Fox Chance in Hell (Misfit Shifters Book 3)

by Rae Foxx

  I moved to say something, but she shook the box and went on, “He left this on my doorstep, right where my kids could find it. I don’t even care what it means. I can’t do this anymore. I already gave too much. He just keeps taking and taking and taking! So I fucked my stepbrother. Okay, that’s my big secret. That’s what he’s holding over my head. I fucked my step brother, and I liked it. My oldest kid isn’t even Kent’s. There. Secret is out. Nothing else to blackmail me with!”

  Holy fucking shit. Talk about a juicy secret.

  Somewhere in between talking about liking to fuck her stepbrother and shaking the white box, her gaze turned to me and she paled. “What are you eating? Where did you get that?”

  I swallowed the last of the cinnamon roll while she faltered, her knees buckling. She looked like she might fall over at any second.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s already won. Don’t you see? He’s been poisoning you the entire fucking time!”

  13

  Poetry cackled and slapped the top of her thighs. “Poisoned? What in the name of insane are you talking about, Becky? How dumb are you? Dawn made these. She’s my friend.”

  Evan started to slap at his tongue, wiping the thing with his palms while making gagging noises. I was surprised he didn’t grab a napkin and start wiping it down. It’d be hilarious if we weren’t in the middle of a murder investigation.

  Becky rolled her eyes at his antics and then squared off her shoulders, her gaze targeting me. “All this detective work and sneaking around at all times of the night and here we are. You’ve missed the biggest fucking clue of them all.”

  None of us moved or said anything and our nonchalance seemed to fuel her.

  “You probably still think it’s me who killed my husband.” Her laughter filled the place with a stickiness that seemed to cling to my senses.

  Travis stood and held up the book, shaking it like a fist in the air.

  The woman, dressed like she was on her way to bring someone to a PTA meeting, laughed even harder.

  “Fuck, you have everything, and you still can’t figure anything out.” She slapped her hip, throwing her head back, and chortling. We were so funny, apparently.

  Travis read out the section again that explained that the butcher had to be taken care of, but she barely listened to him before interrupting.

  “Well, that was only half right,” she snapped. “I was supposed to be the one to do it, to end Kent. The thing was, I still loved the bastard. He should’ve just stayed put instead of following me to the Mayor’s office. He thought I was the one having the affair with the Python. But instead, he put himself right in the middle of this mess. Why couldn't he have just stayed at home?”

  Becky’s face had gone red and I realized that I’d taken a few steps back. Yeah, I could take down that grizzly. I had done it before, but that didn’t mean, especially in my sleep-deprived state, that I wanted to.

  “How do you know that the pastries are poisoned? Can you smell it or something?” I asked, trying to point her back in the direction of clues instead of just rambling about her man-whore husband. I considered sniffing the cinnamon rolls myself, but thought better of it. Too late anyway, I already had two in my belly.

  “Please. A poison that could be scented would be too easy. Still she didn’t have a choice, Dawn was being blackmailed by him too. Hell, almost everyone in this town was.” She took a few steps toward Travis after putting the box down, and my hackles raised. Like hell she was going to lay a paw on my mate.

  “Give me this.” She jerked the book from his hands and flipped through the pages like she knew the contents by heart. “Here. Look.”

  She pointed her finger, tapping the page and jutting the book toward us. We gathered around the thing and leaned in.

  The page showed instructions directed to Dawn. It had a list of things she should do, which included adding an array of poisons to her pastries, and the consequences if she didn’t comply. I almost felt sorry for the baker...almost.

  Along the next page in the journal was a list of business names and addresses. It was properties that needed to be taken over, or bankrupted, so they could be reclaimed on the cheap.

  I let it all sink in. Of course, that always created more questions. “Wait, this is all about property? The kidnappings and the murders...what’s the end game here? Is there oil in Cummings Cove? Are we sitting on a gold mine? What is it?”

  “I’ve always assumed he wanted to run us out of town one by one. Turn us in for bounties, or like you said, there was some value here that we didn’t know about. So, that’s when I suggested the bookstore.”

  We all gasped, but Poetry actually didn’t seem fazed.

  “And what happened when you suggested that?” I asked, stepping toward her. She wasn't so much of an enemy now that she was spilling her guts.

  Becky fidgeted, which was not like her at all. “He didn’t appreciate the suggestion at all. He said that he wanted us to keep our distance from the store, and from Poetry. He said that you all were sniffing too close. You would find out the truth about Stacey, Eddie, Dawn, and Kent. All of it.”

  “Okay, if he doesn’t want us here, sniffing around, why not put Poetry out of business? Run her out too?”

  Becky snorted a breath through her nose and a smirk rose on her face, making her look slightly sinister.

  “Our instructions were clear. Poetry was being restrained.” She glanced at the plate full of pastries and laughed. “He said the rest of you were fair game, and he didn’t care what your fate was. But Poetry...he wants her right here, like a rat in a cage just waiting for the predator to come sniffing.”

  Poetry again looked like nothing was wrong with the fact that someone was manipulating her. Or maybe her not knowing was part of the manipulation all along.

  “So why tell us now?” Travis asked. While Becky was talking he’d pulled out that notebook and jotted a few things down.

  “Because when he said all of that about Poetry I realized what he was.” Again with the mysterious ‘he’. I was starting to get itchy not knowing who Becky was referring to. She continued, “Trust me, he had that same tone that Kent had whenever he mentioned meeting a new woman to me. It’s something raw and animalistic. The man we are working for has a train-sized hard-on for Poetry, and he’s playing games. Well, that’s when I realized I was out. I’m not playing his little boy in the schoolyard shit anymore. I told him that I wasn’t going to take orders from him anymore and that’s when I got that on my doorstep.” She pointed her manicured finger at the box.

  “Poetry, do you know who this is? Do you know who...well, has a hard-on for you?” Evan asked with a shudder. I thought he might dry heave. I contemplated doing it too.

  My aunt just sipped on her tea and fiddled with her scarf-skirts like no one had spoken to her.

  Becky threw her hands in the air. “See what I mean? You have to sober her up. She knows who it is, and she will know how to stop him. I have to leave. We all know what happens when you disobey and I, for one, won’t end up like Dawn.”

  Her comment jerked me to attention since Owen had been with Dawn, and if this man she kept mentioning had taken Dawn, then he had taken Owen too. Now I had a better idea of who the hell to murder in order to get my mate back.

  “What do you mean ‘like Dawn’?” Travis stopped writing and raised his voice to get her attention.

  Becky looked out the windows and then back at us like someone might be out there. “Dawn decided she wanted out too. She didn’t want to poison anyone anymore. And now she’s gone. That’s why I came here to warn you before I leave. I won’t have my cubs come to the same fate as Dawn or your mate.”

  I snarled loud and mean at her for even mentioning Owen.

  “And before I go.” She kicked at the box she’d put down. “Open that at your own risk. It isn’t pretty, but knowing you all, you’ll want to investigate it.”

  Wulf tried to hold me back from opening it, but I shoved him out of the way.
I had to know. As much as I prayed and chanted and wished what was inside wasn’t a piece of my mate, not knowing was killing me slowly.

  I reached out, my heart beating so loudly that I was sure it was rattling the windows and causing small tremors in the earth. I swallowed against the boulder in my throat and decided the band-aid approach was best, so I flung open the box. A cry left my throat and tore through my mouth before my brain could really register what was inside.

  “No!” I screamed again, the sound piercing my ears as I collapsed into a heap on the ground. I scrambled away from the box while Evan looked inside next. He went completely pale at what he saw, and began to shake uncontrollably before coming to scoop me up in his arms. My wailing and sobbing were only muffled by Evan’s shirt as I buried my face in his chest, trying to hide from the gut-wrenching sight of one of Owen’s feet in the box. Evan held me tight while his own chest wracked with silent cries. I saw that Wulf was trembling with the force of his animal wanting to emerge.

  I finally looked up as Travis whirled on Poetry. He crouched in front of her and shook her shoulders while his voice cracked, “Who is it, Poetry? Who would do this? You tell me right this fucking minute!”

  He shook her one more time and it was like flipping a switch on. I watched, still secure in Evan’s hold, as Poetry snapped back to life and stuttered something incoherent. Her eyes widened as she took in the room, like it was the first time she realized she was even there.

  “There is only one person. He’s the reason I left Puritan Village in the first place. The son of the Alpha. Lym.”

  I pulled back from Evan and stared at her. It was the first clear piece of information we’d gotten since Becky’s bust in. “But the son of the Alpha is the Alpha now. Lym is the Alpha now, Poetry. Or he was, since I was the one who killed him.”

  Poetry opened her mouth to speak, but a jingling of the bell above the door stopped her. Everyone in the store whirled around in slow motion. Almost like we knew who it was. The foul scent of bear blood clung to the air, pushed in by the wind from outside.

  It was none other than Lym himself. He stood, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his naked body, hands covered and dripping in blood. “Not dead quite yet, fox. But I’m glad to see you received my gift.”

  14

  This motherfucker had the balls to show up all red-handed at the bookstore.

  “I swear this town gets more fucking Scooby-Doo by the minute. Except this time the fucking villain just walked in and ripped off his own mask,” Evan snarled, but I could hear the exhaustion in his voice, I could feel it beating in his heart. We were all exhausted. Exhausted from investigating and searching for clues and just all around tired of fucking Cummings Cove.

  Not tired of fucking. Not ever.

  Lym whipped his gaze toward Evan, and a sinister smile pulled at both corners. The scent of death and blood he’d carried in with him clogged the oxygen in the place so that every inhale gagged me.

  I scrambled out of Evan’s arms and to my feet, tears still streaming down my face, and postured to the monster now standing right in front of us. I knew I’d seen that fucker the other day standing right across the street. At least now I was verifiably sane. Well, kind of. Moving my feet with a growl, I tried to rush him. If I had any say, in seconds this motherfucker was going to be headless and testicle-less.

  I only made it three steps toward him before he smiled wider and said, “Frozen.”

  The muscles in my feet went completely cold as though I’d accidentally stepped into a below-freezing alternate universe. The icy sensation started in my toes and spindled up my feet and legs until it veined out through the rest of my body, the coldness branching out until it had reached all of me. The only parts of me that could move were my mouth and my lungs, apparently.

  What the fuck was happening?

  I glanced over at Evan, who was also frozen in place, same as Wulf and Travis. While no icicles formed on our eyelashes and we weren’t breathing out snow, the frozen state of us remained.

  “What in the actual fuck?” Travis cursed out, his words clipped, cracked.

  Lym laughed and dropped his bloody hands to perch on his hips. “Good to know that still works. The spell I put on Dawn’s baking is alive and well. I thought maybe it would wear down after the pastries weren’t fresh anymore.”

  His eyes fell to Poetry who was frozen in her chair, but trembling somehow. “This was all for you, Poetry. I’ve been using this spell to control you for years so that no one else would know your true value. After all, those gifts you have were made for me.”

  “How in the fuck are you alive? I know I killed your sorry ass once.” I tried to sound intimidating, but in my frozen state it was falling in the realm of bunny rabbit.

  His beady eyes zeroed in on me and the smile left his face. He scoffed and took a step toward me. If I wasn’t already frozen in place, I would’ve stilled from sheer terror. He was a scary beast. “It was touch and go for a while, but my mate and my friends helped nurse me back to life. Of course, I had something to fight for, something to keep me going. I had revenge in my heart and the woman that has always eluded me, both reasons demanded that I live.”

  I opened my mouth, but he beat me to the punch.

  “Cummings Cove is full of people...so easily manipulated. Blackmail worked beautifully on all of these once-criminals. It was so simple to get them to dip their feet back into the sin pool. I have been keeping Stacey on a string. She, of course, has been siphoning information from the Python Mayor by seducing him. In the end, she proved to be the most valuable of all,” he began to pace while he monologued, and I suddenly realized that Evan was wrong. It could get more Scooby-Doo in here.

  “So you killed Kent?” Travis demanded, but his voice was strained.

  Lym gave my mate a one-sided smile, and if I had been able to shudder, I would’ve in that moment. The man was a twelve on the creeper scale.

  “No, you see, I don’t really have to do any of the dirty work. Well, until recently.” He lifted his hands to prove that he’d done said dirty work just minutes ago.

  “Then who did?” I asked, trying to push against whatever force had me frozen, but found that it didn’t give a fucking inch.

  “Stacey, of course. Kent kept putting his nose in my business, and we had to end that before he got too close. I’d ordered Becky to do it, but she was too enamored with him. No matter how many times he’d screwed her over. Even Eddie wouldn’t do it. So, of course, I had to take measures into my own hands. Stacey took care of Kent, and then Eddie too, just for giving me so much trouble and not following orders.” He stopped and tapped his chin with his finger like he was recalling the events in his head. “Stacey was the one who took the book back from Becky, made sure the microfiche was well-hidden, took out anyone and everyone I needed. All it took to convince her was letting her feed from me just once.”

  “She should’ve killed you and added that to the list,” I offered, but he just chuckled.

  “Oh, she probably wanted to, but a succubus can never say no to power. Just the idea of feeding from me again was enough to ensnare her. I became her puppeteer.”

  “Where is Dawn?” I asked, really wanting to know where Owen was, but deciding he might tell me about Dawn before he revealed anything about my mate.

  “Dawn…” He sighed. “Such a fucking disappointment. She couldn’t keep her little mouth shut. She told you everything, even though I warned her what would happen if she did. She made her choice, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word. And of course, there was the cat. He simply knew too much. Wrong place, wrong time sort of thing.”

  I screamed so loudly that it singed the insides of my throat. Trying to break free of his hold, I attempted to wiggle or move a toe, something. Still, nothing was happening. I was stuck, listening to this motherfucker ramble on about his grand plan.

  Gods, I hated villains.

  “So it was you who has been sending all the body parts in boxes. And it was you wh
o killed my entire fucking family!” Travis’ voice was booming to the point of shaking things on the glass shelves. Well, the ones that were left.

  “Well, I tried to make it easy on them. It was their own fault, really. If they had just stayed around long enough to finish out the trial, I would’ve…” He ran one finger along his neck. “But they ran. Punishment for wrongdoing doesn't have an expiration date. Anyway, I was more interested in retrieving my son.”

  “Your son? What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, pushing all the anger I could into my voice, not that Lym gave a fuck. Still, it made me feel better.

  “Travis’ uncle didn’t kill my father. Yes, the Alpha was found dead with Travis’ aunt, but that was because she had agreed to carry one of the Alpha’s children for him. Travis’ uncle found out that the Alpha had sired quite a few pups that way, and he was getting everyone together to banish the son of the Alpha. That’s me in case you haven’t put that together. You lot are a dumb bunch. The thing was, I wasn’t stupid. Plus I had inside information.”

  I tried to flail or kick this asshole in the nuts, but nothing in my body was working. The ice in my veins and cells seemed to pulse, getting thicker and colder each time I tried.

  “Fuck all this goddamned story time. Where the fuck is Owen? I swear to God, I will cut off your hands like you did to my mate. And I won’t stop there. You won’t be siring any pups like your dad did once I get ahold of you.”

  “You can go ahead and try, fox, but my spell is stronger than any of you.” He walked over to Poetry and crouched in front of her. Her eyes widened as he did. “Oh, Poetry.” The man leaned forward and kissed my aunt on the lips, letting them linger for longer than necessary. “I told you I would come for you. Told you I would never let you go. I would mate you, but I don’t think you’re ready...yet.”

  “I will never mate with you!” Poetry yelled, unable to object physically to the kiss, but the man just laughed.