When the pushing continued not to work, Shen became desperate and said to Stevie, “Okay, listen up. I know you are under a lot of stress and need new meds or whatever. And I really want to help you. But that means I need you to get in this car right now.” When she didn’t move, he suddenly had a brilliant idea and added, “So stop being a princess and get in the goddamn car.”
It was as if a light went on in her head, and the cat in his arms suddenly turned into a pissed-off woman.
“Princess?” Stevie snarled. An insult he’d noticed Max had tossed at Stevie more than once, which had always led to a violent confrontation of some kind between the sisters. “Princess?” she now yelled.
“Yes, you’re being a princess right now.”
Her head turned and kept turning until her nose lined up with her spine.
“I’m being a princess? Me?”
“Ahhh!” Shen yelped in surprise. “Is what your head doing normal? At all?”
“Don’t try to distract me from your insult!”
“Turn back around! You are freaking me out!”
“Oh, calm down,” she taunted as she turned her head forward. “You big baby.”
Annoyed by the insult and noticing that her arms and legs were no longer gripping the outside of the SUV, Shen shoved her inside.
“Hey!” she complained as he closed the door in her face.
“Like a house cat,” he muttered, snatching the keys out of the kid’s hand.
“This is so entertaining!” Kyle crowed.
“Get in the fucking car, psychopath.”
“I’m just a narcissist,” Kyle calmly explained. “My older sister, Delilah, though . . . now she’s a psychopath,” he added with a big grin. “Clinically diagnosed and everything!”
* * *
A princess? He’d called her a princess. Her? Stevie Stasiuk-MacKilligan?
She was as far from a princess as anyone could be. And Stevie knew that because she’d actually met royals. She’d performed for them when she was a child and then had given them tours around the labs she’d worked at when she was a teenager. And the one thing Stevie was absolutely sure of was that she was no princess.
How could she be? She was constantly aware of others’ needs and feelings. That’s why she was invited places and Kyle Jean-Louis Parker was thrown out of places. Because, like a true prince, he could not care less about anyone’s feelings but his own.
So that giant panda actually calling Stevie a princess did nothing but upset her. Because it wasn’t true.
She was not a princess!
“What are you yelling about back there?” Shen barked at her from the driver’s seat.
Stevie blinked. Uh-oh. She’d said that out loud, hadn’t she? She hated when she did that.
“Then stop doing it,” Shen ordered. “You’re distracting me.”
Her eyes narrowed on his fat panda head. She was tempted to slap him right in the back of it.
Kyle unbuckled his seat belt and turned so he could reach back and grab her hands, holding them in place.
“Let’s play our ‘We’re better than you’ game,” he said with false cheer.
Stevie cringed, realizing she’d spoken her thoughts out loud again.
“I threatened his big, fat panda head, didn’t I?” she asked Kyle.
“You did,” Shen told her. “And my head is not fat.”
“It’s not small!” she barked back.
“Stevie,” Kyle said, voice strong, “look at me. Focus on me. Because I’m fascinating.”
“I’m not a princess,” she felt the need to point out again.
“Of course you’re not. I wouldn’t be friends with a princess unless she was a lot richer than you are.”
Stevie nodded. “Thanks, Kyle. That makes me feel so much better.”
The panda pulled up to a light, stopped, and let out a long sigh before looking back at her and asking, “Seriously?”
* * *
Berg Dunn was always amazed at how Charlie managed people, depending on who they were and how they fit into her life.
When she spoke to the head of Katzenhaus, Charlie was friendly and polite and often told Mary-Ellen Kozlowski exactly what she wanted to hear while doing exactly what Charlie actually wanted to do. And when confronted by the cat, Charlie didn’t slap her down or shoot her in the head, as she’d been known to do with those who put her sisters at risk.
But Charlie was always direct and honest when she dealt with Bayla Ben-Zeev of BPC. Berg had originally thought that was due to his relationship with Bayla and BPC, but no. It had nothing to do with him; Charlie just respected Bayla and she was always direct and honest with those she respected. They often didn’t agree, but both ladies were too smart to ever challenge each other. They were aware neither would come out of that particular confrontation alive.
Then there were the Van Holtz wolves. Charlie never smiled at them. Was never honest with them. And more than once, Berg was terrified she was going to throw Max at them. Literally. Just pick her sister up and chuck her at Niles Van Holtz because throwing honey badgers at a person is an excellent way to get someone’s face ripped off.
She just didn’t like them. And they were as nice and polite as they could possibly be. Berg didn’t know wolves could be so polite. Yet no matter how polite they were or the fact that Charlie was half wolf, it didn’t seem to change her lack of desire to make the leaders of the very powerful Pack her allies.
And he thought he knew why. Because Charlie didn’t trust them. Not yet anyway. And if Charlie didn’t trust you, she had no use for you.
Sadly, the Van Holtzes hadn’t realized any of that yet, so they didn’t see the problem with asking Charlie to spy on her own family. She might have little patience or respect for the MacKilligans, but they were still her family.
“Again,” Van Holtz cut in, his voice curt, “and for the sixty-thousandth time . . . we are not asking you to destroy your family.”
“Just kill them,” Max casually tossed in, forcing Berg to sit in a nearby chair and look out the big windows of the office so that he didn’t laugh in anyone’s face.
“No!” the wolf barked. “We do not want you to kill anyone. Especially women and children.”
“Hhhmmm” the sisters said in unison, shaking their heads.
“Yeah,” Max said. “That is not a good idea. To kill the men first and leave the women and children alive . . . because they will retaliate. Especially the . . . uh . . . cubs?”
“I thought it was pups,” Charlie said.
“Maybe it’s badgerlings . . . like ducklings?”
“Awwww. That’s cute.”
Van Holtz placed his elbows on his desk and buried his head in his hands.
“So, yeah. The badgerlings . . . yeah,” she said to her sister, “I like that too. The badgerlings are definitely something you want to wipe out real early in the process.”
Max’s phone vibrated and she looked down at it. “Excuse me a minute,” she said before standing and moving to the far side of the room.
Charlie stared at Van Holtz. “So does that work for you?”
“No!”
“No need to snap, White Fang.”
Van Holtz’s younger cousin quickly stood and moved in front of the desk, blocking his uncle’s now-gold wolf eyes from Charlie’s view.
“How about we just let this go?” he suggested. “We’ll deal with the Will MacKilligan thing on our own. How about that?”
Charlie shrugged. “That’s fine with me.”
“Great! I think that’s it then.”
“Okay.”
“Wait, there is one thing,” Van Holtz said, slapping his cousin’s hip until he moved off his desk. “I was wondering next time when you come, if you could bring your sister.”
Charlie pointed behind her. “She’s right there.”
“Your youngest sister.”
“Oh . . . uh-huh.”
Max suddenly appeared in front of Berg. She leaned in and whispered against his ear—and he was working really hard not to cringe away from her; she was just so close to a major artery that it was uncomfortable—“We need to go.”
“Okay. Why?”
“Just trust me. But if I say it to Charlie, she’ll panic. So can you do it?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Great.” She moved away from him—Thank God!—and toward the office door.
Berg could see Charlie again and she was nodding at whatever Van Holtz was saying, a halfway pleasant smile on her face.
With a shrug, Berg stood and went to her side, crouching down.
“I just think,” Van Holtz was saying, “that it would be great to meet her. I’ve heard so much about her.”
At a pause in the conversation, Berg leaned in and said, “It’s time to go.”
“Oh.” She looked at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. But we have another appointment.”
“Okay.” Charlie stood; the Van Holtz men stood with her.
She held out her hand and Van Holtz took it, giving a firm shake. He then tried to pull his hand back, but Charlie held it and tugged him forward a bit.
Gazing into his eyes, she said, “You stay the fuck away from my baby sister or I’ll find out where you live. Sneak into your house. And, while your wife is sleeping next to you, I’ll peel the skin off your body. And if you don’t believe me, ask the Peruvian drug lord who once kidnapped my sister. His wife never even knew I was there . . . and your wife won’t either. So . . . stay away from my baby sister, so I don’t have to make your wife weep.” She smiled. “Okay? Do we understand each other?”
Van Holtz didn’t answer, he just kept staring at her. So did his younger cousin.
“Great!” she said to his non-answer. “Speak to you guys soon.”
Charlie turned and followed Max out the door. Berg paused long enough to say, “Uh . . . ummmm . . . okay, bye.”