Mitch tried to sit in the booth, but that would mean Bo would have to get out of his way. With Blayne on his lap, Bo didn’t seem inclined to bother.

“Could you move?” Mitch asked.

“I could . . . but I won’t.”

Rolling his eyes, Mitch grabbed a chair from one of the other tables and slammed it down in front of them. “There are honey badgers here,” he announced.

“I thought you liked Livy,” Blayne said, sipping her sugar-free Mountain Dew.

“Not just Livy. There’s a bunch of them now.”

Gwen lifted her head a bit. Nodded. “And one of them is heading for the stage.”

“But I was enjoying the wild dog version of ‘The Safety Dance.’ ”

Bo shook his head at Blayne. “No, you weren’t. Please don’t lie.”

“I was trying to enjoy it. Okay? Happy now?” She crinkled up her nose a bit. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a song that a honey badger would sing, though.”

“Why not?”

“One time at the Sports Center I saw Livy sitting on the floor, wearing earbuds. I asked her what she was listening to. Turns out it was the Lords of Acid. Tech music with a lot of singing about fucking, which I’m fine with. But what freaked me out was that she was just sitting there. Like she was meditating. Who listens to dance music that talks about fucking and doesn’t move?”

“A honey badger who coldly and brutally crushed the kneecap of a She-lion who pissed her off?” Lock asked.

The male honey badger got on stage. He’d already chosen a song, and it began to play. But when he started to sing without even looking at the words on the screen, Blayne didn’t know if she should be charmed or completely and utterly freaked the fuck out.

“‘The Piña Colada Song?’ ” Mitch asked them, flabbergasted. “Honey badgers like ‘The Piña Colada Song’?”

“No,” Gwen observed, her gaze moving over the crowd. “They love it.”

Obviously, since they’d all moved to the stage to sing along, some raising lighters in the air, others just their arms. They waved and they sang.

But when Livy got up on the stage with that badger, put her arm around his shoulders, and sang along with him, Blayne was sure about one thing . . .

“The world’s about to end!” she announced cheerfully, certain that if the Rapture was coming, she’d done enough good in her life to ensure her passage to Paradise. “Because I’m sure this is a sign of the End of Days.”

Mitch stared at Blayne for a good minute before he agreed, “It’s ‘The Piña Colada Song.’ And honey badgers. It just doesn’t seem right, does it?”

Livy sat back down beside Vic. “ ‘ThePiña Colada Song’?” he asked.

“It’s a family favorite. Played at all Kowalski weddings, along with every polka song you can think of.”

Vic scratched his head, stared at Livy, until he finally asked, “Polka?”

It was enough of a shock that the karaoke machine actually had polka music on it. But it was even more startling to see Livy up on the stage with Jake and Jocelyn, singing along . . . in Polish.

Vic had thought he knew Livy . . . but he didn’t know her at all. She was, however, fascinating.

Freaky, yes. But fascinating.

“You need to make this stop.”

Vic looked up to see Novikov standing over him.

“Come on,” Vic said. “I know the Novikov name. You’re Russian like I am, and we have polka, too.”

“I’m half-Russian and half-Mongolian, but that’s not the point. Blayne likes the polka music. She now wants it at our wedding. So we can dance to it. Dance to polka. Me.”

“I’m sure your Cossack ancestors would happily dance to polka music at their weddings. You should feel honored. It’s probably a family tradition.”

“It is not a family tradition.”

Vic snorted. “It is now.”

The pair sized each other up until Novikov asked, “Why don’t I want to kill you right now?”

“Remember that song the wild dog sang a few minutes ago?”

“ ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’?”

“That’s the one. Your lion’s asleep.”

“Pardon?”

“You had a couple of drinks, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The feline part of you is out cold, numbed by the alcohol and lack of danger. I had a couple of vodka shots, so my tiger is out for the night. My grizzly, however, is up and ready to party.” Vic grinned. “Wanna dance?”

“Not with a dude.”

“See? The polar gives a rational response to my question. If the male lion in you had been awake when I asked that, we’d be tearing each other apart and destroying this quaint bar right now to sadly prove how manly we both are.”

Novikov thought on that, shrugged, and replied, “Yeah. Whatever. Is that vodka you were drinking good?”

Vic grinned. “The best. Let’s get some.”

Livy and Jake helped Vic up the stairs to the Jean-Louis Parker rental home. Blayne, who was sober, ended up driving Vic’s SUV back to the house. She and Novikov would then spend the night at the wild dog house across the street.

“He weighs a ton, Livy,” Jake complained.

“Put your back into it. We’re almost there.”

“Move,” Novikov said, pushing Livy and Jake away.