Livy snorted at that—since her uncle was right—and reached for the glass of vodka he’d poured for her. She didn’t drink, just held it in her hand.
Her uncle Bart, however, downed his in one gulp, and poured himself another. “Now, this is what we have planned so far . . . me and your uncles, we stay here. So will Jake and Jocelyn, since you like them.”
“Aunt Teddy?”
“She likes Ritz Hotel, so she will stay there.”
“The Ritz is letting her back in?”
“Jake has given her new identity so that will not be problem.”
“Unless the staff remembers her . . . and something tells me they will.”
“Not our problem.”
Livy agreed. It wasn’t as if her aunt didn’t know how to take care of herself.
“You know,” Livy felt the need to point out, “it won’t be easy finding Frankie Whitlan. The BPC, KZS, and The Group have all tried and failed.”
Bart stared at her. “Who?”
“The bears, the cats, and the rest of ’em.”
“Oh, them. That is because they all have their rules. Honey badgers . . . we have no rules. We will find this Whitlan . . . and we will find anyone who helped him.” He finished off another shot of vodka and poured one more. “You do know, little Olivia, that your father never trusted full-humans. Ever.”
“I know.”
“He only met with them face-to-face when one or all of us, his brothers, could go with him. He said full-humans were traitors to their own, so how could they not be traitors to us?”
“He used to tell me that when I was still in the high chair.”
“And he was right, which is why I know truth.”
“Truth? What truth?”
“Shot in drive-by, thrown out window, found castrated behind strip joint . . .” Bart shrugged. “We would bury Damon’s body again and go about our day. But killed like this . . . hunted . . . like this? That would never have happened to your father.”
Livy leaned back in her chair. “What are you saying?”
“I think it was shifter. Shifter lured your father . . . then human killed him.”
“We don’t know that, Uncle Bart. And I don’t want us distracted.”
“Distracted?”
“We are out for Whitlan. And only Whitlan.”
“Someone is hiding him. Helping him.”
“And they’ll suffer. But this isn’t an excuse for the Kowalskis to go on a killing spree. You guys get the information, and we get Whitlan. If, and only if, someone tries to stop us from getting Whitlan, then they pay the price. Understand me?”
Bart smirked, nodded. “Strong-willed. Like your father. You would have made great boss.”
Livy didn’t reply to the compliment. Instead, she looked out the window in time to see Melly screaming, “I will track you down! I will track you down and make you love me!”
“Don’t worry, little Olivia,” Bart said, patting her hand. “I make sure your aunt Teddy takes little Melly with her.”
Livy smiled at her uncle Bart. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 20
It was decided over many more glasses of vodka that Livy would go back to work. She would continue on with her daily routine because her uncles didn’t think it was a good idea to involve her in the hell-making of other people’s lives. Although what it really came down to was her family wasn’t sure that Livy’s artistic sensibilities wouldn’t suddenly come into play at the worst time possible. They insisted it wasn’t a lack of trust so much as her not understanding how the Kowalskis liked to do things. Livy, however, understood better than most. It was hard not to when one had grown up with her father.
Still, she didn’t argue the point. Arm twisting wasn’t really her thing. She didn’t enjoy hearing people in pain. She didn’t enjoy making people cry . . . usually. So Livy would happily go back to her day job and let her family do what they had to do.
But what her uncles needed right now was someplace to start. So she led them upstairs and searched the multiple rooms for Vic or Shen.
She found Shen first. Asleep faceup on a bare mattress in one of the small rooms, the giant panda’s body was stretched out across a twin bed, his head and arms hanging over the side, And there was snoring.
“Like giant stuffed toy,” Otto muttered.
Deciding not to wake him up, Livy continued searching. She finally found Vic in one of the bigger rooms, making up the bed.
Livy watched him for a moment. Hospital corners. He was making hospital corners with the sheet. Livy, a known sleep-twister, didn’t bother going to all that trouble with her own sheets.
Shaking her head, she said, “Hey, Vic—”
“Hey.” He was busy smoothing out the sheets, so he didn’t turn around immediately. “I was going to put us in the master bedroom, but Kyle already had it and he’s already turned it into some kind of terrifying art studio. Just FYI, that kid has bones in there. I didn’t look too closely so I don’t know if they’re human or not, but you may want to have Cooper look into that. Anyway, I grabbed this room since it had a king and a bathroom attached, but if there’s another room you want us in, just let me know and”—Vic finally stood and turned—“I’ll make sure to put . . . you in there all by yourself,” he finished, spotting her uncles standing around Livy. “Because you sleep alone. Yes, you do. Alone is how you sleep.”
Vic cleared his throat, nodded at her uncles. “Gentlemen.”
“Vic, these are my uncles.” She pointed at each one. “Baltazar, Kamil, Gustav, Edmund, Otto, and David. Uncles, this is Victor Barinov.”
“Barinov?” Otto asked, frowning a little.
“Yes.”
“You have information for us?” Balt asked Vic.
“Uh, yes.” He grabbed a folder off the nightstand. “Here’s what we’ve pulled together so far. Do you want me to go over it with you?” Vic asked as he handed the info to Balt.
“I can read,” Balt snarled, snatching the folder.
“I wasn’t suggesting—”
“We will talk later, Olivia,” Balt said before he and the rest of her uncles walked away.
Once they were gone, Vic sat down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“They hate me,” Vic said. “Couldn’t you tell how much they hate me?”
“They don’t hate you,” Livy told him, closing the door and walking over to the bed. “They hate your father. And I think they all have a thing for your mother.”
Vic’s head slowly came up. “My father?”
“He’s helped INTERPOL prevent several Kowalski jobs over the years. And helped to put away a few of my uncles’ cousins.”
“Oh.” Vic thought about it a moment, then said, “Yeah. That does make it awkward, doesn’t it?”
Livy chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, your parents are badass if they’ve got my uncles worried.”
Vic grinned. “My parents are kind of badass. Of course, they both come from two families of badasses. Stalin actively avoided my great-grandfather. And my mother’s mother was one of the most feared snipers in the Red Army. The Germans called her der Schrecken.”
And together they said, “The Nightmare.”
“Was she really that bad?” Livy asked.
“Oh yeah. She was a Siberian She-tiger with amazing aim. As soon as those guys turned around, they’d get picked off from behind. Then at night, she’d shift to her tiger form and . . .”
“Get a little snack?”
Vic grimaced. “It was a long Russian winter, and food was scarce. She did what she had to do, I guess.” Vic shrugged. “I liked her, though. She made the best cookies.” He let out a breath. “I hope I didn’t make things weird for you and your uncles.”