Page 30 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“Yes, miss.”
“Then why did you bind him to me at all? Couldn’t everything have stopped here?”
Could it have? Michael swiftly retraced his duties as a reaver and his contractual obligations as the Hajime family’s ward, but even more so, his loyalties as a friend. Had he fallen into the same trap as Lady Eimi, binding Argent because he couldn’t bear to lose him? Surely not! It had been necessary … hadn’t it?
He lifted a stricken gaze to find two pairs of pale blue eyes studying him.
Michael fumbled for words. “With the cousins squabbling over who would claim him, I was relieved when the search produced a viable alternative. My only thought in binding them was for Argent’s safety, but … oh, friend. Did I prolong your captivity?”
“In one sense, yes.” Argent’s brows lifted a fraction. “In another, you saved my life.”
“What ifthatwas your only chance? What if I’d been able to undo the bond instead of dutifully remaking it?”
“Could he have?” asked Gingko.
Argent shook his head. “To prevent my escape, those first reavers wove conditions into the bond. The shriveling my mistress detected during the ceremony was a consequence of the time it took to find a suitable soul. If you had not renewed my captivity, I would have died.”
“You were dying?” Michael’s heart clenched. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
With a cryptic smile, Argent replied, “There is more than one way to end this enslavement.”
Gingko spoke up. “So the bond was necessary. Michael had no choice.”
“Yes,” said Argent.
Tsumiko asked, “Could you free him now that he’s safe?”
Michael traded a look with Gingko, whose fanged smirk left no doubt to his fox heritage. Oh, yes. Miss Tsumiko was the right sort of different. “I hope so, miss. With your cooperation, we might be able to pull it off.”
“Unless we are discovered first,” Argent said.
Although Michael was fairly sure he only intended to reinforce Gingko’s decision not to call attention to his existence, his remark had an entirely different effect.
“About that,” said Gingko, whose ears flattened. “Couldn’t help but notice that the approach to the estate boundaries has been … approached.”
“What?” Michael hadn’t felt so much as a flicker through his wards.
“All those wide open spaces between us and everything else in the world, the parts Sansa calls no-man’s-land.” Gingko glanced at his father. “Whoever was nosing around wasn’t being very careful. There are tracks everywhere.”
The extensive Hajime-Smythe holdings butted up against forests, fallow fields, and the sea. Remote as any Amaranthine enclave, theycouldn’tbe stumbled across or happened upon. Even though Michael already knew what the answer must be, he asked, “What kind of tracks?”
“The kind a normal human wouldn’t notice,” Gingko said. “They’re Amaranthine all right. You think it’s a scare tactic? Letting us know we’re as good as surrounded.”
“Doubtful,” said Argent. “If you had not come skulking home, we would not have found their tracks. Our defense has become their shield.”
“That can change.” Michael drummed his fingers on the desk. “Can you give me more details, Gingko? What clan are we dealing with? How many of them are there?”
“I didn’t slow down to sniff every little thing. I’ll go back with Minx and reconnoiter.”
“You must not be seen,” warned Argent.
“Tsk,” his son answered playfully. “I may not be the real thing, but I’ve learned a few tricks.”
When Gingko vanished, Tsumiko gasped. “How did he do that? He disappeared into thin air!”
Michael chuckled. “You only think he did, miss. He actually left through the window.”
“Amazing,” she murmured.
