Chamomile blushed as she sat on the bed and listened to her men shower.  They were doing more than let soap and water caress their backs and crevices, of that she was sure.  Levi was sitting with his back to the door looking cross, though he would not interfere with the ritual of bonding.  How Babier managed to stay ready all the time, in all senses of the word, was beyond her.  

Truthfully, though, it was better than what normally befell men who gave into their lusts around her.  Babier had a nasty habit of making clubs of things and bashing folks until their arms, legs, and ribs broke.  The frequency this habit was acted upon seemed directly tied to how many men flirted or got handsy with the other women in the pride.  

Except Rocket, though that was because the guy was perfectly happy lusting over just about anything, be it male, female, animate or otherwise.  From the sounds of things, he was struggling to breathe as water sluiced between Babier’s abdominals and pooled at Rocket’s nose.  Someone was kneeling as, every once in awhile, she heard the telltale gasp for breath.  Someone was kneeling and it sure as anything wasn’t the king.

Likely, he was happy as a clam down there.  Rocket had been her rock when she’d been integrated into her first pride.  He’d stood by her and always done right by her, even when no one else even considered kindness or respect to be her due.  He’d listened and helped her fight the terrors and even stayed with her when Babier and his den had made their daring rescue attempt.

If she hadn’t cried and thrown herself to the ground, begging at the magnificent lion’s feet, Babier would have killed Rocket in the same visceral manner as all the rest had died.  Instead, he’d had him shackled and dragged to the base as a kind of transitional coping device for her.

She’d have warned her king about Rocket’s proclivities had she not feared these would have ended him.  And so it was that Rocket’s over-active imagination and Babier’s willingness to accept subservient gestures indicative of a kind of primal fealty had merged, bringing about these painful scenarios.  It worked out well:  Babier was not the least threatened, Rocket had sex at least six times per week, four with Babier and two with herself, she was able to choose which lover to physically love at any given moment, and Babier had her in his bed about four times per week.  It wasn’t anything near as intimate as what she shared with Rocket but the sex was fantastic and rigorous and left her feeling like she was floating.  

Sometimes, when Babier had a cue for affections, he’d call Rocket in and let her favored mate finish her off while he bedded Levi or Zinnie or whoever had decided to fight for a space in the small queen-sized bed.  Those nights could be a whole lot of fun, especially if Zinnie had one of her tantrums half-way through and stormed out.  Babier would watch the door she’d left through for a few moments before rolling her over and, after a few proprietary pumps, tolerating Rocket as he also gave a few exploratory probes from behind.  

It was divine.  She loved hearing them kiss above her, loved feeling the raw power in both forms, and loved that feeling of loving protection as each let her know, through the spreading of their auras, that they would keep her absolutely safe from harm.  Just thinking on the last time they’d shared space like that got her to stroking the sheets.  

Levi glanced up and smirked.  “He’ll be well taken care of tonight.  You’re welcome to him when I’m done.”

“It’s fine.  Take your time.”

“Aw, you’re so generous.  The bed’s gonna be crowded.  Fair warning.”

“I’ll make sure to turn on the AC.  Can’t have us all overheating or breathing each other’s air.”

“Sweet.  Maybe I’ll ask Dhalia or Rosetta to join us.  Make a night of it.”

“What a great idea!  And I’ll invite Benji.  With so much love going around, some of it’s bound to rub off on him!”

Levi’s scent changed and he looked away.  He hadn’t liked that idea even a little.  The man was paranoid about his twin, constantly worried that someone was making a sport of him or iminantly to do him some great wrong.  Benji was a part of the pride and a respected member -- he made pancakes, for crying out loud -- but the old fear had never quite left.

When Levi had been incorporated into the den, he’d been badly injured.  The regenerative properties of the moon had almost not been enough to save him and Benji had put a drip-feed of his own blood directly into his brother for weeks before there had been any noticeable sign of improvement.  All that while, Benji had been shackled in silver-lined iron and kept in a constant state of stress and fear.  Two years didn’t erase all that, she knew, though it was easier just to think of Levi as oversensitive.

“Hey, don’t look at me like I soured your milk.  I was just kidding, you know.”  Chamomile rose and walked to the front door, touching her palm to her wrist.  “Is she clean?”
In her ear, the soft voice of Dahlia trailed gently.  “Yeah, but not too clean.  She’s got his scent and a fair bit of nerves.  Doesn’t smell like he roughed her up any.”

“Odd.  If she owed him money, he’d have at least put her on the ground.”

“Unless she came that way.”  Chamomile heard Dahlia spit her derision.  With their band and especially with the harder ladies, weakness of that sort was tantamount to a sin.  “She wasn’t wearing pants, so I ain’t sure if her knees were courting dust bunnies.  Wouldn’t surprise me, though.  Did you hear her with Andy?”

“A little.  I don’t think he intended us to hear.  You know how he gets when he’s locked in with one of us.”

Silence for a few moments and then the sound of fabric shifting.  “Yeah, it might just be jitters.  We could use a lamb on a leash, if she’s up to it.”

“That’s a bit of an if.”  Despite her words, Chamomile knew her hope traveled through the line.  She was done being the softest and most vulnerable lioness in the pride.

...

Benji stood beside his king and kept his face expressionless.  It wasn’t that he felt nothing so much as that excessis of emotion seemed impractical.  He enjoyed the pride, was comfortable in the knowledge that they were capable, and knew his best hope for personal security lay in his willingness to show signs of loyalty and affection toward them.  The work asked of him was only fleetingly taxing and, every once in awhile, he wa granted leave to finish up in a manner that was more pleasing than practical.

Most importantly, though, it was a safe place for his brother.  That was something of significant value.  Presently, Levi was sulking, Rocket was only barely towel-dried, and his majesty was immaculately groomed with Chamomile and Rosetta more or less clinging to him and Zinnie doing her makeup in an abandoned storefront window.  Only Chaomile was touching Babier’s arm and he knew the ladies were both armed and on high alert.  

His king sighed and gestured slightly, summoning Benji close.  Babier wrapped an arm around the slender, gray-haired man and pulled him close while Benji tried with minimal success not to mince away from the contact.  It was ritual and expected that he would comply,  so he grit his teeth and lightly head-butted his king’s chest in affirmation of alegiance.

These displays were tiresome but tolerable, though in this case it was likely because Levi was being a pill.  Held close in a sustain, Babier spoke softly to those presently gathered, giving Benji a little squeeze as if in some extra bit of affection.  

“Her name is Kelly she’s carrying Andes’ piece.  From the sounds of it, he’s talked her into keeping it in a robe pocket but I don’t want anyone spooking her regardless.  If a gun goes off in this neighborhood, we’ll be swarmed with officers.”

Dhalia and Sasha strolled around the corner from downwind, clearly having timed their entrance.  Those two, Benji could understand.  They did not let things cloud their judgement.  He’d seen them walk away from helpless cases.  Hell, he’d seen them execute potential leaks if combat went sour and extraction proved untenable.  Dhalia expressed joy a fair bit of the time, though the times she’d shared her thoughts and her collections, even Benji had been wise enough to be worried.  He might like his darker subjects but even he had his limits.

Sasha spoke, as was common between the two.  “Zinnie, I need you on surveilance.  She’s new to the form and I don’t want her shifting to harmonize.  Rosetta, I’ll need you to cover the door from the outside.  Levi, Benji, you’ll be driving the silver SUV.  She’ll be sitting pretty.  Chamomile, do you think your up for playing the personal escort?”

All eyes turned to the watery little woman.  Benji watched her emotions boil up, outrage at the fact that she needed to be asked if she could handle such a simple task heating her to melting before all such resolve evaporated and she deflated, nodding and leaning closer to Rocket as though in dire need of comfort and reassurance.  

“Good.  Rocket, you Dhaliax and I will be ready to take the rooftop if the need arises.  Big Bad, you’re going to scare her just by walking into the room.  If you don’t mind, it might be best if you were formally introduced in a place with fewer witnesses.”

All eyes met hers in turn and the team headed out.  Benji failed to repress a shudder as Babier stroked down his hair before releasing the embrace.  He shook himself slightly as he stepped a little away and caught a sympathetic expression from his brother.  It was always astounding that Levi was so comfortable with casual contact.  

...

Penny flinched and glared up at her captor as the male set the hotel magazine down.  He sighed and looked at her for a long few seonds before slowly and clearly showing his empty hands.

“Breathing’s important.  Just figured I should let you know that the team’s coming up to meet you.  Probably best if you keep your hands out in the open.”

“The whole team?”  The implications were marvelous; if she could just hold them here for long enough, the police might not have to send her off on this fool’s errand after all.  She was a beat cop, not some sort of spy.  The chances that she was found for what she was were astronomically high if her backstory was probed in any great detail.

“Nah, just a few of the girls.  You’ll be heading in with Chamomile and the twins.  They’re pretty low key.”  He seemed to pause for a few moments before adding to his assessment.  “Levi’s considered a lioness, even though he’s got a mane.”

“What do you mean by that?”  Penny mentally went over her list again, not certain if she’d be able to remember it all.

“Uh, he’s… well, you’ll see.  Eventually.  Benji’s usually pretty quiet.  He’ll be teaching you how to shoot, like as not, and he’s a darn decent chef.  If you like to cook or something, he might even get chatty.”

“What’s a Chamomile?”

“Oh, that.  Most of the girls take new names when they join the pride.  Her given name was Christina, if I’m not mistaken.”

“And Benji is the alpha?”

“No, you’ll meet Big Bad once you’ve had a few days to settle in.  He can be a little intense and I get the feeling you’ve had about as many shocks as you can take by now.”

“So Levi and Benji are girls?  Wait, no, Levi’s in the process and Benji is a woman, right?”

“The twins are identical in all aesthetic ways.  In photographs, there’s no factoring them as aught but ghosts of each other, and your lioness will go a little crazy when she can’t see ‘em.  Don’t worry, though.  They act nothing alike.  Except on April first.”

Penny laughed.  It wasn’t that it was particularly funny -- she’d known a pair of gals who swapped sweaters as favors when one or the other wished to ditch a particular class or whatnot in middle school -- but the tension had been building for too long.  The pictures she’d seen in those files had been horrific.  It was one thing to look at a shooting victim or see a stabbing.  The ritualized slaughter of some cereal killers, though, was tame to the scenes of carnage this team had left behind.  Women, children, men, and pets were fair game.  She’d thought she’d be fine when she’d read the overviews in the office.  She’d even agreed after hearing the numbers involved.  Once she’d turned to the pictures, however; she’d steeled herself for the mass grave and the room coated in blood.  What she hadn’t been okay with had been the little boy and his dog.  

A knock on the door had her jamming her hand into the robe pocket and staring, wide eyed, at the sound.  Andy’s voice, soothing as anything, reached her through the fog of terror both of her minds were throwing up.  

“Hey, it’s okay.  It’s just Chamomile and Rosette.  Ease up there, little champ.”  Andy sounded soothing and relaxed, evoking images of sunning after a good meal with a herd nearby and grazing peacefully.  She was safe.  These intruders were just cubs, curious and looking to play.

His relaxed state helped to sooth the bestial manifestation of the disease, though it instantly caused her to tense up.  That part of her was wicked and cruel and wanted to eat and kill and maim and destroy.  It was violent and wanted the cities to cease existing, whereas she wished, quite fervently, to protect them.  Still, it was decidedly unfriendly to point a pistol at someone.  Her new mantra went off again.  I am Kelly Loghorn, my parents are Rebecca Loghorn and John Dover.  Kelly is afraid but wants a sense of family.  Family members do not shoot one another.  Taking a steadying breath, she replaced the gun in her pocket.  

She could always grab it later.

Andy tapped softly on the wall by the window and the sound of a magnetic key-card slipping in a few times, followed by a debate about which direction the stripe should be facing, and finally the sound of the lock catching filled the air.  Penny drew her bathrobe closer together, not in the least comfortable with how naked she was beneath the thick terry cloth.

The door opened on a pair of blondes, one tall but clearly skittish by nature and the other a little shorter, built like a gymnest in the least flattering sense of the term, and utterly gorgeous for the confidence she exuded.  It wasn’t that she bragged with her erect spine and rolled gait so much as that she seemed completely at ease with herself and with the world around her.

Unfortunately, it was the pusilaneous woman who drew near while the other remained by the door.  Her head twitched to the side as though something were bothering her and she glanced back over her shoulder as Andy rose.  “Should I go?”

Even her voice was timorous.  Penny instantly felt the ugliness within her dislike this soul, counting it for an unnecessary dependent.  She adjusted her robe defensively and glared at this woman, daring her to start shaking or cry or something.

Andy padded over to the door and paused for a moment.  “I’ve got somewhere I need to be.  You gals play nice, okay?  I’ll see y’all back home.”

Penny stared at the man’s back as he stepped cleanly through the door.  Gods, he moved magnificently.  The confident girl by the door stepped outside with him and she lowered her gaze back to the simpering one.  Awkwardly, she extended a hand.  “Hi, I’m Kelly.”

“Chamomile.  Sorry, I don’t usually come out alone like this.”

“Why?  Is something wrong?”

“Andes said you were a nice girl.  Sorry, he just said… and I’m trying to help out.  Sorry, I think I might be doing this wrong.  You seem really nice.”  Her plain, straight blonde locks fell down to cover her face.  Penny stared at the woman and wondered what she’d done to her.  Clearly, she acted as a wounded pup might when presented with its aggressor.

“O-oh,  yeah?  He seemed like a nice guy.”

“You’re not allowed to sleep with him.  Sorry, it’s just the rules.”

“I had no intention of --”

“I just, I appologize, I thought maybe you smelled like you liked him.  That’s all.  I’m sorry, sometimes I read things wrong.”  She was shaking.  Penny stared at the woman before her almost in horror.  The woman was absolutely miserable, looking nervous and trying to smile and flinching.

“That’s okay.  I don’t know how to control my scent yet.  Is, um, is everything okay?  Andy and the other girl seemed in a hurry to get gone.”

“Nothing.  They’re just, I’m sorry but I’m not supposed to talk about that stuff until you sign the non-disclosure contract. Sorry.  They’ll be alright, though.  They -- they’re good at what they do.”

Penny reached forward to touch the girl’s shoulder, not sure what else she should do.  The manuals and pamphlets she’d read on how to handle were-people had intimated that this was a horrifically bad idea, though she wasn’t certain what else to do with the moist soul before her.  To her wonder, the girl seemed to take strength from this, sitting significantly straighter and smiling broadly.

“Thank you.”

Somewhat unnerved but glad the girl was no longer acting so victimized, Penny leaned back and smiled at her.  “You’re welcome.  The, uh, the manual said that touching was a bad idea.”

“But you’re going to be family.  That’s okay, right?  I mean, I like you.  I don’t see why everyone else won’t like you.  Are you happy?  Sorry, I ramble sometimes.”  She was shaking again.  Penny sighed and put her hand back on the taller woman’s shoulder, keeping it there this time.  

“I don’t know what I am.  I hope so, though.”  She tried to comfort this woman, feeling utterly lost as she did.  “Are you happy?”

“Oh!  Yes, of course I’m happy!  I got to stay with Rocket!  He’s just the absolute best, even if everyone else always says he’s weird.  He’s not weird, though.  He’s just inquisitive.  And he gives the world’s best massages.  You should get one sometime!  They’re seriously great.”

Penny smiled faintly and looked toward the pulled blinds.  “I thought he was called Big Bad.”

“What?  No, Rocket is Babier’s plaything, except he’s really everyone’s plaything.  I don’t think he knows how to be serious when he’s not working.  We both stay in Babier’s bed at night, though.  I get nightmares otherwise and Rocket gets into mischief.”  Chamomile put her hand to her mouth, seeming startled that she’d said so much.  Penny smiled and gave her shoulder a little squeeze.

The girl made a small squeeky sound and seemed suddenly quite happy.  She rose from her chair and squeezed into the one Penny sat in, nestling in close.  “I’m so glad you’re going to be a part of the family.  I was worried you would be jaded like Sasha or Dhalia but you’re great!  Sorry.”  A fidget with some hair later, Chamomile resumed speaking.  “I’m really glad you’re not an enemy.  They were worried, I think.  The guy who sells you always pays his bills so it was really weird that he suggested we take you.  I mean, in the flesh trade you’re worth twice what he owed.  OH!  Sorry about that, you don’t need to think about that it’s okay I’m sorry!  I’ll make extra sure to tell the king to keep you.”

Penny awkwardly lifted an arm, allowing Chamomile to nestle in more comfortably, and sighed.  “So what’s the plan?  Is someone else going to come into the room and meet me in a half hour?”

“Oh, the plan went pear shaped.  They do that, sometimes.  Don’t worry, Benji and Kitten sound like they’re just cleaning up.  Sorry, we didn’t have a lot of time to plan on you arriving so everything’s very half baked.”  She paused for breath, then murmurred again into Penny’s arm.  “Sorry.”

“How do you know they’re cleaning up?”  Penny forced herself to stay in the present and tangible, not the potential and probable.  

“Sorry!  Sorry, I, uh, I’m not, oh I’m sorry!  I shouldn’t have said anything.  I appologize.”

“Okay, I understand.  I’m only a little bit part of the family.”  Pausing, she stared at the woman again.  “Are you, um, are you a, uh, a Thiriothrope?”

“It’s Ailouroeidísthrope if we’re getting all Greek with it.  And yes, I turn into a lion at night.”

“What, every night?”

“My aspect is of the New Moon and the Crescent that preceeds it.  Me and Zinnie both.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your better half.  The part that is real and can feel the Savanah and knows what it wants.  The lioness.”

“What about that?”

“Her.  What about her.  And you should know; what state to you feel most comfortable in?”

“I just wish it would go away.”

“Yeah, sure it sucks at first, but what do you sleep like at night?”

“I sleep as a human.”

“Can I see your ears?  I’m better at reading folks if I can see their ears.”

“What are you talking about?”  Penny touched her lobe gently.  “They’re right here.”

“No, I meant your fuzzy ones.”

“I can’t.  I don’t want… I can’t.”

“Then can I see her?  She smells beautiful.  Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.  It’s just, I mean, you’re family and I like you and I want to see what you look like, if you have pale golden or tawny or darker fur.”

“I don’t know.  I’ve only ever transformed the once when… when I did.  When he attacked me.”

“Wait, you’ve only once?  And you were revealed under the Warrior’s Moon, I’ll bet.  No wonder my king didn’t send Zinnie over!”

“What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say you were unstable.  It’s okay, right?  Sorry, we can show you… I’m amazed you’re still lucid.  How long have you had it?”

Three months, six days and nineteen hours.  “I dunno, it was an STI.  Somewhere between two and three months, I think.”

“Oh I’m so sorry!  That’s terrible!  Look, I’ll tell Big Bad that he has to take you in.  No one should undergo their first full change away from their den.  Do you know who gave it to you?”
“I used to travel alot.  For work.  You always thnk it could never happen right up until the moment it does.  And I don’t even have that moment.”  Pausing but unable to stop herself from asking, Penny pressed the nervous woman sharing her chair.  “What was it like?  That moment?”

“Oh, well I knew it was coming, so that was kinda neat.  I was what the pride called a loose end.  Sasha and Princess came to my house and sat me down at the kitchen table and explained that I was going to die and that I should put my affairs in order and leave a will.  I, uh, I asked for help and then, when it was all written, they asked if I wanted to do it myself or if they should do it.  I said I wanted to and they handed me a syringe and explained that, with such a big dose, there would be some blood.”  Chamomile shrugged and began wringing her hands together.  “I kept shifting for almost three days.  Those girls never once left my side.  It’s a shame about Princess, though.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Kinda.  Like, it hurt when I was afraid and nervous but then stopped hurting when I got a little more confident?  Sorry, it’s a little hard to explain.  The first time, it was hard to keep track of everything.  Maybe it hurt a whole lot and I blacked out, though.  Sorry, I’m not very helpful.  I mean, later, after I’d done it a few times, it felt great.  I mean, I’m not very good at it.  It’s nice, though, once you get comfortable with your own body.”

Penny smiled shyly, not sure how to ask anything more.  The words pulled from her lips and she blushed on them, not sure if she’d gone too far in asking.  “Can you show me?”

“I mean, if you’d like me to, that’s alright.”  She paused, holding still as she rubbed at her wrist a little more.  “Actually, we had better wait until we get home.  Then we can try it together.”

“What if I hurt someone?  I… I never want to be like that again.”  Penny recalled that night in the hospital.  She’d been restrained and locked in a room.  Thank heavens the door hadn’t failed as the restraints had been far from adequate.  She’d more or less come back to herself with jangled memories and a mangled room.  The counsellors had made a point to show her all the damage and what remained of the surveilance video, pointing out that this had been a safe environment and, next time, she might not be so lucky.

“Um, it’s okay.  I mean, I aggressed on Andes until I got sleepy and then I woke up in bed with Babier.  He didn’t, like, do anything untoward or anything.  I thought it was because he thought I was ugly but the girls said his lion just needed to get used to my scent.  He was more aggitated, I think?  Sorry, I was, um, I mean, I just.  Sorry.  I don’t know too much about it.  Nothing happened, though.  He never does anything for the first few months.  Sorry.  Sorry, I mean, I know Rosette and Zinnie are perfect and he didn’t let them do the thing until they were really comfortable.  But we all sleep next to him when we’re nervous.”

Penny tried to comfort the woman next to her, not sure what was causing this nervous breakdown.  “Do you need some water, sweetie?”

“Oh, um, I guess so.  I’m sorry, I should get it.  Sorry, I’m really terrible at this.”  She slunk forward, her baggy, seafoam green and black striped T-shirt rustling more loudly than it should have.  The realization that Chamomile was deliberately hiding in her clothing struck Penny sharply and she wondered just what had been done to so damage the poor dear.  There was no excuse for this and she resolved to take Big Bad and all his men down herself.

A sound at the door brought her hand to the gun in her pocket again, though she stilled the impulse.  Andy had been right; pointing a gun at folks was no way to earn their trust.

...

Kitten sighed and started the engine.  Behind her, Benji and Andes swore as the exhaust tainted the air, though there was no particular heat to the expletives.  The pair were more relaxed around her, treating her much as a much younger sister with a bit too much enthusiasm might be treated.  She felt the van shift as a large black canvas bag was loaded into the cargo storage.

The camp was pulling up and heading out, which meant the three of them had been left to deal with this particular loose end.  As inert bodies could be difficult to transport, this particular fellow was bound and gagged and mostly unconscious.  He’d be roused when it came time to dispose of him and brought somewhere out of the way.  She never handled those final details, though she didn’t pity the guy.  He’d been a pimp in the worst fashion of the word and she’d developed a more-than-healthy contempt for the guy in just the few moments she’d met him.

Andes gave her a little salute as he passed by the front window and crossed over a few blocks while Benji double-checked a few last details and piled into the side of the car.  While the vehicle could comfortably fit six and uncomfortably seat eight, with the back seats sunk into the floor it was best to keep it to the four and the bit of baggage.

Dropping to low gear, Kitten pulled out of the alleyway slowly and headed down the road to the edge of an out-of-session fencing school parking lot and waited as Benji slipped out the side door and switched out the license plates, drawing in a few distinctive scratches with a fine point sharpie.  The SUV was pretty darn close to pristine but folks remembered things like scratches and small breaks.  There had been none during the event, so now a few were made.  It would be odd if they were not mentioned in the initial report.

Truthfully, they had twelve registered vehicles with plates to choose from and only three SUV’s.  The system had, so far, worked flawlessly.  It was the hope of all that this would continue, though there were dozens of contingency plans in the off event that they were pulled over or incarcerated.

Benji climbed back in and pulled a dog-hair roller from its place under the seat, checking that the magnet he’d glued to it was still firmly in place.  He clicked his belt and carefully ran the sticky paper over his shirt, jacket, and jeans while Kitten pulled out and headed to the hotel.  It had been a nightmare of a day, it really had.  She’d hoped the team would be awarded bonuses for exemplary service.  This new girl, however, precluded any such wishful thinking.  

From the way Andes and now Chamomile were going on about her, it was likely that Big Bad would let his hormones make the decision about whether or not to keep her.  While not entirely ineffective, her boss’s instincts were not always fiscally sound.  Granted, they were, as a whole, very well of at present.  Heck, if their natures permitted it, every last member of the pride could likely retire and live out their days with only a passing nod to frugallity.  They did not need to know that, however.  The only financial information needed by the pride was that they were financially stable.  This kept them amenable to accepting jobs, which meant the population of truly war-mongering thiriothropes was kept in check.

She drove slowly while they approached the hotel, allowing Benji a chance to check vitals and verify that the man in the duffle was still insensate.  Finally, they pulled up and Chamomile opened the second story door, holding it open while Kelly stepped out in her bathrobe.  If there had been time, she’d have gone out and procured a suitable outfit.  Instead, someone in the warehouse had lived long enough to put out an alert, making the mop-up phase ten times harder than it should have been.

Of course, they were doing this job at a ten-percent discount, so, really, it would have suited her just fine to let the greater mischief flee to their little hidy holes.  Big Bad had a reputation to maintain, so the extra effort was necessary, it just didn’t feel as necessary as it usually did.  She waited while Benji got out and waited politely for Kelly and Chamomile to choose their places.  Clearly seeing Kelly’s beleagured expression, he held the front passenger door for Chamomile and closed it firmly behind her as she buckled in.  He then climbed into the back and waited while Kelly decided if she really did want to get in the van or not.

Regardless of her decission, she would be coming with us.  The difference between her willingly taking a seat or making a go at escape, however, was encapsulated in a little syrninge full of synthetic encouragement.  Selling her into a life in a cage for the amusement of a certain wealthy patron was still very much an option.

Wisely, she ascended the rise into the van and took her seat, pressing the button to close the door as she noted that Benji wore a seat-belt and donned one herself.  Kitten sighed and drove through the city, taking her time and stopping at a local drive-thru.  Without asking, she got everyone cheeseburgers with fries and a soda, passing these out as she herself enjoyed the tidy repast.  Chamomile, true to form, ate most of her meal quickly and lingered over the last few bites as though afraid they would be the last she’d get a chance to enjoy for awhile.  She then returned to looking out the window at the scrubby trees as they flitted by.

Kitten glanced in the rear-view mirror, noting that the new girl had forgone her meal and had tried to hand it off to Benji.  The slight-boned, pale featured male was waiting for her to change her mind and ask for the meal back, though the way he eyed the food indicated he was calculating the risk of repudiation against the immediate gratification of eating a second cheeseburger.

The miles began to grow long as three turned to six in the afternoon.  The I-5 faded along, the curvy roads not particularly interesting as she zipped past a few of the more cautious drivers.  Behind her, she heard Benji open the second box of fries and eat them.  Another glance revealed he did so with the box between himself and the new girl, clearly trying to indicate that he only took them because cold fries were inherently inferior to their warm counterparts.

It didn’t seem to matter, however.  Kitten eased past a sign that indicated that Downtown Redding was to be found after three more exits and tapped the steering wheel.  She’d checked all the local radio stations and didn’t like any of them.  Anyone else sitting shotgun would have put something on anyway, but Chamomile was all about asking perission for everything.  Moments like this, she wished the team didn’t have a fast rule against computers, phones, bluetooth or anything else that could be abandoned or lost.  

Had she the option, she’d have uploaded some Daft Punk into her playlist.  Instead, it was a choice between classic rock, christian rock, country music, or Benji fiddling with a the zipper on his jacket.  The last had won out, though Kitten was glad they were fast approaching the RV campground.  Three SUV’s, three RV’s, and four motorbikes.  These last were, by now, stowed in a trailer hitched up to the black SUV, so no one had to ride those around.  

Everyone had a state license, be it this or some other state.  When identities were compromised, that was usually one of the first concerns.  Everyone had to be able to pass for normal.  Discarded shell casings had to be generic stock, nothing custom and difficult to track.  Purchased in cash at gun shows was best, though some pawn shops had a ready supply.  Guns, likewise, were purchased in as mundane a form as possible.  Phones were strictly accounted for, as was contact with individuals from before joining the pride.

Kitten glanced back again and noted that Kelly had fallen asleep and was drooling on Benji’s arm.  The sociopath hadn’t noticed the drool yet, instead focussing his attention on the passing mountains, cliffs, and scrub.  Magnolia trees dotted the hillsides and revealed the stark heat of this far-northern corner.  Everywhere else might be relatively cool.  Here, though, here the temperatures skyrocketed weekly.

As she turned a bend, the sign indicating that their designated campsite was just two miles away.  Kitten slowed her pace, cracking her knuckles as she drove a bit more jerkily to awaken all.  Benji glanced around, yawned magnificently, and noticed the spreading pile of drool.  He pushed Kelly off lightly and balanced her still-sleeping form on the far armrest while he pulled off the jacket.  Keeping her eyes mostly on the road, Kitten hid her smirk.

Pulling off the highway brought everyone around again.  She drove carefully and spotted campground number twenty-seven and eased into the parking spot behind the RV.  Rosetta came out and lightly gripped her wrist, concentrating on not moving her lips as she relayed their arrival to everyone.  Kitten heard the voice in her ear and smiled faintly at the call of peace and the last concern falling smoothly into place.

“Looks like even the valkyries have come home.”

Next Chapter: Drama