“Katsuo’s there.” She pointedly ignored the mention of her parents for a second time, and I took the hint. I wouldn’t ask again. “He was sewing one of the flaps that Chiffon chewed up by accident.”
Past the big tent, rolling hills eclipsed whatever lay beyond the encampment. We definitely weren’t in Dallas anymore. “Can we get down there without being spotted?”
“I do it all the time.” She snorted. “It’s easy.”
Hoping she was right, I imitated her monkey-crawl down the support piers of the deck. Our feet hit the ground at the same time. Thick grass cushioned our landing. From there Gen darted into the field to the right of the encampment, and I was huffing to keep up with her. The girl could move.
We snaked through the stout tufts of wheatgrass on our hands and knees, and my heart thumped harder at the possibility that escape was just beyond that blasted tent. All I had to do was make it that far, give the dog a few pets then shift and bolt over the hills with no one the wiser.
Voices drifted to me as we ran. I caught snatches of conversation. None of it about me. You’d think if I was some kind of war prize, Ryuu would have told his people. Prisoners were a morale booster, right? Having never joined a rebel army myself, I wasn’t sure what qualified.
Several yards out that same low tug in my gut told me Ryuu was near. Movement beyond the wall of grass spurred me on faster. It was all too easy imagining him experiencing that same awareness of me and discovering his future wife had gone out on the town without his permission.
“You have proven yourself a fair and just reynard to our people. Your parents would be proud. However, I must warn you. You risk war bringing her here.” The frail quality of the speaker’s tone pulled me up short. “Are you sure she is worth it, nephew?”
“She is my mate.”
The hard edge of that voice I recognized. My gut had been right. Ryuu. According to the other speaker, my would-be husband was the reynard of this hodgepodge skulk. As potent as he was, as many kitsunes as he had in his service, the confirmation didn’t surprise me.
Wolves had their alphas. Kitsunes had their reynards. I wasn’t a fan of either variety, truth be told.
“She is a Hayashi,” the elder warned.
A tug on my sleeve made me jump before I heard whether Ryuu joined in the elder’s condemnation of my family or not. I’m not sure why it mattered, but I wanted to hear his response. Gen yanked again to make sure I was paying attention and mouthed, Come on.
I backed away slowly, casting one last glance over my shoulder before chasing Gen up the slight incline. I met her in a patch of flattened weeds. Over the tips of the seed-heavy grasses, I spotted the patchwork tent and heard the low whine of a canine.
“You stay here,” she ordered. “I’ll bring Chiffon to you. You can play with him for a couple of minutes, but then I have to take you back, okay?”
Not a chance. “Okay.”
I waited for the stalks to close behind her before I bolted. Finally. That familiar prickling started down my arms. The change was a glimmer of intent, a second of lost breath, and then I was shaking out my rust-colored fur and digging in my claws. I kicked up dirt and grasped as far as my legs could stretch for each impact of paws on earth.
Gen must have deliberated on the odds of her not getting grounded for life before caving to a good, old-fashioned scream, because I earned a decent head start. More shouts rose behind me. Grass swished, and my heart pounded double time. I couldn’t let them catch me. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for Gen’s trick more than once, whatever it had been, and the brat wasn’t likely to ever want to see me again after I had betrayed her.
A deep-throated bark dumped a bucket of icy adrenaline over my back. That wasn’t a fox bark. It was a dog. Gen had set Chiffon on my trail. Frack. I pushed harder, moved faster, building my lead.
It was no use. Paws the size of dinner plates hit me mid-spine and sent us rolling. The curly-furred beast sported a bright yellow pelt like a lemon with a bad perm. It braced on my chest and pressed down while snuffling me. This wasn’t a puppy. It was a fracking pony. Its weight made stars dance in my vision.
A throttled growl lifted fur down my nape. I kept my head tucked to my chest to avoid exposing my throat to the dog, which did nothing to protect my tender belly, but I rotated my eyes in the direction the sound originated. A large, dusky orange fox with high black socks eased forward with its head lowered and teeth bared.
The pony whined and shifted its weight off one paw, allowing me to gulp a breath. The fox darted in, snapping at its other leg, and the pony jumped back with a yelp. Even I could tell the fox hadn’t hurt the thing. Just startled it.
Tail between its legs, the pony began a march of shame back to where Gen called its name. Chiffon indeed.
I flipped onto my paws, wobbled and plopped down on my hindquarters. My ribs were sore, and breathing hurt. Shifters healed most injuries quickly, and the healing fever spread warmth through my chest like a swallow of aged scotch.
The fox, having run off the predator, turned his bass grumbles my way. In no mood to be chastised, I whacked him in the face with my plush tail. His ears flattened, and he spat fur. I glowered at him, a rumble in my throat, and dared him to try me on for size.
Ignoring me, Ryuu—and it was him, I recognized his scent—circled me, inspecting me for damage. He paused before me, almost nose to nose, and butted his head against my cheek. His relief left a tang on the air. My shock must have too, because he withdrew several yards and shifted.
Ryuu the man sat with his legs crossed, black hair sheeting down his back, eyes gleaming with anger or fear or some equally dark emotion. He didn’t move to touch me again. He didn’t yell at me or threaten me. He simply stared until Katsuo joined us a minute later.
Ryuu broke his silence. “Return her to her room. Place new guards at her door. Chain them there if you must.”
I snarled and snapped at Katsuo when he tried picking me up and tucking me under his arm. I hated being touched in this form. Katsuo ought to remember that, and yet still he attempted to catch me. Ryuu allowed the battle until I leapt from Katsuo’s shoulder and hit the ground too hard. My chest pulsed with pain, and I whimpered. I wavered on my feet, and Ryuu rolled to his in a fluid motion, extending his hand toward me.
This time a reynard’s heady magic spilled from his fingers into the air, so much harder to resist while instinct ruled me. No doubt that was why he waited until I got furry to give it a try. The compulsion to obey Ryuu forced my chin to my chest, but I swiveled my eyes upward, and he sighed at the slight disobedience. His power beat at me until the horizon wobbled in my vision. I had no choice but to lower my gaze.
Only then did he lift me, cradling me against his chest. He scratched behind my ears, and I bared my teeth, poised to bite. Except my hind leg started kicking as he rubbed that spot I could never quite reach with my claws. Too bad for him stellar pets wouldn’t earn him absolution. I snapped out of it and then snapped at him, sinking my teeth deep in the skin of his hand and ripping open a nasty wound he dismissed with a frown. The potency of his blood rushed over my tongue, shot right to my head and made me punch-drunk. So much power. So many allies. What did he need me for? He was formidable in his own right.
“Things would be so much easier if you remembered,” he said under his breath.
Remembered what? I barked.
Human ears failed to understand the question for what it was, and he hauled me back into my cage without answering me.
* * *
Escape accomplished one thing at least. It reminded the rogues they had a prisoner in need of food, and a tray was brought to my room. This time I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even sniff to see if I detected any tampering with my meal. I inhaled it. I was a girl who enjoyed eating, and my navel was brushing my spine at this point.
Belly full, I set my plate on the floor beside the door and placed my cup in the small bathroom so I had a spare. While I was working Escape Attempt #1,
the sheets had been changed, which wouldn’t help if I didn’t get a shower at some point. The handsewn clothes left on the bed for me smelled of lavender, and I blamed my improved mood on whatever lingering magic had seeped into the fabric.
I flopped on the bed and linked my hands behind my head, wondering where Thierry was, what she was doing. Then I smiled to think she was probably raising holy hell and rallying the troops. It was what I would have done for her—what I had done when Balamohan abducted her. I was as good as saved. Ryuu just didn’t know it yet.
At some point my eyes must have closed, because a rattling sound popped them open. I swung my legs over the side of the mattress and stalked toward the door, but the noise was coming from behind me. I walked a circuit of the room and stopped beside the window. When I yanked open the curtains, a familiar face hung upside down, and her scowl was fierce.
“Ry said he’s getting rid of Chiffon.” Glass muffled her voice. “All because Chiffon thought you were a bunny or something.” She sniffled. “It’s not his fault. You shifted, and you ran, and foxes aren’t allowed around dogs.”
A sharp ache pierced my heart. “I’m sorry.” I hadn’t meant to cost the girl her dog, but I also didn’t regret what I’d done. “Gen…” I weighed how much to confide against what she must have already known. “This isn’t my home. This isn’t my skulk. My parents don’t know where I am. My best friend is probably losing her—” I bit off that thought. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble, but I can’t sit here and wait for your brothers to…” I sighed. “I want to go home.”
“When Ry takes Chiffon to the pound, he’s going to want to go home too.” She sobbed. “Think about that.”
She swung sideways and vanished from sight. I approached the door, hand raised, but lowered it before my knuckles brushed metal. The girl acted half monkey, and she obviously knew her way around the place. Tattling on her would only alienate the one ally I had. Or used to have.
With a huff of irritation, I returned to the window and watched the grass until a sleek ribbon of ebony hair swirled through the wheat tips.
Chapter 4
Dinner that night came with a side order of tall, dark and broody. The man himself stepped into the room with a light jacket clutched in his fist. He extended it toward me. “Put it on.”
I glowered at him, at the fabric. “Where are we going?”
His eyebrows slanted downward. “On a walk through town.”
“Town?” I snatched the jacket and punched my arms through the sleeves. It fit snuggly and smelled fresh. The thought occurred to me that by using strong scents he might hope to mask my identity, but I bet everyone had heard Gen cursing my name by now.
“Don’t get too excited,” he grumbled. “It’s what the skulk calls the tents.”
“Oh.” I slumped. “Are you trying to guilt-trip me about the dog too?”
He cocked his head to one side. “How do you know about that?”
“I…” Damn it. Me and my big mouth. “I figured after he proved he was a hunter that you wouldn’t want him around. A kit might not be as lucky as I was today.”
He made a sound that was not agreement as his gaze slid past me to the window, where I had left the curtains thrown open.
I stepped between him and the far wall, cutting his line of sight. “So—a walk?” I had already cost the girl her dog. I didn’t want to get her grounded for life too if he figured out she was still hanging around me.
Ryuu grunted, not fooled but not sure what I was hiding. Yet. He held open the door and gestured for me to join him in the hallway. Unlike my earlier foray, we passed three guards in casual dress who made no attempt at hiding their curiosity. As though proud of the way they admired me, Ryuu’s shoulders straightened a fraction, and he offered me his hand.
I wrinkled my nose at his open palm. “Is that a requirement?”
“You’re fast and you fight mean.” He made it sound like a compliment. “I don’t want to risk you escaping a second time.”
Before the murmuring guards, I took his hand, and a cheer rose behind us. A blush heated my cheeks, which struck me as ridiculous under the circumstances.
Once outside of their hearing range, I asked, “What are they so excited about?”
He rolled a shoulder. “They know what my intentions are.”
I studied him. “Am I allowed to know those too?”
“I told you.” His thumb caressed the top of my hand, and I shivered under his touch. “I plan to formally mate you.”
Not an ounce of doubt laced the statement. Boy was he optimistic. “Don’t I get a say?”
His lips parted, but he shook his head. “We should hurry if we want to dine with the others.”
A shock zinged down my spine, but I tried not to clue him in to the fact his announcement had surprised me. I expected to be kept isolated. I anticipated more of the lock-and-key treatment. I must be on early parole if he was ready to trot me around town on his arm. “Trying to show me off?”
“Something like that.” He tugged on our linked hands, forcing me to match his longer strides. He must be serious about food. Another time it would be a quality I admired in a man, but not in this one. “After your misadventure today, the skulk is talking. Seeing you for themselves will quiet them down.”
I could tell what they had to say wasn’t complimentary. If it was anything like my parents, it would be along the lines of proper females don’t… followed by a list of my favorite activities. “Do they know you stole me?”
Muscle leapt in his jaw. “They are aware you’re not here of your own free will, yes.”
“And they’re cool with that.” Most skulks would be. Ryuu’s prowess in securing a female of my lineage spoke highly of him. “So if I run screaming through town, yelling for help, it wouldn’t do me much good.”
“No.” The wind blew black strands of hair across his cheek. “They are loyal to me, and we have waited a long time for this.”
As ominous as that sounded, I was spared from asking him what that meant when Gen stomped up to us.
“What is she doing here?” The girl walked up to me and kicked me in the shin. “Life ruiner!”
“Hey,” I yelped. “That hurt.”
“Katsuo,” Ryuu called, grabbing Gen by the upper arm. With his hand still in mine, he was caught between the two of us. “Katsuo.”
My old friend strolled out of a nearby tent with a towel over one shoulder and a generous bowl of rice in his arms. A handsome man with a few white grains stuck in his hair poked his head outside to watch the show. Katsuo pointed a warning finger at him, but the man just smiled and dusted his hair. Confident a sneak attack was not forthcoming, Katsuo turned his attention to me. “What’s she done this time?”
I pinched the leg of my pants and lifted it high enough to examine the tender spot. “She kicked me in the shin.”
“Tattler.” Gen strained against Ryuu. “You can’t keep any secrets, can you?”
“I don’t know,” I forced between clenched teeth. “Do you have any other secrets I shouldn’t share?”
Her eyes narrowed, and some of the fight drained out of her. “You’re not a nice person.”
“You don’t get to judge me.” I scoffed. “Find me in a few years after you’re hauled into enemy territory by a male with an alpha complex, and then you can lecture me about being polite to your captors.”
“Send her back where she came from,” Gen demanded. “You told me stories about Mai. This isn’t Mai. She doesn’t act right.”
Katsuo stopped stirring. He shifted the bowl to one hand, took Gen’s wrist with the other and hauled her into the tent with him. Ryuu headed in the opposite direction, towing me in his wake.
“If Katsuo was telling her stories, I could see it.” Something wasn’t adding up here. “But I don’t even know you. How is it you have stories to tell about me at all? Unless you’re just repeating what Katsuo told you.”
My grim-faced tour guide didn’t respond to the accusation,
and he didn’t lead me down into the field dotted with blankets where the atmosphere reminded me of families ready for a picnic. I counted an equal number of males and females. Their ages ranged from walker-assisted to nursing. None dressed in uniform, unless you counted the simple, handmade fabric garments they wore. They weren’t much of an army, and that unsettled me even more. A battalion of armored kitsunes with swords at the ready would have put me more at ease.
“I thought we were eating with the people?” I mocked as he hauled me up a sloping hill to the base of an oak tree.
“We will dine with them, but not with them.” A hard edge made his next words sharp. “You’re a Hayashi. You understand a reynard must be of his people and yet apart from them.”
I did understand, but I didn’t have to like it. If he had his way, I would be as much responsible for all these people as he was. I balked at the idea. It felt like a cage of another kind being lowered over me.
A quilt was spread over the grass under the tree, and mason jars lit with small tea lights hung in the branches. It wasn’t dark yet, but night was fast approaching. By the time dinner was served, the hilltop would be well lit, and all the kitsunes in the valley below us would have a clear view of their reynard and his future bride.
I had to hand it to him. Ryuu was slick. He had staged the moment to perfection.
Careful to keep hold of my hand, he settled himself against the tree trunk and helped me sit beside him. The view, I had to admit, wasn’t half bad. As long as you discounted all the hopeful stares spearing through me. All the expectation smothering me.
“Why are they all staring at me?” I patted my hair. “Have I sprouted a second head since the last time I saw myself in a mirror?”
The tiny crease in Ryuu’s lips might have passed for a smile on another man. On him, it was likely indigestion. “You don’t need a mirror.” His grip tightened a fraction. “You’re beautiful, Mai. You always have been.”
Stone-Cold Fox (Black Dog) Page 3
