Fox Hunt Read online

  “It’s nonnegotiable, David. Either someone accompanies you, or you don’t go.” Mom pulled out her councilor voice. The one that sent lesser shifters running for cover. It didn’t work so well with me. Mostly.

  “I don’t need your permission to leave the house, Mom.” I tried to keep my tone firm but respectful.

  She and Darren exchanged meaningful looks. He dipped his head, but whether in encouragement, acknowledgment, or agreement I wasn’t sure. I didn’t quite understand their relationship. When they’d first started seeing each other socially about a year ago, I teased her about cats and dogs not being a likely pairing. We were foxes and Darren was a bobcat shifter. She hadn’t gotten the joke, if her unimpressed stare meant anything. Pretty sure Mom used to be able to take a joke, but her sense of humor left about the same time as my dad deserted us when I was a kid.

  Mom nodded briskly and turned to me with her “nonnegotiable” face firmly in place. “You’re right. I can’t stop you from going on these school visits, but I can rescind the offer to pay for your graduate program.”

  “What?” I jumped to my feet, sending my chair clattering to the floor. “No way. We had a deal. If I completed the bachelor’s program at Cody College, you’d foot the bill for grad school. You promised.”

  “You know why you had to stay in Cody, David.”

  Frustration and humiliation rolled through me, but I couldn’t show it. Not now, not when it would prove her point. “It’s been years since I had an involuntary shift. Years.”

  “It’s been three years, not a great deal of time in the grand scheme of things.”

  “And you’ve come close to losing it several times since then,” Aiden pointed out like a jerk.

  “It only happened twice, and things were pretty stressful,” I snapped.

  Darren spoke for the first time. “And what happens when you face some other stressful situation? And when there is no one to help talk you down? Are you going to shift in front of humans and then shrug it off as ‘stress’?”

  I ground my molars together to keep from telling him to stay out of it. As a council member, Darren deserved my respect. As my future stepfather, he deserved more.

  I counted to five inside my head. Ten would have been better to calm myself, but it would have made the pause too long. “I’ll be visiting campuses, not engaging in a cyber war with douchebag scientists. Boredom and highway hypnosis are more likely to be a problem than me sprouting fur in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “You can’t be that naïve.” Aiden looked at me the same way he had when I was seven and had been devastated to find out Santa Claus wasn’t real—a mix of pity and irritation.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He rolled his. “Your little foray into the deep web triggered something—something big enough, important enough, that they immediately attacked. Not an automated reaction, David. No, a person—a highly skilled person—directed that whole data mine. It would be child’s play for someone with that level of skill to find you. If they’d pinged the location before I took it off-line, they could have narrowed it down to the general vicinity.”

  Of course he had to remind me that I’d needed his help when the whole situation had gone to shit. Out of everything, that had galled almost as much as getting caught in the first place. I held up a hand. “The general vicinity is still pretty vast. Nothing on the machine would point to me.”

  “But it would point to Mom. Some of those mined files could even have her address listed.” Aiden looked around, deliberately mocking me. “That narrows things down significantly.”

  My stomach sank a bit. If they looked deep enough to find a location, it would lead them directly to my mother’s house. Don’t get me wrong, Mom’s tough, but the thought of her facing such a group made me twitchy.

  The familiar squeak of rubber-soled combat boots on waxed hardwood floors gave me a little comfort. As head of the Western Division Shifter Council, Mom was constantly surrounded by an assortment of Council enforcers at any given moment.

  Standing felt ridiculous at this point. I sighed, picking up my chair and settling into it. “Look, it’s been six weeks, and the IT gurus’ analysis showed that none of the highly classified info got grabbed. So, really, the threat level can’t be that high.” And yes, I understood that even though the most sensitive data was safe, who knew what the hackers could extrapolate from what they did get? But admitting that didn’t help my case. “I can understand wanting a little extra security on the property as a precaution, but a bodyguard for a campus tour is a bit excessive. There’s nothing to paint the target on me.”

  “You have the right to your opinion. But it doesn’t change the fact that if you want me to pay for your graduate program, you’ll have to do this.”

  “I could apply for grants. Loans.”

  Mom waited, expression bland.

  Yeah, okay, it was a weak argument. A true statement, sure, but she knew I had priorities this year that didn’t include scrambling to secure tuition financing. I needed to prove that I had what it took to become a successful and respected journalist. I was going to be the next Anderson Cooper, and I was already at a disadvantage. Anderson Cooper went to Yale, for crying out loud. I attended a small private college in the middle of nowhere Wyoming known for its biology and wildlife programs. I needed a way to stand out on a national, if not international, level in broadcast journalism. My internship at the K2TV station this summer, while useful, didn’t have the panache of a more prestigious news source on my résumé. Which meant I needed a couple of big, groundbreaking projects this year. Ones that would simultaneously impress the admissions people at a major university and set the tone for my future. I wouldn’t be able to focus on something of that magnitude while hustling for money.

  “Fine.” Even as I gave in to the inevitable, I made a last-ditch stab at asserting my agenda. “But I leave tomorrow. If you can’t find an appropriate babysitter—I mean bodyguard—by then, whoever you get will have to meet up with me along the way. I have seven schools to visit, all of which are on the other side of the Mississippi, and only three weeks to do it before the fall semester starts. There’s not an inch of wiggle room in the itinerary.” Even a day or two of alone time after the last month and a half of narrow-eyed looks, suspicion, and scrutiny would be better than nothing.

  Mom’s smug smile was not reassuring. “It’s a good thing Buddy already agreed, then.”

  “Buddy? Buddy? You’re sticking me on a cross-country road trip with that grumpy-ass grizzly? Are you out of your mind?”

  Mom folded her hands in front of her. “He’ll be here by six.”

  HOLDING my breath, I eased the front door open, pausing to make sure I hadn’t disturbed anyone in the household. I’d timed my escape to avoid running into any of my mother’s guards. They’d have no reason to detain me, but better not to press the issue. No telling what Mom had told them.

  I hefted the first of my two suitcases and set it gently on the front porch before reaching for the next. Then I grabbed the matching duffel bag and looped the strap around my neck so my hands would be free to carry the rest of my luggage. It took me a ridiculously long time to make my way down the porch and around the side of the garage to where I parked my car without making noise.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  I squeaked, dropping my suitcases. The resulting thuds echoed in the predawn silence. Son of a bitch.

  A large figure loomed in the dark, silhouetted in the waning moonlight.

  “Mornin’.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Damn it all to hell…. Buddy Brady. So much for my early, solo departure.

  He stood by the trunk, a boring black duffel bag at his feet, his hands tucked into the pockets of khaki cargo shorts that had probably never been introduced to an iron. A baggy Buddy’s Café T-shirt and brown leather flip-flops completed the rumpled look. Even his hair—dark brown, with platinum tips that were inherited and not salon-based—was a shaggy mess, and
dark stubble shadowed his cheeks and jaw. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and grabbed a couple things from his hamper before heading over here.

  Given the sun was barely a pink glow that hadn’t yet crested the Big Horn Mountains, chances were good that he had just rolled out of bed. Thick brown brows rose, and he pulled a hand free from his pocket to glance at his watch. He wasn’t checking the time, not really. His wry look was more a commentary on the fact that I’d planned to leave at six, and here it was, not even five.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, tipping my wheeled suitcases to stand upright.

  “Waiting for you,” he said in a quiet bass that added an edge of velvet to his matter-of-fact tone.

  “But you’re early.”

  He snorted. “So’re you.”

  Well, yeah, that was kind of the point. I’d had trouble falling asleep, and the more time I had to think, the more convinced I became that my mom and Darren were overreacting.

  I sighed, dragging my bags a little closer, less concerned than I’d been about the noise. The jig, as they say, was up. “How’d you know?”

  He shrugged one massive shoulder. “Just a hunch.”

  “You know this isn’t necessary, right?” I reached into my pocket to click the key fob, releasing the back hatch.

  “Got nothing better to do.”

  I looked up at him. Damn, but he was big. I was tall—exactly six feet—but next to Buddy, I felt positively petite. I had a second to wonder if my Mini, which was small by design—hello, it’s called a Mini—could accommodate his bulky body. It fit me perfectly with my admittedly slimmer frame, but he had half a foot of height, probably a hundred pounds, and double the body width on me. After what seemed like the longest ascent ever, the hatchback finally opened all the way. Before I could reach down to heft my luggage into the storage area, Buddy had a suitcase gripped in each hand and tossed them into the space as if they weighed practically nothing.

  “I can do it,” I said, dislodging the duffel bag from around my neck and jamming it in the narrow space left on top of the larger pieces.

  Warmth prickled along my back and an earthy scent surrounded me as Buddy leaned over me to tuck his own bag in the last of the space. I closed my eyes to better savor the pine-tree-and-granite odor, cataloging each nuanced layer. Then I remembered that this was Buddy and my mother had hired him to essentially babysit me. I straightened my back—and strengthened my resolve—then slammed the hatchback closed.

  “We should work out the details of the trip before we get too far. Work out the rules.”

  My recently straightened back stiffened further. “Excuse me? First, we don’t need to work out any details. I’ve already done so. Second, what the hell do you mean by rules? This is my trip. The only rules are the ones I make. You’re basically a Shifter Council–sanctioned, mother-approved babysitter. Hired muscle.”

  The first golden rays of the sun peeked over the edge of the Big Horns, illuminating Buddy’s stony face. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, lips pursed… my pulse skittered a bit at the anger I saw there. And then the expression morphed into something cooler, more neutral. Might have been a trick of the light, but I caught a hint of something bleaker, some vulnerability that seemed out of place on his face.

  “Rules was maybe the wrong word.” His expression might have smoothed out, but his voice tightened. He cocked his head as though loosening stiff neck muscles. “But there are always things that it’s a good idea to work out in advance. Driving schedule, itinerary, route.”

  “Driving schedule?” Horror washed over me. “No one drives my car but me.” Even the thought of this hulking brute behind the wheel of my baby made me want to encase the Mini in a protective shield.

  “Even professional drivers can only drive ten hours before a mandatory eight-hour break because marathon driving isn’t safe. Unless you intend to do the same?”

  “It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’ll be driving nonstop. I have sleep stops planned each night. I’m not an idiot.”

  A tic in his cheek told me he didn’t appreciate my tone. And sure, it wasn’t fair to take my irritation at my family out on Buddy. Not his fault that he got wrangled into this. But I didn’t ask him to join me, so I wasn’t responsible for making the trip comfortable. Besides, once it became obvious that I was perfectly safe, maybe his annoyance would convince him to abandon me. So I didn’t apologize, even if my conscience pushed for me to do so.

  “Fine. I still need to review the itinerary.”

  He walked around the car to the passenger side door. His movements were surprisingly graceful for such a large man. In the wild, bears tend to lumber along, a clumsy, awkward motion that only seemed to smooth out when they charged. Given his size, I expected something similar. But no, his steps were light, flowing for maximum impact with minimum effort, reminding me more of a running back on the football field than the defensive lineman he resembled.

  I shook my head. I had places to go and people to see, no time to stop an analyze the way some guy—Buddy Brady, for crying out loud—moved.

  I slid into the driver’s seat and pressed the Start button. A second later, the Mini jolted as Buddy crammed himself in. I snorted out a laugh. The seat had been pushed forward, so Buddy ended up with his knees bent at a sharp angle, pressing into the glove compartment. The front of his thighs practically touched his stomach.

  A low grumble came from him at my snort of laughter.

  Somehow he managed to twist farther, reach around and under his bent legs, face practically smashed into his knees. He began to pat at the underside of his seat. And he managed all this without grunting or groaning at the effort. Looked awkward as hell, and he’d bent and twisted in ways I didn’t think I could, even with my narrower build.

  “It’s electric. There’s a little button long the side.” I pointed to his right side, where he’d be able to adjust the seat positioning.

  He unfolded himself as best he could and reached between the seat and the door, searching for the button. I tried not to notice the way his shorts crept up his thigh, revealing heavy muscles and pale skin. There was a distinct line where pale beige skin became rich honey, a testament to hours outside in shorts. There was nothing sexy about a tan line. Except in that moment, there kind of was.

  Buddy’s sigh accompanied the quiet electrical whir of the seat moving back. When it had gone as far as it could, the angle of Buddy’s bent knees had softened. Still looked a little sharper than would be comfortable for a long ride, but that wasn’t my problem. It didn’t stop me from offering, “The other button will adjust the seatback. Might give you a bit more room to maneuver.”

  The seatback reclined a bit. Not enough that it looked like Buddy wanted to nap, but enough that he didn’t appear to be practicing perfect posture either.

  He nodded his thanks. “Better.”

  Things were quiet as we drove past the security gate. I waved at the enforcer on duty, a guy named Brad who’d been with my mom’s detail for the last three years. He nodded at me but didn’t even glance at Buddy. Which reminded me… “How’d you get past the enforcers?”

  “Your mom put me on the approved list.”

  “Since when?”

  His lips twitched. “Since yesterday when she hired me.”

  “But you weren’t supposed to be here until six. They let you in anyway?”

  “Your mother and I talked about it. We knew you’d try something, so I came in earlier.”

  “How did you know? I mean, even I didn’t know I’d head out early until a couple hours ago.”

  “My brothers would’ve done the same.”

  “You know your brothers that well?”

  “I’ve been raising my brothers for the past ten years, and they’re about your age. Close enough it was worth hedging my bets.”

  “And if I hadn’t left early?”

  He shrugged. “Then I’d have stood around in the driveway for an extra hour.”

  I turned east
on Highway14.

  “You going to fill up on gas?”

  I looked at my dash. “I’ve got more than half a tank.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  Huh? “Always. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Then you should know better than to leave town without topping off the tank first. The nearest town is thirty miles away. And the nearest after that is another forty miles. Anything could happen. You should be prepared for any eventuality.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I get almost forty miles to the gallon. I have a couple hundred miles before I even get close to empty. It’s not like I’m driving some beat-up old tank.”

  “And if your gas gauge is off? Please tell me you don’t let it run to empty before you fill it.”

  I shifted a little in my seat. Of course I did.

  “That’s dangerous. Especially in winter. The gauge can freeze, and you’d never know how close you’ve cut it.”

  “Good thing it’s summer, then. Besides, I keep an eye on the mileage.”

  He crossed his beefy arms across his equally beefy chest. “Stop at Billy’s. It’s not too far ahead. We can grab some donuts and coffee there too.”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  We stopped at Billy’s. Not that I gave in to his dark scowls or parentlike pressure. No, I needed caffeine and sugar. Everyone knew a road trip relied on coffee.

  “I JUST realized something.” I’d been watching Buddy from the corner of my eye for the last fifty miles, and it suddenly hit me. “You said you had brothers. I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection. Jonah’s your brother?” I’d known Jonah for a while, mostly through my ex-boyfriend, Owen. And while I knew on some level that Jonah was a grizzly shifter, and that his last name was Brady, it never clicked.