Worth Fighting For

Chapter 3

Misty released the chipmunk she’d captured. She wasn’t hungry. Just restless. Cody was coming over tonight to begin her fighting lessons, and nervous energy filled her. If she hadn’t done something to burn off the excess energy, she would have started cleaning. And once she got started, she’d never be able to stop.

So she’d decided to shift and go for a run, especially since she still had an hour and a half before Cody was supposed to arrive. But now that she was here, surrounded by the forests she loved, boredom set in. Well, maybe bored was the wrong word, but she was still filled with the restless energy she’d hoped to dismiss.

After Cody had announced he would teach her, she’d been elated. After all, how could more time with the man she loved be a bad thing? Not to mention, there’d been something in his eyes and touch the night she’d been attacked. Some emotion she’d never seen before.

But a couple days away from him had allowed the doubts to set in. Yes, she hoped Samantha’s marriage to Jason would pave a path for her and Cody, and yes, she needed to spend time with the man in order to convince him she was perfect for him. But she knew what a miserable fighter she was. Her father had tried to teach her once, before declaring her hopeless and giving up. Having Cody watch her flail around like a landlocked fish probably wasn’t going to make her appear irresistible.

Too late now. Cody had already rearranged his schedule in order to meet with her tonight, even moving his weekly meeting with the elder members of the skulk. It would not only be rude to cancel, but outright inconsiderate. She’d just have to suck it up and look like an idiot. But she supposed if she’d managed to overcome Cody seeing her pathetic attempts to climb the rope in gym class, she’d get over him witnessing her embarrassing fighting skills as well.

A faint cry made her ear twitch as she meandered through the forest. Her ears swiveled, searching for the sound. It came again somewhere to the left. She froze, sniffing the air trying to determine if she was in any danger. The small mewling continued. The pain in the cry broke Misty’s heart. It sounded like a young fox.

Sometimes kids from the local middle school passed this area while playing. What if one of them had fallen and gotten hurt? Her imagination ran wild, picturing the young shifter’s friend running back to town for help, leaving the fallen child frightened and alone.

Her fox couldn’t sense any danger–not that her fox instincts were all that strong. For whatever reason, most of her senses and instincts had never developed as well as most other shifters’ had. The weeping continued, a constant cry of pain and fear. Misty could no more ignore that sound than she could ignore a lost child, which it might very well be.

Following the sound, Misty dodged through the trees until she came upon the source. The scene before her made her freeze. Horror and sympathy rose up inside her, tightening her throat. She swallowed past the lump, assessing the situation. It wasn’t some kids from her skulk, and no one would be coming to help.

Misty tramped down the urge to cry as she watched the baby fox, not a shifter but a full fox, curl up with its fallen mother. She didn’t know what had killed the mother, maybe another animal, or starvation. Perhaps the mother had never recovered from birthing the youth, who looked to be no more than three weeks old. Whatever had happened, one thing was clear, the mother had done whatever possible to protect her child.

The baby fox nudged the mother’s head with its nose, causing Misty’s heart to thud heavily in her chest. No way could she leave the kit here. If he didn’t starve to death, he would be a sitting duck for every predator in the forest. The mother could no longer protect her child, but Misty could. Reason enough to take action.

With stilted steps, she approached the pair. The kit looked up at her, a pleading cry escaping as if asking her for help. Misty tramped down the tears that threatened to fall. She needed to be strong and get this baby to safety. She eased closer, giving the kit time to adjust to her smell so she didn’t frighten it. A boy, she realized, his scent becoming clearer the closer she got.

It wouldn’t be easy to tear him away from his mother’s body. Using her nose, Misty pushed the baby away. Even recognizing the futility, Misty took a moment to nudge the adult fox with her nose. Cold and stiff, as she’d suspected.

Poor baby. She’d lost her mother at a young age, too, but at least she hadn’t been in the car with her at the time. Hadn’t seen the destruction, or been left alone with a cooling body. And she’d had her father to love her.

With a deep breath, Misty turned away from the body, forcing the kit to walk in front of her. Without looking back, she started home. Every now and then, the young fox would cry, breaking Misty’s heart again.

When they got back to her house, she would make sure he had plenty of food and toys. If Cody arrived while she was at the pet store, he’d have to wait.

It was actually kind of perfect. She’d been lonely lately, and thinking of getting a pet. Although she’d never wish this pain on anything, what could be better than another fox to keep her company?

The first thing Cody heard when he approached Misty’s front door was laughter. The kind of laughter that came straight from the gut, borne of pure joy. A sound he’d come to associate with Misty. He smiled as he opened the door and strode into her living room.

The text he’d received earlier had said to come right in, but his confident steps faltered as he saw the cause of her giggles. Misty in human form, sat on the floor with a beaver puppet, playing with a fox. The kit’s eyes were open, but he still possessed his black baby fluff. It couldn’t be older than a couple weeks.

“What is that?”

Apparently unaware of his presence until he spoke, she jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Oh, hi Cody.” She looked at her wrist as if expecting a watch to be there. Why she did that when he could count the times she’d worn a watch in the past two years on one hand, he’d never understand. “Is it time for training already? I’m not dressed, yet.”

Cody looked down at her clothes. Skin tight jeans that looked way too appealing and a black t-shirt with the words Foxy Lady spelled in big pink letters across her breasts. Perky breasts that would fill his hands perfectly.

Way too tempting. Those clothes had to go. Wait. He mentally back-pedaled, rephrasing his last thought. She had to change into different clothes, more clothes. Some nice baggy sweats would be perfect. Something to hide her figure. And tennis shoes, he thought as he watched her bare toes curl into the carpet, the bubble gum pink polish peeking out from under her jeans.

Cody shook his head and refocused on the problem at hand. “You can change in a minute. What is that?” he asked again, pointing to the animal at her feet.

“What’s what?” She looked down, as if unaware anything abnormal was going on. Apparently in Misty’s world, playing with a fox on the living room floor was business as usual. “That’s a fox. You know, one would think the Premier of fox shifters would know that.”

The teasing tone almost brought a smile to his face, but his curiosity wouldn’t let the subject go. “I know it’s a fox. What is it doing in your living room?”

“I adopted it,” she said.

“Adopted it?” Cody looked down at the animal again. There was no humanity in its scent, but the boy was still a baby. He hadn’t been around enough newborns to know the difference between a shifter baby and a fox baby. “It’s a shifter, then?” He hadn’t realized Misty was considering adoption. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Misty would be a great mom.

“No. It’s a fox.” She spoke slowly as if to a simpleton. “I feel like we’ve been here already.”

Closing his eyes, Cody didn’t know whether to be frustrated or entertained. Part of him wanted to laugh while the other part wanted to shake a straight answer from her. Worse, he couldn’t tell whether or not Misty was serious. Sometimes she didn’t realize when she was being evasive.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” he suggested.

“Okay. I was hunting and found him with his mother. She had already passed away, and he was sitting beside her, crying. I couldn’t leave him there.”

No, Cody wouldn’t have been able to leave him there, either. And he wasn’t surprised Misty had gone out and bought the little scamp toys to play with, but…judging by the amount of toys scattered throughout the room, this wasn’t a stop over until Misty found a better home for the kit. She intended to keep him.

He rubbed his forehead, considering his response. During their friendship, he’d occasionally have to infuse logic into one of Misty’s hair-brained plans. It always made him feel like the bad guy. The killjoy. How to explain this to her without upsetting her?

“Misty, I understand why you brought him home with you. You did a good thing. But you can’t keep him here.”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him quizzically. “Why not?” Her tone wasn’t belligerent, merely curious. She honestly didn’t see a problem.

“It’s a wild animal. You can’t keep a wild animal as a house pet.”

Silence stretched out. He stared into her eyes, searching for the tears he expected his words to cause. When they didn’t appear, he breathed a sigh of relief. Since he’d never been comfortable with her tears, being the cause of them would have broken his heart.

“So you’re telling me, I can have a wild fox living inside me, sharing my body, but I can’t have one inside my home. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit...odd?”

Cody considered her words. Only Misty would make an argument like that. But it did make him pause. When he tried to think of a rebuttal, he realized she had a good point.

It really wasn’t his business. As long as her neighbors didn’t complain, he had no reason to force the issue. Besides, he didn’t want to see the joyful light in her eyes dim.

“Do you even know how to take care of him?”

“Sure I do. Well, okay maybe not. But I’ll learn.”

He took a deep breath, wanting to question her further, but it wasn’t his place. Tonight he was supposed to teach her self-defense. The whole afternoon, he’d researched teaching techniques and had come up with a lesson plan. But first, they needed to do something with the fox and she needed to change into clothes that didn’t cling to every curve.

“Fine, but what are you going to do with it while we practice?” he asked, looking around. The shiny new dog crate in the corner snagged his gaze. She wouldn’t…