Page 21 of All Foxed Up

“Then you should’ve made the right decision.” Nan bustled around the kitchen table to stand before Mum, both women bristling like angry dogs.

Or foxes.

I just blinked, open mouthed. Like a lot of families, all the conflict simmered just under the surface, never to come up but for small hints, if you knew where to look. I did. I searched the two of their faces, seeing Mum’s eyes glowing brighter and brighter green, while Nan’s remained a consistent hazel.

“I did make the right decision,” Mum ground out. “Being with Fergus meant I was able to bring the boys and Holly into the world.”

When they turned to me, each one of their expressions softened. I felt like a small child, not a grown woman, but I was not about to allow anyone to infantilise me.

“What makes me think you two know a lot more than you’ve been letting on,” I said, as their eyes dropped to the mark on my chest.

“That’s a nasty burn, Hols, what caused that?” Mum asked in an artificially even tone.

“It’s the Riley blood coming through—” Nan started to growl.

“What the hell does that mean?” I slapped my hand down on the kitchen bench and Nanna’s frown deepened. “You say shit like that all the time.”

“Holly!” Mum said.

“But you never explain what it means. The Riley’s don’t carry around the mark of Cain.”

“It would be better if they did,” Nan shot back.

“Why?” My challenge went unanswered, the grumpy look on the old woman’s face growing deeper. “Why, Nan?” My voice broke and both women’s expressions shifted at that, but I pushed on. “Is it something to do with moldavite?”

My grandmother pulled back in surprise, but she rallied quickly.

“I told you the lore about the crystals for your own good, not to be worn like trinkets.” Nan gestured at my necklaces and rings. “Not to be sold to silly women who wouldn’t know the divine if it bit them on their arse. Crystal work is a potent thing, with unpredictable results. I educated you as a warning.”

“For what?” My words hung in the air. “Moldavite is the crystal that represents self-discovery—”

“And finding your own path.” Mum gave me a sad smile. “Is that why you’re back from the city so quickly? Did you…?” There was melancholy and joy, resignation and hope, all rolled into one in her expression. “Did you… discover yourself?”

“Did I realign my chakras and find inner peace? No, I was too busy trying to keep two bear shifter cubs from rampaging through a public park, creating chaos wherever they went.”

I’d never said anything about the nature of Nat’s sleuth before this to anyone, but I watched their faces closely. Nan looked filthy, Mum, surprised, but not with the kind of shock the average person would feel.

“Natalie is mated to bear shifters?” Nan asked. “Pah! Filthy things.”

“And what about fox shifters?”

Foxy had been a good little girl, sitting quiet in the back of my mind, but not now. She prowled forward, like this was my nan’s chicken coop, not her kitchen. We caught every tiny shift in my grandmother’s expression. That flash in her eyes, the way her lips thinned down to a straight line, then that steely look she fixed on me. Foxy shifted, whined and then let out a couple of sharp barks in warning, but that wasn’t the strange thing. My grandmother jerked as if she heard each one.

“Get my satchel,” she snapped at Mum.

“This was always going to happen,” was my mother’s only reply. “You tried, but you said—”

“I’ll get it myself.”

Nan snatched up the leather satchel that always sat on the kitchen bench, despite every single other implement or container having a space in the cupboards. “I tried my best with you, Holly, but blood runs true.” She pulled out a small wad of herbs, bound with cheesecloth and a faded ribbon. “But you are a Madden as well as a Riley.” Then she started to mutter something in a language I’d never heard before. Low, guttural, the words seemed to rake across my skin, leaving stinging welts behind.

Foxy paced back and forth, back and forth, then reared up on her hind legs, testing the boundary between the two of us. I’d promised I’d get us home safe, to my den, but I hadn’t fulfilled my part of the bargain. She’d been shoved down deep, so deep I couldn’t even feel her, and she was never going back in that cage.

Which made me wonder who put her there in the first place.

“No, Jeanette!” Mum said, storming over to my grandmother, but when she put a hand on Nan’s arm, the old woman tossed it off with surprising strength.

“What’s going on here?” Dad said, appearing in the doorway, Pa behind him. “Mum?”

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