A Fox's Tail (American Kitsune Book 2)

by Brandon Varnell

  While Juan stood there, gawking like some kind of idiot, Kevin closed his eyes.

  “The only person I would ever bare my heart to is my Beloved.”

  The words bounced around in his head. He didn’t understand how Lilian could sound so certain, so sure of herself. It’s like she didn’t even consider the possibility that he might not be her mate, that she might be mistaken. At the same time, her words were almost like a ray of sunlight piercing the clouds of his troubled mind, sweeping across the landscape of his soul and encompassing his heart in a warm glow.

  He felt sick. He was leading this girl on, too cowardly to tell her no, too spineless to set her straight, and that wasn’t even taking his feelings for Lindsay into account. That was a whole other can of worms that he didn’t want to open right now. How could he set this whole twisted love story right?

  Kevin sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the one who chose to ignore the many times he told Lilian they weren’t dating.

  “There he is! There's the idiot who stole our costume again!”

  “Let's get him!”

  Juan narrowed his eyes.

  “I guess that is my cue to leave, but do not think this is the last time that we will see each other.” He pointed at Kevin. “I shall return, and when I do, I will steal the lovely señorita away from—doof!”

  Something beaned the matador boy in the head; a microphone, Kevin noticed. Juan bolted, realizing that he had finally overstayed his welcome, but not before tossing one last parting comment.

  “Do not think this is over! One day, I will pluck you from your vine, mi hermosa flor!”

  “I don't even know what that means!” Lilian shouted back. “And stop calling me flour!” Unfortunately, Juan was unable to hear her over the shouts, demands and screams of anger from the pursuing theater club students.

  “Get back here with our costume, Juan-Pompadour!”

  “You're going to pay for stealing from us!”

  “It's not Juan-Pompadour!” Juan's yell could be heard in the distance. “It's Juan Martinez Villanueva Cortes!”

  “I don't care what your name is! It's going to become Juan Road Kill if you don't give us our costume back!”

  “I will never let you have this back! I need it to properly show off my encanto; my manly charm!”

  “WE DON'T CARE!”

  Seconds later, the horde of enraged thespians passed by Kevin and Lilian, leaving a large trail of dust in their wake.

  The two nonplussed housemates stood there, matching looks of “what the fuck just happened?” on their faces.

  Several seconds of silence passed.

  “Why don't we just pretend this never happened?” Kevin suggested. Lilian nodded her head.

  “Agreed.”

  Putting the encounter out of their minds, the two were free to make their way to class. Fortunately, Juan had not taken up too much of their time, so they would not be late.

  Not that it mattered. Lilian's Deus Ex Machina ability to manipulate a human's mind could get them out of nearly any kind of trouble. It would be especially easy since their homeroom teacher seemed unusually susceptible to kitsune powers.

  “Do you really not remember meeting that Juan guy last week?” Kevin finally decided to let his curiosity get the better of him.

  “Of course I do.” Lilian clutched Kevin's arm tighter to her chest as she went into another full-body shudder, making Kevin think of the frenzied beating of a hummingbird's wings. “I could never forget meeting someone so creepy.”

  “Then why did you say you didn't remember?” Lilian gave him a sly smile, and it took Kevin a second or two to understand the meaning behind it. When he did, the young man chuckled. “You’re definitely a kitsune, alright.”

  “Tee-hee, of course.”

  “Still, that was pretty mean of you.”

  “He deserved it,” Lilian declared fervently. “He's such a jerk, thinking he can keep calling me by those ridiculous names and expecting me to go out with him.”

  Kevin felt a bead of sweat run down the left side of his head.

  “Isn't this a case of the pot calling the kettle black?”

  “What was that, Beloved?”

  “Nothing.” Kevin quickly looked away. “Still, I'm surprised you would pull a prank on someone. You've been so nice since you've arrived…” He trailed off for a moment as he realized what he had just said. “Well… for the most part. I haven't seen you pull a prank on anyone since we've met, at least.”

  “That’s because I haven’t really had the opportunity to pull a prank.” Lilian pouted before a small, genuine smile appeared on her face. “And besides, I also wanted to make you smile. And look!” She exclaimed, freeing her left hand and gesturing to his face. “You're smiling.”

  “Ah,” Kevin felt a familiar heat appearing on his face. “I guess I am.”

  As they continued walking to class, neither of them saw the figure clad in gothic lolita garb, peering at them from just around the corner.

  ***

  Chris frowned as he stared up at the ceiling. Not like he could do much else. He'd been practically confined to this spot ever since Kiara had moved in. His body still hadn’t healed for some reason, so he’d been forced to remain in bed. Even now his nerves screamed in agony anytime he overexerted himself.

  It was absolutely infuriating, not being able to fight, forced to lie in this ratty little bed all day! How dare that bitch do this to him! When he got his hands on that gods-be-damned fox, he was going to―

  “Hurk!”

  A pained gasp escaped his mouth. His muscles twitched, sending intense jolts of pain through his body. It hurt! By the gods, it fucking hurt! It felt like every cell was being burned alive by an intense light! He could do nothing but clench his teeth and ride out the mind-shattering agony until it subsided.

  Another gasp. His body, drenched in sweat, finally relaxed again.

  Ever since his battle with that fox, he had been experiencing the most intense bouts of suffering imaginable. They seemed to come and go at random, but whenever his thoughts became dark, and his anger got the best of him, the pain intensified. He didn't know what that meant, but he was sure that the fox bitch was responsible.

  “Kiara!” he shouted out, “make me a sandwich!” Chris was pretty hungry, and since his bitch of a sister was temporarily living with him, he might as well take advantage of it and have the woman make him some food. The kitchen was where she belonged anyway.

  When his sister failed to answer he frowned.

  “Kiara!” He called out, louder this time. Still without an answer, Chris swore loudly as he struggled to sit up. Even doing that much hurt. Gods dammit, he was as weak as a newborn pup!

  After several minutes of struggling, he finally managed to sit himself up. He took a bit of a breather, preparing for the most difficult part: standing.

  Of course, saying that standing would be more difficult than sitting was a bit of an understatement. Chris's legs didn't seem to like cooperating with him. Whenever he tried to get on his own two feet, his thigh and calf muscles would send painful jabs of muscle-tearing agony up his legs, and into his brain. It felt like someone had taken a machete still burning hot from the forge and stabbed him in the legs repeatedly. The pain forced him back onto the bed, panting and puffing as he exhausted what little energy he had recovered.

  After nearly six minutes of unsuccessfully trying to stand, Chris was forced to crawl along the carpet like some kind of inch-worm, until he could get over to the wall to support himself.

  It was a good thing Kiara couldn’t see him; this was humiliating enough without her.

  Despite the hardships he underwent, Chris managed to climb to his feet eventually. Leaning against the wall for support, he dragged himself into the living room.

  “Kiara! Stop fucking ignoring me and make me a sandwich you stupid… huh?”

  Chris blinked several times as he entered an empty room that looked nothing like the living room he remembered. Th
e once messy living room was actually clean. The stains were gone, the cracks were sealed shut, and the furniture was brand new. Was that a leather sofa?

  “Kiara?” Chris' confusion turned into indignation, then anger, as he realized that not only had his sister messed with his apartment, but she wasn't even there for him to yell at. “Where the hell did that bitch go now?”

  ***

  “I can't wait for tomorrow!” Lilian made her fervent declaration as she and Kevin walked out of the main school building. It was after school now. Track practice had ended a short while ago, and the two were on their way home.

  Kevin looked down at the girl attached to his arm. Or was it the other way around? Either way, he could see Lilian's jubilant smile and sparkling, emerald eyes.

  “You seem even more excited about my track meet than I am.”

  “Of course I'm excited.” Lilian turned to look at her mate. “I'm finally going to get to see you in action! Your first track meet of the year! I'm sure you'll be amazing!”

  “Thanks!” Kevin couldn't help but grin as well. It wasn't even that her smile was infectious―which it kind of was—but that he couldn't help but agree. “With all the training and exercise I've been getting, I'm sure I'll get first place in both of my competitions.”

  “Hm hm!” Lilian nodded with exuberance. “You did really well at practice today. I saw how you beat that loser in the one-hundred and two-hundred meter dash.”

  Kevin’s chuckle was like music to Lilian’s ears. “I did, didn’t I?”

  That had been a moment he would cherish forever. The look on his rival’s face when Kevin beat him at both the 100- and 200-meter dashes had been priceless. And it was proof that he was getting faster.

  Kevin was positive he had Lilian to thank for that; her constant presence on the back of his bike had forced his muscles to work harder than ever before. The diet he had been on thanks to Lilian's incredible cooking probably helped as well.

  He would have to find some way to thank her. He didn't know how yet, because the girl only seemed to want one thing from him—and he planned on holding onto what little chastity he had left. Thank you very much. He would still think of a suitable thank you gift, though. Maybe a nice dinner or something…

  His thoughts were derailed by a pair of soft, full lips pressing against his cheek.

  “What was the heck that for?” he placed a hand on his cheek. It felt warm.

  “For luck.”

  “The track meet isn't until this Wednesday. What do I need luck for?”

  “Then because I wanted to.”

  “That does sound more like you.” Kevin slowly nodded, his blush receding a bit. “Please don’t do it again?”

  “Eh?” Lilian whined. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s just…” Kevin stopped himself. Even if he told her the reason, chances were high that Lilian wouldn’t listen, and unless he was willing to be a douche about it—which he wasn’t—then nothing he said would work. “… Never mind.”

  “Okay.”

  A growl from behind alerted them to the fact they were not alone. They turned around to see Eric walking behind them, eyes narrowed as he stared at nothing. No, not nothing, Kevin realized as he felt the by now familiar urge to cave someone's face in overcome him.

  “Eric.” He held himself back, shaking his head. This was just Eric. No need to get upset. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have to see my dad before I leave,” Eric growled, still staring.

  “You got caught peeking on the girls when they were changing again, didn't you?” Eric didn’t answer, but his deepening scowl let Kevin know that he hit the nail on the head. “You do know that the principal's office is in the opposite direction, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you following us?”

  “Because if I'm going to be forced to listen to my hypocritical old man talk about how I'm being disrespectful toward women again, then I want to have a happy memory that I can use to block him out.”

  “I see, I see.” Kevin nodded his head calmly. “And that is the reason you're staring at Lilian's backside?”

  “Yes.”

  The urge was stronger now. Kevin didn’t appreciate how Eric saw Lilian as nothing more than an object. It bothered him, and the desire to break his fist on his friend’s jaw became stronger than ever. He resisted, clenching his hands to keep from acting on his desire.

  “Fancy meeting you here, kid,” a familiar voice said.

  Three sets of eyes turned toward the origin of the new voice. Kevin blinked when he saw the familiar woman walking up to them.

  “Hey,” she grinned, raising an arm in greeting.

  Kevin looked at her in surprise. “You're―”

  “One of the sexiest pieces of ass I've ever seen!”

  Everyone blinked as Eric randomly appeared in front of Kiara, moving fast enough to shock all of them. One second he'd been standing behind Lilian, staring at her deliciously tight derriere, and the next he was invading Kiara’s personal space, his face flushed red and his eyes glazed over in barely-concealed lust. His nostrils flared like a horse, and several gallons of blood seemed to shoot from his nose, splattering along the ground and the pervert’s shoes and pants.

  “Huh?” Lilian stared at the copious amounts of carnelian liquid pouring from the perverted boy's nostrils. “I didn't know that happened in real life.”

  “Me neither,” Kevin admitted. He also stared at the blood spouting from Eric's nasal cavities like a geyser. “Just where is all that blood coming from?”

  “I’m not sure…”

  Lilian reached between her cleavage and pulled out a book, The 100 Rules of Anime, and began searching through it.

  “Let’s see… I know it’s here somewhere… ah! Here it is!” Lilian coughed into her hand, and Kevin paid attention to the girl as she spoke. “Rule number eighteen, the Law of Hemoglobin Capacity: the human body contains over twelve gallons of blood, sometimes more, under high pressure.”

  Kevin stared, a lot.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yep.” Lilian put the book back into her Extra Dimensional Storage Space.

  “Well…” Kevin eyed the blood that was still spraying from Eric’s nose. It looked like twin jet streams shooting from a fire hydrant. “… I guess that makes sense.”

  “Right.”

  Kiara stared at the nosebleeding boy with a look that said, “if you don't get out of my face right this instant, I'ma punch in your face in.” Kevin could even imagine her speaking like some kind of Yakuza thug. How emotive.

  Naturally, Eric ignored this look.

  “Your tits might not be that big, but you've got an ass to die for!”

  Kiara's right eye twitched.

  Kevin, on the other hand, simply facepalmed. He knew where this was going.

  “Those shapely legs, those buns of steel, they're absolutely amazing! Please let me rub my face in them!”

  “Gotta give the perv credit,” Lilian said, “At least he asked.”

  “I'll give him credit if he survives this,” Kevin retorted, “She looks pissed.”

  Indeed, Kiara looked incredibly pissed. Her face was mottled with color and Righteous Feminine Fury. Her clenched hands were shaking, and blood slowly leaked out from between her fingers as her nails dug into the flesh of her palms. The woman was more furious than anybody there could possibly comprehend.

  And when an inu yōkai got angry, things broke.

  So did people.

  Which was why, seconds later, Eric was lying face first on the ground, unconscious, his body twitching in pain. Kiara stood over him, a livid scowl marring her face as her dark, hooded eyes glared down at the boy. A very large lump had formed on his head, and two white bandages could be seen on top of it, crossing each other to form an x.

  Lilian leaned into her Beloved and cupped a hand to her mouth. “I thought the lecher was a boob person,” she whispered. Kevin shuddered, but did his best to ignore
the hot breath hitting his ear. “So why is he after her butt?”

  “Eric is the kind of person who will perv on anyone he thinks is hot,” he whispered back. “He's one of those equally opportunistic pervs.”

  Lilian nodded in understanding. “I see, so he's that kind of person.”

  “Yep.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Secrets don't make friends, you know.” No longer glaring at Eric, Kiara focused on the two before her. Walking up to the pair―and stomping harshly on Eric's back as she did so―she stopped directly in front of the two, placing her hands on her hips. “Sharing a lovers secret, are we?”

  While Kevin blushed a bit, Lilian finally seemed to realize that there was an attractive female standing in front of them; one who knew her mate to boot.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at the admittedly attractive woman. Sure, her breasts weren't that big―certainly nowhere near Lilian's own sizable bosom―but she still had an attractive figure, and she was athletic to boot. That business suit of hers was rather form-fitting, and anyone with a set of working eyes could see the lean, athletic body she possessed beneath.

  The sight of another attractive female, and one with a body-type similar to Lindsay's, sent Lilian's possessive kitsune instincts into overdrive. She was not going to allow this other woman to try and get in good with her mate. There was enough competition for his affections already!

  “I never did tell you my name, did I?” Kiara looked amused by Lilian's obvious display of jealousy. “The name's Kiara. Nice to meet ya.”

  “Kiara,” Kevin muttered. Why did that sound so familiar?

  “And how do you know my Beloved?”

  “Lilian,” Kevin groaned. He didn't know what was going on, but he recognized that tone. It was the same one that she used when addressing Lindsay.

  “We just met at the store a while ago, and he gave me his opinion on some products I was looking to buy.” Kiara smirked at the girl. “Don't worry your pretty little head. I have no intentions towards your boyfriend. I don't hit on taken men.” She looked over at Kevin, who sputtered incoherently at the taken comment. “Plus, he's a bit too young for my tastes.”