Vixen (The Fox and Hound Book 1)

by Catherine Labadie

  I dimple at him and go about my business, cleaning up the kitchen and waiting for him to leave. I have just enough time to call Duncan before Eisen or

  Harold gets home.

  25

  My bottom lip feels worn from my stressed-out nibbling. I have to remind myself to stop so I don’t accidentally draw blood from the chapped skin. Still, it’s hard to quell the anxiety: my conversation with Duncan wasn’t disastrous, but tonight’s the night I find out how my family will act about Duncan.

  I’ll also find out how Duncan acts around my family…but judging from what I already know about his mellow personality, I think we’ll be okay on that front.

  Sociology class becomes more interesting as the days go by, but it’s still not enough to hold my attention. Especially since this is my class with Duncan; he’s only a couple of seats away, and the sight of his tantalizing skin and his wonderfully scruffy hair is

  immensely distracting.

  I picture him as I imagined him last night when I told him my news; serious, worried with distinct frown lines between his eyebrows, and pacing his room as he considered my words. Sure, he was willing to follow the plan, but he has his doubts. Who wouldn’t? Forcing a human who suddenly has to completely pass for a half-breed for a few hours in front of my three shrewd brothers isn’t the nicest thing to do, especially since he

  has to reveal it’s all been a lie—to some extent—by the end of the night. He has more right to be nervous than I do.

  FEMI REIS: You. We need to have lunch today! Hasida and I usually eat up on the bleachers on the field outside, if you want to join us.

  I scan the SMARTtext without really considering it; multitasking usually comes easy to me, but paying attention in class, ignoring—or failing to ignore—Duncan, and desperately making the attempt to show Lyle I’m not interested by not talking in class is a lot to keep up with. I really want to text Duncan, but if we get caught the teacher might read our message out loud and address the recipient. That seems like a dumb way to come out to the public that we’re dating.

  Lunch with the Reis sisters might solve my problems, or at least a couple of them. It’s a bit of a gamble, but a plan formulates in my mind, so I act on it.

  SIERRA MAURELL: Sure! I’ll be there. I might have a few tag-alongs though, if you don’t mind.

  I imagine this isn’t what she wanted to read, because her reply is terse.

  FEMI REIS: Not Lyle and Morgan. Trust me, we’ll have a lot more fun without that drama.

  Femi’s perceptiveness surprises me again, but I’m not displeased. Trust me, I think grimly, we’re not thinking of the same tag-alongs. I already figured Lyle

  and the group of friends I need distance from will have to make plans on their own.

  As I look up from my phone, I notice Duncan is looking at me. It’s subtle, a sideways glance barely indicated by a turn of his head. But our eyes meet, a faint smile plays around his mouth, and he returns his attention to the teacher after a couple seconds. I struggle to keep a goofy smile off my face as the fur tracing my spine tingles.

  SIERRA MAURELL: Don’t worry, I wasn’t talking about them. See you later!

  I’m not sure why this feels like a good plan, but I feel bold today in spite of my worries for tonight. I want to have lunch with my boyfriend—even if I still have to be careful as to how I go about it—and I’m damn well going to do it. I’m tired of all the inequality drama, and for some reason I have a strange feeling that Femi and Hasida aren’t as hostile to humans as the rest of my classmates. My attitude about this plan yesterday doesn’t matter, and I’m willing to try again now that the friends I’m tired of won’t be involved in my plans.

  We’ll see, my subconscious whispers snidely.

  z

  “What are you up to?” Hasida asks me as she waits for me to grab my container of food from my locker. She sounds suspicious, but her pointed teeth show in a smile to dissipate any worry I might have.

  “You’ll see once we get to the bleachers,” I say. “Let’s just say I’m using my rights as the rebel queen of Hostetler to my advantage.”

  “That’s terribly vague of you,” Hasida shrugs, waving to her sister as she approaches from the end of the shabby hall. “But good for you for sticking up for yourself.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, thinking how good it is that they don’t know they’re the test subjects of this plan. Let’s hope they don’t mind a few humans hanging around instead of my other friends.

  “Yes,” Femi inserts herself into our conversation as we amble outside and begin the relatively lengthy walk to the bleachers at the other end of the school. “Good for you for escaping your clique. I wasn’t sure if you had it in you, but I’m glad you did.”

  “Femi!" Hasida chides, whacking Femi’s bony shoulder with her teal designer lunch bag. “Don’t be rude!”

  “It’s fine…they’re definitely a clique since I got so much grief for not spending this hour with them,” I admit wryly. My strange boldness helped me weather the displeasure of my first friends, and it also helped me notice the weird clinginess of the group. I got Morgan on my side simply by giving her a significant look and nodding my head towards Lyle: she got the hint and latched on to him before his attention could return to

  me. Thank goodness.

  “I don’t know how you put up with them, especially with the little love triangle that’s been going on,” Femi snorts derisively, stomping on the spectacularly green grass in her dainty grey wedge heels. “It’s only been a few days, and I’m tired of them already.”

  “Does everyone know about the…the love triangle?” I squawk; I don’t say it, but I’m tired of the immature clinginess of the group as well.

  “Yeah, but I’m doing my best to quash the rumors,” Hasida says, pausing to pluck a purple clover from the ground and tuck it into her bright cherry-colored hair; she styled it in an attractive fishtail braid today. “Femi said you told her you and Lyle weren’t going to work out, so I’ve stopped the rumors as I’ve heard them. Hope you don’t mind!”

  “I don’t,” I say truthfully. “I wasn’t even aware someone was spreading rumors.”

  “They are,” Femi is still stomping the ground as she walks, and I notice she’s been crushing fluffy weeds instead of plain grass. “Hey, it’s not like we have much influence aside from our party throwing skills, but we can certainly set a few half-breed students straight when we overhear gossip.”

  Hasida laughs suddenly. “Well, us and any of the six junior boys who have a crush on us. Between us we can usually control the rumor factory.”

  “The first thing I heard about you both when I met you was that you throw the best parties and only invite certain people personally,” I say.

  “Morgan told you that, right?” Hasida sighs. “That’s what comes of staying isolated in human

  communities.”

  “We used to do that, sure: junior high was a popularity contest, after all,” Femi explains; the bleachers are in sight now and my stomach rumbles from hunger as we approach our spot. “But not anymore…we typically invite people in person that we haven’t officially met yet. It simplifies things, gives us a good look at who will be at our house or club or whatever.”

  “Oh,” I say brilliantly. It may be fickle of me, but Femi and Hasida look like better friends by the minute. The lack of pressure is kind of refreshing.

  “Basically, we keep to ourselves and use our aloof rich-kid status to manipulate the masses. Here we are,” Hasida announces, stalking up the bleacher steps to the top row; her boots clang loudly against the metal surface. I follow, noticing as well the crowd of humans at the far end of the rows. Good, humans hang around here too, I think. That will make it easier.

  “What are you staring at, Sierra?” Femi asks curiously.

  “I didn’t know there were humans in this area,” I admit.

  “Of course there are! These are the best seats, after

  all, except when it’s raining,” Hasida se
ats herself grandly at the edge of the top row, composed as she takes a gourmet sandwich out of her lunch bag.

  “Do humans bother you too much?” Femi asks, taking a seat on the row below Hasida and patting the space beside her for me to sit. She scrutinizes me with her yellow eyes, and I suddenly struggle to not spill my story about Duncan. How wise is it to blurt out you’re

  dating a human? Not very, I remind myself as I sit.

  “I did mention I’d have tag-alongs…” I begin as I slowly sink down on the seat beside Femi. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m making a move for equality here, so—”

  “Equality my ass,” Hasida says, but her tone is light instead of accusing. “Sierra, if you wanted your human friend to have lunch with us, you didn’t need to hide or make excuses.”

  “Although we appreciate your efforts, and we’re sure you really do support equality,” Femi cuts in, grinning.

  “Wait, what? How did you know?” I ask before realizing I just removed any doubts they might have had.

  Why are they okay with it, if they did know? I wonder, my ears slanting down. I cock my head to the left as Femi sighs long-sufferingly and shoos a mosquito away from her salad.

  “Surely you’ve heard that we Reiss don’t exactly hold the law in the highest esteem?” she asks. “We know things. I can’t say exactly which things we know, nor can we give too many details about how we know, but we never go into a situation without owning the facts beforehand.”

  “What she means,” Hasida explains after aiming a good-natured kick at her sister’s shin, “is that we’ve known of your…friendship with Duncan almost since the beginning. Of course, we never dreamed of it advancing very far until he showed up at our party in that ridiculous wolf costume. Even then, we expected you to reveal him to the rest of the group or send him

  away…but you surprised us by leaving with him.”

  “But we don’t judge,” Femi winks at me, causing my face to heat up with embarrassment. Alarm contributes to my flushed skin as well: the possibility that these two know about Duncan’s dual nature fills me with panic. My tail twitches madly, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

  “You don’t mind?” I ask. “Like…it doesn’t bother you that I’m friends with a h-human?”

  “If we were the type who did mind,” Hasida says darkly, “Trust me, you wouldn’t be here or still at this school right now.” Then she smiles, reaching down to bestow a friendly pat on my arm. “Don’t worry! Your secret is safe with us. We’ve been lucky enough to know several good humans in spite of all the bad ones, so we don’t see why anyone should interfere in our two races bonding a bit more.”

  She doesn’t know he’s not human, I stop myself from exhaling in relief.

  “That’s not to say your timing isn’t bad,” Femi points out. “What with the vote coming up, any friendship—or something more, judging from the reports of your dancing—will be absolutely trashed if you let anyone less tolerant find out. You should be careful.”

  “We are. That’s why he’s bringing a few friends with him today, just to keep off speculation that anything weird is going on,” I assure them, slowly relaxing; I’m able to enjoy the breeze sifting through my hair and fur. I don’t know why, but just like I knew I could trust Duncan, I believe that the Reis sisters might be on my side after all. At least, they’ll be more reliable—and so far more trustworthy—than my other

  friends.

  “Femi, why were you warning me about boys thinking with their dicks yesterday?” I ask one of the questions bubbling at the forefront of my mind. Femi chokes indelicately on a crouton, but she recovers quickly as Hasida pats her on the back.

  “That was a little vague of you, dear,” she reproaches. Femi looks up at me apologetically.

  “Sorry…I wanted to wait and see if I could read your feelings with more success,” she confesses with a pained expression. “Now I know for sure you don’t like Lyle, this is easier.”

  “Explain!” I command. I want her to tell me before my human friends arrive: they’re probably in line in their own cafeteria now, or perhaps they decided to eat lunch inside. Duncan might find it easier to persuade his friends to come out here over food.

  “Well…Lyle likes you, as you well know. He’s been interested in you since the moment you came in the front doors of the school, and especially since all of the half-breeds here look up to you so much,” she complies, and I can tell by her breathy speed that she wants to get this over with quickly. “But some of my…assets overheard Lyle bragging to some of the

  other boys about his intentions towards you.”

  “This is sounding more and more like a gothic novel,” I remark dryly, drawing a snort from Hasida.

  “Sadly yes, your gentleman’s attentions are not honorable. I’d credit that to your famously good looks and bewitching character,” Femi grins, teasing me. “But from what it sounded like, it’s more for your status as queen here.”

  “Honestly, you two seem more like queens to me,” I retort, slouching as I pick at my food. “I’m a thoroughly middle-class girl from an isolated half-breed neighborhood, and you are from—”

  “—a notorious crime family, yes, we know. We have the connections, but it’s not prudent to overuse them,” Femi waves her fork in the air, gesticulating to the clouds above us. “But you have a seemingly sweet, relatively honest disposition with an iron backbone, and you’re not afraid of standing up to Belinda Harper or anyone else here. Accept that you are popular and well-liked for now, whatever the reason.”

  “Fine,” I concede, not churlish enough to combat her praise. “The point?”

  “Lyle was boasting to the guys at the party—a few hours after you left—that he can’t wait until you guys are officially together so he can persuade you to help him take over the school and such,” Femi says with an expression on her face like warm garbage has been shoved beneath her delicate nostrils. I blink, not totally surprised, but unsure why this would be a big issue.

  “That sounds like something he would come up with,” I say. “It wouldn’t work, especially not now since I don’t feel the same way about him, but he was drinking at a party and all guys like to brag.”

  “Tell her the rest,” Hasida encourages, eating faster so she has more freedom to speak. Her diminutive size led me to believe she would be health conscious and not prone to eating a lot, but she sure can pack away a sandwich.

  “I am, I am!” Femi shakes her head impatiently. “It’s true he’d had a fair amount to drink, but he wasn’t

  drunk enough to excuse his bragging and the other comments he made about how much you’d…er…enjoyed dancing with him. Horizontally as well as vertically, if you catch my drift.”

  "I catch it," I say disgustedly. How much I enjoyed dancing with him? I think back to dancing with Lyle: I had enjoyed it, but it was nothing to the brief moments Duncan had danced with me. But Lyle didn’t know that, and why would he spread suggestive rumors about me?

  “That’s…” I struggle to voice my befuddled thoughts. “He’s boasting all that? What for? I could easily refute it, and if I’m as popular as he thinks I am, everyone here would believe me.”

  “This is why I warned you about boys thinking with their dicks. He probably got a rush from the attention you gave him, decided to take over the school and bully the humans with night raids to graffiti the school or whatever—which, knowing Lyle, I doubt he walked in here without a plan involving some sort of human subjugation—and decided to humor the guys with details about your…ehem…allure.”

  I don’t know what to say. “That’s…incredibly petty.

  And wrong. And…what?”

  “Perhaps we should finish this conversation now,” Hasida suggests wisely. “I see your tag-alongs coming now.”

  Giving myself time to think, I turn around after she announces the approach of my human friends. They’re good at looking inconspicuous, all except the sunshine girl dating Aaden; she’s obviously trying to stop hers
elf from walking ahead impatiently. Duncan is casual as

  well, striding with the cavalier grace belonging equally to teenage boys and confident hunting hounds. My injured feelings about Lyle’s careless words evaporate for an instant as I see my redhead fighting to hold back a grin…but they return the moment I drop my gaze from Duncan’s face. Better he doesn’t learn about this today, I decide.

  “Are you sure your asset was right about what he overheard?” I ask Femi, wanting to confirm her story as best I can before I steer clear of my former friend.

  “Absolutely. He’s kind of my boyfriend for now, so he wouldn’t lie. Hell, he’d do a lot to curry my favor,” she tells me, shamelessly staring back at the humans approaching us; I notice how predatory her eyes are as she sees Duncan’s friend Truman, and I don’t suspect her current boyfriend will last long.

  “How about we make this lunch a regular thing, then? I won’t relish the company of my other recent friends anymore,” I say. “Shelby and Ivar might be fine, but between Morgan’s jealousy and Lyle’s arrogance…I’m not going to be Lyle’s trophy girlfriend, that’s for sure.”

  “Just say the word and they’ll be dealt with,” Hasida speaks in a silky smooth voice that makes me shudder; I look at her strangely, noticing how very metallic and cold her irises appear.

  “Er…no thanks, I think I’ll just keep my distance,” I say, and she smiles angelically, eyes returned to normal.

  “As long as he keeps his stupid plans to himself, I won’t interfere,” Hasida sings, her dangerous aura dissolving as my human friends approach.

  “Mind if we join you?” Bari calls up to us as they ascend the bleacher steps; their feet echo on the metal with more noise than my friends and I made coming up.

  “Sure,” I call down, giving my friends one last questioning glance to make sure they approve. The strawberry-blond girl—Mabel—doesn’t wait; she marches ahead of everyone and plops down beside Hasida, who regards her with shrewd surprise. Facing me, I notice how bright her huge smile is.