“Why are you here, kitty?” she asked.
“I’m just visiting—”
“Don’t lie to me. I’m not a bear. I’m not a cat. I’m definitely not a dog. And if you don’t think I’ll tear your throat out and bury you in our backyard beside the tree the bears use to scratch their backs . . . you are woefully wrong. So I’ll ask you one more time. Why are you here?”
He didn’t answer right away, so Max pressed her middle claw into his neck, just above the artery, making sure she scraped it.
“I’m Katzenhaus,” he angrily growled out.
“And what’s a Katzenhaus kitty doing in bear-ville?”
“Watching out for you three freaks.”
“Really? Well, good job!” she laughed. “Because we both know it’s not just you.” She used her free hand and pointed. “There’s a kitty there. And there.” She leaned over him and pressed her finger against his nose. “And there!”
He pulled his head back. “It’s for your protection.”
“Of course. I’m sure it has nothing to do with my Uncle Will coming to town.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar, liar, I’ll set you on fire.” He tried to pull away from her, but she yanked him back. “Look, you can’t be here. The bears aren’t going to be okay with that, and you should know better than to have empty food bags in your car. That’s only going to attract more bears. But your friends can stay where they are, if you want. Just keep in mind that if they do anything to upset my sisters”—she grinned—“I’ll kill all of you. And, in case your boss didn’t tell you, I’m really good at that. Now all my sisters are good at it, too, but I don’t have a moral issue with wiping out the lot of you. Do we understand each other?”
“I understand you’re nuts.”
Max nodded. “Then we do get each other.” She stared at him a moment until she finally had to admit, “Your hair is amazing.” She removed her claws from his throat and buried both her hands—claws now retracted—into his gold mane and ran her fingers through it. “Look at this thing. It’s so thick and well-conditioned!”
The cat pulled away from her so quickly, he slammed into his own SUV.
He pointed at her. “Stay away from me.”
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.
“Yes!”
“Good. Remember that feeling . . .” She grinned again. “Hopefully it won’t be your last.”
Max turned her back on him and headed to the house. Fresh clothes were waiting for her on the swing, but the house dog—she could never remember the dog’s or the dog’s girlfriend’s names—had put his big body on top of them.
“If I asked you nicely to move . . . would you?” All that got her was an eye briefly opening before the dog went back to sleep.
Shrugging, Max walked naked into the house to get another set of clothes and see if her sister had saved her anything with honey in it. She had her hand on the banister of the stairs that would take her to her room when Britta walked out of the kitchen, a giant, half-eaten honey muffin in her hand, crumbs around her mouth.
“Katzenhaus?” she asked.
“Katzenhaus,” Max replied.
She heard Charlie talking to Berg in the kitchen, so Max added, “Keep it between us, huh?”
“Sure. But if they bother you . . . come to me.”
Max nodded. “Will do.”
She jogged up the stairs and walked down the hall to her room, smiling as soon as she entered.
The plate sat on her side table, a pile of still-warm honey buns waiting just for her.
* * *
“It’s stupid. And if you think it’s not stupid, you’re stupid too.”
Stevie was shocked. She’d never seen Shen truly angry at . . . anything, actually. He’d certainly never been really angry at her. Not like this.
“I’m just trying to—”
“I know what you’re trying to do and it is stupid.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said softly, eyes downcast on her now-melted banana split.
“Do not try that lost-little-girl thing on me. It won’t work.”
Annoyed he’d caught her, Stevie shoved her split away with a flick of her finger and dropped her forearms on the table.
“Fine,” she snapped, gaze focused directly on him. “What do you want me to say?”
“Say you won’t do this. Say you won’t talk about it again. It’s wrong and you know it.”
“What’s wrong? What do you think I’m talking about?”
Mirroring her, Shen dropped his forearms on the table and leaned in. “Genetic engineering.”
Stevie couldn’t hide her surprise. He even had the terminology right.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not stupid. And I saw The Boys from Brazil,” he added in a whisper.
Stevie crossed her eyes. “Seriously?” she demanded. “You think I’m trying to clone Hitler?”
“You’re trying to change who you are. You talk about using medication, but you’re really talking about that ex-boyfriend of yours. Who’s killing people, by the way. No wonder you agreed to work with Conridge. I should have known.”
“But what if he’s figured out something?”
“By testing on unwilling victims?”
“We don’t know they’re un—”
“Stop. You know, you act like you’re something that has to be fixed. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I have anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. And with a thought, I can change into a two-ton thing that no one in this universe has ever seen. I could have destroyed a city block this morning.”
“But you didn’t. What you need to do is manage that side of yourself like you manage your anxiety and panic attacks. Learn to control it. Like the rest of us do.”
“I’m not like the rest of you. In so many ways.”
“Right. You’re a genius. And if you wanted to, you could create something that could demolish an entire city block.”
Stevie couldn’t help but smirk. That’s what got her picked up by the government when she was still a kid. They wanted her science so they could do just that. Destroy city blocks. But she’d burned all her notes and refused to help them.
“Since your brain is so dangerous,” Shen went on, “maybe we should fix that. Cut out the part of you that makes you smarter than almost anyone else in the world.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Because that’s basically what you’re trying to do to yourself. What you are, what you can become, is just as important a part of you as that brain you’re so arrogant about. If someone said they wanted to ‘fix that’ would you want me to stop them?”
Stevie hated Shen at the moment. She hated him because he was right and they both knew it. And she hated him for not letting her do this thing. This thing that would protect everyone. Especially her sisters.
“But Max and Charlie—”
“Would beat the living shit out of you if they knew. That’s why you didn’t want me to tell them in the first place.”
“Will you tell them?”
“Not if you promise not to do it.”
“But basic research—”
“No. I mean it, Stevie. I won’t say anything to your sisters, but if you start down this road ever again . . . I will get a bullhorn and stand in Charlie’s kitchen and yell it while she’s baking.”
Stevie dropped back in her chair. “Fine.”
“Good.” He reached across the table and picked up the melted banana split, holding it aloft for the waitress.
When she arrived he said, “Could you get us a re-do of our orders. We got so into our conversation, we never had a chance to eat.”
“Sure. But you know we’ll have to charge you.”
“No problem, sweetie.” Shen grinned at Stevie and she could see his front fangs peeking out. “It’s my treat.”
chapter SEVEN
She’d stopped speaking to him and they’d eaten their desserts in silence. Angry silence. But that was okay. He was fine with her being angry. He preferred an angry Stevie to a self-destructive Stevie. And what else could he call what she’d been planning for herself but self-destructive?
He parked the SUV and got out. By the time he stepped onto the curb, she had stormed her way up the house’s front steps and now stood on the porch, staring at the swing where Max was sitting.
Shen moved in beside her and turned, quickly taking a step back. “What happened to your face?”
“Don’t get so dramatic,” Max complained, ignoring the large diagonal skin tear from her forehead, across her nose, to the opposite jaw.
“Max,” Stevie said with a shake of her head. “You can’t keep getting into street fights with that cat.”
“A cat did that to you?” Shen asked.
“That fucking thing is rabid.”
“It’s not rabid,” Stevie replied. “Although if you are so concerned about rabies, you really should stop chasing those squirrels.”
Shen pointed at her face. “You really should . . . clean that.”
It was like the cat had dug in all the claws from one paw and just ripped downward at an angle. A few more hours and the wound would go septic.
“Don’t worry about my face.” Max lowered her phone. “Where have you two been?”
Knowing the constant bickering between Stevie and Max, Shen could only imagine the reply Max would get from her baby sister, but he never expected—
“On a date!”
Max raised a brow at Shen but he immediately shook his head. “No, we weren’t.”
“You took me out to eat,” Stevie replied calmly. “That’s a date.”