Foxy Trouble (Crimson Hollow #15)

Chapter One

Rain hammered the streets, turning the cobblestones slick and treacherous.

Malik’s boots splashed through puddles as he shot down another alley, his lungs burning from the sustained sprint.

His cheetah prowled inside him, demanding release, but the image of appearing nude in the middle of this small town kept him locked in human form.

He rounded another corner and found himself on Main Street. Quaint shops lined both sides, their windows glowing warm against the storm’s gloom.

A glance over his shoulder showed nothing, but Malik knew better. The demons wouldn’t stop. They never did.

He needed shelter, somewhere to catch his breath and figure out his next move. The rain soaked through his jacket, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. Water dripped into his eyes as he scanned the storefronts.

A flower shop sat nestled between a pet store and what appeared to be an antique shop. Petals and Thorns, the painted sign declared in curling script. Through the window, he could see blooms in every color imaginable, their petals catching the light.

Malik pushed through the door, the rain trying to follow him inside. The scent hit him immediately—roses and lilies and something sweeter, earthier. Soil and green growing things. The warmth wrapped around him like a physical embrace after the cold rain outside.

“Welcome to—oh wow, you look like you went swimming with your clothes on.”

Malik’s head snapped toward the voice.

A young man stood behind the counter, pruning shears in one hand, a bundle of lavender in the other.

He was small, maybe five-foot-three, with delicate features and auburn hair that fell across his forehead.

His eyes were an unusual shade of violet-blue, currently widened in surprise.

He wore an oversized sweater that slipped off one shoulder and jeans that hugged slender legs.

Something inside Malik went completely still.

Then his cat surged forward, pressing against his skin, demanding he claim the fox. The scent of the flowers faded, overwhelmed by something infinitely more compelling. Honey and vanilla and rain-soaked earth.

Mine.

The word echoed through every cell in his body. This slip of a human with his quick smile and gentle hands was his. The universe had dropped his mate directly in front of him while he was running for his life from demon assassins.

The shittiest timing imaginable.

This could not be happening. Not now. Not like this.

This small fox was his mate. His to protect. His to keep safe from demons and everything else that might hurt him.

And Malik had just brought danger directly to his door.

“So, um, do you need help with something? Or are you just using my shop as a rain shelter? Because, honestly, either is fine, but you’re dripping all over my floor.” The guy set down the lavender and tilted his head. “I’m Indy, by the way. Owner, operator, and apparently towel service.”

He grabbed a cloth from beneath the counter and walked around it toward Malik. As he grew closer, his steps faltered. His pupils dilated, and his lips parted on a soft inhale. The cloth slipped from his fingers.

“Oh,” Indy whispered.

Malik growled, low and soft, the sound barely human. His cheetah wanted out. Wanted to rub against this beautiful creature until he smelled like Malik.

Indy took a step back, then another. His hand found the counter edge, gripping it. “You’re—I don’t—what—”

Movement outside the window caught Malik’s attention.

Two figures stood on the sidewalk across the street, rain sliding off them like they existed in a different reality than everyone else.

They looked human enough—one tall with dark hair, one shorter with blond—but Malik knew better.

He could see the wrongness in the way they moved, the predatory stillness as they scanned the street.

“Hide me,” Malik said, voice rough. “Now.”

Indy followed his gaze, and he must’ve felt the danger in the demons stances. “Behind the cooler. There’s a room back there.”

His mate moved quickly despite his obvious confusion, leading Malik through a doorway behind the refrigerated display case.

The room was small, cramped with supplies and buckets of flowers in various stages of arrangement.

It smelled like Indy, that honey-vanilla scent mixed with the green freshness of stems and leaves.

“Stay quiet,” Indy murmured, then slipped back out to the main shop.

Malik pressed himself against the wall, muscles coiled tight. His cat paced inside him, furious at being separated from their mate. Through the gap in the doorway, he could hear them enter.

“Afternoon,” one of the demons said, their voice pleasant and utterly false. “We’re looking for someone. Tall, dark hair, probably soaking wet. Have you seen anyone like that?”

“Tall, dark, and soggy?” Indy’s voice was light, almost teasing. “Sorry, haven’t seen anyone except Mrs. Chen picking up her weekly roses.”

Silence stretched. Malik’s fingers ached from clenching them so hard. If they touched Indy, if they so much as breathed wrong near him—

“You’re sure?” the second demon said.

“Unless he’s hiding in my peace lilies, yeah, I’m sure. Would you like to check? They’re on sale this week.”

Another pause. Then footsteps retreating. The door opened then closed, a moment of outside traffic sounds before it died.

Malik waited, counting his heartbeats, before Indy appeared in the doorway. His face was pale, but he’d kept himself composed. His hands twisted together, then stopped, like he’d caught himself fidgeting.

“They’re gone,” Indy said quietly. “For now, I think. Who were…what were…” He stopped and took a breath. “Okay, so this is weird. Really weird. But I need help with something, and you’re here, and those guys looking for you seem worse than—”

He stopped again when Malik stepped forward. Their eyes met, and that pull between them strengthened, became almost visible in the air. Malik’s cheetah purred, a rumbling satisfied sound.

“You’re my…” Indy’s voice cracked. “That’s not possible. That’s not… People don’t just—”

“Why not?” Malik asked.

Indy stared at him, those violet-blue eyes searching his face like he could find answers written there. His breathing had quickened, and Malik could see his pulse fluttering at his throat. Fear and attraction and confusion all tangled together.

“I’m just in shock,” Indy whispered.

“I know.” Malik tilted his head, holding up a finger.

“What?” Indy jerked his head around, like the demons would materialize in the shop.

Malik heard the sound again. Small whimpers. The sound was muffled, but it was definitely coming from the back. “Where’s your back door?”

“In the back,” Indy replied. “That’s why it’s called a back door.”

A slow smile spread across Malik’s face. “Makes sense. Mind leading the way?”

His mate glanced toward the door. “Are you sure they’re gone? Those were demons, right? Why were they chasing you? Wait, don’t answer that. The less I know, the better.”

“Breathe,” Malik said.

Indy sucked in air, held it, then slowly released it. “Right. Breathing. I can do that.” He glanced toward the front windows. “Are they really gone?”

“For now.”

“That’s not very comforting.” But Indy was already moving toward the back door.

Malik followed him through the storage room to a rear exit.

The rain had softened to a drizzle, and the alley behind the shop smelled of wet pavement and garbage bins.

A cardboard box sat against the wall, and soft whimpering came from inside.

“Oh my god! Dogs. Why would someone just throw away such beautiful babies?”

“A vet lives with me and my team,” Malik said. “I can take them there.”

“Your team?” Indy’s eyebrows rose. “What are you, some kind of special ops soldier? Wait, don’t answer that either.”

Malik knelt and examined them, careful with his touch. “I think this one’s leg is broken.” Nothing pissed him off more than seeing helpless creatures abused. If he found out who dumped them back here, Malik would beat their fucking ass.

Indy knelt beside him, his movements careful and gentle. Three small dogs huddled together, their fur matted and dirty. One had a gash along its side, another held its front leg at an awkward angle, and the third simply shook, its eyes wide with terror.

“Hey, babies,” Indy murmured, his voice dropping into something soft and soothing. “It’s okay. We’re going to help you. Don’t be afraid. We’re not meanies. I promise.”

Malik watched him reach into the box and saw how the dogs responded to his touch despite their fear.

“We need to move,” Malik said. “My vehicle is two blocks from here.”

Indy looked up at him, rain misting his face. “Can you carry the box? I don’t want to jostle them more than necessary.”

Malik lifted it easily, cradling it against his torso. The dogs whimpered but didn’t try to escape. Indy stood, brushing off his knees, and Malik caught the way his gaze traveled up Malik’s body, lingering on his arms, his shoulders, before jerking away with color rising in his cheeks.

“Let me lock up first. I’ll only be a second,” Indy said before taking off through the door. Two minutes later he was back, breathing a little heavy.

“Lead the way,” he said then added, “And maybe walk fast? Because those demon guys really creeped me out, and I’d like to not see them again.”

They moved through the alley, Indy close enough that Malik could feel the warmth radiating from him. Every instinct screamed at him to get his mate somewhere safe, somewhere fortified, where nothing could reach him. The dogs’ soft cries provided a soundtrack to their hurried steps.

“So,” Indy said as they emerged onto a side street, “do you have a name? Or should I keep thinking of you as ‘the absurdly tall wet guy who growled in my flower shop’?”

“Malik.”

“Malik.” Indy tested the name, and hearing it in his mate’s voice did something to Malik’s pulse. “Okay. Malik. Can I ask what those things want with you?”