“Better to bake,” she told herself. “Always better to bake. Mass murder bad,” she reminded herself. “Baking good.”
With that bit of wisdom, she went back to what she loved.
*
“You need to calm down.”
“You brought them here?”
“What did you want me to do? She’s my niece.”
“Bring your niece. I don’t give a shit. But you brought all of them here.” Wolf pointed an accusing finger at his wife. “I smell cat, too.”
“Yes. There are tigers in your home. Malones, specifically.”
“Why don’t you just poison the entire pack?” Lot asked. His tone suggested reasoned thinking, but his words revealed what a nut he was. “Quick and easy. That way we don’t have to worry about watching our children being eaten by tigers.”
Trace gestured at the canine and asked CeCe, “Seriously?”
“When did I become responsible for Lot’s insanity?”
“When you married him!”
“A drunken night of irresponsibility that I immediately regretted.”
“That you have not dealt with in more than thirty years.”
CeCe sighed. “All that paperwork for a divorce. I’m an artist! Who has time for all that paperwork?”
Lot, who’d been sitting between his wife’s legs on the couch, looked back at her and said, “I love you, too, honey.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Steph tossed in. “They stay for a couple of days and then we get them out.”
“Unless Edgar comes.” Hel looked around the room. “Do we know if Edgar’s coming?”
“You males sound like panicked puppies,” Ox interjected. “If Edgar comes, I will deal with him.”
“No!” the entire group shouted at her.
“You’re not killing our brother,” Lot told Ox.
“What is this connection you boys have with each other?” Ox wanted to know. “When I was two, my sister tried to strangle me in the crib. I survived, and I’m stronger for it.”
“We do love these little amuse-bouche that you provide, Comrade,” Wolf snarled, “but they’re not particularly helpful.”
“Look, don’t worry,” Trace promised Wolf. “I’ve got this all under control.”
He almost believed her. She could tell. They’d known each other for over three decades, and she knew her husband. He was right there with the believing . . .
“Charlie?” a young honey badger called out from the foyer. Must be the younger MacKilligan sister. She had a bear and a cat with her as her protection detail. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen. I’m baking!” The two males began to head that way, but Stevie MacKilligan quickly stopped them, stretching both arms out to block them.
“Okay!” she continued to bellow from her spot in the foyer. “Well . . . when you have a chance, I need access to a freezer! I have samples to test and I don’t want anyone to be accidentally poisoned by this stuff!”
“Told you,” Lot snapped.
“No problem!” Charlie screamed back. “They have a bunch of freezers in this kitchen! Just give me a few minutes to see which one will work for you!”
“That’s great! Thanks, Charlie!”
“No problem!”
“Hey! Where’s Max?”
“With Streep! Upstairs!”
“Okay! Thanks!” Stevie looked at the bear and cat. “Go, go, go!” she quietly ordered, pointing. Then all three scrambled up the stairs and disappeared to the second floor.
The wolves again focused on Tracey, and she smiled and started to reassure them, but the nearly two-hundred-pound female dog that had been brought to the house for some reason—along with her very young puppies—appeared in the archway and began to bark at her. And bark. And bark. Demanding food, most likely.
Two male dogs came down the stairs and joined the female. Together, like a little team, they all barked and barked and barked.
“Princess!” Charlie MacKilligan called out from the kitchen. “Come here, girl! I have treats!”
That’s when the three dogs ran off . . . into her husband and his brothers’ pristine kitchen, where no one with fur was allowed for health-safety reasons.
While all three wolves now glowered at her, Tracey said, “See? Complete control . . . just like always.”
“Which is exactly what you said to Gorbachev,” Wolf reminded her. “And you were wrong then, too!”
Chapter 19
Stevie burst into the bedroom with Shen and Zé behind her to warn everyone, “Charlie’s baking . . . in a strange kitchen! We’re all going to die.”
“Not necessarily,” Max debated.
“I smelled brownies.”
“Dear God.” Max pressed her hand to her mouth. “We are all going to die.”
“I like Charlie’s brownies,” Mads admitted. Who didn’t love a good brownie?
“Brownies are her stress-bake,” Stevie explained. “If it were pies, cakes, even a torte, she could be just baking. But brownies? She’ll burn this house to the ground.”
Stevie stopped and smiled. “Ashley? Oh, my God, Ashley!” she cheered, nearly knocking her sister out of her chair to get to Streep’s girlfriend. The pair hugged and laughed.
“Stevie, girl! Cass told me you were back in the States. How was that spa in Switzerland?”
“It was more a mental health facility. And it was good for me.”
Ash leaned back to smile into Stevie’s face. “Did you take over the group sessions?”
“I had to. They didn’t know how to run those things. I always get to deeper shit when I jump in.”
“I have always said you should go back to school and get your psychiatry degree. Get your own shingle, girl! Then maybe you can explain to me why your sister never remembers who I am.”
“Charlie? She loves you!”
“Wait . . . even Charlie knows her?”
“Oh . . . Max,” Stevie sighed out.
*
Tock entered the massive house right behind Dani.
“Wow. This is really nice,” she said to Shay. He nodded, closing the door behind him. “I couldn’t live here, though.”
“Why not?”
“All these rooms?” she noted. “There could be attackers in every one, and I’d never know until they were coming at me with an axe.”
Dani turned to face her, eyes wide.
“Not here, though,” Tock quickly corrected. “It’s totally safe here. I promise.”
Shay sniffed the air. “My brothers are here . . . and wolves. Why are wolves here? Why would those badgers take us to a place with wolves?” He shook his head. “Keane is not going to stop complaining about that.”
“I need to check on Princess,” Dani said.
“You do not need to check on Princess. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“In nature, wolves and dogs don’t always get along, Daddy. She might be frightened.”
“Princess isn’t scared of anything. She’s not even afraid of your Uncle Keane.”
Dani lifted her head and took several sniffs. It was so cute! The kid trying to track down her dog by using her senses. When she hit puberty, those senses would overwhelm her a bit before she got full control of what she was seeing, smelling, hearing. But as a ten-year-old, she was probably just confused by all the scents bombarding her nose at the moment.