like you.”
Dee briefly pursed her lips. “Thanks.”
“But she scares everybody. She’s a scowler. A silent scowler.”
“Yeah, but . . . so am I.”
“It’s different. We know you’ll kill if you have to and you’ll do it without remorse. But so will half the breeds in the Group. But Hannah . . . I think she’s fighting so hard not to be who and what she is—she’s so afraid of it—that she comes off as just downright terrifying. Because you never know what’s going to finally set her off. What’s going to really make her snap her bolt.”
“I don’t know what will either. But I’m not ready to give up on her yet.”
“Because you think she can change? Or because you don’t want to hear Blayne Thorpe’s hysterical crying . . . again?”
“I’m leaving,” Dee said.
“You mean running away from the conversation because you refuse to admit you kind of like Blayne?”
Dee stopped and glared at the bite-sized fox.
“Just kidding,” Charlene said, backing away. “Just kidding.”
Dee left the office and walked into the diner down the street. She spotted Malone and Desiree at a table in the back. They were both eating breakfast. Desiree had a newspaper folded up for easy reading while she ate an egg white omelet. Malone was reading a full-human hockey magazine and downing waffles, toast, bacon, ham, and eggs. They weren’t speaking to each other and didn’t look up when Dee sat down.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem. We haven’t been here long.” Desiree pushed a coffee cup and a carafe over to her. “You want breakfast?”
“Nah. Already ate.” Dee poured herself a hot cup of coffee and took a sip. It was definitely what she needed. “What’s the plan?”
Desiree shrugged. “We could investigate a few more of the property owners.”
“Yeah,” Malone said, “but I really think that’s going to be a waste of time. Why would the ones who own the property put themselves at risk by having the fights there? So far, all the properties have been owned by those who haven’t touched them in some time.”
Desiree poured herself more coffee. “You know what it feels like to me? A real F-U to us. To the ones trying to stop this. And to the ones who own the property.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, it reminds me of the time right after we were married when Mace got his sister to let us use her summer house in the Hamptons. She kept saying we had free rein of the house—but we weren’t allowed to go in her bedroom. Stay away from her bedroom because it was her private sanctuary, even though she only stayed there for a few weeks in the summer with her entire Pride.”
Malone grinned. “You fucked on that woman’s bed, didn’t you?”
“Like bunnies. Because the more she said ‘don’t,’ the more we did. And that’s what using these properties says to me. ‘F-U ’cause I can do what I want.’ ”
“We need to find the money,” Dee repeated the words of the NYPD sow who’d put them on this. “They have to be getting the money somewhere.”
“Yeah,” Malone said, “but does it really take that much startup money to run a dogfight?”
“This ain’t no dogfight, Malone. They’ve gotta transport these people, house them, feed ’em, and it ain’t like feeding some pit you keep in your backyard. Plus, you didn’t see the office we took down back in February when they went after Blayne. It rivaled Group offices.
That’s
serious money. And that’s what we need to find.”
“Then we need to find a fight.”
“I don’t know about y’all, but the last three we got a line on were closed down by the time we got there.”
Malone and Desiree nodded, silently agreeing they’d had the same problem.
“So someone’s warning them when to get out.”
“You think our people—”
“No, no.” Dee shook her head. “I’m not saying we’ve got anyone on our teams rattin’ us out. But there’s always chatter. One of us talks to another to another . . . until it ends up in someone’s lap.”
Malone leaned in a little closer. “But you do think the money is coming from our kind?”
“Don’t you? And something tells me KZS thinks either some if not all of that money is cat money. Otherwise, why else would y’all get involved?”
“You haven’t changed, Smith. You’d love to put this on us,” Malone accused.
“I’d love to put this on the ones doing it. I don’t expect much from the full-humans—no offense, Desiree”—Desiree shrugged, ate more toast—“but I do expect a lot from my own. If it’s one of us behind this, I wanna know. I don’t care what species or breed.”
Malone nodded. “I feel the same way. So does my boss.”
“Good. So we need to track down a fight and we need to be quiet about it. We keep it among the three of us, pull a team at the last minute, and no one says anything to anybody until we’re done. Sound good?”
“So how do we find a fight?”
“I’ve got a contact.” Desiree pulled out her cell phone. “He works with the ASPCA.” When Dee and Malone only frowned, she added, “His thing is shutting down regular dogfights. But I’m guessing he’s got a line on one of the other types without even realizing it.”
Ric dropped into a chair in his Aunt Adelle’s kitchen and announced with little preamble, “I am so screwed.”
Adelle, who’d left the setting up for lunch service in the hands of her sous-chef so she could “get up when I damn well feel like it,” placed a cup of coffee in front of Ric and kissed the top of his head. “All right, darling cousin. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t think I can.”
Adelle sat down at the wood table that Lock had built for her a couple of years ago and studied the small pile of cinnamon buns she had on a plate in front of her. “Is this about your father?”
“Maybe.”
“Because he’s stealing from the business?”
Ric gaped at his aunt. “You know?”
“Who do you think told Van?” She sipped her coffee. “You might as well accept the fact that your father’s a scumbag.”
“Adelle!”
“What? Am I lying?”
Ric put his head on the table and sighed into it, “No.”
“Why are you so upset?”
“He’s my father.”
“Only genetically.”
Ric looked up at his older cousin.
“Look,” she argued, “we all realized a long time ago that you were an at-risk pup. So Van and my brothers all decided to quietly raise you themselves. You were such a smart child, we knew your father would feel threatened.”
“Dad always said you guys babied me.”
Adelle placed her cup down on the table—hard. “First off, we never babied you. Not killing you while you slept is not babying you, Ulrich. No matter what your father may have told you. We, as a Pack, decided to raise you. Properly. And, as a humble She-wolf, I’m happy to say that we did a wonderful job.”
Laughing, Ric sat up. “Unbelievably humble. The world is filled with humble chefs.”
“Exactly. Now”—she picked up a cinnamon bun, waved it in the air—“you’ve got two choices, young man.”
“Two choices about what?”
“Spending July Fourth weekend with your father and the Pack at the Macon River Falls house or—”
“I could set myself on fire.”
“That is
not
the second option.”
“Well, anything but go to another disastrous holiday weekend with my father.”
“If you don’t go,” she teased, “who will apologize for your father’s fuck-ups? You can’t expect
me
to do it.”
“Second option, Adelle?” Ric pushed.
“You attend the children’s hospital charity ball after the Fourth as the Van Holtz representative. I think Van donated something like forty thousand this year.”
Ric hated charity events, but he realized he could invite Dee as his date—then he just as quickly realized she’d turn him down. But still, anything was better than ruining his holiday weekend by spending it with his father. He’d rather sit home alone, watching the fireworks on TV.
“Charity ball.”
Adelle nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’ll let Van know.”
Ric watched her bite into her cinnamon bun and admitted, “Mom came to me the other day . . . asking for money for Dad.”

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