The little white fox lies curled with its nose tucked in its bundle of tails and its long ears folded against its head. Its fur looks silky soft, and without even thinking I reach towards it and run my hand over the curve of its back.

At my touch, it awakens, lifting its head and blinking bright black eyes at me.

Familiar eyes.

"Kit? Is that... you?"

The fox gets to its feet, stretches its front paws towards me in a low bow as it yawns, and then spins in a quick little circle, chasing its tails. Then it sits before me again, its many tails arrayed behind it like a fan, and transforms.

In its place, Kit kneels before me, as prim as the little fox, with his hands resting on his knees. Disconcertingly, the fan of tails continues to wave at his back a moment before he tucks them away with a self-conscious blush and they vanish.

He smiles shyly, sharp teeth glinting at the corners of his mouth, his dark eyes veiled by golden lashes and his dusky cheeks tinged bronze.

"Good morning, Monty," he says.

"Good—"

I choke on nothing and cough.

When I can speak, I wipe my eyes and blink at him. I might not be as bright as Noah or Freya, or have Dane's quick instincts, but I don't need to be a genius or a detective to know something strange is going on. I've never heard of a Shifter with more than one form before — or of a fox with more than one tail.

"Kit, what the hell...? What happened last night?"

"You claimed me, Monty," he says happily, and glances up to meet my eyes. "I'm yours now."

"What does that mean? And what in the hell are you, anyway?"

His expression dims. "You aren't pleased?"

"Pleased?" I squint and rub the side of my brow. "I'm damn confused, Kit. Help me out here. Like, are you a Wolf, or a fox, or a... a whatever this is?"

I gesture at him and he blushes, ducking his head to hide his face.

"Forgive me, Monty. I never meant to deceive you."

"What do you mean, 'deceive' me?"

"I... I don't have a wolf form. I can make myself appear larger, though. I hoped, in the darkness, a very large fox would look enough like a wolf, you would accept me as such."

I sigh, thinking Dane won't be too thrilled to hear this. "And the tails? Are you mutant or something?"

Keeping his head lowered, he whispers the answer to his knees.

"Alpha Obadiah said it's because my father wasn't an ordinary Shifter. He was a 'demon fox.' That's why I need someone to claim me; Alpha said that unless I have a human master, my fox's soul will leave me, and I'll die."

"Your dad... What else did the Mortaines tell you about him?"

Kit shakes his head. "I learned not to ask."

I scrub my hand over the back of my head and sigh. If Kit is a demon, I'd thought Sam would have known; then again, Sam himself has impressed on us that 'demon' is a catchall word for a lot of things the English language lacks the proper terms for.

"So what happened last night?"

Kit shakes his head. "I don't know. I... I had a dream that I was lost in a forest, as a fox, desperate and alone. And when I woke, I couldn't catch my breath. My heart raced, and it felt as if I couldn't hold on to anything. I realized it had to be the claim. I'd weakened it by running away, and then... it must have broken."

"And, uh... what about just now? Why'd I wake up next to a fox? I mean, you're cute an' all, but I'm not really into the whole, uh, 'ears an' tail' scene."

I smile, but Kit looks as confused as I feel.

"I didn't mean to Shift. It must have happened in my sleep. I've never had this feeling before. I don't know the word for it."

He blinks at me, and to my dismay I see tears start at the corners of his eyes.

"But it's a... a good feeling?" I ask, concerned.

He nods, twisting his hands in the coverlet between his knees. "It feels like... 'safe,' and 'home' and... and 'happy.'"

I glance away and pinch my lips together to suppress my own feeling, which is a twist to the heart that he should find such things so unfamiliar. He makes it really hard to be mad at him.

"Okay," I say after a moment of thought. "So, you an' I might not have the answers, but I think I know someone who will. Let's get dressed."

I throw the blankets aside and stand, stretching my arms wide and cracking my back.

"Where are we going?" Kit asks, sounding a little worried and scared.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see him still kneeling at the foot of my bed. I can almost see his fox-form overlaying his human one — the ears and tails, the snowy fur and bright black eyes. I blink and he's honey-haired and olive-skinned again, though the eyes remain the same.

"The bookstore," I say. "Come on."

~ ☾ ~

"A kit-what-say?"

I blink across the small table at my brother, who pushes his glasses up his nose and turns the book he's consulting towards me.

Kit sits at my right, and together, we lean forward to inspect the page.

On it, a stylized painting shows a man staring up in shock as a woman transforms into a fox.

"Ki-tsu-ne," Noah repeats. "Intelligent, long-lived, shape-shifting foxes from Japanese folklore; though the earliest legends originated in China. Foxes are the most widespread land predators, you know."

"Oh, um. No, I didn't," I remark unnecessarily (we love our Noah, but he is a bit of a nerd).

We're in the strange little bookshop he manages while the snake-lady who owns it is away, seated around a little table littered with books. He'd gathered them from various places in the maze-like arrangement of shelves. I'd asked how on earth he knew where they were, given there were no labels in sight, and he'd explained the semi-mystical nature of the store.

Apparently, people don't always get what they want here; they get what they need.

"Well," Noah continues, "legends of kitsune are many and varied; there's no one, definitive text. Most agree on a few things, however."

He reaches for another book and opens it, flipping through to the appropriate page.

"Kitsune occupy a liminal space—a place on the edge, if you will. They both are, and are not, supernatural creatures. They have magical abilities, and yet they belong to the natural world."

I raise a brow at my younger brother.

"And... in English?"

Noah takes a breath and sighs.

"They're... foxes." He shrugs. "Any fox could be a kitsune, basically, according to the lore. Most look like regular foxes, too; only the more powerful ones have the nine-tails form. However—"

He picks up another book and flips through the pages.

"Most kitsune who take on human form seem to be female — fox-wives, or fox-maidens. They trick men into marrying and mating with them, bear their offspring, and then turn back into foxes and disappear. Mostly, the children of kitsune are foxes themselves, but sometimes they're humans born with kitsune souls. I didn't come across any stories of a male kitsune having children with a human woman — or a werewolf, for that matter."

"Anything about 'claims'?" I ask.

Noah shakes his head.

"Unfortunately, no. The closest I could find is the belief that some people — magicians or witches, basically — can control foxes like demon familiars. Being a 'fox-owner' was an accusation once lodged against people or families with suspicious amounts of luck and success; usually by jealous people with less of such things. That's the skeptical view-point, anyway."

I nod. For a werewolf, Noah is surprisingly skeptical.

"And the, uh... the 'non-skeptical' view?" I prompt.

Noah looks from me to Kit, and frowns.

"Legends and reality seldom align," he says, "and the people who write books about such things are often several steps removed from true events. I suppose for the moment, I'd rely on instinct, Monty. Kit is a kitsune — no doubt about that — but otherwise, we have no facts." He sighs and looks at Kit. "Unless you have anything else to add."

Kit bites his bottom lip, and two pearlescent tears slip down the slopes of his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I wish I knew more."

Compelled to comfort him, I reach over and rub the spot between his shoulder blades.

"No worries, Kit. It's not your fault."

Noah frowns at him thoughtfully. "Would you like to pick out some books of your own, Kit? Maybe the store will give you something interesting, and it could help you learn to read at the same time."

Kit brightens at that, and Noah shows him how to browse the shelves.

Once he's thoroughly absorbed with this, Noah comes back.

"What about you, Monty?" he asks quietly. "You feel any different?"

I frown and shake my head. "No, not really."

Noah glances towards Kit, but he's off in the far corner of the store.

"There are a few other things about kitsune I didn't bring up," he says. "Sometimes, they're said to have succubus-like qualities — being that they're usually portrayed as female — and feed on sexual energies. Another thing is that they usually don't have the ability to learn or take on human form until they're 100 years old. I don't know if there's any truth in it, and given he's a mix, it's hard to say how Kit might be different, but... Well, it's possible he's still immature, for a kitsune."

"And?" I can tell there's something else he wants to say that he's holding back.

He chews his lip and adjusts his glasses again. "If he hasn't even come into his full abilities, it's possible this 'claim' thing is psychological. If his family held that over him as a threat — that if they abandoned him, he'd die — and then used it as an excuse to basically traffic him... he might need to believe it's real. Which, in the case of a kitsune, might make it real. They're tricksters and illusionists, Monty. They can bend reality, make you see and experience things that aren't there."

I glance at him sidelong. "Kinda like... dragons? Or fae?" I ask pointedly.

He flushes with embarrassment, and I push back my chair and stand.

"Don't worry, Noah," I say. "It's not like I'm in love with him. I'm just looking after him a while. And real or not, if he needs to feel he belongs to me in the meantime, that's okay with me."

Noah nods, not meeting my eyes, still looking like his cheeks could catch fire. "I'm just saying to be careful."

I take pity and reach over to ruffle the top of his neatly trimmed hair. "Hey, you know me," I say, smiling so he sees I really do appreciate his concern. "I'm always careful."

~ ☾ ~

Over the next few days, Kit settles in. He's a constant, but not unwelcome, presence, accompanying me everywhere I go. He helps me pull weeds in my garden, and watches as I practice my blacksmithing skills. He even comes with me to babysit my niece and nephew, where Julian eyes him with suspicion until he delights the babies with his little fox form and lets them play with his strange bundle of tails.

To my pleasant surprise, Dane isn't that upset by the news that Kit's not a wolf, after all, and in fact seems more relaxed than he had before.

He's a quick learner, too, and by the end of the week he can read the books on vegetarian cooking he picked out from Noah's shop.

He learns to cook my favorite foods, too — lasagna, cheesy enchiladas, rice and beans, and stir-fried noodles, among other things.

He even makes a batch of chocolate-chip cookies to bring to Chloe and Grace's barbecue feast.

The afternoon of the party, we drive over to their house and find nearly everyone else already arrived. Dane and Julian live within walking distance, of course, and Ian and Sam always like to get there early to help out. They brought their mechanic friend, Carlos, along as well. He's a handsome, lanky guy with a pony-tail who moved here recently and set up a shop.

Chloe and Grace have a few of their friends over, too — regular, human friends, whom I haven't met before, as I warned Kit. No turning into a nine-tailed fox, in other words, no matter how much Luna and Luca might scream for it.

Only Noah and Ambrose have yet to arrive, but they drive up just as Kit and I are walking towards the house. Noah looks a little more rumpled than usual, and Ambrose looks smugly pleased about something.

I roll my eyes to myself. Noah's a lot better at standing up for himself than he used to be, but it still seems like his dragon-man gets his way, most of the time.

Their golden retriever catches up to us first and runs circles around us both, barking at Kit, who gasps and clings tight to my side, startled by the sound.

"Dougal! Enough of that!" Ambrose shouts sharply, and the dog yelps and runs back to him, head lowered and tail swishing in canine apology. "Sorry," Ambrose says, and winks at Kit as he and Noah join us. "Must'a smelled a fox."

Kit blushes bronze, and I shoot Ambrose a warning glower. He tends to speak his mind, and it isn't always appreciated. He smiles back at me, flashing bright, sharp teeth.

I feel a twinge of concern for Grace's human guests, but I soon see there's little need; some of them seem nearly as eccentric as Ambrose. One is a person with blue hair and a plump, androgynous physique, and another is a man wearing fresh-picked flowers in his beard and a shirt that announces he brews his own beer. The last are a pair of women — one who looks like she lifts weights and the other with a soft, round face — who are obviously too in love with one another to notice almost anything else.

Nobody could fail to notice Grace's cooking, though, and soon we're all seated around the long picnic table on the lawn, stuffing ourselves with delicious food: barbecued meats (and tofu for me and the blue-haired person), corn on the cob drenched in butter, potato and macaroni salads, coleslaw, and fresh hot biscuits.

And, of course, blackberry pie.

Kit seems a bit overwhelmed by it all — the food, the talk and laughter, the new faces and the attention — and occupies himself primarily with Luna and Luca. He seems to have taken as much a liking to them as they have to him, and helps to feed them their little spoonfuls of food.

When the sun sets, Grace lights pretty paper lanterns with real candles inside, and Chloe serves everyone pie and home-made vanilla ice-cream. We're all about to dig in, when Dane's phone rings.

"Urgh, don't answer that," Julian groans, as Dane fishes it from his pocket.

Dane's face lights when he sees the caller ID, though, and he taps the green button to answer.

"It's Freya," he says to Julian.

"Our sister," I whisper to Kit. "You'd like her."

"Frey, what's up? Please don't say you need me to bail you out of jail again," Dane says, only half laughingly. As a bounty hunter, Freya has a knack for finding trouble.

He listens for a moment, and the relaxed happiness on his face vanishes with alarming totality, leaving his expression hard and grim.

"Hang on," he says, and then rises from the table and walks away.

Everyone watches, quiet with anxious concern, as he paces at the edge of the lawn, speaking in low, urgent tones, one hand bunched in his bundled hair.

A few minutes later, he ends the call and comes back. From the bleak look in his eyes, I know whatever it is, the news isn't good.

"Dane?" Julian's on his feet and goes to his mate, reaching to touch his arm. "What is it? Is Freya okay?"

"Yeah, Frey's fine. It's uh..." He swallows and looks at me and Noah. "It's mom and dad. There's been a fire, and... Well, it doesn't sound good."