Chapter 21

“Hey.” Aoi catches my arm in the hallway. “How do you know Yukimi, anyway?”

I clench and unclench my jaw, and resist the urge to punch the wall. Should I tell Aoi the truth? Or would Yukimi like it better if I remained her shameful secret?

I meet her eyes. “I knew her a long time ago.”

Aoi scrunches her eyebrows with a wry smile. “Excuse me for saying so, but you don’t look old enough to have known Yukimi a long time ago. And why would she have anything to do with a boy like you?” She coughs. “No offense.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “She gave birth to me?”

Aoi laughs. “You’re a sarcastic little kit, aren’t you?”

I lean against the wall and slide to the floor. I’m finally feeling that it’s after midnight, all the exhaustion of the day piling on me like snow on a roof ready to collapse.

Aoi’s laughter dies. “You aren’t joking, are you? You’re Yukimi’s son?”

“Yes.”

She crouches next to me, her fingers splayed on the floor. Her eyes look dark and huge in the shadows. “You rode here on Yukimi’s motorcycle. That’s why you smell like her.”

I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Sure.”

Aoi backs away from me, still crouching like a wary animal. She mutters something to herself, but I climb to my feet.

Yukimi won’t let me waltz out of here. Not while she’s trying to keep me “safe” by essentially abducting me. But I’m not going to cower in a den while the inugami hunt my grandparents and Gwen. When I close my eyes, I can still picture the naked, bruised, and bound woman in Yukimi’s dream. I’d rather kill those dogs myself than let them hurt Gwen like that.

I climb to my feet and stride back down the hall to the door.

“Where are you going?” Aoi says, behind me.

“Outside.” I pause. “For some air.”

I shut the door a little harder than necessary, my muscles still tight with unspent energy. I grip the doorknob in my hand, watching my fingernails darken to black claws. Anger is one of the fastest ways to bring out the fox in me.

I peel my fingers from the doorknob and turn to the darkness of the courtyard. Out here, alone, I can hear the muffled rumble of traffic, the distant whoop of a police siren, and the wails of an insomniac baby in one of the nearby buildings.

I glance at my watch: 2:10 a.m.

Gwen must still be sleeping. If I can find a way out, then all I need to do next is get Yukimi’s true name and some of her blood.

All I need to do. That’s an understatement.

I spread my fingers on the secret doorway in the cracked concrete wall. Rough, unyielding concrete. I grit my teeth and shove, my shoulders straining. I brace myself on the slick ground and throw my entire weight on the wall. My left foot slips out from under me and I bang my knee on the ground.

“Shit,” I hiss.

Of course it won’t open for me. Yukimi probably handcrafted this illusion herself. Maybe it only works for people who aren’t pissed off at her. That would be perfect.

I pace along the perimeter of the courtyard, brushing the grit and snow from my stinging hands. There’s another door, but it’s locked. I stare at the fire escape above my head, curious, then jump and grab the bottom rung of the ladder. My hands slip on the icy iron bar and I fall back down.

Times like this, I wish I could fly. Gwen has it easy.

Down on my hands and knees, I discover a missing brick in the wall across the corner from the fire escape. I kick at the weak section until more bricks crumble away. Through the ragged-edged hole, light from a faraway streetlamp leaks through.

“Excellent.” I rub my frigid hands together.

Now, if only I could fit through. Well, a fox could. But that’s a transformation I haven’t made in Japan since I was seven years old. I swallow hard and stare at the freedom beyond. I’m afraid of what will happen if I push it. Afraid of the way my heartbeat is erratic right now. Afraid that if I fall, no one will hear me.

It’s damn cold out here. I’m starting to shiver uncontrollably.

“Well, a little fur would help that,” I whisper.

I roll my shoulders to get the kinks out, then flex my fingers. The bones in my hands ache as they rearrange into paws. I pant, my breath steaming the air, and run my tongue over my sharpening teeth. Pain shivers through my nerves.

This isn’t supposed to hurt. Should I keep going?

I force myself to breathe steadily and focus on the transformation. There’s a prickling along my arms as red fur shadows my skin, but no pelt sweeping over me in a fraction of a second. My skeleton aches, resistant to the change, and I clench my muscles, willing it to shrink into fox bones.

A snarl rips through the air. I swing my head around. Yukimi.

“Stop,” she says.

I bare my teeth at her. “Leave me alone.”

“This is not the way you need to do this,” she says.

My teeth itch as they retreat to their human bluntness. I wrap my arms tight around my chest, fighting the urge to whine against the sharp pain inside me.

“Eat this,” she says.

She crouches beside me, a fruit cradled in her hand. An apricot, almost, but it’s too small for that. The strange fruit’s skin shimmers the color of honey on cream.

Shivering, I stare at it. “What is it?” My voice sounds raspy.

Her eyes burn like embers. “It will help you get better.”

I laugh, a short bark. “So you know there’s something wrong with me. That I’m going to die.” My voice snags on the words. “That’s why you left me in Hokkaido, isn’t it?”

Yukimi’s face betrays no emotions.

I take the fruit. It feels warm and oddly light in my hand, its skin covered with a delicate fuzz. I bring it to my nose and sniff. Jasmine-almond-nectar-syrup, an intoxicating confusion that tingles in my nose and hovers in the back of my throat.

“This is an illusion,” I say. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” Yukimi says. “Eat it. Trust me.”

I force my stiff legs to straighten, and stand. “Trusting you is the last thing I want to do right now.” But I’m still clutching the fruit in the palm of my sweaty hand.

Yukimi crouches with her arms resting on her thighs, her hands hanging near her knees. A wind whistles through the courtyard and spreads her hair behind her.

“This isn’t going to work.” I force the words past my tight throat. “I know half-breeds like myself aren’t strong enough to control a kitsune’s magic. The myobu told me.”

“The myobu?” She flashes her fangs. “They know nothing.”

“You said yourself that I was broken.”

Yukimi looks me in the eye. “Broken things can be mended.”

Anger reignites in me, and heat spreads through my skin like wildfire. I hate how she’s speaking so calmly, like this is nothing important and I’m nothing to her.

“There’s a lot you’re never going to mend,” I say.

I fling the fruit from my hand. It bounces against the wall and rolls across the snow. Yukimi stares at it, can’t even look me in the eye. I’m done with this, done with her.

I turn my back on her and walk away.

“Kogitsune,” she says. Little Fox.

The word hits me in the back like an arrow. I stop, my spine stiffening. “What did you call me?”

“Kogitsune, eat the fruit.”