“Well,” Gunner answered, neither overtly agreeing nor disagreeing. He was fully dressed now, cloth covering every delectable surface before I’d had a chance to really see any of it in the light. “Are you ready? We’re less likely to wake the household if we go out the back.”

  Chapter 38

  The snow had nearly melted by the time our headlights swept across the face of the abandoned theater, illuminating the marquee. The Importance of Being Earnest. Were even long-ago playwrights giving me tips on how to live my life now?

  “I brought a crowbar,” Gunner started, then swore beneath his breath as a police cruiser came toward us from the opposite direction. I’d never known the cops to have such a presence in the Warren, but perhaps they figured an event serious enough to make the local papers merited a follow up visit...or three.

  So we couldn’t park out front as originally intended. Instead, we continued past our destination and waited to pull into a side alley once the police car was long out of sight. We hugged the shadows, walking like octogenarians on the way back as the previous evening’s tight muscles and scabbed-over wounds hindered our progress. But aches and pains were forgotten when Gunner slipped his crowbar under the edge of a board-covered window, prompting me to stop him with one hand lightly touching his arm.

  “That’s going to be crazy loud,” I protested, remembering the awful screech of a pried-up nail the one time I’d tried—and failed—to make our shabby apartment a little bit spiffier.

  “Alternatives?” Gunner countered, cocking his head and waiting for me to come up with another way in.

  Rather than answering, I tilted my chin to gaze at the barely-visible stars, trying to remember when I’d started telling alpha werewolves what to do. And as I forcibly relaxed my neck muscles, I caught a square of darkness in the third story, a broken window too high for the owner to have bothered boarding up.

  “Look.” I pointed upward, only realizing as I did so that neither a human nor a wolf would have even considered making such a climb.

  But Gunner had already seen firsthand what I was able to shift into. So I ignored decades of conditioning and spoke openly about my secret for the very first time. “It’ll be easy to get up there as a fox. Then I’ll come downstairs and let you in.”

  I expected Gunner to growl at the overtness of my offer. But, instead, his voice was almost too level to be natural as he answered me after a short pause. “You’ll fall.”

  “I won’t. The climb is easy. Especially if you give me a boost onto that ledge.”

  There was something flowing between us that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, and I held my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. But instead of acting the way I’d always been told werewolves would respond to my foxishness, the alpha merely waved one hand. “Be my guest.”

  Which is when I remembered the prerequisite for donning red fur. Getting naked. Right here in front of Gunner, with no other eyes present to depersonalize the effect.

  It took three throat clearings before I managed to spit out the solution. “Turn around,” I demanded.

  Gunner was amused, I could smell that in the air between us. Still, he obeyed me, and I quickly slid out of Allen’s jogging suit and Kira’s sneakers before assuming my animal form.

  Only then did I realize my companion had been peeking. Caught the glint of his eyes skimming across my completely un-wolf-like fur and body. The contact was nearly tangible in its intensity....

  But Gunner didn’t growl or move to attack. Instead the big, scary alpha werewolf got down on one knee and offered his left arm as a ramp leading up onto his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll give you a leg up.”

  I SLIPPED THROUGH THE window as easily as if I spent hours every day four-legged rather than donning my fur once every other blue moon. No wonder Kira seized every opportunity to frolic as a fox. Light-assisting vulpine pupils made it a breeze to scamper through the upper story in near darkness, and I barely managed to force myself back into human form upon reaching the closed door at the top of the stairs.

  Thumbs, I reminded myself. Doorknobs require thumbs.

  Shivering out of my fur, I came to stand two-legged atop the rough floorboards. And, at first, I thought the goose bumps breaking out on my skin were the result of unheated air brushing up against abruptly furless skin.

  But my seldom-utilized animal nature refused to go back to sleep now that it had been wakened. And the stairs yawned dark and cavernous before my dilated eyes.

  Shaking off the strange case of the willies, I tiptoed down without calling upon my star ball for illumination. There was always a slight chance an enemy remained in the building, or that one had returned after the police sweep to mop up curious foxes like myself. Better to stub my toe than to arrive heralded by the glow of a magical flashlight....

  Unfortunately, walking blind resulted in more than toe stubbing. I was halfway down the stairs when my heel brushed against soft fur in the darkness. And I’m ashamed to admit I emitted a rather feminine “Eek!” as I leapt a foot into the air.

  The mouse—it was only a mouse—ran chittering into the darkness. Get a grip, I told myself firmly. After multiple police sweeps, the theater was unlikely to house critters larger than a rodent.

  So I pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs at a normal pace and strode directly out onto the back of the stage area. Huh. This wasn’t where I’d expected to end up when I started down the stairwell. Still, I was here, so I might as well poke around a little. Grab the laptop. Maybe even head up to the catwalk and collect my discarded clothing so I didn’t end up facing Gunner a second time in my birthday suit.

  But the laptop wasn’t present. Instead, the thinnest trickle of sound caught at the edge of my consciousness as I batted aside dusty curtains and got down on my belly to peer at the floor below the stage. I didn’t even realize I was hearing something, actually, until I found myself humming along to a tune from both my distant and recent past.

  Mama’s music box. For the first time all night, my teeth sharpened into the fox equivalent of a werewolf’s hunting instinct and I padded silently toward the dressing rooms from which the trail of melody had emerged.

  He’d come back. Of course the serial killer hadn’t depended upon an anonymous computer voice to make contact. Not when my vulpine curiosity was bound to bring me here before the sun rose....

  Which meant I was finally going to get a chance to vanquish Kira’s kidnapper, to ensure that my sister never again worried when she walked the streets alone.

  There was a light before me now. The flickering glow of a candle visible as I entered the hallway leading to a series of changing rooms. My prey must have grown tired of waiting in the darkness, choosing to camp out in the room at the end of the line. This was almost too easy....

  I took one step forward...then spun faster than mere human muscles would have been capable of as I felt the presence of something much larger than a mouse materializing behind my back.

  Of course he wasn’t waiting by the candle. Any good warrior knows you feint before you attack.

  Sure enough, the cloaked figure who arose out of the shadows before me was as anonymous as he was dangerous. His face was hidden beneath a pitch-black hood, the enveloping fabric preventing me from telling anything other than his height—which, as usual, was considerably taller than my own.

  But I didn’t spend long trying to eke out the being’s identity. Because he held in his hand the root of this entire hassle—my mother’s star ball converted into a glowing sword.

  Chapter 39

  “The light distraction was clever,” I admitted even as I brought my own magical weapon up into an on-guard position. “But you can’t sneak up on a fox.”

  Predictably, my enemy failed to answer, just lunged forward with speed that proved he was more than human. And even though my well-honed reaction should have been a parry, some instinct told me to twist out of the way instead.

  Dodging, unfortunately, wasn’t the best move against a sword-wielding opponent. But at least I managed to twist far enough away so his blade snagged a lock of hair rather than slicing through living flesh. And as I pivoted in preparation for the hooded figure’s next movement, Mama spoke for the first time in over an hour.

  “Even monkeys fall from trees.”

  “I am being careful,” I hissed in response, wishing my dead mother would speak plainly and tell me what I was missing here. Was I just jumping at mice when I chose not to engage with my attacker...or was there a real reason not to counter his lunge with my sword?

  Unfortunately, I had no time to prod at my mother’s ghostly warning. Because my opponent was dancing sideways in a move far too similar to Mama’s signature sidle to be coincidence. And I found myself backpedaling rapidly while memories flowed fast and furious through my brain.

  The park. My parents. Swordplay and laughter, practice merging into dancing. Dad was straightforward and powerful, light on his feet but not the best feinter if you were familiar with his favorite moves. In contrast, Mama’s motions were akin to a leaf dancing along invisible air currents, totally erratic for those of us unable to see the wind.

  And this person before me was moving just like Mama had. Was twisting and leaping so mercurially I didn’t know where he was going to end up next. Only my vulpine senses helped me dodge a second blow, and this time my enemy’s blade flicked sideways just in time to nick my bare hip.

  It burned. Not like the usual slice of a blade through muscle; more like running into a flaming torch with the sensitive skin of a cheek or a hand. Was this why both Mama and my gut had both warned me not to touch the stolen star ball? Had Kira’s kidnapper tapped into kitsune powers I wasn’t even aware of...or was there something deeper at work?

  As I pondered, the figure before me drifted sideways, forcing me to pivot to keep him in my sights. Or should that be “her”? Because with the cloak covering my opponent’s body, there was no way to tell whether I faced a tall woman or an average-height man. The only visible flesh was long fingers wrapped around the sword hilt, and even those appendages could have belonged to a member of either sex....

  Suddenly, I had to know who my opponent was. If Mama’s sword bit me again in the process so be it. But I couldn’t keep fighting while wondering whether this being might be the parent I thought long dead.

  So I went on the offensive. Eyed a folded chair leaning against the wall as I skipped sideways. Then took a running leap, using the top of the chair to fuel my forward motion before pivoting midair to aim toward my opponent’s head.

  The chair clattered against hard floor tiles. And, vaguely, I noted the sound of a crowbar prying at a window-covering in the distance, the result just as teeth-clenchingly loud as I’d known it would be.

  Looked like Gunner had lost patience and decided to break in after all. Not good news with cops patrolling the street.

  I didn’t possess a single spare breath, though, to suggest that Gunner cool it on the screeching. Because Mama’s sword was swiping toward me, proving the error of my original plan.

  After all my trajectory had been decided by the way I’d pushed off the wall seconds earlier. No amount of twisting or flailing of my arms now would send me scudding sideways to prevent my opponent’s blow from hitting home.

  So I did the only thing I could think of. I shifted midair, flickering into my smaller fox form and sliding unharmed under the sword thrust before landing atop my opponent’s cloth-covered head.

  AS I REGAINED MY EQUILIBRIUM, the sword whizzed past so close that it nearly nicked one of my long red ear tips. Air buffeted, claws dug for traction, and Mama screeched inside my head: “The broken mirror cannot be made to shine!”

  If I’d possessed human vocal cords, I would have yelled back that it was unhelpful to toss out oblique warnings to someone in the middle of a pitched battle. But, instead, I scrabbled at the fabric beneath my pads, yanking the hood with my teeth then leaping away before my enemy could decide whether it was safe to bring that stolen blade closer to his or her forehead.

  And this time, my move was successful. I didn’t glance back over my shoulder to peer at my receding enemy, but I could feel the hood fluttering down upon my tail as I darted away. Soon, I’d know exactly who had bought my mother’s star ball then paid Ma Scrubbs to have my sister kidnapped....

  Unfortunately, my opponent only laughed in reaction to being disrobed. And I could see why as I spun back around, understanding at the same time why the evidence of amusement had come out so muffled and low.

  Because my enemy had taken his or her cover-up seriously. Beneath the hood was a black ski mask, the only flashes of humanity revealed by my action being two dark eyes and a tiny circle of a mouth. Meanwhile, I spat out the bitterness of baking soda, understanding why I’d failed to pick up even the barest hint of an odor while standing on my enemy’s head.

  The laugh itself might have been a clue, but unfortunately I wasn’t that lucky. Instead, the low-pitched sound was entirely androgynous even as my opponent continued to chortle beneath his or her breath.

  And this time I’d had enough. Jumping upward into humanity, I staggered once due to the speed and frequency of my recent shifts. But then I was screaming out my anger, sword raised as I mimicked a samurai swooping in for the kill.

  I was done with caution. It was time to use my skills to take this enemy down.

  Chapter 40

  “Mai!” Gunner’s voice threaded toward me through the otherwise empty building. Vaguely, I noted that my recent yell might have sounded like pain rather than aggression to a distant werewolf. But I could ease the alpha’s worries later. For now, I had a fight to win.

  Spinning on the balls of my feet, I dodged beneath my opponent’s sword, continuing to pretend my only impulse was defense. It wasn’t, though. Because I’d stopped worrying about my sword touching my opponent’s the moment I lost my temper. Which opened up an endless array of opportunities in the fight ahead.

  In the end, I chose the simplest game plan—feigning a stumble in order to bait my cloaked enemy to attack. Predictably, my opponent responded just as I’d expected. He or she easily bypassed my flailing sword arm then lunged toward my left shoulder. All I had to do was wait until the last moment then raise my own weapon in three...two...one....

  “No!” Mama started, the word perhaps the beginning of a proverb or perhaps her first attempt at giving it to me straight.

  And then images flickered behind my eyeballs. Mama on her deathbed, hands shaking as they reached out to fold my much smaller hands around the hilt of a sword so similar to my own. “This is yours now. Keep it safe until your sister is old enough to understand its power.”

  Even though the memory was twelve years old, I still remembered the tingle that ran through me...and the way clinging to Mama’s glowing star ball had eased my grief over the months afterwards. Because while my mother’s physical body had faded into absence, her spirit had remained beside me for more than a decade. The warm security of her presence had wandered afield to help Kira shift at frequent intervals, but it had always flowed back in my direction whenever I cared to call.

  Except the warmth was fading fast now that I actively fought against that beloved connection. The chill began in my feet and quickly engulfed my entire body as I placed my own sword right where it needed to go to slice Mama’s star ball violently aside.

  I tried to mitigate the offensive at the last moment, understanding too late that magic works on intention first and foremost. I’d launched this attack from a place of rage and hatred, and that might just be enough to finally split my dead mother and me apart.

  Which wasn’t at all want I wanted. I hoped to cling to the tiny fragment of Mama’s undying spirit, to keep her close and listen to pesky proverbs if that was the only way she could communicate from beyond the grave.

  But my change of heart came too late. Two thin streams of magical weaponry met for the very first time with a bell-like tone rather than with the usual clang of reverberating metal. And as they did so, an electrical jolt racked my body, the shock hitting me one instant before the connection to my mother’s memories winked abruptly out.

  I hadn’t appreciated what I possessed until it was gone, I now realized. Hadn’t appreciated how much I depended upon Mama’s silent—and recently not-so-silent—presence to buoy me up. Had I thrust her spirit into the void without a life boat? Or—worse—was she now being forced to empower my opponent, a free spirit turned into a prisoner within the enemy’s cloaked form?

  No wonder the hooded figure’s eyes crinkled with pleasure. No wonder my muscles turned to water even as my opponent’s hardened into stone.

  The shock at losing a part of myself that I hadn’t fully realized was present loosened my grip until it was all I could do to cling onto my sword as I was pushed backward against the wall. I couldn’t even struggle. Lacked the presence of mind to duck down and out of my opponent’s grasp before being pinned by someone considerably larger and stronger than myself.

  I was trapped between a serial killer and a hard place....

  Then I was spinning sideways. My neck whiplashed, my limbs flailed in a vain attempt to catch my balance.

  And when I came at last to stillness, the back of my skull was pressing hard against the floorboards while I peered up into the panting face of a tremendous male wolf.

  Chapter 41

  The werewolf’s breath was hot against my forehead, his teeth inches away from the soft spot beneath my chin. No wonder I shifted into fox form, depending on animal instinct to wriggle free before I could be eaten alive.

  But the wolf was having none of it. He grabbed my newly materialized ruff and shook me so severely my teeth clattered together. And even after I was suitably chastised, the male continued standing stiff-legged atop my crumpled body while a deep growl rumbled up out of his massively broad chest.