Page 3

Sunlight streams through the tiny rectangular window on my side of the trailer. My kitsune stirs inside of me, eager to start our morning. Since I sleep in the nude, it isn’t hard to do a partial shift in bed.

Partial shifting is something I do often. It’s the best way for me to stay in control of my body. Trust me, an unexpected shift can be dangerous for a creature people want to hunt down. Over the years, I’ve figured out the safest ways to keep my little beast at bay.

Since I’m used to hiding my kitsune, letting my tails and kitsune ears out as often as possible is the easiest, most effective thing I can do for myself. Today, I let out all nine of my tails and wiggle my ears as I stretch. My inner fox stretches as well.

In this form, I can hear the trickling coffee pouring from the Keurig, indicating that River is up. It’s not often that I meet someone who wakes up before me. As a warrior in Faerie, we were always taking advantage of the morning hours.

River pads around quietly. I’m pretty sure he’s adding an ungodly amount of sugar and cream to his mug as I hear the spoon clink against the ceramic.

The memory of a flustered River has me chuckling. Gods, the way he thought he accidentally invited me to his bed last night, and the fact that he ran away to go read, only to forget his book? Fucking adorable.

Shifting back into my human form, I pull on a clean pair of leather pants and one of my tunics. As much as I would like to playfully tease the human with some skin, I need to make sure I’m on time for my meeting with Seven and Indy.

I push my sliding door open and step into our shared area. Since my “room” is only the guest bedroom, my space is a lot more limited than River’s. Most of my items are in a hidden closet next to the TV in the middle of our trailer.

As predicted, River is sitting on the sofa with his feet tucked under him, his nose buried in a paperback, and his steaming cup of coffee on the end table next to him. He’s handsome as ever, with his blond curls falling forward, dark blue jeans, and a gray shirt that makes his green eyes pop.

He doesn’t look up to greet me, but I see the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. Is he thinking about last night?

“Good morning,” I singsong. My kitsune bounces in my chest, also happy to see the human.

Easy now, he isn’t for us. The fox spirit growls in disagreement as they push against my ribcage.

River’s eyes stay focused on the page he’s on. “Morning.”

Padding over to the Keurig, I frown. Some fae have an aversion to modern human technology because it somehow clashes with our magic. Apparently, I’m one of them. It doesn’t happen often, but let”s just say, the Keurighates me.

It should be a simple place the coffee pod into the machine, close the lid, and press start, but every time I’ve tried, the pod explodes, loose grounds everywhere. Or hot water overflows onto the counter. I genuinely want to throw the damn thing away when River isn’t looking, but I’ve become quite fond of coffee since arriving here.

I pull River’s empty pod out of the machine and toss it in the garbage, before wetting a washcloth and cleaning off the counter.

“You don’t need to do that,” River grumbles. “I’m a grown adult. I can clean up my own mess.”

“Aw, Riv, that’s okay. I’m right here. I don’t mind,” I say, tone teasing. When I lived in Faerie, my camp was always on the move, even with only a moment”s notice. So, I’ve fallen into the habit of ‘clean-as-you-go.’ I didn’t even realize I was cleaning up his mess.

River’s jaw works, his posture tense, but he doesn’t bother to look my way. I take his silence as acknowledgment and continue to rinse off his dishes before placing them in the tiny dishwasher. At least the dishwasher seems to like me.

Once I’m done, I focus on the handsome human. I continue staring at him until he finally pries his eyes away from his book.

He squirms under my gaze before cocking one thick brow in question. Why the hell was it so hot when he did that? River gives my body a slow up-and-down perusal before he turns his eyes back to the paperback in his lap. “Is that the only outfit you own?”

I grin at his clipped tone. Fuck, he’s so fun to rile up, I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t know why he acts like he hates me. Rhea reassured me when we first moved in together that his aura didn’t indicate any real negative feelings toward me. If he did, I’d stop. But since then, I might have made it my temporary mission to get River Lowe to smile.

“What’s wrong, darling? Don’t like my clothes?”

“You look like a damn pirate,” River grumbles.

“Don’t humans have a thing for sexy pirates?” I quip.

He flips a page. “Never said you looked like a sexy one.”

Smiling, I make my way to the hidden closet near the mounted TV. I unlatch the hook on the door and open it. River peeks over the top of his book. He has a full view inside and can probably see all my items, but that’s okay, I have nothing to hide.

“I’m going shopping later this week. What do you recommend?” I face the inside of the closet, giving him my back. “What kind of clothes do you think would make me sexy, then?”

When the silence goes on for too long, I peer at him over my shoulder. River is back to studying his book, but I don’t miss the way his cheeks are even redder than before. I turn back toward the closet and marvel at the idea of giving someone my back. It’s something I never would have done in Faerie. Always having to be ready for an attack, it’s better to keep everyone in sight. It’s safer that way.

Pulling out my wooden box that’s spelled to only open under my touch, I pry the lid off and trace a finger over one of the blades inside. Every day for the past hundred years, my morning wouldn’t start until all my daggers were in their proper place on my person.

It’s crazy to think that I don’t need to wear them here in the human world. I tried leaving them in the box once since I arrived.

I didn’t last an hour.

Should I try again? I’m not necessarily in danger here. Or at least not enough to warrant being armed with weapons. The Ringmaster and Rhea have reassured me that kitsunes were safe here.

“Do you plan on murdering me in my sleep?”

I jerk my hand away from the dagger. Ah, shit. River. I might not have anything to hide, but I’m pretty sure humans don’t react well to people dressing as if they are about to go into battle. How the hell do I explain this? I’ve been so careful to arm myself without River seeing, but apparently, I let my guard down in front of him today. Something I never did with anyone but Sorren.

I should tell him they don’t mean anything.

“Would you like to see one?” I ask instead.

He places a piece of paper in his book and sets it down. “Sure.”

Carrying the box over to him, I sit on the sofa and hand him the container. I pull out the first dagger, and he gasps when he sees the intricate details of the handle light up under my touch.

“Was that magic?”

I nod. “These are faerie daggers. I’ve grown quite fond of them.”

“May I?” he asks, holding his hand palm up. He leans in closer to me and, just like last night, our thighs are pressed together.

When I place the dagger in his hand, his eyes widen as his hand dips under the weight.

“The handles are made from a special tree that can only be found in a particular forest in Faerie. See these details?” I point at the blue spellwork etched into the handle. “It’s a spell that helps the owner handle them as if they are practically weightless, making it easy for me to throw with almost perfect aim.”

“They are stunning. Why do you have them?”

“To protect myself. My kind is rare.”

River’s jeweled eyes meet mine. “So you are paranormal. Are you fae?”

“Half-fae.”

“And the other half?”

This is the part where I usually pull away. I hide my identity. Keep my secrets close to my heart. But I feel this strange pull to River. I want to tell him. I’ve never wanted to tell anyone what I am. The only other person I’ve told so freely is, ironically, River’s brother, Indy. But that was only because I knew he was fated to Seven.

I study River’s questioning eyes. This is different. For some reason, my kitsune is keen on trusting him. And if I’m being honest, I want to tell him.

River misinterprets my silence. “Oh shit, is that too intrusive? I’m sorry. I’m still trying to get used to the idea of this whole paranormal thing.”

“No, it’s okay.” I rush to reassure him. This is the first time we’ve been on equal footing rather than our fun banter. My kitsune yips and twirls, encouraging me to open up to River. What was it about this man that caught my inner fox’s attention? “I’d like to tell you. I feel like I can trust you.”

“You can,” he nods eagerly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m sure people will find out sooner rather than later. And, well, Seven has reassured me that the magic of the circus wouldn’t let anyone with ill intentions live here. So, I know I’ll have to trust that eventually…” I pause. “But my kitsune is telling me I can trust you.”

His green eyes widen. “You’re a kitsune? As in a trickster fox from Japanese mythology?”

My lips twitch. “So you are familiar with the yōkai?”

River’s eyes dart away before giving me a sheepish look. “I, uh, have a thing for anime and manga.” He blushes again, scratching his back.

Adorable. I would say so out loud, but I get the impression he might punch me if I do. “Other than having a similar fox form and multiple tails, we aren’t the same as Japanese lore. I believe we adopted the name from the Japanese culture, but I am still a creature of the fae, and was born in Faerie.”

“That’s fascinating that the fae gravitated toward the Japanese name. Did you know that fox spirits were actually first recorded in Chinese lore? They are called the Huli Jing in China, the Kumiho in Korea, and in Vietnam they are called the H? ly tinh.” River glances up at me with a shy smile. “Sorry. I kinda have a thing for fox lore.” That damn blush is back.

My kitsune swirls with happiness inside my chest. It”s kind of a turn-on that he likes kitsune for the pure trivial side of it, and not just because he wants to use me for my magic. “Don’t worry, little human, unlike the Kumiho, I’m not an evil spirit here to eat your liver.” I chuckle.

The digital clock on the stove flickers to 12:01 PM, and I realize I’m late for my meeting with the ringmaster. “Mind if we continue this conversation later? I’m actually supposed to meet with someone right now,” I say as I stand.

His eyes narrow, and I see the moment River’s mask slides back into place. He pushes my box against my chest with a frown. It’s not forceful and doesn’t hurt, but it was enough pressure to show he isn’t happy with me. What just happened?

Before I can question things, River’s phone rings, and I immediately recognize the ringtone as the one he’s been avoiding. Without saying a word, River gets up and walks to his bedroom before sliding the door closed.

Slowly, I glance down at my daggers. My fingers itch to arm myself. For a moment, I think about refraining, but at the last minute, I place three daggers in their hidden spots. Three is better than six. Baby steps.