Badlands: The Lion's Den (5 page)

“The couch is too small for you,” she protested. “I’ll sleep there.”

“Nope. Bed’s more comfortable, so you sleep there.”

“I will take the couch,” she insisted.

He walked over, flopped down on the couch, and lay down on it lengthwise. “No room,” he said.

“Fine, you win. Tonight, anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow as he rested his feet on the arm of the couch. “You’re welcome to arm-wrestle me for it, but I fight dirty,” he assured her.

“Well, then, the couch is all yours,” she said, heading to his bedroom and trying not to think about how very tempting that dirty wrestling match sounded.

Flora woke with a start. She’d tossed and turned most of the night and finally fallen into a fitful sleep as the sky lightened outside the small, cracked bedroom window.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and then sat bolt upright.

She’d slept late; it was 11:30 a.m. She needed to be downstairs at noon, to meet up with Blair.

She hurried into the living room. Finn was gone. There was a necklace with an “H” on the table, next to a hand-written note, and several dresses draped across a chair. “Good morning, gorgeous. Wear your mark. The dresses are for you – I had a friend drop them off for me. Help yourself to breakfast. Don’t leave the territory. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

She showered quickly, dressed, and gulped down cereal and fruit. The dress fit her perfectly; it was black with pink flowers, made of some clingy rayon material. It was somewhat modest in that the hem skimmed her calves, and the scooped neckline barely revealed any cleavage, but it hugged her curves in a most revealing fashion. The Wilkinsons had urged Flora to dress in billows of fabric that hid her body like a giant potato sack.

Flora walked downstairs, absentmindedly running her hands over the soft fabric. The appreciative glances that she received from the few people on the club’s floor surprised her.

Blair was waiting for her. The play area didn’t open until evening, but the bar side was open for lunch. Fortunately, business was slow at that time of day. Flora would be bussing tables, sweeping the floor, and wiping down the bar, and she’d get a percentage of tips. Blair gave her a week’s pay in advance, telling her that Finn had insisted.

“Have you heard anything from Krystle?” she asked Blair.

“Nah, but when she’s travelling she doesn’t check in,” Blair said. “If I see her or hear from her, I’ll let her know that you’re looking. You could ask Jose, too. He’s got kind of a thing with her.” And she headed back behind the bar.

Flora took her tray of cleaning supplies and started wiping down tables. She’d try to get a break in a few hours so she could go to a grocery store and buy Starweed for Madison, she decided.

She tried not to worry about Krystle travelling around this dangerous area, since nobody else seemed to be worried. She hadn’t seen her cousin in six years, but even back then, Krystle had been a tough-talking, foul-mouthed juvenile delinquent who was more than capable of holding her own.

As Flora sprayed down a tabletop, a slender female lion shifter strolled up to her, her stride stiff and angry. Jennifer. The waitress who’d loudly asked if she and Finn were going to do a scene together.

Jennifer stood there for a minute with her hands on her hips, just staring at Flora and not saying anything.

Finally, Flora cleared her throat. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

“So,” Jennifer said, with a sharp bite to her voice. “The other day you said you weren’t with Finn. Looks like you lied.”

“I didn’t lie,” Flora said, offended. “Things changed. It’s complicated.” Very complicated. She’d lain there in bed all night alternately wondering why Finn didn’t want to sleep with her and reminding herself that it wasn’t even a real relationship. Finn had literally only claimed her to keep her from being kidnapped.

“Did you two know each other before Finn came to the Badlands?” Jennifer asked, standing there with her arms folded. “Because if not, that’s a pretty fast courtship.”

“And?”

“Just looking out for a friend. Finn is a great guy. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” Jennifer’s mouth curled in an ugly smile and she stepped in front of Flora, blocking her path. “If anyone hurt Finn, I’d have to hurt that person.” She held up her hand and extended all her claws. “Fatally. It would probably be safer for you to walk away now while you still can. Not like you fit in here anyway.”

Flora was starting to get sick of Jennifer’s attitude.

“So now you’re Finn’s babysitter?” Flora said. She felt her lynx growing angry and restless. Fur rippled on the backs of her hands. “He strikes me as the kind of guy who can look out for himself.”

Jennifer sucked in a sharp, angry breath, but before she could say anything, Blair walked over. She was a tall, muscular woman with shiny brown hair pulled back into a bun. Finn had told Flora that she was ex-military, like him.

“What’s going on here?” Blair asked.

“I want to pick up some extra hours.” Jennifer took a step forward, forcing Flora to take a step back. She stumbled against a table, which made Jennifer’s lips curl in that ugly smile again.

“Then go clean the play area,” Blair said coldly.

“No, I’m going to wipe up right here,” Jennifer said, snatching the cleaning rag out of Flora’s hand.

Blair’s fangs descended, and she spoke with a hint of growl rumbling in her throat. “You can go get your own cloth and clean where I tell you, or you can find another job. And don’t ever talk to me like that again.”

“Finn won’t let you fire me!” Jennifer’s eyes glittered with angry tears.

“Finn’s not the owner. And he wouldn’t tolerate you treating any of the managers with disrespect.” Blair stared straight at Jennifer, who, being less dominant, dropped her gaze and muttered, “Fine.” Then, as she walked off, Flora heard Jennifer mutter “bitch” under her breath.

“You’re suspended for the day!” Blair yelled after her.

Jennifer stomped out the front door without looking back, and let the door slam shut.

What was the deal with Finn and Jennifer? Flora wondered. Bitter ex? Why hadn’t Finn said anything about her?

Blair had already headed back to the bar, so Flora shrugged and resumed cleaning.

Finn stopped by mid-afternoon, and took Flora to a small restaurant called the Blue Monkey. It was a couple of blocks from the Lion’s Den, and there were tables set up outdoors.

The tables had doily tablecloths, and were decorated with potted plants and candles. A waitress quickly brought them coffee and menus, and Finn ordered hamburgers for them both.

“Oh, coffee, how I love thee,” Flora said to her coffee cup, and then took a long sip. She let out a low purr of satisfaction. “Maxwell House. My favorite.”

“Should I leave you and Maxwell alone?” Finn said with a grin. “Unless you want me to just stay here and watch. Some girls like that kind of thing.”

She took another sip and set the cup down. “You’re good. You just need to understand that Maxwell has been bringing deep, dark satisfaction to my mornings for many years now, and nobody will ever come between us.”

“Wow. I never thought I’d be jealous of a coffee cup.” He pretended to look hurt.

She leaned back in her chair and looked at the merchants sweeping the sidewalks in front of their shops and the customers walking out of the grocery store next door with armloads of bags.

“Wow, this almost feels normal,” Flora mused, dipping a French fry into a small pool of ketchup. “Except for the constant fear of death…and the lack of any cubs. No cubs anywhere. I just realized that.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad here,” Finn said. “We have enough muscle patrolling the streets to keep the murder rate relatively low, for everyone who pays their protection money, anyway.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Of course. Murder’s bad for business. Dead customers can’t shop at our stores or pay protection money.”

They fell silent, and she chewed her roast beef and watched the street for anything or anyone who might want to kill her. She did feel safer with Finn there, but she had a feeling it was a bad idea to relax too much in Darwin. Ever.

She realized that he was staring at her quizzically.

“No, I’m not going to tell you why I came to the Badlands,” she said.

“Suit yourself, Woman of Mystery.”

“I like that.” She nodded approvingly. “Makes me sound sexy, like some kind of spy or something.”

“You are sexy. Spy or not.” He stared into her eyes, and desire flooded her body. “You’d be just as sexy if you told me what you’re running from. Even sexier, really, if that’s possible.”

“Nice try,” Flora said. “You get an A-plus in the flirting department. Not to change the subject, but why are there no cubs here?”

“You are changing the subject,” Finn said. “Considerably.”

“So are you. Seriously, why no kids? Do you guys eat your young or something?”

Finn choked with laughter, and she looked down at her hamburger suspiciously, then back up at him. She set the burger down and pushed it away. “You don’t, do you? Say something. You’re freaking me out.”

“No, you crazy feline, we do not eat children. That burger came from a cow. This just isn’t a place for families. Nobody who wanted children would come here. If someone decides they want a family, they leave. Why? You have kids? Thinking of settling down here?”

She looked at him, startled. “Me? Kids? If I had cubs, they would be with me. No. I’m not having any kids.”

She saw Finn’s forehead wrinkle at the way she said it, and regretted that she’d said anything at all. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have children; it was that, given the risk, she wouldn’t have them. Not when she knew they’d be taken from her and used for heaven knew what.

“So there are literally no children anywhere in the Badlands?” she said.

“No, that’s just in Darwin. You’ve landed smack in the middle of outlaw central here. There’s a city called Cottonwood, about a hundred miles from here. It’s where families go. It’s ruled by a guy they call the Chief. He keeps things pretty law-and-order there. And scattered around the state are more tribes and packs and prides than you can count, and they all carve out their own territories and have their own rules. That’s why you wouldn’t want to travel here without an experienced guide.” He looked contemplative. “And a death-wish.”

Cottonwood. That sounded like a better bet for Madison and her friends. Did they know about it? They must, Flora thought. Maybe they hadn’t gone there because it was too dangerous to travel?

The wind extinguished the candle on their table, and Flora scowled at the wick and concentrated.
Burn
, she thought.

Nothing.

She glared at it, her brows drawing together.

Could the scientists have been wrong?

“Did that candle do something to piss you off?” Finn asked, and she looked up, startled. “Forget to say ‘excuse me’ after it burped or something?”

She snorted. “Are you mocking me because I’m polite?”

“A little bit, yeah.” He grinned at her and fed her a French fry. “Eat more. I like women with a little meat on their bones.”

She chewed and swallowed, then favored him with a smile. “No, the candle did not get on my bad side. It was just some bad memories.”

Finn gave a rueful smile. “I know plenty about those,” he said.

They sat in silence as the waitress came out and refilled their coffee.

“I talked to a bear female a little yesterday,” Flora said, stirring in sugar. “When I was over by the border of Ruben’s territory.”

He glanced up at her sharply, his smile replaced by a look of grave concern. “You need to be careful,” he said. “Don’t go so close to bear territory again. I told you, Ruben’s been spoiling for a fight recently.”

“Some of the bears seem nice enough. It sounds like things are pretty rough over there,” she said. “Can’t you guys do anything to help them?”

“We have our hands full dealing with our side of town. It’ll work itself out without us.” Finn shrugged. “Ruben’s a bad leader, and he’s making a lot of enemies among his own people. Sooner or later, he’ll be overthrown.”

“But in the meantime, people are suffering.” Her tone was heated.

He shook his head chidingly. “Flora. People come to the Badlands by choice. Anyone who doesn’t like it can leave and go back to their safe, normal life in the outside world. All they have to do is sit in a detention center with a bunch of government nannies staring at them for thirty days.”

Shifters who left the Badlands were stopped by the border guards and taken to a Council for Shifter Affairs facility, which was basically like a prison camp where they had to remain under observation for thirty days before they could return to living in society. That was done to ensure that they weren’t feral.

“It’s not that easy for everyone,” she said. Someone like Madison, having been betrayed by the system, by an actual judge, would never turn herself over to a government agency.

And it wouldn’t be any easier for Flora to leave. There would be people looking for her if she did. What she’d been threatened with back in California had made the dangers in the Badlands seem trivial. Even death would be preferable to what she’d faced on the other side of that border.

Finn shrugged. “Life’s not fair, Flora. And when you try to make it fair…” His eyes turned dark and his expression went stormy. After a long moment, he picked up his burger and began devouring it with big, savage bites.

“Why doesn’t everyone move to Cottonwood?” Flora wondered. “It sounds much safer there.”

“It is, but not everyone is looking for safety. Living in Cottonwood’s almost like living outside the Badlands. Rules and regulations, law and order. A lot of us came to the Badlands to escape that kind of life.”