Joey looked back at Doris as Marrit’s angry voice rose. “So that’s it?” the teenager exclaimed. “That’s all you’re going to say? Well, fuck you.”
“Stay here,” Joey whispered to Doris, touched her hand and then shifted all the way into the mythic realm so that he would remain invisible to humans, and rounded the corner.
Vic and Marrit stood facing each other. Joey knew that Marrit couldn’t see him, and Vic was completely focused on the angry girl before him, dressed in black, her head flung up, chin out.
“Why do you keep trying to draw me into an argument?” Vic drawled. “You keep telling us you know everything there is to know in the world.” In a sharp movement he unzipped his hoodie, then yanked it off.
Under it he was shirtless.
Despite the situation Joey couldn’t help a spurt of amusement at the way Marrit’s flat-eyed expression vanished as she took in his smooth skin over muscles that were losing their teen gangliness and taking on the shape of manhood.
“Speaking of being a know-it-all,” he said, as he unzipped his jeans.
Marrit’s jaw dropped as he shucked the jeans.
Then, right before her eyes, he shifted to his wolf, and gazed steadily at her through his yellow eyes. As she made a high, breathless noise, he shifted back, and stepped into his jeans again, calm on the surface, but Joey saw the revealing tightness in Vic’s fingers as he said, “And how’s that working out for ya? Later. It’s been a blast.”
He grabbed up his hoodie and walked away barefoot in the snow, leaving her staring wide-eyed after him.
Joey backed up, and drew Doris back to the mudroom.
“Did he turn into a wolf? That’s what it sounded like,” Doris whispered.
“He shifted, right before her eyes.”
Joey led Doris to the laundry room, and shut the door. If he knew anything about young people, he suspected Marrit would hate anyone seeing her shock—or her tears.
“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” Doris said.
“He knows that. But he’s reckless. And young.”
“Is it the right thing to do?” she asked, her anxious gaze searching his face. “Should we get involved?”
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure. He briefly consulted his fox, which gave him the foxy equivalent of a shrug. “I think it’ll work itself out, one way or another. They’re young. Maybe they aren’t meant for each other. Or maybe Marrit needed the kick that Vic just gave her. My guess is, given their ages, it’ll burn out as suddenly as it flamed, but I trust they will both come out of it having learned something.”
Doris’s cheeks glowed with color. Before he could speak, or move, she leaned into him, and they just stood like that for a while, holding each other.
Then Doris murmured, “This is what you get, if you’re part of my life. Not all the time—I’d go bonkers. But holidays are going to be … well . . .”
“I like your family. They’re interesting, and lively, and even when storms brew up, it’s clear they love each other.” Joey held her tighter, and felt the tension drain out of her.
She wasn’t quite ready to open up all the way and trust him fully. Not quite. But she was getting there.
And one thing few people knew about foxes was how patient they could be. She was worth waiting for.
He felt a little shiver go through her. “Still not summer out here,” he murmured, and she laughed softly into his shoulder.
“No. Not yet.”
She slipped her hand into his, and hand in hand they went back inside, into the merry chaos.
TWENTY
DORIS
“ . . . no, Isidor has his own car,” Nicola was saying over her shoulder to Doris’s mother. “We came up in two cars.”
The in case we had to flee the disaster was implied, but things had gone well enough that it wasn’t said. Nicola then hugged Doris, and whispered against her ear, “Thank you, thank you. I knew you’d back me up. This morning Gran asked when the kids’ birthdays are. That’s it—we’re in.”