Exiled Guide Tamed the Beasts novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Fox

Kit comes alone in a rage to kill her; her touch drops his beast and the bond bites them both. HOOK: Rafe sent him.

The beast woke before I heard anything.

It rose on three legs, put itself between me and the mouth of the cargo bay, and made a sound deep in its chest.

I got my mask on and stood behind its shoulder.

Boots crunched in the dust outside, fast and uneven.

Then a thin man in a grey prison tunic stumbled into the red glow of the doorway, and I knew his copper hair.

It was Kit.

His mask hung from one ear.

Blood ran from his nose over his mouth, and both his eyes had gone completely red, with no white left in them.

Behind him the air folded, and the shape of a red fox stood in it, too large and with far too many teeth.

"Found you," he said, and he was smiling.

It was an awful smile, wide and shaking.

"I told them you'd run toward the water. You're so predictable, Doctor."

"Kit," I said. "You're hurt. Let me look at you."

"Look at me." He laughed. "That's good. That's very good."

He walked straight at the storm beast, which was five times his size.

The beast lowered its head and bared its yellow teeth.

Kit did not even slow down.

"Stay," I said to the beast, and put my hand on its neck.

It stayed, trembling.

Kit crossed the last few steps in one rush and slammed me back into the hull of the ship with his forearm across my collarbone.

The steel rang.

His other hand closed around my throat.

It was not tight yet.

It was only there, hot and shaking, and his fingers were splitting at the nails.

"Nine nights," he said, right into my face. "Nine nights you've had Stellan strapped in that room, and we all listened to it through the wall."

"I'll tell you everything I know," I said. "I know almost nothing."

"Liar."

His fingers tightened.

I did the only thing I could think of, which was what I had done for six years in rooms full of frightened people.

I took hold of his wrist and held it, gently, and kept my voice low.

Gold light poured out of my hand.

It went up his arm in thin bright lines, up past the elbow, across his chest, and into his face.

The red went out of his eyes all at once.

Behind him the fox shrank to the size of a real fox, shook itself, and sat down in the dust.

Kit gasped.

His hand came off my throat and did not go anywhere else.

It slid down and curled around my fingers, and he made a sound I did not expect, low and ragged and nothing to do with hatred.

Something went through both of us then.

It was heat, sudden and total, pouring from my palm into his skin and back into mine, and I felt his pulse as clearly as my own.

I felt how scared he was.

I felt how long he had been scared.

I felt, underneath that, how much he wanted to put his forehead against my shoulder and just stay there.

His knees gave.

He slid down the hull and ended up kneeling in the ash, still holding my hand in both of his.

"Take it off," he said hoarsely. "Whatever you did. Take it off me."

"I haven't done anything," I said. "It's just calming you down."

"No." He looked up at me, and his eyes were green again, wide and furious and wet. "This. This isn't just calm. Why can't I let go?"

I looked at our hands.

The gold light had settled into a faint glow along both our wrists, in matching lines.

Neither of us moved.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I'm still working that out."

"You did this to Stellan," he said. "Did the same thing to him, didn't you? And now he can't stop looking at the door."

I did not say anything.

His grip on my hand got tighter, and so did the heat.

"I hate you," Kit said, and he sounded almost surprised. "I really do. Why does it feel like this?"

"Maybe because you're a mess and I'm the first person in a long time who's tried to help you," I said.

He barked a laugh and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Wow. Great bedside manner."

"I was a nurse," I said. "People used to tell me that all the time."

His eyes narrowed.

"You've never said that before."

"No," I said. "I haven't."

The storm beast came up and nosed his shoulder, and the fox ghost behind him flattened its ears.

Kit looked from one to the other.

"There's a wild beast eating out of your hand," he said. "That doesn't happen. They don't let anyone close."

"This one was in a trap."

"Did you take it out?"

"Yes."

He stared at me a long moment.

Then he got to his feet in one clumsy movement, still holding my hand, and I felt his whole body fighting the urge to pull me against him.

"Right," he said. "Right. Listen. We don't have time for this."

"For what?"

"Rafe is in the yard," he said. "He's gone full beast, and Bastian is holding a door against him with his shoulder, and Stellan's tank is cracking. The Warden's shuttle never came. Nobody can reach them but you."

"You want me to come back," I said. "After you threw me out."

"I don't want anything," Kit said.

His thumb moved once across my knuckles, and he looked down at it, horrified.

"Rafe sent me," he said. "Don't flatter yourself. He wants you alive because he can use you."

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