Page 82 of Old Secrets

Skin, bone, and muscle tore, accompanied by a spray of blood. Satisfied he wouldn’t bother me until I had a chance to confirm my kill, I went for a new target. By size and the fit of her robes, I determined her to be a female. She threw her arm up to defend her head and face, and I accepted her offer of an easy place to close my fangs on to, once again jerking my entire body to knock her off balance.

She fell, and I hauled her over the stones before releasing her to aim for my next target, her exposed throat.

Memories of attacking others in such a way roused, along with something far older but sweeter—a woman with golden hair and skin, who had taught me how best to dispatch my prey with my teeth, using dolls better suited for my diminutive size to teach me the theory.

I gave a shake of my head to break her neck and dispel the memories, the old secrets locked in my head.

There would be a better time to pursue them and learn their importance, sometime after the dust settled and the blood dried.

The first blasts of gunfire echoed through the mountain, and after the first shots rang out, more joined in. As I had no interest in becoming a target, I chittered, angled for the nearest bastard still standing, and latched on to his leg and dragged him away from the primary mass of bodies. Bullets ricocheted against stone, but my father lifted his hand higher, and rather than bounce, the projectiles sank into the rock. Some came disconcertingly close to me, but numerous rounds thumped into my victim, who ceased struggling to escape my grasp.

I dropped him, seized the back of his neck, and gave a shake to make certain he wouldn’t get up again.

One charred husk, smoking and clothes still aflame, slumped to the ground and illuminated the cavern in a flickering, dying light.

Jake huffed, dropped the body he’d been busy tearing to shreds, and came my way, his ears twisted back.

I chittered, and he responded with a snarl and a snap of his teeth.

I put my paw on the body I’d finished off, issuing another chitter.

Making use of his larger size, he shouldered me off the corpse and showed me the back of his throat, his only warning he’d try to engulf my entire muzzle in his mouth if I pushed my luck.

One day, I might understand why we picked fights right after a hunt, but if he wanted a brawl, I’d be happy to give him one. I went for his nose, landing a rebuking nip before swatting him with a paw.

I took some care to keep from tearing up his beautiful coat, although we’d earn more than a few bites and scratches by the time we finished with each other.

He backed a few paces, charged, and plowed into me, rolling me over to begin his assault, and as always, I rose to the challenge, chittering false threats of doom and destruction. Then I gave it my all, understanding I would lose as usual, all thanks to practice and a few extra pounds of muscle in his favor.

It took my father grabbing Jake by the back of his neck and my mother, along with several of my aunts, making use of their combined weight to separate us. He snapped his teeth, and I chittered back.

“What has gotten into them?” my mother asked, her tone exasperated.

Mellisa laughed at us, crouched in front of me, and gave my chest a brisk rub. “This is a thing they do after a hunt, and I encourage it. They’re working out their nerves. She’s energetic, and Jake only romps like this right after a hunt, so they take it to extremes. After they shift, you won’t be able to separate them without a great deal of whining. They like to go to the other extreme and indulge in calm activities. Karma, it’s time to settle down. We need to make certain none of that blood is yours. There were a lot of ricochets before your father softened the rock. Jake, were you hit?”

Jake shook himself off, and after a moment, he presented his hind leg and pointed at a spot with his nose.

The fire witch abandoned me to separate my mate’s fur, searching for the injury. “A graze at worst. The bullet didn’t hit anything important, nor did it get lodged in the muscle. You’ll do. If you can help without nipping your mate, you can help me check her over and groom some of this blood out of her coat.”

Jake turned his head, and he huffed.

I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want to lick the blood of our enemies out of my fur any more than he did.

“I’m sure they don’t taste that bad,” Mellisa muttered, shaking her head. “Rabten? Can you conjure enough water to clean their coats?”

“Of course. Amrita? Would you like to help as well? The children are quite filthy.”

My mother nodded, and she held her hand over my head. A curtain of water crashed down, and she went to work rubbing at my coat, adding more water as needed to get the blood out. My aunts joined in, and I stood still for them, enjoying the attention.

My father tended to Jake, and after a few moments, some of the former cultists scurried up and offered to help. I eyed the group, but while my father hesitated, he nodded and made space for them.

I didn’t expect my parents to remain friends with their enemies, but at least they would, for a time, have some peace.

It would do.

Epilogue: “Your Eminence, why shouldn’t I kill you for this?”

There was something satisfying about camping out on Charles Desmond’s front step with an entire skulk of foxes heralding in the apocalypse with a chorus of vixen screams. The males of the group hung their heads, as we’d made a variety of threats if we couldn’t indulge in our base instincts and make a little noise.