The Billion-Were's Foxy Forever (The Billion-Weres Book 3)

by Georgette St. Clair

  “Mom!” Savannah hissed.

  “Oh, hello, dear! Back already? Did you collect the bounty? How did it go?”

  Savannah leaned against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “It went terribly. We lost our mark. No money.”

  “What? You moron!” Jessamine screeched.

  “Thank you, I didn’t feel bad enough already.” Savannah shot a disgusted look at her sister and then turned away.

  Her mother’s face fell. “Oh dear.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” Savannah heaved a sigh. “I was thinking of a way with a lot more four-letter words.”

  “But of course I didn’t raise you that way.” Her mother smiled gently and went back to chopping onions.

  Jessamine made a very loud raspberry noise. “Yes, you did – she swears all the time.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the dark queen of tattle-tales,” Savannah sneered. “Oh my Goth! You know what? The nineties called and they want their T-shirt back.”

  Jessamine narrowed her eyes at her older sister. “Well, if it isn’t the plump princess of datelessness. The eighties called and they want that joke back.”

  “Say, Jessamine, where it says over-easy on our breakfast menu, why did they use a picture of your face?”

  “Twatmuffin,” her sister snapped.

  “Slutbucket.” But Savannah wasn’t really feeling it today. Normally she’d be chasing after her sister and trying to strangle her, but she just didn’t have the heart at the moment.

  “Savannah! Jessamine!” Her mother slammed her knife down on the chopping board. “I will wash your mouths out with soap. You think I won’t? Watch me.”

  That was a legitimate threat. It was amazing how fast the short, chubby little shifter could move when she was mad, to say nothing of how strong she was. Savannah suppressed a shudder at the memory of the taste of soap burning her tongue. She had not called her sister a See You Next Tuesday since that day.

  “Sorry, Mom, it won’t happen again,” Jessamine muttered, and hurried off. She paused in the doorway and pretended to scratch the side of her head, giving Savannah the finger before flouncing out.

  Savannah ignored her sister and glanced through the kitchen window into the dining room. “I’m sorry too, but Mom. You are feeding the entire town for free.”

  “Of course I’m not, dear. They’re doing chores!” her mother said reprovingly. “The Haymarches are going to pull some weeds later. Probably.”

  “Chores won’t pay our debt,” Savannah said, with perhaps more bite to her tone than necessary. “Can we pay the Lord of All Foxes in chores?”

  But still. She had a right to be upset. This restaurant was her family heritage.

  Five years ago, when their father had suffered a horrifying injury at the jaws of a hunter’s trap, they’d been forced to turn to the wealthiest fox family in Washington State. Algernon, the self-titled Lord of All Foxes. He was a shady character who owned a trucking company and was suspected of smuggling all kinds of illegal goods.

  They’d needed money to pay for a wolf healer to help their father, and wolf healers might help their own kind for free, but when it came to foxes, they charged big bucks. The mutation that had created shifters had failed to gift the fox species with healers.

  So they’d borrowed a hundred thousand dollars from Algernon, at an insane interest rate, and used it to pay the healer from the Crescent Moon pack up in the northeast area of Washington.

  It had spared their father a lot of pain, and it had brought them a precious year of their father’s life. It had been worth it.

  But they’d had to put up their property as collateral, with a balloon payment at the end of the payment term.

  And since their property was right off the main, secret, shifter-only road that ran from Washington State to Minnesota, it was an extremely valuable way-station. Algernon was salivating over it. They’d tried to re-finance, but no shifter bank wanted to go up against Algernon.

  “Well, I could go tell the Haymarch family to stop eating,” her mother sighed. “Poor little Joey. He was so excited.” She peered out the window. “It was the first food he’d seen in days. He said grace first, before he started eating. Such a polite little boy. He’s only halfway done. Shall I take his food away from him, or do you want to do it?”

  “Oh, good lord!” Savannah threw her hands up in despair. She knew when she’d been licked. She did a deep, fake bow. “I should have known better than to go up against a woman who’s got a black belt in the art of manipulation.”

  “Yes, you should have,” her mother smiled, her eyes twinkling. “And I know that secretly, underneath that tough-girl exterior, you’re a big softie.”

  “Am not,” Savannah muttered rebelliously.

  “Whatever you say, dear. Would it be pushing my luck to ask you to go bring out some of my chocolate silk pie to the Haymarches, and also that nice little Anthony? I’ve got some more onions to chop.”

  Was she serious?

  The frikkin’ Haymarches had never paid for a meal! Ever! She’d tried and tried to make her mother see that they were taking advantage of her good nature, but her mother always just looked at her and blinked innocently. And handed out more food.

  “Yes, it would!” Savannah shouted at the top of her lungs.

  She turned and marched towards the door.

  Then she stopped.

  She could actually feel two holes burning into the back of her shirt. Her mother’s eyes. How did she do that? She didn’t have psychic powers, and yet Savannah was fairly sure that if she didn’t do what her mother wanted within the next sixty seconds, she’d burst into flames.

  She turned around and glared at her mother. “Fiiiiine,” she gritted out.

  “You’re just the sweetest little thing,” her mother cooed.

  Argh. Had her mother been taking lessons in annoying from Austin?

  “Don’t rub it in. And I hope your cooking skills include roadkill, because that’s what we’ll be eating when we lose our restaurant and our home and have to live in the woods.”

  Savannah picked up the tray full of plates of chocolate silk pie that her mother had set out, and headed to the door.

  Before she made it, her mother called after her, “Is he nice?”

  “Who?”

  “The wolf I smell all over you.”

  “Mom!” Savannah cried, scandalized. Her cheeks were catching fire. Blazing red. She could feel it. Why was the floor not opening up and swallowing her? Why, floor, why? Trapped in the kitchen, holding a tray of pies for the biggest mooches in Fox Hollow when she wanted to just smash those pies in their faces, and having her mother quiz her about her non-existent love life. Was this what hell felt like? She doubted it. She couldn’t imagine Satan being quite that mean. “It is not like that! I mugged him for his keys, in fact. It was a work thing.”

  Her mother shrugged and started chopping green peppers. “All right, dear, as long as there’s a reasonable explanation. Not that I’d be against you dating a wolf, mind you. But I’d be very upset if you were dating someone and not telling me about it.”

  “No worries,” Savannah growled. She pushed the swinging door open with her foot.

  “Because I would need to check up on him, his family, his friends, and the neighborhood he lives in, of course.”

  “And that is why I’m going to die single. Hopefully really soon,” Savannah muttered.

  “I heard that!”

  Savannah hurried across the room and began handing out plates with pie slices to the Haymarches.

  When she walked over to Anthony, who was wiping pizza sauce off his face with a paper napkin, she snapped, “Every time you work here, food disappears. You slack off on your work and take like six lunch breaks every shift. We are a business, not a food bank.”

  Anthony, a wiry fourteen-year-old with a generous splattering of freckles on his face, grabbed the last pie plate from her hands. His mother was a drug addict and had multiple burglary convictions,
and Anthony seemed at risk of following in her footsteps. He’d been suspected of shoplifting and was banned from most of the stores in downtown Foxhaven.

  “Your mother’s a lot nicer than you.” Anthony smirked.

  “She is a lot nicer than me.” Savannah scowled. “That’s why you don’t want to push me too far, because unlike her, I will whip the tar out of you.”

  Anthony crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. She smacked him on the side of his head, hard.

  Savannah’s mother yelled from the kitchen. “I saw that! And you’re not too old for me to ground, young lady! You tell that nice little boy sorry!”

  There was only so much crow Savannah could eat in one day. With a muttered curse, she walked out of the room with all the dignity she could muster, which was not a lot, given that her cheeks were still flaming red and she apparently reeked of wolf. No, even worse, she reeked of Austin.

  But as she walked onto the diner’s front porch and saw who was pulling up, her heart sank.

  Nope, she was not done eating crow today.

  Because Algernon’s Hummer was parked in the parking lot, and he, his son Marvin, and his bodyguard Sylvester were strolling towards the diner.

  Algernon wore a custom-tailored, pin-striped navy-blue suit, and he and his son had both slicked their hair back with generous amounts of gel.

  Gross.

  She couldn’t believe she’d dated Marvin, once upon a time. Apparently Marvin had a thing for chicks with big boobs, which she did indeed possess. And she’d been flattered that a rich, good-looking guy like him had showed an interest in her.

  Algernon grinned at her, baring sharp little teeth as he rudely shoved in front of the Dimwoody family, stepping up onto the porch in front of them. Great. The Dimwoodys were among their few regular paying customers.

  “Just surveying my new property.”

  The Dimwoodys backed off, staring warily. Everyone was intimidated by Algernon and his men.

  She felt her temper rise. “One month. We have the paperwork.”

  He ignored her. “I’m going to go inspect the kitchen, so it better be clean. And go get started on some steaks. Medium rare.”

  “No,” Savannah said loudly. “Not until you pay your bill for the last half dozen times you ate for free.”

  Algernon’s face went red with fury. Customers were walking out onto the porch now, to see what was happening. In a tiny, gossipy town like Foxhaven, this was better entertainment than TV.

  “What did you just say to me?” he screeched. Sylvester let out a low, menacing growl.

  “You heard me. This is a restaurant, not a soup kitchen.” Well, that wasn’t strictly true, given how her mother insisted on feeding half the town, but a bully who rubbed his wealth in everybody’s faces and was charging them twenty-five percent interest on their loan didn’t get the benefit of her mother’s generosity.

  Herbert hurried over, wheezing, holding his axe.

  “You okay there, Savannah?” he asked, his voice hoarse and wavery.

  Oh God. If he even tried to fight, he’d likely keel over and die from a heart attack before anyone threw the first punch. She tried to wave him off. “Fine, Herbert, nothing to worry about here.”

  “You best move along, old man, unless you want me to shove that axe right up your ass. And it won’t be the handle end,” Sylvester snapped.

  “There’s no reason to use that kind of language in front of a lady,” Herbert said indignantly.

  Sylvester lunged towards him and snarled, letting his fangs descend, and Herbert dropped the axe and turned and ran, his shoulders hunching in humiliation. Marvin shrieked after him, “You better run!” and he and Sylvester high-fived and guffawed.

  “Get off her property! You’re trespassing!” Anthony’s shrill voice sounded behind her. He hurried down the steps to stand next to her.

  “Oh look, it’s the son of that slutbag from the trailer park.” Marvin’s voice turned nasty and gloating. “That bitch has gone down on everything but the Titanic.”

  Anthony’s face went red, and his gaze dropped to the ground. It hurt because it was true. His mother worked the rest stops along the shifter highway. She did tricks for drugs. There was no need to rub the kid’s face in it, though.

  “Watch yourself,” Savannah warned.

  “She’s had more nuts in her mouth than a squirrel.” Marvin howled with laughter and slapped his knees.

  Savannah felt rage sizzling through her. Anthony balled up his fists, and she could see tears burning in his eyes.

  “She’s taken more loads than a washing mach— awwwk!” Savannah lunged forward and grabbed Marvin’s throat with her hand.

  Sylvester raised his hand to slap her, and she lashed out and kicked him in the crotch without letting go of Marvin’s throat. He let out a yelp of pain, doubled over and vomited on the ground.

  “Let go of my son!” Algernon screamed, his voice gone high, but he didn’t make a move to help him. Because he knew that if he tried, she’d knock him ass over teakettle.

  She gave a hard squeeze, then released Marvin, who staggered back, face flushed with humiliation. All the customers from the restaurant were standing on the front porch now, watching.

  “You…you man-beast! You’re not even a girl!” Marvin screamed at her.

  She grimaced in distaste. Ugh. She had actually dated that. Gross, gross, gross.

  And the insult hardly stung at all. She’d heard it enough over the years. She already knew she was no man’s dream date. She wasn’t soft, she wasn’t weak and helpless, and she could change her own tires.

  “You little bitch,” Sylvester hissed. “I’m going to go talk to my banker about accelerating that timeline. I’ll be in here by next week!”

  He turned and stalked off, with Marvin and Sylvester scampering after him and shooting her dirty looks.

  Savannah’s heart sank. She’d just made things even worse for her family. Her mother, Jessamine, and Niall gathered around her on the porch, watching as the men scrambled into their Hummer and screeched out of the parking lot. Anthony hurried into the restaurant. His face was still red, and he was crying with humiliation.

  “Savannah!” Jessamine wailed, and Savannah resisted the urge to slap her. She was not in the mood.

  “He can’t accelerate the timeline. We have the contract,” she said glumly.

  “If you hadn’t done that, he might at least have let us stay here and manage the restaurant! We could have lived in our house!”

  “Yeah, and he would have charged us so much rent that we’d have gone broke and had to move out in a few months anyway.”

  “It would have bought us some time! Why are you so damn sensitive? Someone hurts your feelings and you just have to show them that you’re the boss bitch, don’t you?” Jessamine yelled.

  Savannah bit back a snarky response. She was in the right here, but she also knew that everybody in her family was on edge. They’d tried so hard to save the restaurant. This nightmare had hung over their heads for the last five years, day in, day out, and after working sixteen-hour days and scrimping and saving, they were still going to lose everything.

  “Language,” their mother said reprovingly to Jessamine. “There are kits here.” She flicked a glance at the children standing on the porch with their parents.

  Savannah gave her mother a woeful glance, and her mother stroked the side of her face, with a soft, gentle, wordless murmur of sympathy.

  “Mom, why aren’t you angry at me?” she asked.

  Her mother gathered her in her arms, and she was warm and soft and smelled of home cooking. “Because, dear, your heart’s in the right place.”

  “Too bad your head’s up your ass!” Jessamine snapped at her.

  Savannah shook her head glumly. Even the sight of her mother chasing Jessamine across the yard, with Jessamine screeching in panic, wasn’t enough to cheer her up.

  Chapter Three

  Two days later…

  The orange orb o
f the sun boiled up out of the horizon, floating in a sea of fire. Sharp lances of yellow-white sunlight stabbed through the trees, bouncing off Austin’s windshield and nearly blinding him. Tension twisted inside his gut as he negotiated a winding curve, heading out of Greenville.

  Apparently everyone wanted a piece of him these days.

  His niece, Serafina, had texted him, begging him to come visit their pack lands in Hidden Hills, North Dakota – or let her come visit him. His brothers, Cliff and Grant, were at each other’s throats all the time over stupid pack issues, and it was driving her nuts.

  Austin had a soft spot for Serafina, whose parents had been almost as vile as his own, and he was glad that she was going away to a shifter college in South Dakota next year.

  He’d had to tell her no, which had left a bitter taste in his mouth. But she should get used to life without him. After all, he was a wolf whose days were numbered.

  And Cliff had been texting him for the last six weeks, with increasing urgency. Austin’s relationship with Cliff had always been strained. He’d ignored the texts. Whatever Cliff needed or wanted, Austin couldn’t help him.

  And then three hours ago, his friend Tully had called him six times in a row until Austin finally answered the phone. Tully’s pack, the Pebble Creek Pack, was in the far northern part of Washington State, but he was driving south to meet Austin. It couldn’t wait.

  He felt something sour brewing in the pit of his stomach. He suspected that Tully had found out about Austin’s little episode in the grocery store. And since Austin was still technically a member of Tully’s pack, Tully had no choice but to come down here and deal with it.

  When Austin had first started having hallucinations, he’d gone to Korbin, the healer of the Crescent Moon Pack. The healer had told him there was nothing that he could do for him – and he’d predicted Austin’s grim path. Increasingly bad hallucinations and violent, uncontrollable outbursts.

  Oh, he’d tried to be helpful. He’d urged Austin to fight it as hard as he could. Told him what exercises he needed to do to keep the madness at bay for a little longer.

  To buy himself some time.