Bite Me
Page 2

 Shelly Laurenston

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I think the novelty of it won that award. You dont see a lot of knife fights break out at the funerals of hundred-and-eight-year-old women.
Jake glanced back at Toni again. I have to admit, shes gotten really cute.
Shes got a mate now.
Really? Too bad.
Why?
Mates complicate things.
Livy shrugged. Never did for my parents.
Now, now . . . He motioned to Livys mother and their aunt busy slapping each other like they were on an old episode of Dynasty. Clearly your mom is going through her own form of mourning over her mate.
Clearly.
Vic Barinov waited with his back to the wall. And while he waited, he thought about food. He was hungry.
Thankfully, he knew of at least two good steakhouses in this Albanian city. One catered to all shifters and the other specifically to bears. There were a lot of bears in Eastern Europe, some of the biggest in Ukraine and Siberia.
Unfortunately, Vic wouldnt be able to have something to eat until he got this done. And hed already been standing by this wall for the last three hours. But Vic had lots of patience. He could lie in wait for days, if necessary. Yet that sort of thing hadnt been necessary since hed stopped working for the U.S. government. Hed left suddenly, fed up with all the politics, but at the time, he wasnt sure what hed do with the rest of his life to ensure he could pay his bills, especially his food bill, which could be quite substantial.
Freelance work, however, had worked out better than he could have hoped. And being a crossbreedgrizzly bear and Siberian tigerhad, for once, been to his benefit. Plus his ability not only to speak eight different languages, including Russian, Polish, German, and Albanian, but to know and understand the culture of most of these nations, kept the money rolling in, and for the first time in a long time, Vic was beginning to feel his life had some stability. It was nice.
Ears twitching, Vic heard the sound of heavy panting. He lifted his head, sniffed the air. Scented the full-human running down the street toward him.
Vic waited until the panting was right beside him, then . . .
Reaching out, Vic caught hold of his targets neck and yanked him into the alley.
Feet still running, arms still pumping, his target hadnt even realized he was no longer touching the ground.
Vic held him like that until the local police charged past. Once he was sure they were gone, he lowered his target to the ground but kept hold of the mans neck. By now, the target had realized he was no longer running from the police. He briefly seemed relieved by that, until he was forced to drop his head back in order to see Vics face.
Oh . . . Victor.Hello.
There are people looking for you, Bohdan.
Dont hand me over to them, Victor, Bohdan begged while trying to twist out of Vics grasp. You know what theyll do to me.
I dont know anything. Except that people are looking for you.
Vic pushed away from the wall, Bohdan still in his hand.
Wait! Wait! I have information. Information youll want.
I dont need any information.
What about Whitlan?
Vic stopped moving, eyes narrowing on Bohdans desperate face. Lying to me wont help you, little man, Vic growled in Russian.
Im not lying.
No?
Bohdan pointed at Vics hand, which was still around Bohdans neck. Little tight.
And it can get much tighter. Dont make me show you how much.
Bohdans eyes widened in panic, which was kind of sad, because Vic really wasnt putting any effort into what he was doing. If he did, he could pulverize the bones in Bohdans neck. These full-humans . . . so breakable.
Talk, little man.
Packages sent in and out of country from Whitlan.
Vic frowned. How do you know they were from Whitlan? They could have been from anybody.
I saw him. I saw Frankie Whitlan.
Now Vic smirked. You? You saw Frankie Whitlan? A man no one has seen in more than two years?
No one has seen him in America, maybe. But he is friend to many in Russia, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria . . .
Is he a friend of yours?
No. But I was in warehouse that day. Big boxes he sent out. He wanted to make sure everything perfect. He sent them on boat.
Going where?
All over. But I know that at least one went to Miami.
And who helped him ship these boxes?
Now Bohdan smirked. I like my throat without big slash across it, Victor Barinov.
That was fair enough. Most likely Whitlan had gotten himself involved with mobsters whod tear someone like Bohdan apart for no other reason than they were bored.
Vic opened his hand and Bohdan dropped to the ground, landing on his knees with a grunt.
You wont regret this, Victor Barinov, Bohdan said, grinning widely and rubbing his throat. I knew I could help!
Vic stepped over Bohdan and walked out of the alley. He stopped at the curb, pulling his phone out of his pocket. While he speed-dialed a number, he saw a few of the local police running back toward the alley, still searching for Bohdan.