Page 14 of All Foxed Up

I slammed my foot on the brake, going stock still, my heart beating faster and faster as I searched the picnic grounds until I saw them.

Spiky was grinning, making me think the message came straight from him, but the one they called Rye? He just crossed his very impressive arms and stared across the grounds at me. The other one with the long hair, his eyes flicked between the lot of us with a quizzical look that made a lot of sense. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on either, but I did know this.

They could chase me all they liked, all the way back to Langston, if that’s what it took, but what they didn’t understand was this. I went to school with most of the coppers stationed in my hometown, and would have no problems organising a restraining order. Then there was the matter of my dad, my brothers, my cousins and my uncles, all of which were a dab hand with a rifle. Admittedly those on the Riley side might sell me off to these strangers for ten bucks, but if I made it clear they could take whatever the guys had on them, they might stay loyal. I shook my head and then pulled out of the carpark, determined not to let anything else stop me.

When I got backto Nat’s, I started picking up my gear, ready to put it in my car. I hadn’t properly unpacked, so it was a matter of picking up a few bags. I made the bed, straightened the pillows and then went into the en suite to check if I’d left anything, when I caught my reflection in the mirror.

The henna had washed out of my hair mostly, leaving it a weird strawberry blonde. I’d caught some sun, my nose red and probably ready to peel in a few days, even though I’d slipped on a coverall, slopped on some sunscreen, and slapped on a hat. But it was my eyes, wide and bright, bright green that caught at me. Because as I stared, it wasn’t hard to see another three sets of eyes overlaid over the top of them. One wide eyed and dazed, one full of certainty, and the last sparkling with barely repressed mischief. I blinked and blinked until I just saw me.

Were we related? Is that what the fuck this was? Nanna Madden had tut-tutted when she saw that my eyes were going to stay green, always making some oblique comments about… The thought seemed to fall apart as my fingers dropped lower, stroking over a red raised burn on my chest in the shape of a fox. But just as I was about to trace the shape of it, I heard the door downstairs open. Feet came thundering up the staircase, and the bedroom door was shoved open seconds later.

“What if Holly is changing…” Nat protested, right as five sets of eyes stared around the doorframe at me.

“Changing into a fox?” Lars’ usual grumpy face turned from a scowl into an outright glare. “You never said you were a shifter.”

“Because up until five minutes ago, I wasn’t,” I shot back. I went to push past them, but the bears all clustered around me.

“You’ve shown no signs of shifting prior to this?” Alaric asked.

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever gone furry, then the answer is no.” I started stacking my bags together, which made Nat frown.

“You’re going home?”

“Seems like it’d be for the best,” I replied, then looked up at her. “Whatever the fuck that was… Well, I’m hoping it never happens again, if I get far, far from here.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how it works,” Thorn muttered, then we all glared at him. “What? We can’t just take off, try and outrun the bear.”

“Not helping,” Nat said between gritted teeth.

“But we need to find someone who can.” Lars nodded sharply, then pulled out his phone. “Maybe there’s some kind of suppressant, or maybe the witch community could work on a spell for us.”

“There’s witches?” I asked, staring at him. “Why am I only just hearing about this now?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter—”

“Dad, can I have some of the grown up cake?” a little voice asked.

“No!” we all replied at once. Nanna Madden’s cake would give a three year old cirrhosis instantly.

“But Dad…” one of the boys whined.

“Come on, darling. I have cake that will put hairs on your chest.” Oh god, that was Ingrid. “And ice cream and custard.”

“OK, you need to make sure your mother isn’t feeding our child rum or brandy infused cake,” Nat said, poking Lars in the chest. “And the rest of you need to put the food away, make sure our guests are OK.”

“And you’ll look after Holly,” Alaric said before shifting his focus to me. “I know Rye Beaumont and his skulk.”

“Skulk?” I jerked back. “A group of foxes is called a skulk? That’s even weirder than sleuth.”

“We’ve had some… encounters with them on some of the sites we’ve worked on,” Koda said, but it was his careful tone that caught my attention.

Because I knew what this was. People did the same when talking about my mum’s side of the family. While Mum herself was just a nice, boring housewife, the others… People would be slagging off the Rileys in my presence, going to town on their description of my cousins’ or my uncles’ characters, right before they remembered who I was to them.

But while I knew Uncle Gavin was a thieving prick, he also used to give me the best horsey rides, hoisting me up on his shoulders when I was a little girl, then galloping around until I was shrieking with laughter. And while I stiffened when my cousin Vinnie walked into the shop, he’d come around in the dead of night to help me change a flat tyre when I was stuck on the side of the road.

“What kind of spell would you want a witch to cast?” I asked, before the men left the room. “What would you want them to do?”

Thorn looked at Koda, and Alaric scratched at his beard, but Lars stepped forward and spoke with his customary bluntness.

“Help find a way to suppress your animal,” he told me, “because fox shifters? They’re the lowest of the low in the shifter community. Cunning bastards and sneaky with it. You can’t trust a fox.”

---