Page 21 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Argents eyebrows arched. “More specifically?”
Michael blinked. “Men.”
Despite the questions he could see piling up in Michael’s mind, Argent firmly redirected the conversation. “What is to be the official position on these ‘children of mixed heritage’?”
“Mixed,” Michael said with a weak laugh. “Initial responses fall in line with what you’ve already said. Except for the cats. Hisoka wants to offer protection.”
“Another optimist.”
Michael asked, “What do you think?”
Argent shook his head. “This changes nothing.”
“Not foryou.”
Before they could lapse into another tired old argument, a sudden spike of emotions buffeted Argent’s awareness. Confusion and frustration were foremost, but his mistress’s blossoming fear goaded him from his chair.
“Argent?”
“Something is wrong.” Argent sprang toward the door, sure of one thing. Tsumiko had spoken his name.
FOURTEEN
Sly as Foxes
The landscape blurred as Argent accelerated toward the mistress he was obliged to protect. Senses straining for signs of a threat, he let his power rise as far as he dared. A growl was already building in his chest when he caught Tsumiko’s scent. No blood. No tears. Good.
He heard Sansa’s warning shout, but ignored her as inconsequential. All that mattered was answering his mistress’s call. Only Tsumiko’s muffled cry brought him up short. He crouched with her in his arms, breath coming in sharp gasps until obedience calmed the uproar in his soul.
“Argent?” she asked shakily.
“I am here.”
“How did you know Sansa needed you?”
That was not how this worked. But his gaze flicked to the battler.
She barked, “Get her inside! Get Michael started on more wards.”
Again, Argent ran, not slowing until he reached the gaping front door where Michael waited with hands clasped, eyes closed, and focus elsewhere.
“Youknew,” Tsumiko murmured when Argent set her down. “How?”
“You called.”
“Did I?” She fiddled with her necklace, a small pout on her lips.
Clearly, she did not care for confusion. He said, “I heard you.”
Her gaze drifted to his ear. “Isn’t that impossible? We must have been a kilometer away.”
Argent drew himself up. “I have excellent hearing.”
“Because you’re Amaranthine?”
Michael’s eyes popped open, and he pulled the door shut. “Most Amaranthine havemuchkeener senses that we do, miss. Now, what can you tell me?”
“Sansa wants more wards,” Argent said. “Quickly.”
