Vixen (The Fox and Hound Book 1)

by Catherine Labadie

  of his jackal ears jagged. Then the door closes behind him.

  Hasida and Femi are a pair, one fluttery and gleaming golden, and one in sleek, tight garb of burning silver and shocking shades of violet. I feel plain beside these striking siblings. Their eyes appear strange as well, even for half-breeds.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m kind of amazed we made it through there. I’ve never been dancing in a crowd this big before.” I feel like a backwoods girl saying this, but Hasida flips her hair back and smiles with teeth that gleam under a blue light.

  “This is your first real dance party? Are you enjoying yourself?” she asks, and Femi gasps beforeI can answer.

  “Not yet she’s not!” She exclaims, whirling me around to face her so she can inspect my eyes; then she grins mischievously. “You’re still walking human, right?”

  “Walking…human?” I ask. There’s a brief spell of quiet as the song blasting over speakers in the ceiling transitions to another. My throat is parched already, but judging by the crazed atmosphere here, it might not

  be safe to drink anything.

  “Yeah…your senses are still toned down?” Hasida

  asks.

  “Yours aren’t?” Now that I understand, I’m surprised; I would’ve thought the sounds and smells and other stimuli would’ve been overpowering at this level of action.

  “Oh honey…our kind doesn’t do drugs, not recreationally, but if you haven’t tried going full half-

  breed, that’s no kind of life,” Femi clarifies. I’ve never thought about it that way: in a human world, it’s been easier to just stay as human as possible unless it’s a matter of immediate survival.

  “Is that why everyone else is so…out there?” I ask, curious. Call it peer pressure, but I’m so intrigued that the excitement in my stomach becomes real. I’ve already started cranking up my fox senses; every bit of my fur on my body bristles, but in a good way this time.

  Hasida nods. “Parties are much more…enjoyable when everyone lets the animal out to play. Instinct mode just feels so...natural,” she says with a slow wink that makes her eyes appear more reptilian than ever. This sounds dangerous, but I don’t think I mind. I wonder if my pupils are sharpening too as I allow all the nearby stimuli to trickle in.

  Here goes, I think. Let’s see how the fox likes being in control…

  “Sierra!” Lyle’s voice startles me, but not as much as the music. It’s so loud that I want to run and hide, or at least cover my ears. My skin feels sensitive, like when you have a fever and every bit of skin is raw nerves. My tail thrashes back and forth as my nose tingles from the human and animal scents dispersed through the air I can almost taste. A few beads of sweat trickle into the

  fur lining my spine.

  Wow. I think, impressed; it’s been a long time since I’ve let the other DNA take over, and definitely my first time letting it go without feeling stressed or endangered. This has to be better than just being human. Maybe something about both sets of DNA enhances whichever part that I give dominance.

  “Hey there,” I say to Lyle once he comes closer. I see the features of his face better, and I have to admit that—without his standard hat, which ironically hid his lack of animal ears—he really isn’t bad looking. The wide planes of his face are symmetrical, aside from the healing bruises from the fighting; I’m glad half-breeds heal quickly. His eyes are blue, but very feline, and the way his hair falls in his eyes is admittedly attractive. He’s not taller than me, but he’s very fit and his jeans and the cut-off sleeves of his shirt show off wiry muscles I’m sure he’s proud of.

  Easy now, I tell myself. You weren’t thinking about him this way earlier. The thought of Duncan slams back into my mind, and I forbid a frown to creep onto my face. My phone burns in my wristlet, niggling at my mind, making me wonder if Duncan ever messaged me.

  “You look great, S,” Lyle says to me, and I am grateful that his gaze only flickers down from my face to my chest twice. You’re thinking too hard, I tell myself before my anxiety can stress me out again. Fox, not human.

  “Wanna dance?” I ask boldly, reaching forward and taking Lyle’s hand.

  “Sure,” Lyle replies, leading me back onto the dance floor where at least a hundred bodies come together and part to the beat of the outrageously loud music pounding through the house. Femi and Hasida are probably mixed in there now, since they tactfully disappeared when my date found me.

  Now that I’m thinking fox, my insecurities fade. I’ve never held a boy’s hand before, but my enhanced

  senses don’t mind the hot touch of Lyle’s palm on mine. I see in his eyes that he isn’t walking human either.

  What a strange concept. It’s easier to push away thoughts of human troubles and human boys with kind eyes and red hair when dancing is involved. Lyle and I exchange a few words in between several songs, but there’s not much time or inclination for talking. Right now he’s more lion than boy, I’m more vixen than girl, and that’s fine with us. I even forget about Morgan and the rest of them, although one of my passing thoughts hopes that they are enjoying the party as well.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I call to him in the middle of a retro punk rock song from the pre-2020’s. “I thought boys weren’t fun when it came to dancing.”

  “Maybe human ones,” Lyle clarifies. “Music is part of the jungle, and I’ve learned to go with it.”

  “The jungle? I thought your kind lived in the mountains,” I tease, the fox in me acting the vixen. Lyle grins and his hands find my waist. He’s been doing this more, tentatively at first, but more frequently as the music reaches sultry points and as I dance a little closer. The DJ is an angel; he or she plays all the right

  songs, perfect for shaking my curly hair around and performing the moves I can do.

  “Sometimes we come down from our mountains to the villages,” Lyle quips.

  “What for?” I glimpse my reflection in his eyes as the lights installed overhead flicker over us briefly. My eyes are hypnotic and smoky, and I can tell he definitely noticed that as well as other things about me.

  “To hunt.” A sly grin steals over his mouth and my

  heart does a funny swoop downwards as his eyes burn into mine. We continue dancing…

  …but right then the music changes to something with a lower, sexier beat. My cheeks are already flushed from dancing, but I sense the couples around me instantly moving closer and lower toned laughter sounding around the room. Several people cheer.

  “What song is this?” I ask, giving myself time to decide if I want to be closer.

  “It’s another old one,” Lyle tells me, “It’s been popular lately since the retro stuff started to come back.” His eyes burn, and suddenly his hands are on my waist again, a little tighter, sliding down more towards my hips. It’s not unpleasant; this both-hands grip makes me feel tiny and fragile in the best way.

  But… the human part of me interjects. Why are you doing this, Sierra? Do you really want to? What about Morgan? And Duncan…I reconsider for a split second, a human face flashing to the front from my recent memory.

  Hush, I tell my thoughts sternly before shutting them off as best I can. Fox, not human…fox.

  My hands are cold and shaking, even if the rest of me is warm, but even in this unusual state I feel like something is off. I smile invitingly anyway and move

  closer, mostly ready for this dance I’m planning to engage in. But someone bumps into me really hard, almost knocking me off my feet. The song pulses ahead in spite of my separation from my dance partner.

  Damn! I think as I’m lost amidst the host of couples tangled up with each other on the dance floor. Everyone can see in the dark with our DNA, sure, but

  the point of the moving lights is to make it so our eyes won’t adjust properly to the dimness. I won’t find Lyle by sight, and there are too many smells to pick out him out. Quickly…before the song ends and the moment passes.

  Maybe this is a good thing, my responsible, human
mind hums smugly. You were getting carried away.

  So what? I think, but I’m relieved. Without Lyle around I feel, if not more human, more me.

  My confusion disappears as an appealing scent floats past my nose, and another pair of strong, large hands settles firmly on my waist from behind. If I thought Lyle made me feel petite and tiny, these hands make me feel like a fairy. I’m so busy trying to recall the oddly familiar scent that I don’t look turn around. Besides, my new partner and I have to keep dancing: we’re on the dance floor, and it’s easier to dance than be crushed by everyone else.

  “Hi,” I say weakly, but I’m not sure if my partner heard me. A warm, spicy canine scent fills my nose, along with a flavor of that pleasingly masculine cologne that settles on my tongue. Temporarily powerless to resist, I lift my arms up in the air as I dance.

  He’s a good dancer too; I don’t want to turn around and break the spell as his hands move slowly down to

  my hips before sliding back up to settle on my waist.

  A gentleman, but not too much of one…who is this guy? I think, gliding my hips in a circle before dancing away slightly. I know it’s not Lyle: his scent I recognize, and it’s definitely not canine. Plus he doesn’t wear cologne…

  Half-breeds don’t wear cologne, my thoughts

  chime dizzily. My fur was already standing up from the unadulterated animal chemistry passing in tiny electric shocks between me and this guy, but now I feel a sense of alarm zip through my skin.

  I whirl around quickly just as the lights settle on us long enough for me to recognize Duncan Ledford holding on to my waist.

  18

  “Duncan!”

  I’m too stunned to react, so my fox senses analyze the situation for me. Duncan looks amazing this way, I have to admit: his eyes are very bright and that kind of piercing green you only read about in books. All of his freckles are pleasantly defined along with the fine-boned structure of his face and stubble-covered jaw-line and neck. He’s so tall compared to me, and I can’t shake off how his hands felt on my waist.

  But if I can tell Duncan is human by a whiff of his cologne, others might notice too. That would be a huge disaster.

  Now that the spell is broken—I tell myself that even though Duncan's hands slide very slowly from off my waist—I notice the grey beanie he’s wearing, with holes

  cut in for a pair of overly-fuzzy white wolf ears to poke through. Probably a fake costume headband, I assume.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask in a strangled voice. Both of us stand still now as the sexy song continues to play, and various couples give us dirty looks as we don’t move along. “How are you even here? Are you stalking me?”

  Duncan grins sheepishly; I smell his anxiety. “I told you, my dad worked for Reis senior once. I went with him on the job at the time, so I remembered where the house was. And no, definitely not stalking. Well, I mean, technically it is, but—”

  “Way to give me a heart attack, Ledford!” I say, peering around anxiously to make sure Lyle or anyone else isn’t paying attention to this scene. We need to go, I think, determined.

  Not considering the action before I do it, I grab Duncan’s hand to tug him with me so we can get as far away from these party people as possible. This is the first time our bare skin has touched: something shocks us both, probably static from my fur, and my face turns pink as his hand drops from mine. Still, he gets the point and follows my lead.

  Why is he here? I’m thinking, questions bouncing around my brain as the two of us maneuver between all the people crammed into this house. Trying to get out before anyone notices how human my companion is will be difficult.

  “What’s the rush?” Duncan asks as we finally reach the front door and head outside. I want to pull the ridiculous beanie and fake ears off his head, but that will have to wait.

  “You’re a human. At a half-breed party. After a week of us being mistreated by other humans,” I explain curtly. “Do I really have to explain how it’ll go if someone in this menagerie notices you’re a human?”

  “It’s definitely a menagerie,” Duncan speaks at an appropriate volume now that our words aren’t overpowered by the beat of the song inside. “What are

  you all on in there?” His tone is more curious than derisive, so I’m not upset with him assuming that everyone here is high.

  You’re only upset that you had to stop dancing with him, my thoughts smugly point out to me, and I resist the urge to growl.

  “Apparently we don’t use our human senses a lot at these kinds of events,” I say.

  “That explains a lot of the behavior I was seeing—” I suddenly notice Shelby approaching with Ivar, although she hasn’t seen us yet.

  “Go get your car, now!” I hiss at Duncan, stepping in front of him. Maybe he got the idea that I don’t want Shelby to see us together and possibly recognize him, because he swiftly obeys so she doesn’t see him hurrying away from me.

  “Hey, Shelbs!” I say with my absolutely brightest smile. “This is some party, huh?”

  “How is the date going?” she asks with a smile, looking up adoringly at her boyfriend. “You look great”” she chortles. I don’t know how long it will take Duncan to get the car from wherever he parked it, but I need to get rid of her. It’s easy to fix a worried expression onto my face.

  “Thanks. The date is going well…but I just got a text from my brother, and something is wrong at the house. Harold or Eisen is coming to get me. Plus I lost Lyle during the dance, and that seems like a bad thing to do on a date. I haven’t been able to find him, so I came out here hoping—” I begin; Shelby understands and pats my arm in assurance.

  “Don’t worry, Shelbs and me will go find him for you,” Ivar offers generously, looking fairly nice—if still enormous—in a grey jacket and faded jeans.

  “Really?” I ask; there’s no need to fake my relief.

  “You can text him in the meantime and let him know you have to go, perhaps make plans for another time? Problem solved!” Shelby smiles fondly, adding the sand-papery feeling of guilt to my drama. She looks very different from me as she flounces away, around to the back of the house to find my not-boyfriend: she’s wearing white to compliment her Arabian-esque skin and make it bronze, and somehow the overall effect is very sweet. Ivar lumbers after her, surprisingly quick for a boy his size.

  I anxiously look around for Duncan’s car, willing him to hurry. I wonder why he even came in the first place. There’s nothing for him at a half-breed event, I muse. The only person he knows here is me, and not even that well.

  Maybe it was enough that he wanted to see you sooner than tomorrow, my next thought whispers. I quash this mental rumor before my subconscious latches onto it too tightly. After a night of freedom like tonight, though, my reasonable thinking won’t last long. Part of me still wants to be back inside, dancing with

  Duncan under the strange lighting. Maybe it was how he looked at me when I turned around, maybe it was the spicy scent that surrounded him, or maybe it was how big his hands felt on my waist…all I know is that I really wish I’d just danced with him anyway.

  Finally, I see Duncan’s beige car pull up, and I hurry to climb in on the passenger side. He looks at me

  before we drive away, a side-ways glance with a close-lipped, smirking grin bespeaking great confidence.

  “Hey,” he says. I don’t say anything as I settle as primly as I can in the passenger seat, trying to keep calm.

  “You look good as a fox, by the way,” he adds after another moment of awkward silence.

  “I wish I could say the same about you as a…a wolf, right? But those ears are a little too puppy-ish to be real,” I say roughly. I’ve curved my tail around into my lap, and I stroke it nervously.

  “Then why were you so eager to take a drive with me?” he says before noticing my determination to not be amused. “Listen, Sierra—”

  “Why did you come here tonight, Duncan? It doesn’t make sense that you’d do something so
stupid,” I begin; he’s silent this time, and I try to smooth over my harshness. “You’re my friend, and you should know that it was a pretty bad idea for you to pick this party to crash.” Not that I regret it, I think, and I’m tempted to fidget as I consider the mixed feelings punctuating my thoughts. Lyle didn't and couldn’t affect me this way, I definitely know that now. Perhaps it’s a blessing Duncan came in when he did…

  Duncan sighs, both hands gripping the steering wheel as we drive. I tentatively allow my fox senses to return; it’s hard to repress them so soon after giving free reign. I sense from my ginger friend a paradoxically nervous confidence, like a kid who’s successfully stolen a desired toy from a high shelf. The scent of alluring cologne mixed with the unfamiliar canine scent lingers

  in the air, and I make a note to ask him about this along with my other questions.

  “Okay, Sierra,” he begins in an ominous tone, “I…a lot of what I want to tell you is going to be fairly hard to say, and even tougher for you to believe, I think. You seemed pretty unenthusiastic about this party tonight, and since I knew where it was and that you would be there, I decided to go. Maybe it was a bad idea?” His last statement is a question which produces more questions, and my eyebrows arch in confusion.

  “Maybe?” I say. “You would’ve gotten beat up if you hadn’t found me soon. Did you forget my kind can actually smell any human who approached the house?”

  “I didn’t forget,” he says quietly. “That’s part of why I’m here. And part of where we’re going.” I take the time to observe my surroundings.

  “Where are we going?” I ask; I thought we were aimlessly driving nowhere.

  “See, I figured if I went and found you, you might be…eager to get me out of there before someone found me. Sorry if that was a dick move, it just seemed like the best plan at the time,” he says, turning to look at me with a semi-apologetic expression. I nod, wanting him to continue justifying his appearance. “So I prepared some stuff so you might not miss the party so much. I-I kind of got the impression that you liked hanging out with me, so I didn’t think you’d be too mad.”