Silver Fox (Silver Shifters 2)

Elva threw up her hands. “No food? Of course we have some extra! Glad to share.” She thrust her way past everyone who’d crowding in, a woman on a mission.

Joey remained where he was, shielding himself from the mythic plane. He sensed that the tall blonde one was a wolf shifter. So was the shorter man, built like a bull, with the narrowed gaze of one assessing the strength of possible adversaries—or targets. “Got any booze?” he asked, looking Sylvia up and down, then flicki

ng his gaze to Nicola. He grinned in an unpleasant way.

Doris stepped in front of Nicola, arms crossed. “I’m afraid we’re all out.”

The short one sneered at her in a travesty of a smile. “So what’s going on here? Girl party?” He stared past her to Joey—who glimpsed himself in the other’s eyes: medium height, slim, silvering hair: old.

“Here we go!” Elva called from the rear, and pushed through, her arms loaded. “Here’s our extra bag of rice. You can feed a horde with that. Beans as well—instant protein if you mix the two. Here’s two frozen chickens, and a couple heads of cabbage.”

“Got any more meat?” the shorter man asked as the twitchy one took the two bags. “We don’t want the green stuff.”

“Well, I could—” Elva began.

“Out.”

It was Doris’s father who said it, and there was a ring of authority in that quiet voice.

Joey turned to look at him in shock. Doris’s father was so quiet and unassuming that he normally seemed like part of the furniture. But now he was standing straight-backed and tall, and he was a big man. For the first time, Joey realized that Doris’s father was well over six feet tall, with hands that looked much bigger when they were dangling at his sides, half clenched into fists, than when they rested on a chess piece or a book. Old or not, he stood like someone who knew how to handle himself in a fight.

The two men seemed to recognize that, for they both backed up a step. “Right. We’ll be going, then,” muttered the short one. “Thanks for the grub—the food.”

The tall one brayed a laugh as they turned away, and Joey’s fox-hearing caught the taller one snarling under his breath, “You could have pushed about more food.”

“Go find it yourself,” the other retorted. “What does ‘lay low’ mean?”

Elva shut the door. There was a moment of silence. Then Nicola said, “Grandpa, you were amazing.”

“I can’t argue with that, dear,” Elva said, kissing him on the cheek. Her husband looked embarrassed and slouched again.

“What just happened?” Joey murmured, holding Doris back with a hand.

“My father used to be a cop,” she murmured back. “And kind of a brawler, too, from what I’ve heard from Gran. He used to get into fights all the time as a young man. The day he retired, he said he was done with telling other people what to do and he was going to let someone else take over. And he hasn’t raised his voice to anyone for the rest of his life. Until now, I guess.”

“Well, it worked.” Joey smiled. Everyone else had drifted into the living room, a babble of voices directed at Doris’s father, under which his occasional embarrassed protests could be heard. “Listen, I don’t like the look of those two. I’m going to make sure they keep walking.”

Doris’s brows contracted. “Is that a good idea?” Then she looked alarmed. “Wait, the twins are out there!”

“I know. It’ll be fine,” Joey said. “I promise. I’ll go make sure they’re okay.”

She pressed her fingers over his, her gaze steady and worried as her cheeks pinked. So he learned in and kissed her. She hesitated, and then seemed to reach a decision, and his heart leaped into flame as she kissed him back, hard. He hugged her against him, relishing the promise of her curves. Then he let go, and slipped noiselessly out.

“Wait! Don’t you need your coat?”

“It’s not that cold. I won’t be gone long.” He shut the door quietly behind him.

It was snowing softly. Joey shifted and paced behind the two men, who stayed in human form because of the bags they carried, which were too bulky and heavy for wolves to carry in their teeth. Neither bothered looking back.

Some ways from the house, the short one said, “I don’t know what the boss was talking about. No shifters among those idiots.”

The boss, Joey thought. Could it be Cang?

“Said he smelt ‘em on the wind.”

“So? They’re long gone. I say we just take off.”

“No way. And get our asses hunted down for our pains? You know what the boss can be like when he gets mad. You wanna be the fuel for a bonfire, go right ahead, but count me out.” Another high, nervous giggle and then he changed the subject in the tone of an on-going argument. “Anyways, like I was sayin’, why not zombies?”