Outfoxed by Love (Kodiak Point Book 2) (15 page)

Confused
, Boris leaned over and whispered to Jan, “What’s the family shotgun used for?”

It was her father who replied. “It’s
actually a dual-pump action shotgun and, when wielded by a determined fox, means the end of life as you know it.”

Jean Francois no sooner announced this than he
reeled forward as Irma somehow managed to bop him in the back of the head while rising gracefully with her empty plate. “Do you really think that, my darling?” With a sweet smile husbands around the world knew to fear, Irma stared her husband down as she patted his knee. “You know, if you dislike your life so much, I could fetch it from the attic at Nana’s house and use it one last time and give it a new name. The widowmaker.”

“As if I’d die that easily
and let you off the hook. You can forget it, wife. Just to torment you, I plan to live to be a hundred.”

“Only if I don’t poison you first.”

As Jan’s parents bickered, Boris found himself hyperventilating.
When did my decision to bed my vixen turn into me either getting mated or shot?

And Jan, sweet, bi
ddable, core-of-steel Jan, she didn’t improve matters when she patted him on the cheek and muttered, “Don’t worry too much about the gun. If you do force me to shoot, I’ll aim for a body part that won’t impede your ability to consummate our union or protect me.”

With her laughter ringing in his ears, he fled for the wilds outside his home.
But even under the vast sky, in the big, wide open, he could feel the walls closing in on him.

His vixen had set a trap, one that snared him and now threatened to spring shut
, making him her prisoner forever.

But the scariest part is
, I don’t know if I want to escape.

Poor Boris.
Jan let him flee, knowing she’d pushed him too far. But dammit, she’d never seen him so flustered, so panicked, so gosh darned cute.

Oops.
I better not say that cuss word out loud, or Momma will have me spitting bubbles.

Jan
carried their soiled plates to the kitchen. Her mother took them from her and shooed her away.  Her father gestured she take a spot on a stool at the counter. Protest as he would that Jan’s mother coerced him into marriage, her daddy was fiercely devoted to his wife and never strayed far from her side when he could.

“Okay, now that the beast is gone
, tell me everything that’s happened.”

Sitting first, Jan did, from the attacks on Reid and Tammy to the destruction of her truck and home. She left nothing out, except for the seduction of a certain moose. Those details would only get Boris killed
or, at the very least, maimed. Her daddy had a reputation, and he delighted in maintaining it. Thankfully, he and her mother had moved to a warmer climate years ago once Jan got her own place. But their frequent visits and phone calls kept their family bond tight.

As
she finished relating the events affecting her and the clan, her father frowned. “By the sounds of it, there’s more than just revenge afoot. Actually, if you ask me, it seems there are two separate agendas at play. One to undermine Reid as alpha of the clan and another to mentally torture the men who served with this Gene person.”

Trust her father coming in from the outside to spot what they’d all missed. “We didn’t think of that,” she admitted. “We just assumed everything was about Gene’s revenge.”

“Sounds more like a cry for help if you ask me,” interjected her mother.

“A cry for help that has seen people injured and killed?” Jan couldn’t help the questioning note.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t violent about his methods, but I mean, look at it. What has the man really done that has actually hurt you?”

“My truck was destroyed.”

“But you and Tammy weren’t seriously injured,” her mother pointed out.

“He sent shifters after me.”

“Whom you killed and who probably had orders to simply capture.”

“He changed Tammy from a human into a polar bear. Are you going to tell me that wasn’t deadly? He could have killed her.”

Her father answered before her mother could. “Actually, given what I’ve heard so far, this Gene person did Reid a favor. There’s no denying that Reid marrying a human would have caused shi—” he cast a look at her mother, “um, trouble with the clan, especially the other clans who were hoping for an alliance. By changing Reid’s mate into one of us, this Gene fellow made our alpha’s decision more palatable.”

“But she could have died.”

“Highly doubtful. From what I hear, this Tammy girl is pretty strong mentally, to start with, which is important for the change. Second, we all know mates can’t change their chosen one themselves. It’s too much like inbreeding. I also know the stronger the blood of the shifter, the better the chances of the change working.”

“I didn’t know that,” Jan replied.

“Of course not. It’s not something bandied about because no alpha wants to deal with a randy boy who thinks the honey between the legs of a human girl means he should claim her. The decision to make new shifters should be treated with respect. Not to mention care. Can you imagine the chaos if we started turning humans left and right?”

A valid point.
But Jan still wasn’t convinced Gene wasn’t evil. “Okay, so Gene suspected she’d live through it. From what I hear, the fight between him and Reid was fierce. Our alpha only survived by a miracle.”

“I call bullshit.”

Whack
.

Her father glared at her mother, who smirked as she said, “Language.”

“You’re testing me, wife.”

“And you’re flunking, darling.” Irma ruffled his hair
, and despite her dad’s growl, Jan could see he wasn’t really mad.

“
Gene’s a killer,” her father said, turning back to her. “If he’d wanted Reid dead, he would have shot him in the head. Instant death. But instead, he hits him in the shoulder.”

“Like I said, he’s crying for attention,” her mother added. “
However, that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. You’ll need to guard yourself against him.”

“
I know Boris is convinced he’ll keep coming after me. Boris thinks Gene is stalking me as a way of hurting him. It’s why he keeps trying to push me away.”

“And not doing a good job of it
,” grumbled her daddy.

“Jean
Francois!”

“What?” he
r father said, trying and failing to sound innocent. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“Boris is still coming to grips with how he feels about me,” Jan explained. “
The war messed with his head. Just like it really messed with Gene’s.”

“I say
we kill this polar bear threat. Lots of men suffered in the wars. Doesn’t give them a license to act like,” he cast her mother a look, “ill-bred louts.”

Jan shook her head. “Whatever the case, this Gene fellow is making my courtship of Boris difficult. Boris thinks we shouldn’t be together because I might get hurt by association.”

“I think he should try harder to stay away,” complained her dad.

“Oh, he’s been fighting his attraction.”

“But failing. That’s my determined girl.” Her mother beamed.

“
I could almost feel bad for the guy when you both get that conniving smile.”

“It’s not conniving.
It’s fate,” declared her mother.

“If you say so.”

“I do. And that’s final.”

“Says who?” asked her daddy.

“Says me,” her mother replied.

“
You’re bossy, wife.”

“I know.”

“So, what’s the plan?” her daddy asked, idly playing with his knife, over, under, and around his knuckles, a hypnotic game she used to love watching when she snuggled on his lap, the mesmerizing play of light on steel lulling her to sleep.

“What plan?
To get Boris to finally claim me?” Jan asked with a wrinkled nose.

“No. I’d say that moose is a goner no matter what he thinks or protests. I’m talking about a plan to trap this Gene person.”

Her father thought Boris would succumb? Jan could have fist pumped in delight. She trusted her father’s instincts. “Reid’s working on finding Gene. He’s got men out searching along with patrols.”

“Bah, if this Gene is half as good as me, he’ll have no problem getting past those. We need to set a trap and outfox the bear.”

“But what should we use as bait?”

It didn’t take their shared conspiratorial smile to come up with a
n answer.

A
n avid audience of one, Gene watched the comings and goings at Boris’ house from the snow blind he’d erected. Seemed like a lot of visitors for a man who usually eschewed socializing.

Not so long ago, Gene thought he and Boris might have common ground. He’d noted how the moose kept to himself, heard the yells in the middle of the night
, and spied as a wild-eyed man came running out the door to yell at the sky and shake a fist.

I’m not the only one with nightmares.

The thought strangely comforted him. Gene even pondered approaching Boris and opening a dialogue. But that was until he realized Boris was falling for the fox.

Suddenly
, the man he thought he could unburden himself to, the person he’d most perceived as sharing his mental anguish, no longer seemed viable. Not to mention he’d probably try and kill Gene for toying with the blonde vixen.

It
was what Gene would have done had someone fucked with a person he cared about. How he wished he could enjoy the comfort of a hug or simple caring human contact. As if that would happen now. He’d done so many things. Bad things. Evil things. Deadly things. Not all of them because of revenge, some in the name of survival, but still, there was no forgiveness for him. No warm homecoming.

He’d burned his bridges.

Alienated the people he’d once called friends.

Made an enemy of the one who dragged him from his self
-made prison and promised him vengeance.

Gene had nothing left.

Nothing.

So why not end it all? End it now?

Because I’m not a quitter.
Even if it killed him and the enjoyment was waning, he’d continue on with his plot for vengeance because at least when he fucked with his former comrades, he felt alive.

E
ven when dancing upon the tightrope of death, he had fun.

Too bad
his balancing act required his old friends to fall.

With his home invaded, his mind in turmoil, and practically hyperventilating, Boris fled his h
ouse for the serenity of the woods.

Too much.
It was just too much. Things were moving too fast. He’d gone from an imposed solitary existence to one with threats of not just marriage and permanence but family. Family dammit!

In his youth, Boris and his parents lived outside the shifter community, his
mom and dad preferring solitude. But his isolation only lasted until the age of ten. A car accident took both his parents—damned semi truck wasn’t paying attention to the sign declaring that stretch of the highway was a moose crossing. After their death, he went to live with his grandmother in her tiny apartment in Yellowknife.

The frail woman, who was already old when she got
custody of Boris, was human. It was his grandfather who’d passed on his shifter heritage to Boris’ mother. Being raised among humans, and by an older guardian, meant he never got to enjoy the warm, cozy, close-knit family gatherings most of his friends took for granted. Grandma tried, but with her health failing and living outside the clans, he never felt he belonged, anywhere. He swore she lived just old enough to see him graduate and enter the army before finally giving up on life, leaving him utterly alone in the world. Alone until he met his buddies in the army.

Always a bit of a loner, the guys he
bunked with—Reid, Brody, Gene, Peter, Logan, and the rest of the boys—wouldn’t let Boris remain aloof. They instantly adopted him as a brother, not just by rite of their sharing a shifter genome, but because, once a man had trained, sweated, and fought beside another, a bond was created. A bond Boris cherished because it meant he was no longer alone.

However, with caring came loss.
Pain. The war took its toll on their numbers. Their capture by the insurgents and time spent in captivity stole even more.

In the end,
Boris might have prevailed and escaped the camp with some of his army brothers, but the agony of those they lost was hard to shoulder. He almost let his grief consume him. He might have if Reid weren’t determined.

“Come home with me,” Reid said as they stood with their duffel bags over the
ir shoulders, honorable discharge papers in their pockets, waiting for their flight back to the continent. They’d served their time, and done their duty to their country. The impetuous youths who’d enrolled had experienced life, both good and bad, and were now ready for something other than fighting.

“
Kodiak Point is not my home.” Nowhere was home. Just call him a drifter.

“You’re my brother now, Boris. My home is your home. And besid
es, I could use you by my side.”

Indeed, Reid could. With Reid’s parents recently dead in a fluke accident, an opening for alpha of Kodiak Point was available. A natural
-born leader, Reid was more than suited to the task, and Boris would gladly work for him.

Yet
Boris hesitated. He hesitated because he feared. Feared remaining with these last few men he cared about, and feared even more the girl he’d once met in Kodiak Point. A girl he’d made a promise to when he was still just a boy. A promise he had to break because damaged men didn’t get a happily ever after with the girl of their dreams.

In the end, Reid got his way.
Damned alpha trait. Reid wanted Boris’ help, and he couldn’t say no. So he traveled to the remote town in Alaska and took the position as clan enforcer. Grew to love the place and its people, but he stayed far, far away from the emotional entanglement he saw in a certain vixen’s eyes.

It hurt. Oh how it hurt
so much more than expected and it had taken strength to keep himself from succumbing to her allure, but Boris managed for years. The nightmares helped as did the daily reminder of the pain of losing someone close. He thought he had things under control, and while not exactly happy, he could say he’d achieved a certain level of contentment.

And then she went and ruined it all by smashing through his self
-erected barriers and worming her way into his life—and heart. Now Boris wasn’t sure he could ever let her go. In denying himself, he’d done the one thing he’d sworn not to do. He’d hurt himself. But most of all, he’d hurt her. Not physically, but emotionally.
The one thing I was trying to prevent.

Not to mention, h
e’d lost a battle. He’d let fear win.

However, there’s nothing to say I can’t have a re-match.
Slowly, Jan was learning about his issues. They didn’t daunt her. Bit by bit, he was learning she was tougher than she seemed and able to handle him. The excuses he’d made for remaining aloof were getting dismantled, and he no longer could deny his need for her.

But what if I lose her?

Then again, it wasn’t just death that could take her from him. If he didn’t act, another man could claim her. Jan wasn’t the type of woman, as she’d already indicated, to spend the rest of her life alone. If he didn’t find his balls—which were massive as a moose but tucked away when it came to committing—then he’d find himself losing her anyhow.

Could he handle Jan with another male?

Fuck no. I’ll kill any man who touches her.

Guess that answered that question. In that case t
hen, he’d better moose up. Or, as his old sergeant used to say, “Suck it up, you panty-wearing, pansy-assed woodland creatures, or I’ll shoot you myself and stuff your heads for my wall.” Given the bastard was a crazy fucking rhino, no one doubted for one moment he would do it. Damn how he missed his sarge.

The cool temperatures and his internal pep talk calmed him down enough to realize he would accomplish nothing
walking around in circles in the snow. He retraced his steps and noted the white Dodge Ram pickup still parked in his driveway, which meant Jan’s parents hadn’t left.

Great.
Boris couldn’t have said what bugged him more, the fact Jean Francois had caught him unaware and thought himself better than Boris or the fact the man didn’t think he was good enough for Jan.

I’ll just have to prove him wrong on both counts.

Apparently, Boris spent more time in the woods than he’d initially thought, long enough that when he returned to his house it was to find her parents making themselves at home. Jean Francois had dismantled a few of his guns and cleaned them while Irma was buried inside his stove, scrubbing.

Invasion of the foxes.
A horribly scripted B movie unfortunately featuring him.

The one shining light?
Jan.

Sure, he still believed he wasn’t good enough for her. And yes, he still feared hurting her, but given all that happened
, a few things became clear as he took his walk through the woods. Ready or not, Boris could no longer fight fate; Jan and her blasted family were here to stay.

Not just because the vixen was stubborn but because Boris could finally admit—just not out loud
yet—that maybe, just maybe, he needed her in his life. Maybe.

Peering around, he frowned when he realized he couldn’t spot or scent her.
“Where’s Jan?”

Jean Francois didn’t bother looking away from his polishing of the barrel on
the magnum. “Out.”

“Out?
What do you mean out? Where?”

“Said she had to meet with an old friend to help put a ghost to rest.”

Oh tell me she didn’t.
Boris slammed a fist down on the butcher block hard enough to make everything on it rattle and bounce. “And you let her go?”

“Jan’s a big girl.
Besides, she went armed.”

“To track down a psycho.”

“What are you talking about, boy?” Jean Francois met his gaze.

“I mean the ghostly old friend is Gene. She’s gone to find him.
Stupid, stubborn vixen.”

“Be careful what you call my daughter. And I’m sure you’re wrong. She wouldn’t have gone to
find a killer without inviting her father. She knows how I enjoy a good hunt.”

Boris also knew she thought she was invincible.
“So does she.”

“What are you going to do about it, boy?” Jean Francois fixed him with a stare.

“Find her and bring her back, of course.”

“
Would you like some rope?” her mother asked. “I’ve got some in the back of the truck.”

“Rope?”
Boris was visibly startled at the suggestion. “What for? I wasn’t planning on tying her up.”

Jean Francois snickered. “Not for her, you bloody idiot. For the fellow she went looking for.
Unless you want him dead. If that’s the case, then Janny will take care of him.”

“Think she’ll bring back the pelt?” her mother mused. “I’ve always wanted a polar rug.”

“You do know this is a man we’re talking about, right?” Boris snapped.

“A man you claimed has gone psycho. A man you say threatened my
Janny. Does this mean you’re not going to kill him when you locate him?”

“If on the off chance she has found him, and he hurts a hair on her head, I can promise you he won’t live to see another day.”

“Then if that’s the case, I see no problem with requesting you at least try to kill him in polar form. What?” exclaimed Jan’s mother when both men stared at her. “Just being practical. Their fur is awfully soft on the toes.”

“Damned crazy woman.
Always sleep with one eye open,” Jean Francois advised. “Always.”

With that advice ringing in his ears, Boris slipped back outside, but not before tucking a second gun into the back of his pants. He also grabbed his keys.
He slipped outside, only to stop, stymied by the fact all the vehicles remained in the driveway. Which meant…

Sure enough, he noted a neat pile of clothes on the porch
, which he’d missed on his way in. Jan had shifted. There wasn’t much light coming from his home, but he had enough to see the tiny paw prints in the snow.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The vixen, who had obviously inherited her father’s insanity, had taken off on four feet.

F
or a moment, Boris debated going inside and recruiting her dad. The man might not sit so complacently if he knew his daughter had ditched her gun along with her human layer to go after a predator a zillion times her size.

However
, Boris was a man—with the card to prove it! Men, especially the shifter type, had too much pride, especially when it came to asking for help—
and no way am I asking her dad who already thinks himself better than me
. Besides, Boris wanted to be the one to rescue Jan if she was in danger. There was no guarantee of that if dear daddy came along.

With only a slight grimace at the cold, Boris shed his gear before morphing into his moose. As always
, the pain of transformation was quickly forgotten with the exhilaration of his other shape.

He knew some shifters thought him unlucky in his
animal. They considered a moose less noble or cool than other animals. He disagreed. For one, his massive shape wasn’t something trifling. A full-grown bull moose could tip the weight scale with many a large predator. The fact that he didn’t sport pointed teeth or claws didn’t mean he wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. There was power in his limbs. A grace in his stride. And he’d always secretly thought his rack, which spanned close to six feet now, was fucking awesome. Say what you would, but when he struck a pose, Boris knew he appeared majestic.

And not just because his nana used to say so.

With a ripple of the thick winter fur lining his body, he took off with a steady gait, following the tiny fox prints, which twined and wound through the woods. Then abruptly disappeared.

What the hell?

Boris swung his large head from side to side, wondering if he’d missed a rocky outcropping she could have leapt to in order to throw him off his path. Nothing. Just pure unmarked snow, if one ignored the marks he’d made lumbering through.

It made no sense. Jan couldn’t fly. He sensed and smelled no trace of another.
Just crisp, fresh air.

So where did she go?

He belted out a challenge, hoping for a reply. Nothing echoed back.

Somehow, his vixen had managed to slip away and not leave a track.

Impossible.

A dusting of snow, dislodged from a branch overhead, made him blink. And then he blinked again. An idea formed, but he almost discounted it. Surely she hadn’t.

He craned to peek and sure enough, the fluffy white draping some of the boughs was disturbed.

I’ll be damned.
Daddy taught her well indeed.

Most shifters
, when they transformed, preferred to do so with all their feet, er, paws or hooves, firmly planted. But that was a personal choice for balance and to make it easier.

However, it wasn’t necessary
, and if one had the skill of being able to act whilst going through the transition, it sometimes meant the difference between life and death in some situations; hence it was a skill many in Boris’ platoon practiced. Not him. With four hooves and a balance dependent on them, Boris never shifted anywhere but firm ground.