The Fox and The Hunter

Viktorya and Camille were among the first to take their seats. Business class was cushier than anticipated, but certainly less than Viktorya had expected.

“I’m surprised you didn’t insist on first class,” she admitted.

“There are better things to spend your money on,” Camille said, “But I’m certainly above economy.”

“I fly economy,” Viktorya said.

“Oh, no wonder you’ve had me pay for coffee.”

Viktorya rolled her eyes.

“Do you think they’ll confuse our luggage?” she asked, “Because between us, you look like you’d need more.”

Viktorya dressed simply, with the splashes of orange that she enjoyed, while Camille wore fur among many other signs of wealth. Despite her awareness it was all fake, Viktorya felt more like an aide than a friend.

Camille booped her on the nose.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t be caught dead in orange.”

“What’s wrong with orange?” Viktorya asked.

“Nothing, when it’s on you, my dear, but I would look ghastly.”

“You’re a shapeshifter.”

The conversation quickly changed to typical subjects.

“You know my father—” Camille repeated.

“The biological one, not the one that was your mother,” Viktorya continued.

“Was never invited to the reunion, in all their years together.”

“Because he was an asshole?”

The stories Viktorya had heard about the man were well skewed, but she trusted them to be accurate.

“But my parents were married,” Camille said.

“I know,” Viktorya said.

“And you and Jon aren’t even dating.”

“I know.”

“It’s just special,” Camille insisted.

“So you’ve said.”

Several times over the past month. Viktorya loved Camille, but she never wanted to live with her, especially not anymore.

“It’s just convenient,” Viktorya said, “He can’t ask you not to go, can’t leave me alone, and apparently none of his employees can be trusted with me.”

“You and I both know you could have them wrapped around your finger in minutes.” Camille twisted her finger in emphasis.

“Like Jonathan?” Viktorya asked. Their conversations hadn’t progressed beyond that she was on his list of possible suspects, though he didn’t want her to be. Also he had something to show her after she arrived.

“His interest lies in you, not your skill.”

“His interest lies in the fact I have knowledge that he doesn’t.”

“Ugh,” Camille groaned, “You kissed the man twice. How are you so sure he does not care about you? Not to mention all the phone calls, and you offered for him to stay in your bed, and he did not say no.”

“He’s polite.”

“I have seen him at parties. He is not.”

Viktorya shook her head.

“The flight isn’t that long, can we not talk for it?” she showed the historical romance she bought at the gift shop to read, along with pens to note inaccuracies.

“Fine,” Camille stole one of Viktorya’s pens, absorbing it into herself, “But only if you agree to let me be you on our way out of the airport.”

Who knew what Camille would do looking like Viktorya? Especially because Jon was picking them up, without the benefit of clairvoyance.

Silence though.

“Fine, but don’t make out with anyone.”

“Of course not, Jon would see through it so much faster if I did.”

Oh, this was definitely a bad idea.

Viktorya waited patiently at the quickest spot to grab her bags, leaving as soon as she acquired them. Camille had already met Jon at the car, which meant Viktorya had to be prepared for damage control.

“Why can’t you drop the logic sometimes?” she heard her own voice ask.

“It’s not even logic,” Jon said, “I’ve known you since you were a kid. You and Val used to try pranking me, but you were too much of a teenager to do a proper imitation.”

“But it was so good.”

“Viktorya’s eyes are brown.”

The other Viktorya’s jaw dropped as the real one finally made it over to the car. Jon looked more comfortable than Viktorya remembered, a leather jacket covering most of his shirt.

“You know the color of my eyes?” Viktorya asked.

“Better than she does at least.”

Camille turned back into her blond form with a mischievous smile Viktorya barely caught the flash of.

Jon took her bags, putting them in the trunk of a somewhat beaten looking car, a far cry from the rental she’d seen him use before.

“Is this your actual car?” she asked.

“No, mine’s out by Gareth’s. This one’s my sister’s. She doesn’t believe in getting things repaired until absolutely necessary.”

“It’s not like she needs it to do much more than run,” Camille said.

“She could afford to clean it every once in a while. Do you know how much of the back seat I had to clear?”

“I’ll probably find out,” Viktorya said. A vehicle used as often as this seemed to would have some unavoidable history.

“Not if you take the front seat,” Camille said.

“That’s not really—”

“I would take the offer if I were you,” Jon warned.

Camille gave Viktorya a nod and a wink.

“Only because I can’t imagine either is comfortable.”

“You’d be right,” Jon said.

The three of them situated themselves and Jon drove them out of the airport.

“Assuming you two don’t immediately need to crash, we’re going to make a stop at mine and Val’s favorite diner.”

“And mine!” Camille said, grabbing Viktorya by the shoulder, “Please, say you’re awake enough. All you did on that flight was read a book.”

“I notated it,” Viktorya corrected, “But I could absolutely use some coffee.”

“Excellent,” Jon said.

The diner was quainter than Viktorya expected, given Camille’s typical tastes, but the atmosphere and smells as they walked through the doors explained everything. Viktorya’s mouth was already watering.

“I’m so hungry,” she realized.

“Who is paying?” Camille asked.

“I am,” Jon admitted, sounding reluctant, “There’s Val.”

They joined a blonde woman in sunglasses with a similar jawline to Jon in one of the booths. The woman extended a hand as Viktorya sat down opposite her, next to Jon.

“Hi, we’ve talked on the phone, I’m Val.”

“Viktorya.”

Her grip was strong, forcing Viktorya to shake her hand out once Val finally released.

Upon closer inspection, Viktorya was sure she’d seen Val before, but she didn’t really need or want to know where at the moment.

“Bad news, by the way,” Val said, “Dick is coming, just got the RSVP. Should we hide her?”

Viktorya didn’t need to look up to know she was being pointed out.

“I doubt he’ll recognize me.”

“Especially with glasses,” Jon added.

Viktorya nodded, taking off the spectacles to rub her eyes.

“Yeah, Jon didn’t mention the glasses, or really anything about your physical description. He kept it very hush hush.”

“I appreciate the privacy,” Viktorya said.

They ordered some coffee as the waitress came by. Jon had tea.

“Has there been any progress with your mother?” Camille asked.

“No,” Val said, “Same as it was last reunion, and Jon won’t help me lock them in a closet together.”

“I’d prefer to keep my job.”

“I think he’d give you a promotion.”

Viktorya smiled.

“Who does your mother need to be locked in a closet with?”

As Jon said, “No one,” Val and Camille said, “Uncle Gareth.”

“Your boss?” Viktorya asked Jon.

Jon gestured for the other two to explain with a resigned sigh.

“It’s simple really,” Val said, “Gareth and mom were in love before mom met our dad, and the only reason she married our father was because she and Gareth had a disagreement about kids.”

That didn’t sound right.

“My limited interactions with the man strike me as the kind of person who likes kids.”

“We do not know the details,” Camille explained, “But grandmother said it was her asking about children that led to their relationship ending.”

“Fast forward,” Val said, “We’re born, and mom waits until she meets with Aunt Camellia and Uncle Gareth again to ask them to be our respective godparents.”

Viktorya watched Val with a different eye now. This woman was the Queen of Thieves’ goddaughter?

“I knew about Jon,” Viktorya admitted, “But not you.”

“Well it’s not relevant,” Val said, “Gareth and Camellia agreed, obviously, but dad got pissed because of Mom’s history with both of them. He didn’t like that she clearly trusted them more than him.”

“So our parents divorce,” Jon added.

“And that’s when operation Better Dad started.”

“I didn’t agree to the name,” Jon said.

“Jon tapped out after he started working for Gareth,” Val said, “Because it’s a bad look to try getting your boss to hook up with your mom or whatever.”

“But I don’t hinder their efforts,” Jon admitted, “Because I agree with the cause.”

Viktorya shook her head.

“Your family’s fucking weird.”

“What does that mean?” Val asked.

“No,” Viktorya said, “It’s great. I just did not expect that grown adults had a matchmaking plot for their parents.”

“Only one of them is a parent,” Camille said.

“But Gareth’s like a father to us,” Val and Jon said in disturbing sync.

“Assuming I’m not suffering a weird house arrest,” Viktorya said, “I’m in.”

Camille and Val made victorious motions.

Jon shook his head.

“You don’t know what you’ve signed up for.”

“No clue.”

As Viktorya got caught up with the various plots and found a place in them, they ordered their food. The discussion was finished by the time Viktorya got her waffles.

She took a bite and had to stop herself from making too much noise. It was oddly perfect in all its textures and flavors.

“This might be my favorite diner now, too.”

“You should have been here twenty years ago when Vera was in charge of the kitchen,” Val commented.

“Yeah, I could have used a place like this in my twenties.”

Val and Jon stopped for a moment.

“You’re in your forties?” Jon asked.

She knew she looked young but this crowd couldn’t possibly be that surprised.

“Did you expect me to be older or younger?” she asked.

“I met her over a decade ago,” Camille said, “Do you think she joined the Court as a teenager? Haven’t you heard of the Fox before?”

“You didn’t mention when you met her,” Jon said.

“Did you kiss me thinking I was in my twenties or the same age as you?” Viktorya asked.

And Jon froze again. Viktorya wasn’t sure about how to respond around his family.

Val flicked him on the forehead.

“Oww.”

“You’ll get over it,” Val said, “Answer the woman’s questions.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it, but I assumed you were older than you looked given the mage thing,” Jon said, “And what do you mean the same age as me?” Jon asked.

“You’re older than you look. No one at this table looks their age. I might be the youngest one here.”

Camille nodded, but Jon remained flabbergasted.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve known Camille over a decade, I’m an oracle, and I overheard you mentioning you’ve known her since she was a kid, implying you weren’t one by that time.”

After a scrutinizing look from her table mates she also admitted, “I may have sought out the information out of personal curiosity.”

Val grabbed her and Camille’s plates and they left the table, claiming an empty one.

“Subtle,” Viktorya commented.

“How did you seek the information on my age out?” Jon asked.

Viktorya took his hand in both of hers.

“Physical contact helps.”

Jon moved to the other side of the booth so he and Viktorya were no longer next to each other.

He sighed.

“So there’s something between us.”

“Yeah,” Viktorya said, “A table.”

Jon glared at her.

“Fine,” Viktorya put her hands up, “I don’t necessarily disagree.”

“If we don’t figure out what the hell it is, we’re going to deal with Val trying to figure it out for us over the next week.”

Val waved as Viktorya made eye-contact.

“Can she—”

“She doesn’t know what we’re saying, she’s just smart.”

“Okay,” Viktorya said, “We’re confusing.”

“That’s not going to cut it.”

“Do you want me to say we’ve actually been dating this whole time?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well I don’t know, Jonathan. I assume you don’t kiss many women given how you freaked out after kissing me, and the whole freezing issue.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jon admitted, avoiding her gaze. She didn’t hold it too long.

“So we’re confusing. We’re figuring it out, and it would probably be faster if we’d met under almost any other circumstances, but we didn’t.”

“No,” Jon said, “We didn’t.”

“Do you know where you want this to end?” Viktorya asked, unwilling to answer the question for herself.

“No idea,” Jon said, “But I do still owe you a review.”

“You do,” Viktorya said, “Do you want to let me know where that review is leaning?”

Jon shook his head with a comfortable smile.

With their food quickly finished, Viktorya felt exhaustion set in.

“I don’t know where Camille and I are even staying,” she realized.

“Well Camille’s going to a hotel that her family’s already reserved rooms in, and you’re coming with me and Val.”

“I’m what?”

“We need to keep an eye on you, and we have enough room for just two more people. Gareth’s got the first spot, which means you get the second one.”

“And where is that spot?” Viktorya asked.

“Depends on if you feel more comfortable in a nice bed or on a pull out.”

“Would I be kicking someone out of their room?”

“Jon lost the coin toss,” Val said, coming up to put her arm around Viktorya’s shoulders.

This time she got a choice about the bed.

“Pull out,” Viktorya said.

Val gave Jon some cash that he quickly put in his jacket pocket.

“You made a bet on my choice of sleeping arrangement?”

“I bet you were going to ask to share,” Val said.

Viktorya gave Jon a pointed glare, but he put his hands up.

“Gareth’s going to be sleeping down there as well,” Jon said, “Assuming your plots don’t work.”

“Does he snore?” Viktorya asked.

“On occasion,” Jon admitted, “There’s more a risk of him keeping you up trying to talk about some philosophical question.”

“Sounds like you have some experience.”

“Bodyguard,” Val said, “Jon doesn’t tend to stay far from whoever he’s guarding.”

“Like in a whole other building?” Viktorya asked.

“Not if he can help it.”

Viktorya saw Jon getting uncomfortable.

“I could use some sleep,” she finally said, “Let’s go to your place.”