The Heart of a Fox

by T. Isilwath

  “It is not my responsibility to assuage the foolish notions of a human girl,” he replied, a smug smile on his face.

  “Foolish notions? You knew he was alive!”

  “What I did or did not know was irrelevant,” he answered simply.

  She was furious. An arrogant stranger had robbed her of hope, and now he presumed to tell her that what he had done had been of no consequence.

  “Irrelevant? How can knowing he was alive be irrelevant?” she seethed.

  “Did it matter? You did as I expected you to do and returned his ring.” She stopped, surprised, and creased her brow. “Did he tell you that?”

  “As I said before, I have never met him.”

  “But you knew of him,” she urged.

  “I know of many.”

  “Don’t play word games with me,” she ordered, clenching her fists. She was losing patience and a small voice at the back of her mind was screaming that she was being incredibly stupid, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  He chuckled. “I will admit that you have spunk, but I knew you weren’t worthy of him, idiot though he was.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she demanded.

  “He was a lovesick fool. He lives four centuries, his only goal and desire to be reunited with the one that he loves. He lives only to see her again, be with her again, this silly, little, mortal girl. And what happens when he finally finds her and reveals himself to her? She throws all of his efforts back into his face.

  That’s what he gets for falling in love with a fickle child,” he told her, a scathing tone in his voice.

  “I am not a child,” she countered through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, but you are, my dear. You are an infant, a bawling toddler who throws tantrums and expects others to bow to her. I don’t know who is the bigger fool: you or him,” Neramorte taunted, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  “Akihiro is no fool. He’s is one of the smartest and bravest people I know,” she growled, defending her fox.

  “He refused to listen to reason when he was told what would happen. He was warned that humans are unreliable. They have no sense of permanency or loyalty. They lie and are unfaithful. They have weak hearts for immortality.

  And more often than not, by the time you get used to having them in your life,” he brought his face close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath, “they die.”

  She gasped, her eyes going wide. “Get out,” she commanded.

  He gave her a cold grin and pulled away, but he brought up one finger as if to touch her forehead. She flinched involuntarily.

  “No,” he said suddenly, lowering his hand. “I do believe I’ll let you keep that one. Ciao, Bella. Sleep well.”

  “What are you…”

  She didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence before she blacked out.

  When she woke up, her alarm was going off, Norman was knocking on her door, and she had the headache from Hell.

  “Ms. Tindall? Ms. Tindall, are you awake?” Norman called from the hall.

  Groaning, she forced herself to sit up. Parts of her were numb because she had stayed where she had collapsed, and half of her body had been hanging off of the mattress. She staggered to the door just as she heard the jingle of keys.

  ‘What the hell did that son-of-a-bitch do to me?’ she complained as the world spun around her.

  “Ms. Tindall! Are you all right?” Private Begay asked with concern.

  She put a hand to her forehead and blinked away the bleariness. Norman’s worried face came into focus slowly, and she tried to keep the image from going blurry or splitting into two.

  “Bad night,” she explained, turning away and fumbling for her clothes.

  Her hands were numb and she kept dropping things as she tried to get a hold of them. Not even her worst hangover had ever felt this poorly.

  ‘I swear someday I will get him for this.’

  “Did you not sleep well? Were you sick?” Norman questioned.

  “I met someone who didn’t agree with me,” she answered sarcastically.

  She saw him look around the room suspiciously. “Was someone here in your room last night?”

  “Uninvited. Our favorite Italian.” There was no need to say his name.

  Norman gasped. “Did he hurt you? Did he threaten you?” She shook her head. “No. Just was unpleasant company.”

  “I’ll report him to Colonel Pyle. He may be a consultant for the NSA, but he still must abide by our rules.”

  “If you do that, you’ll only be courting trouble. Just let it go.” She could see that he wanted to protest, but then he grew quiet and a far-away look came into his eyes.

  ‘Hmm. I wonder if Ta’ahl is adding his 2 cents’ she thought, grabbing her jeans.

  “All right, Ms. Tindall, if that’s what you want,” he finally said, shaking the blank expression off his face.

  “It’s not a matter of what I want. It’s a matter of what is the safest course of action. In this case, doing nothing is the best thing to do.”

  “If you’re sure…” he said hesitantly.

  “I’m sure.”

  She gathered up some clean underwear and went into the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right out,” she told him, and closed the door behind her.

  Ten minutes later they were headed down to breakfast, but she found herself fighting nausea at the smell of food.

  “Do you have a headache, Ms. Tindall?” Norman asked.

  They were seated at one of the long tables in the mess hall, and she was leaving her food untouched in deference to putting her head in her hands.

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “My skull feels like it’s about to split open.” He grunted and dug in one of his pockets, pulling out a plastic bag. He fingered through its contents until he selected a piece of dried plant.

  “Here, Ms. Tindall. Chew on this. It will help.”

  She gave the brown stick a skeptical look. “What is it?”

  “Bear root. It is good for headaches and infections. Bear is strong Medicine. It will help you.”

  She gingerly accepted his offering and tore off a bit with her teeth. It was bitter, but not unbearable. “Thanks.”

  He smiled and returned to eating his eggs and sausage. She had opted for oatmeal and whole wheat toast, and she knew she had to eat at least some of it.

  Thankfully, the bear root was also good for nausea, and she was feeling better about twenty minutes later. Her oatmeal was stone cold by then so Norman graciously got her another bowl which she was able to eat.

  Afterwards, they went back up to her room, packed up her things and headed down to the depot to pick up a vehicle. She was still moving slowly because, despite the relief offered by the bear root, she still felt sore all over and very out of sorts. Norman was solicitous and stayed close. She was glad for the attention because half the time she wondered how she was still standing with how awful she felt.

  ‘Whatever that bastard did to me hit me hard,’ she thought darkly.

  In the depot, there was a single sedan in the standard black with dark, tinted windows usually reserved for shuttling high ranking officers and politi-cians. Norman left her while he spoke to the solider on duty, and he came back with the keys for it. She was grateful for the soft, comfortable ride. While the standard Army all terrain vehicles were fine for most driving the soldiers had to do, their suspensions weren’t the greatest, and with the way she was feeling, she’d take anything she could get.

  “Will you get in trouble for not taking a Jeep?” she asked him as they left the military reservation.

  “Only if someone finds out. The guy on duty is a friend of mine. He said no one was scheduled to take this car out today, and he’ll cover for me. If anyone asks, he’ll tell them its out for detailing or something,” he replied.

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  “It’s obvious that you are in great deal of discomfort. Are you certain Neramorte didn’t hurt you?”


  She sighed. “I’ll live.”

  “I really would prefer it if you let me file a report. He entered your room without permission, and he obviously hurt you in some way,” he complained.

  “Trust me. It’s best for everyone if you just forget it. I’m not permanently harmed. I just feel like someone’s dragged me through the mud for a few miles.”

  “I tried to warn you that higher level spells would be less pleasant to deal with,” he said, and she knew it was Ta’ahl speaking instead of Norman. The switch had been so seamless that she had missed it completely.

  She looked at him questioningly, but he had his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel. Norman drove with one hand and usually looked relaxed.

  “Don’t like driving?” she asked with amusement.

  “It is a skill I have little opportunity to practice. But you are changing the subject. Neramorte used a higher level spell on you.” She put a hand to her forehead. The bear root had worked reasonably well, but her head was still pounding.

  “I guess,” she admitted. “But this time I remember everything.”

  Ta’ahl snorted. “Because he wanted you to.”

  “He called you something… a sketh.”

  “Hmm,” Ta’ahl replied, but did not elaborate.

  “He called you a worm too.”

  “I’m not surprised. His kind looks down on mine.”

  “From what I can gather, he looks down on everyone. Humility is not a trait he possesses.”

  Ta’ahl’s jaw tightened. “No. Tell me what happened.” She wanted to tell him, she really did, but even if Neramorte knew about Akihiro, Ta’ahl and Norman didn’t, and it wasn’t her secret to reveal.

  “I can’t. He came to my room to talk to me about something that had happened between me and another person.”

  “Does it have anything to do with why you no longer wear your engagement ring and why you cut your hair?”

  She swallowed and let her head fall back to the comfortable seat. “Yeah.”

  “Whatever it was, you made him angry.”

  She blinked. “What makes you say that?”

  “He used an offensive spell on you to knock you out. It is the equivalent of a boxer getting TKO’d. That’s why your head hurts, and you feel like you’ve gone eight rounds with Erik Morales. You only cast a spell like that when you’re defending yourself or when you’re mad. Did you insult him, perhaps?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, he was angry about something. It’s best if you try to figure out what it was before you meet him again. He’s not someone you want for an enemy.”

  “I’m not sure he’d make a great friend either,” she quipped, but she understood what he meant.

  He was right, though. Mr. Black Death had been ticked off. The truth was she didn’t know why. She certainly hadn’t said anything inflammatory to him.

  Well… except for the ego comment, but he hadn’t reacted to that.

  ‘No. He was angry about Akihiro. He was mad that I had rejected Akihiro…’ she suddenly realized. ‘Why would he be angry about that? He told me he never met him. Why would he even care? Unless… unless he did care, and he was disappointed in me because I gave Akihiro back his ring. But he said that I’d done what he’d expected me to do. Was that why he wanted me to think Akihiro was dead?’

  “He lied to me. He made me think someone I loved was dead.”

  “So you have said, but I doubt he lied. More like he misled you with a ge-neric statement?”

  “How did you know that?” she blurted, raising her head again.

  “Lying is a human trait. Very, very few of us ever lie outright, and those of us that do probably have more human than non-human blood.”

  “Dishonesty is dishonorable,” she said, recalling Akihiro’s view of the subject.

  “Exactly.”

  ‘Akihiro insisted that he’d never lied to me…’ “So you always tell the truth?”

  “Yes, but I may leave things out if the situation warrants. Sometimes it is a delicate balance.”

  She nodded. Some things made more sense now. She let her head fall back to the seat and turned her eyes away to look out the passenger side window.

  “I guess it is,” she whispered, sadness and realization coming to her.

  “You should rest, Ms. Tindall. We have a five hour drive ahead of us, and it would help you if you slept. The effects of the spell will wear off better if you don’t tax yourself.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, but she was thinking about something Neramorte said.

  ‘I wasn’t worthy. Akihiro had lived over four hundred years to be with me again and I rejected him. And Neramorte knew that I would. He knew that I was lacking, that I’d throw it back in his face. God…’

  It was horrible and she knew it. She had been thinking of calling him again once she got back to her grandmother’s, but now she thought the better of it.

  Now he was free to find someone who could accept him for what he was.

  She wasn’t worthy. Maybe she never had been. The reality was harsh and biting, and it made her feel that much worse.

  ‘How could I have been so cruel to him? Am I such a terrible person that I would do something like that to someone I loved?’ She remembered when he took off the choker and how shocked she had been. ‘I’d spent the better part of a week mourning him as dead, and he was right in front of me the whole time.’

  She snorted. ‘But I had every right to be upset with him! For eleven years he was living under an illusion, and he never told me!’

  She shifted in her seat, huffing softly as she tried to get comfortable.

  ‘All that time and I never had any clue… But… Elisi was right. He couldn’t tell me, could he? If he had, then… then it would have changed the past. If I had known beforehand that I was going to be sent back in time, then things wouldn’t have happened the way that they did. If I had known all along that I was going to be rescued, I wouldn’t have done half the things I did. If I’d known I was going to be attacked by a giant spider…’

  She frowned and shifted again. ‘Okay, I would definitely have liked some forewarning on that. But the rest of it…’

  She realized that Akihiro had been a in a terrible position. He’d known what was going to happen, but was powerless to stop it. ‘He must have felt so trapped and helpless. The only thing that probably kept him sane was knowing that he was going to be there with me. What he must have been going through…’

  Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to stop them, lest Ta’ahl see her.

  “I’m going to put you to sleep, Ms. Tindall. Is that all right?” Ta’ahl said gently, proving that her attempt to hide her pain had failed. “It’s a mild spell and won’t cause you any more discomfort.”

  Yes. Sleep and forget. Maybe that was the best thing for her anyway.

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

  ‘I doubt it,’ she thought, then the darkness came up and pulled her down.

  ********

  He’d returned. He had spent several days cocooned amid his closest friends; the ones who knew and kept his secrets. For so long he had lived only to be with Joanna again, and to now be set adrift… His world had shattered in a matter of moments, and he had no idea how he would ever put it back together.

  He’d made it as far as Virginia, running blindly in his true form with no regard for his own safety. How he had managed to get to Maria and Isabelle’s, he didn’t know because he had no memory of making the trip. Isabelle had found him pressed against the gate, the charm they had given him the only thing keeping him from being annihilated by the shields around the property.

  He’d been exhausted, incoherent, his clothes in tatters and his feet bloody.

  Adrian had been called and he had flown down. It took him over a day before he was conscious enough to tell them what had happened, and he was glad that no one gloated or said “I told y
ou so.”

  They’d been cautioning him for years, saying that anyone would be shocked to find out that the person they loved was not who he seemed to be, but he had ignored their warnings. He knew his Joanna (or so he had thought), and she would never reject him. Oh how wrong he had been.

  They’d nursed him for days, walking softly around him, letting him mourn his loss. They made sure he ate and kept him safe, even from himself. Adrian had held him as he’d howled, the deep pit of grief opening up underneath him.

  For them there were no words to say.

  After a week, he finally began to pull himself out of it, to sort through what was left and try to decide what to do. Isabelle said he should cut his losses and start over somewhere else, but that was just what she would say because Izzy had no time for those who hurt her friends. Both Maria and Adrian preached caution and the pitfalls of doing something rash.

  His gut reaction was to just leave everything behind. He could always go to his uncle in New York or go back to his people in Oklahoma. Even though the last Fox Woman had died (his own mother, the human woman who had raised him when he became Michael. Her death had been a sacrifice he had not anticipated.), he still had family in Indian Territory who would be happy to see him.

  But there were people he knew in North Carolina to whom he owed at least a goodbye. His friends, his co-workers, his employer who had been so understanding when Joanna had disappeared, his cousin who had accepted him into his home, and Elisi who had been a grandmother and mother to him from the moment he’d met her. The old woman hadn’t been surprised when he’d revealed himself, and that had made him admire her even more.

  And he owed Joanna a goodbye as well. He owed her the opportunity for both of them to have some closure so they could each move on. Now that the timeline had reached the point where he no longer knew the future, he needed to make sure that she would be okay without him in her life; if that was what she truly wanted. Maria and Adrian had both encouraged him to face her again after some time had passed. Perhaps distance and a separation from each other would allow her to resolve her anger and be willing to talk to him again. They assured him that not all hope was lost even if things hadn’t gone as he had planned.

  So he had returned. Adrian had dropped him off under the cover of night, and he had let himself into the apartment he had shared with his vixen. Once Adrian was gone, he was left in the dark apartment alone and the silence roared in his ears. His vixen had been there, but the scent was old. He tracked it around the apartment, tracing her last steps.