Wolf’s Fox by Juniper Hart

9

Catherine gritted her teeth together, her foot falling heavier on the gas. Over and over she heard her son’s accusing words, each one stabbing into her like a blade.

It had been years since the topic of Bane’s untimely death had come about. One of the reasons the wives had split off into different directions with their respective children had been to avoid the subject entirely. Catherine couldn’t be sure which one of her sister wives had spilled the beans about Bane’s passing, but one day, all the children had learned the truth about it, and suddenly, Catherine found herself the enemy of her only child.

In her life, she had done a great deal of things of which she was not proud. Joining forces with Bane Konrad when she was barely out of her teens, over a hundred and fifty years ago, had not been her shining moment. Even then, she had known that he was not a good being, but his absolute power had kept a hold over her that had been intoxicating and hard to resist.

Of course, Catherine had been the first wife. She had not anticipated sharing her affections with any of the others who had come into play, nor had she had imagined the deviancy of which Bane was capable.

But there had been a benefit to being the first in line. Catherine had learned a great deal more about the way of enthralling the masses, better than any of the others. Some of the wives had still believed in the Movement, even after they had bound together in their agreement to kill off their husband, who had proved to be too big for his britches.

The general agreement had been fear for their sons, and in Deborah’s case, her daughter. No one needed to be told how females were treated in the cult, and it had not been hard to enlist the other wives to do what had ultimately been Catherine’s bidding.

Still, it embittered her to realize how little respect Nicholas had for her and the Ministry when so much had been done to ensure his future.

For years, she had tried to draw her son back into the fold, to make him the face of her services to replace Bane’s name. It still made her sick to her stomach, having to pretend that Bane was someone to be revered. But it was a good way to ensure her life of luxury, even if Nicholas wanted no part of it.

This revelation, the promise of Ruthie Edwards lurking about somewhere nearby, was something worthwhile, regardless of Nicholas’ knowledge on the matter.

No one needed to be told the importance of a female white fox. Their procreation powers were second to none in the magical realm, and even the strongest of witches could not do that of which the white fox was capable. It didn’t take much deduction for Catherine to understand the benefit of having such a being in her bloodline.

She steered her brand-new Mercedes C Class into the parking lot of the Ministry, where hers was the only car. She quickly let herself out and hurried to unlock the doors. The full moon service had ended only an hour earlier, but the parishioners had already managed to clean up and stack the chairs as if no one had been there. Catherine bypassed the main hall and moved toward her offices in the back. She had a luncheon planned that afternoon, but this took precedent.

Allowing herself into the inner office, she forsook the lights and sat at her desk, opening the desktop computer. In seconds, she found herself scrolling through the information she sought, but as her eyes strained, she realized that what she was looking for was not there.

“Dammit,” she muttered. She flopped back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling, her astute mind circling. There were several ways to handle this, none of them appealing. She had the distinct impression that she would not be happy with whatever outcome she chose.

“Sister Catherine!”

Saul appeared suddenly at the doorway, and Catherine almost rolled her eyes. She should have known that he was still lurking about.

“Brother Saul,” she said genially, sitting forward. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

He smiled dumbly at her. “I thought you’d left too,” he replied.

Maybe this is a sign from the gods, Catherine thought optimistically.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she told him demurely. “I have an important task for you. Do you think you’re up for it?”

His smile broadened, and he nodded vehemently.

“Yes! Of course!” he said, agreeable as Catherine had known he would be. “What is it?”

“There is a white fox living out in the wild right now, a scared female with no one to depend on. She will run at the first sight of human contact and needs to be brought to the light.”

“Oh, how sad,” Saul said predictably, his face showing genuine remorse.

“It truly is,” Catherine agreed, managing a proper note of regret. “A lost soul.”

“I will bring her to the light, Sister Catherine. Fear not.”

Catherine feared a lot, particularly when it came to Saul, who had all the decorum of a dump truck and half the wits.

“I can’t stress the importance of bringing her to me,” she went on. “But she will run if cornered, and I can’t risk losing her. Do you think you can find her for me, Saul?”

“I will find her for you, Sister,” he vowed earnestly. “You can count on me.”

“Also, you’ll need to keep this task secret between us,” Catherine added. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how coveted white foxes are.”

“Coveted?” Saul echoed stupidly.

Catherine maintained her smile. “Everyone wants one, Saul,” she explained patiently. “This is likely why she’s so scared. People have tried to capture her before.”

“Oh…okay.”

Saul shrugged. Catherine was grateful he was so dim-witted. He didn’t ask questions, and he would do anything for the Ministry, as long as she asked him. Saul would stop at nothing to bring Ruthie Edwards to her. He wouldn’t eat or sleep until the mission was accomplished.

“You should get on that, Saul,” Catherine said pointedly. “The more time you waste, the less likely you are to catch her.”

“Oh, yes, yes, Sister Catherine,” he bumbled, nodding and backing away with half bows.

That’s one problem solved, she thought, watching him disappear back into the Ministry. The question is, what do I do with Ruthie Edwards when she’s found?

* * *

It had beena long time since Catherine had taken the lone road. It hadn’t changed much since she’d last been, but even now, decades later, she felt the same unwelcoming chill, even before the house appeared behind the wrought iron gate.

There was no one to greet her at the gatekeeper post, but the doors still swung inwards as if she had been expected.

Ivy grew up along the columns supporting the second-floor balcony, and the outward façade of the ancient mansion was crumbling. It had always been in dire need of an upgrade. Somehow, it still stood, as though it had been held together with spit and toothpaste.

Catherine didn’t ask. She didn’t care enough.

The sun had fully risen over the trees to cast an eerie light over the dark interior of the woods. A musky smell wafted into her nostrils as she stepped out of her car.

Before she reached the lion’s head knocker, the door opened, and a thin-lipped woman stood with a frosty smile.

“Catherine,” she said without an iota of warmth. “You’ve been expected for some time now.”

“Have I?” She smiled tersely.

“I assume there is a problem with the tithes if you’re coming now,” the dead-eyed fairy said. “I cannot imagine another reason for your presence.”

“I’ll pretend not to hear the causticness of your tone, Arianna,” Catherine said haughtily, sailing past her. No one would ever know by her actions, but Catherine’s heart was in her throat the moment she stepped foot in the forbidding house. She reminded herself that she had endured much worse than this in her life.

“One of these days, Catherine, you’ll be cut off,” Arianna told her threateningly. It was a threat that Catherine had heard before and not just by the reproving fairy.

“I’ll wait in the parlor,” Catherine replied, ignoring Arianna’s words. “Send tea. I’ve been up all night.”

The mistress of the house scoffed and spun on her heel as Catherine flopped unceremoniously onto one of the velvet settees in the front room. Springs poked from all angles, and it was lumpy and uncomfortable, which seemed to suit the ambiance of the rest of the house. To Catherine’s mind, it would have been much more impressive without the bedraggled furnishings, clinging to the twentieth century.

“Catherine.” The master of the house appeared, looking disheveled and disgruntled as always. “Is there a problem with the tithes?”

“No,” Catherine replied, rising to kiss his scruffy cheek. The mere feel of his skin against hers caused her to shudder, but after years of sleeping with Bane Konrad, Catherine had long since learned to hide her naked disgust of the men with whom she was forced to engage.

He pulled back as though her touch burned him and stared at her with cold, dead eyes.

“What is it then? I haven’t seen you in years, and I wasn’t expecting you now.”

“Decades,” she corrected him. “And I thought it was high time I came to check on you.”

His bright blue eyes shadowed more, creating a pit-like abyss, and Catherine could plainly see that her answer did not appease him in the least.

“Shall we cut the nonsense?” he growled. “I’m quite busy these days.”

Catherine didn’t bother to ask with what. If he weren’t lying, she did not want to know the sordid details.

“I understand,” she said smoothly, beginning to stalk about the lounge like a cat on its prey. She extended a finger to run along the thick dust of the piano, but if he noticed the filth of his house, he made no comment.

“I’ve come across an interesting rumor,” she said without meeting his eyes. “One that might be of interest to you.”

He laughed. “You may not have noticed, but it’s been a long while since I’ve much cared for the flapping gums of the Ministry.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that you and Arianna never attend services anymore,” Catherine commented. “It’s a pity—perhaps you would have heard first and saved me from having to come here at all.”

“Heard what?” He sounded annoyed.

“That Ruthie Edwards is nearby.”

The air in the room was suddenly very still. He stopped, cocking his head to the side.

“Come again?” he breathed, sliding up to her. “What did you say?”

“I think you heard me just fine.”

“No…I think you’re saying something that cannot be so.”

Catherine laughed a tinkling, amused giggle. “I have it on good authority that Ruthie is close and has been seen. I’m not entirely sure about her circumstances, but I currently have one of my best brothers on it.”

“T-that’s impossible!” he sputtered. “W-who told you this?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters if it’s true!”

“I think it is, and time will tell soon enough.”

“Why are you telling me this, Catherine?”

“I thought you of all people would like to know.”

He frowned, his displeasure palpable. Catherine wasn’t finished.

“There’s only one question that remains now, isn’t there?”

She could feel the fire of his stare, his nostrils quivering to release puffs of smoke as he glowered at her. The need to shift was overcoming him, and Catherine knew she needed to say what she had to say before he lost control, and she took the brunt of his temper.

“What question is that, Catherine?” he snarled, the heat of his breath against her face, making her stomach rock perilously. Even so, she did not lose the smirk on her face, and she met his eyes.

“How much are you willing to pay for her once I get my hands on her, Luthor?”