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A New Family - Chapter 3

KA-THUNK. KA-THUNK.

Marlo kept his eyes closed. He sat stiff. His hands held tight to his knees.

KA-THUNK. KA-THUNK. KA-THUNK.

The train jolted, clanged, then began to slow down.

KA-THUNK... KA-THUNK...

That god damned noise. The thunking; the clanging. Metal grinding on metal. Marlo couldn't focus on anything else -- not the soft murmurs of concerned mothers eyeballing him and his captain or the way the sun gently warmed his fur.

All he could focus on was...

... THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.

It was loud in his ears. So inexplicably loud.

KA-THUNK.

A thought crossed his mind. The noise now made him sick to his stomach. Metal on metal. Metal on bone.

Caine, unknowingly, came to his rescue. The way he breathed into his face snapped Marlo out of his haze and brought him back to the land of the living. The first thing he saw was a look of mild concern from a bull who sat just opposite of him; tall man, huge arms -- the next thing he felt was Caine's incredible lack of personal space.

If Caine had wanted to, he could have licked the inside of Marlo's ear. That's how close his captain's face was now to his own. Not that Caine would ever do that, or so he hoped. Marlo could only stare dead forward, for a moment meeting the bull's gaze. He pleaded, silently, for help. The bull immediately turned away.

Steady breath. Steady heart. Kitsuragi's lessons still bounced around in his head.

Caine had a lesson of his own to teach the fox: he was not to be ignored.

And so he stared, his black nose now just inches away from Marlo's long orange fur. He breathed, making his presence known. He grinned, knowing full well Marlo could sense it.

Much like the Ouroboros, all Marlo wanted to do was swallow himself whole. Disappear. Perhaps be reborn somewhere far, far away from here. Far from--

It was useless trying to ignore his captain, and the fact of the matter was that he shouldn't even be trying. Their lives were now entwined with one another. The sooner he came to terms with this, the better.

So he turned his head, his back as stiff as it could ever be, just enough so that he could look at his captain out of the corner of his eyes, and somehow managed to give him a smile.

"Captain?" Marlo asked in a low whisper. He noticed the way Caine's dish-like ears twitched at the mention of his title, and very nearly caught the widening of his captain's grin. "... something wrong?"

"Nah," Caine replied after another moment. "Just thinking, that's all."

KA-THUNK.

Marlo thought of asking but chose not to. He was merely content with the knowledge that his captain had gone back to his own world, sitting with an uncomfortable-looking hunch, legs spread wide, his attention now buried back on his comically undersized phone.

He tried to do the same -- focus on something else. Anything.

But all he could think about was Washington Fellburg. Marlo's heart hammered against his throat as they began to near Sairobi Station.

***

"Hey, Butcher."

Marlo really wished that Caine would stop calling him that.

The two stood outside Twenty-Four Hour Happy Bathhouse. Even in broad daylight, Yara's family office was cast in the darkness of surrounding buildings. Nobody walked in or out; as far as Marlo could tell, the bathhouse was completely deserted.

Caine stood tall, his hands dramatically posed on his hips. For a moment he was distracted, a stray scent drawing his attention away from Marlo. His large black nose twitched as ears swivelled to find the source.

Marlo caught it too, a scent all too familiar for him now that he'd spent so long whiling away his days in Sairobi.

"Beef bowls."

Caine did something entirely out of character -- he stammered. Completely at a loss of words. His short and bushy tail wagged in what Marlo could only describe as excitement and his chest -- broad, strong -- heaved with every deep breath he took. "T-The... what?"

"What you're smelling," Marlo explained after a moment. Some part of him wanted to smile and laugh, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not here. Not right now. His voice was low, deadpan, quiet; "is called a beef bowl. You've never had it?"

"Never even heard of it!" Caine turned, his eyes in the air. He'd entirely lost himself. "What is it?"

"It's beef. In a bowl. With rice." Marlo's ears flattened over his head -- was that too condescending?

"Hah... shit!"

No. It wasn't.

"I need it."

"Uh..." Marlo pointed down the alley. "That way, then head left. I think you'll be looking for -- Captain!"

But there was no use; Caine had already darted off, guided along by Marlo's vague directions and the scent that seemed to only grow stronger by the second. His stride was strong, single-minded, purposeful, and entirely ridiculous.

Now alone, left to his thoughts, Marlo turned to face his family office. The stray thought of escaping crossed his path. No Caine to escort him meant he could just disappear for a few hours and hope that this would all blow over.

But that's all it ever was, just a stray thought. And, besides, he was better than that. He needed to be better than that.

"Just a chat," Marlo reminded himself as he stepped through the doors, a part of him now wishing that Caine was with him. His captain brought about a levity to the room that the new matriarch lacked. "She just wants a chat."

His sudden presence did not go unnoticed. It was his scent -- Yara couldn't just ignore how annoyingly powerful it was. It commandeered the room and demanded that it made itself known. It was as much the case now as it had been twenty-four hours ago, back in Samara Imani's office. Marlo had arrived, and while some part of her was relieved, another part boiled with outrage. Yara stemmed that particular tide.

For now.

Yara's personal office was a small room hidden away to the back of the bathhouse, past the pools and beyond a set of locker rooms. In truth, her office had once been a janitor's closet, now ransacked and refitted to better suit her needs as matriarch of...

Marlo poked his head through the doors, first ears and then eyes, with a cautious glance and a small yet respectful smile that trembled at the edge of his lips. He struggled to maintain it as he locked eyes with her. Yara remained silent.

... what? A family of two -- no, a family of three. Yara had to remind herself now that there was one more in their midst. A fox. Imani's gift to her, and he was already starting to show his colours. Despite staring directly at him, Yara really didn't see Marlo until he'd fully stepped into her office, his hands clasped tight behind his back in some vague attempt at respect.

"Matriarch?" Marlo asked as he began to feel silence's deadly fingers grasp his throat. Like Caine had done a few times now, Yara stared at him with something of a blank, expressionless look to her face. Glazed over eyes shimmered under a harsh light. Unlike her brother, however, Marlo could see some intelligence behind the eyes -- she wasn't merely staring, but studying and examining him.

Her own way of trying to understand him. He was dressed in that same floral-patterned dress shirt that desperately screamed thug and sported a sort of meek, frail, and cautious expression that had her questioning her brother's beliefs.

What stood before her was no butcher. No... he was a fox, a timid one at that, who didn't look like he could quite swallow her authority without choking on it first.

"Did my brother not even let you wash first?" Marlo's hesitation was answer enough for her -- all he could think was, should he be talking behind his captain's back? "... Come in. Have a seat."

The furnishings of her office were unlike those which decorated Imani's office. Everything from her own desk to a couple of bookshelves pushed up against the far walls was made of this cheap, hard white plastic which, at a glance, strained even under the lightest touch. The uncomfortable folding chair he sat on creaked under his relatively light weight, and he couldn't help but wonder how the other chair was even capable of supporting Yara.

Marlo got a better look at her now -- his matriarch. She was massive: taller than Caine, taller than Roxanne, and heads taller than both Samara Imani and himself. Her presence dominated the room both physically and, unfortunately for Marlo, psychologically. The room around him felt small and claustrophobic when it meant that he needed to share it with Yara. Even the air he breathed felt lacking.

Washington Fellburg's voice came to him like the crack of thunder. A mountain of a woman.

She looked at Marlo much the same way as she had when he'd first met her in Imani's office: distrust and disbelief. It made the fox shrink even more into himself, his shoulders unknowingly slumping a little, those big triangular ears falling flat over his head. But he never looked away,

"So... Do you want to go over what happened last night?" Yara kept her tone of voice controlled but the power behind each carefully placed word was evidently obvious.

Marlo obediently nodded. He'd been rehearsing from the moment he and Caine had left his apartment. Lying to Caine had been... Well, Caine didn't even give him the time of day to explain himself. His captain was convinced that Marlo really was a killer.

But lying to Yara? From the moment he'd met her he knew that he couldn't outright lie to her. What he'd told her last night -- what he'd told Imani as well, now that he thought about it -- wasn't a full truth nor a complete lie either. He had taken care of Washington Fellburg.

Just not how they might have expected it. And now here it was to bite him in the ass.

Yara, somehow, found herself pleased with Marlo's response. Quiet and obedient, but not as smart as Imani had promised.

"You did find Fellburg, didn't you?"

He should've told the truth from the start. But that taste of approval he'd got from her after reporting back was... it felt good.

"I did, yes." Marlo paused for a moment, wanting to see if Yara was going to ask anything, and then added: "Finding him was pretty easy."

"I figured it would be." Yara sighed. "Imani insisted that I let you handle this." Insisted. She made that word sound foreign and dirty. "Should've taken care of it myself..."

"If... if I may?" Marlo sat up a little more. Yara gave him a heavy nod. "You didn't strike me as the kind of person to leave that kind of work for someone else. Especially, well, you know."

"Assume I don't."

"Especially out of someone you don't really trust."

Her relaxed posture contracted. In a moment she was leaning forward, the whole of her torso nearly draped over her plastic table. The angry look on her face said it all - she really wanted to wring his neck.

But she didn't yell; she didn't grab at him; she didn't so much as say a word until she had visibly relaxed and regained her composure. It was a heavy sigh and a slight smack of her lips.

"We're off-track. Now, after you found Fellburg...?"

The ball was in his court. Yara once again eased back into a chair too small for her size. Marlo didn't want to anger or upset her, but he couldn't keep himself from telling the truth:

"I sat down and I spoke with him for a while. It was enlightening." Another pause -- he knew what he had to say but found the words getting caught up in his mind. It was that ceaseless unblinking stare of hers. "Washington thought it was money. That's why he stole from you. He didn't know that you had ties to Imani's family."

"In this fucking city?"

"That's what I said." Marlo almost sounded excited. Yara couldn't keep a small smirk from her lips -- it died as quick as it came. "A-Anyway, he knew it was trouble the moment he had a second to breathe. And, to be honest, you gave him a fright. I got Washington to give up the goods."

"You had a fight."

No. Marlo let him have a punch. Marlo willingly tried to fool Yara.

"I did," Marlo lied, this one time finding it easy. He allowed his answer to sit in the air, then continued. "It was fast, and at first he did have the upper hand, but he gave in pretty quick once he saw that I was one of Imani's."

"Right. Of course."

"And after that, I..." Killed him? He couldn't bring himself to say it. The thought of it in itself bothered Marlo enough to hesitate, his somewhat sturdy gaze wavering. "... uh. I guess you already know the truth, don't you?"

"A hunch," his matriarch admitted, "but I wanted to hear you say it."

Did he really have to?

Yara read him like an open book. The last person who'd understood his thoughts so clearly was Roxanne. Marlo could feel his defences being peeled away layer after layer under her ever-present stare.

"Indulge me, fox."

"Well... you're right." It's all he would have said had Yara not waved her hand - go on. "I didn't kill Washington Fellburg. As a matter of fact, I tried to let him go."

"Why?" Her simple question weighed heavy on his chest. He couldn't breathe.

"Because I pitied him."

"Why?"

"Because he didn't deserve whatever you were going to do to him."

Yara's boot incessantly tapped to the rhythm of his own beating heart. She breathed when he did, blinked when he blinked, and heaved a heavy sigh as Marlo sank a little into himself.

Judged. Just like when they'd met at Imani's office. The look on her face - squinted eyes, scrunched muzzle, flared nostrils, bared fangs - was pure distrust. Perhaps even disgust.

"You don't know me," she said simply and loudly.

In his shame Marlo couldn't help himself and turned away from his matriarch. He'd done wrong, he knew that, but her tone and inflection had made his transgression feel like a stab in the back. They hardly knew each other and already he felt like he'd betrayed her - betrayed his family.

He'd never felt this way with Imani. And it hurt.

"You don't trust me, do you?" Yara stood - Marlo almost jumped as her chair clattered across the floor behind her. God, she was tall. An amazon. She frightened him. Then came the stamping of her heavy boots on the tile floor. KA-THUNK. KA-THUNK. Closer now. She rounded the table and stopped just short of standing right beside him. Marlo kept his gaze down, right on his knees. "Do you respect me?"

"O-Of course I respect you!" Marlo exclaimed as he suddenly looked up at her, lips parted, eyes wide.

"Just like you respect Samara Imani?"

"... you're my matriarch."

"Answer the fucking question!"

"Yes! Yes, I respect you!"

"Then why," she began, her voice now calm once more, "didn't you do as I said?" But it still trembled, teetering at the edge of a snarling scream.

Why did he let him go?

Because he pitied that idiot of a wolf. Because Marlo thought that he'd been doing the right thing. Because, "I don't trust you. I respect you, but I don't trust you."

Yara's stance finally relaxed. She didn't look ready to snap at his neck. In fact, something about her seemed almost... friendly? "And the truth finally comes out."

"Matriarch, I-"

"Save it," she spat as a large and heavy hand fell hard on his shoulder. Marlo flinched away but Yara held him tight, then shrugged him with a tight pull of her arm. "You don't have to trust me, fox. What I do need you to do is respect me - yes, I know you respect me - but I want you to prove it to me. Stop disobeying me. Stop trying to lie to me." She paused, her large ears twitching for a moment as she gazed out to her bathhouse. "I'm not my brother; I'm not an idiot. You can pull a fast one on him but not me. Are we clear?"

"Y-Yes," Marlo stammered. His neck ached from staring up at her. "Clear."

"You really fucked us, fox. My family just barely got through the door and Imani is already breathing down my fucking neck. I - hah..." The way she stopped herself - Marlo knew that there was more that Yara had wanted to say. Yara finally unhandled him, gifting Marlo a little bit of personal space, although he didn't feel any safer. "We - you need to make things right with the Imani Family."

Marlo nodded as Yara made her way back around to her end of the table. She lazily collected her chair and sat on it once more. One heavy foot came up and slammed down on the table; it rattled so hard Marlo believed that it was going to fall apart.

"I'll make it right," Marlo spoke as clearly as he could. "They'll know it was me, not you. I'll head over right-"

"We're all going together, fox. You, Caine, and myself." Laughter - its predatory tone matched the gleam in her eyes. "One big fucking family."

The alternative: him facing Samara Imani and the rest of her family alone. Her family... they were his family just the other day, and so maybe they'd go easy on him.

"For better or worse you're stuck with us and we're stuck with you."

And so his mistakes were their mistakes.

"I won't disappoint you again." Marlo knew it to be true. He hoped it was true. He never wanted to feel the way she'd made him feel just moments ago: a snake in the grass.

Yara nodded, her attention no longer on him. She idly groomed the fur on her arms and then picked at some dirt from beneath her claws. A long, loud yawn burst from the depths of her throat.

"See that you don't."

***

11:43 AM: [Rox.]

12:00 PM: ['Mo.]

12:05 PM: [Just letting you know that I'll probably be late again today.

Don't wait on me.]

Marlo closed his eyes. For once, the steam in the bathhouse did not bother him. He put his phone down at the edge of the pool and slowly submerged himself until only the tips of his ears remained in sight. This warmth that hugged tight to his soaked fur soothed his frayed nerves.

12:06 PM: [How late?

_ 'Mo? _ _ Everything okay? _]

He resurfaced, eyes slowly adjusting to the ambient darkness around him. Marlo was alone in here. One large pool all to himself - his matriarch hadn't left her office in the time since their 'talk'.

12:11 PM: [Everything's okay, I promise.]

12:12 PM: [What's holding you back?]

He stared at her message for a few minutes, finding some difficulty in his answer. He wanted to tell Roxanne the truth, and yet -

12:16 PM: [A meeting.]

Plain. Simple. It was no lie.

12:19 PM: [What time will you be back? I'll meet at your apartment.]

12:20 PM: [Late.]

12:21 PM: [Late, late?]

12:23 PM: [Yeah.

I'm sorry.]

12:27 PM: [No I get it. Be careful. Let me know when you're heading back.]

12:30 PM: [Will do.]

Marlo was about to set his phone down and take one last dip into the pool when it dinged again. He checked it, opened a message from Roxanne, and grinned.

Roxanne stared down at him, half-lidded violet eyes almost glowing under the power of their own stare, distracting yet not enough to keep his eyes from wandering down and taking in the full breadth of her body. One hand raised her black shirt right up to her breasts, pulling it tight enough to really accentuate the curvature of each soft mound while also revealing her soft, somewhat pudgy belly. Her other hand came down to the hem of her shorts, teasing a thumb inside while the rest of her fingers lay flat just over her groin.

Marlo chewed on the inside of his lip as he tapped away a quick response:

12:38 PM: [You tease.]

12:40 PM: [Owe you after last night. Hurry back tonight, 'Mo.]

With a promise like that? For once Marlo wished that they could just get this over and done with. Roxanne always did that to him - set his mind straight, focus on something other than work. His life away from his life. The better part of him.

Punishments be damned, he just wanted to be back at his apartment with her.

Marlo set his phone down, closed his eyes, and slowly began to slip back into the depths of the warm, bubbling pool. A gentle tingling sensation followed with him, a feeling that started from deep within.

The same kind of feeling he'd had just last night, when he laid between Roxanne's legs and serviced her. Pleased her. Pleasured her. Worshipped-

Marlo could taste her in his mouth now. He could feel that steady rhythm set by her hips as they rocked back and forth across his face. He could almost savour the flavour of her cock as it grinded up against the flat of his tongue and threatened, oh so gently, to push into the back of his throat, surging up a gag reflex that he desperately would try to suppress.

His hand inched down to his groin. A frantic aching begged for relief. He'd ignored himself since last night and it showed. Just the thought of a promise for what lay in store tonight was enough for Marlo to stir in pleasure as he closed his legs tight and grinded up against his thighs.

Not here.

Yet as he thought that his hands had already come around to the base of his erect length. One gripped softly around himself as the other began the gentle tug and pull of rough fingers against sensitive balls.

With his eyes closed he could vividly picture Roxanne. She stood over him, naked and strong and loving, a long string of precum beading from the tip of her cock to drip down onto his waiting tongue. As he started to stroke himself he could see her own hands wrapped around his dick, rising and falling with a gentle slick twisting of her wrist.

Marlo sank deeper into the pool until his muzzle was just barely over the waterline. A little whimper escaped tightly-pursed lips as his fingers came up from his balls to wrap around his sensitive, twitching head. He teased himself with a gentle little scratch while the pace of his stroking grew wild and erratic and the images in his head became clear and raunchier.

It was her mouth on his cock now, lapping away like a kitten starved for milk. Once, twice... over and over as her violet eyes begged for a hot prize to be fed straight from the source.

It was her breasts coming down around his head as she threw her body over his, her own cock teasing at his hole, slick with saliva and some oil she always kept on hand. His breathing was hard and nervous, then muffled entirely as his face was smothered and his asshole was stretched, slowly, steadily, the weight of her body both simultaneously pressing down on him and opening him up to the full length of her cock. Unforgiving, relentless, filling.

It was a dull aching in his rear as he was held onto tight by warm hands and large arms, midnight black fur encasing him like a blanket, a soft tongue lapping away between his ears as he was cared for, loved, and teased, and praised. The Punk Fox of Sairobi bent over and fucked senseless -- there was laughter, then more licking in that one spot that almost made him purr like a cat.

KA-THUNK.

"Hey."

Marlo opened his eyes. He'd let go of himself just minutes before.

She'd been watching, admittedly amused by Marlo's brazen behaviour. She hadn't expected that.

Or the panic for that matter. A gentle thrashing, a pained whimper. Lost in his thoughts somewhere awful. It wasn't her business. She could have walked away -- she should have walked away.

"Get dry," Yara commanded. "We're leaving in an hour."

Marlo nodded, almost moving to leave the pool before remembering just how naked he was beneath the water. His hands reflexively moved to cover his groin despite knowing that Yara probably couldn't see anything beneath the surface.

Probably.

"How long do you think this will take?" Marlo asked as he thought of Roxanne once more.

The question was first replied to with a sudden scowl as Yara crossed her arms, which distractingly enough for Marlo only further accentuated the fullness of her breasts -- his mind was still in the fucking gutter. He couldn't help but steal a glance as he, mostly, tried to focus on her face.

Her scowl softened, the arms came down to her sides, and with a tired sigh she responded, "As long as it takes to make them happy. Now hurry up. We're meeting Caine outside Samara's office."

"Got it," Marlo answered.

Satisfied with his response, Yara turned on the heels of her boots and stamped off back to her office, leaving Marlo alone with a hammering heart and reawakened desire for...

He lost his chance. Duty called.

***

Captain Bassel Kitsuragi was an unforgiving and relentless man who prided himself in the discipline that he'd instilled on every soldier of the Imani Family. His harsh treatment was shared across the board from the lowliest grunt to the family's own lieutenants, two of whom now lay prostrate by his feet as they were berated and abused.

Bassel was not the embodiment of a physically imposing individual. The painted dog's frighteningly skinny physique and smaller stature left enough to be desired for, and yet he carried with him an air of commanding respect which seemed to beg for someone to come and challenge him.

He didn't have to prove himself, but that beast was always lurking in his shadow. A cobra coiled up, fangs exposed, ready to strike.

And Imani's Cobra always lingered in her shadow.

Marlo, and a few other boys with whom he'd been running with for a few months now, could do nothing but respectfully watch in silence as his captain continued to circle around the two lieutenants. None dared look away, afraid now that Bassel's wrath would fall on them.

"Set an example!" Bassel yelled as he very nearly kicked one of his lieutenants, a stocky panther who knew better than to flinch yet still shook at his captain's words. "This nonsense makes us look pathetic!"

In his hands he brandished a flush of bills, at a glance easily worth thousands. A few eyes lingered on the money, eyebrows rising and falling as Bassel flaunted it for all to see. Marlo could have reached out and touched the shame emanating from the two lieutenants -- the other was a dog, his fur gold and smooth as silk, and was twice the size of Captain Kitsuragi.

Bassel clearly expected an explanation -- anything to ease his mind -- but all he got was silence and apologies. Even for Marlo it was an almost pathetic display. What would he have done? He stared at his lieutenants and pitied them.

Then came a frustrated sigh, followed closely by an aggressive bark as he spiked the handful of bills down onto their heads, scattering them all over their bodies. The physical manifestation of their shame.

One fluttered, caught itself on an oscillating fan's gust of air, then landed by Marlo's feet. He didn't try to collect it but he did have a quick and careful look. Sure enough, even at a glance, he could tell that it was fake. Maybe it was just him -- some of the others still eyeballed the money with a hungry look in their eyes.

Then it all clicked: the dog and panther saw an easy payday, another chance at bringing in more money for the Imani Family, and jumped on the opportunity without really taking in the full picture. They probably just got scammed themselves. It was clumsy, stupid, and Marlo couldn't help but think that he could have done better.

At the very least he'd have spotted it.

"Alright, that's enough." Imani's voice rang loud across her office. Kitsuragi, who had very clearly worked himself up at this point, looked up at his matriarch in a wild panting craze which quickly receded as Imani stepped out of the shadows. "I think they've learned their lesson."

Bassel Kitsuragi wasn't finished yet, but he wasn't one to go against his matriarch's wishes. He took a deep breath, slowly pushed his cracked circular glasses back up the bridge of his muzzle, and took a careful step back as Matriarch Imani stepped up to the plate. He even went as far as dusting off his peacoat, as if the fury he'd just immersed himself in was nothing but dirt to be brushed off. In the snap of a finger he was quiet, composed, and carefully observant.

The presence of their matriarch only deepened their sorrowful bow. The dog's tail tucked in so hard between his legs that Marlo felt it was about to snap off at the base. In unison, as if practised a thousand times over, the two of them begged a whimpering, "Forgive us!"

Imani towered over them, her hands tightening up her kimono-style robe. In that moment Marlo wondered if she'd take pity on them like he had -- the moment was brief and the thought foolish.

"Make us whole."

***

Yara was the last to sit at the table, her posture wide and lazy, very much unlike her brother who looked as if someone had rammed a rod up his ass.

She half-expected a fox to come in through the door, a tray of tea in hand and a gentle smile on his face. But that fox sat between her and her brother, stiff as a board and with a look of terror in his wide eyes. She needed to have a word with him about that - too easy to read.

Yara more focused her attention on Marlo than she did Bassel and Imani, both of whom sat across from them with a blank and unpleasant expression. Imani, to her credit, did make some attempt at trying to seem friendly, though Yara could easily see past the deception. The matriarch barely knew what to do with her hands. Bassel, on the other hand, made no show at trying to hide what he thought - he looked like he couldn't stand being in the same room as them.

"Well we're all here," Imani began, her voice carrying a cold firmness that Yara had heard once or twice before, and one which Marlo was all too familiar with. She watched him almost flinch as if the words had been a physical assault on him. "Marlo? What happened?"

Yara cut in immediately. She didn't try to hide how bored it sounded. "Oh, I can answer that."

Bassel, who looked to be one off-hand comment away from bursting a blood vessel, leered at her. "She asked the fox."

"And the fox is mine," Yara argued. She ignored Bassel and stared directly at Imani - forced her counterpart to look her right in the eyes and nowhere else; "or was that not your promise, Samara?"

Imani took a sharp and frustrated breath, then nodded.

"Then I answer for the fox. Marlo." Her fox jumped at the sound of his name. Yara almost laughed at his reaction. "Objections?"

He wouldn't have said yes even if he'd wanted to. Obedient, loyal, and maybe even a little smarter than she gave him credit for. Her fox simply gave her a light nod of his head, his eyes begging for his life, and then turned his attention back down to the floor. Some shamed part of him couldn't bring himself to face his previous family.

"Pathetic," Bassel hissed. "Hey, fox! A man would speak for himself."

"And a dog should know when he's stepped out of line," Yara barked back, her voice now a chameleon that matched the same tone as Bassel's. "Samara-"

"You watch your tone, you fucking..."

Yara ignored him. "-keep your dog on a leash before someone takes him out back."

"Is that a fucking threat?"

"Do you want it to be a threat, dog?"

"Enough!" Imani's voice boomed. Marlo again flinched, his ears falling flat over his head as he very nearly turned away from all of them. "Kitsuragi! Control yourself."

Samara Imani's family captain retreated with a snarl. "My apologies."

"And Yara..." Her voice trailed off, words snipped out at the end of the sentence. Imani had to think about what she'd ask next. Yara already felt as if she had the answer to everything. "... what we discussed on the phone. Were you telling me the truth?"

"Absolutely."

"Which truth?" Bassel asked, once again forcing himself into the conversation. "Matriarch Imani, what did you discuss?"

Yara was first to answer. She couldn't help but find some pleasure in toying with Imani's captain. The way he glared at her fed some small part of her base desires. "The circumstances behind Washington Fellburg's untimely death."

Untimely. Marlo wanted to throw up.

"... And?"

"And it looks like our little fox," Imani muttered as her eyes fell on Marlo. He could feel everyone looking at him now. He fucking hated it; "has been harbouring a few dark secrets of his own."

"Bullshit! Boss, look at him." As if to further cement his argument, Bassel contemptuously pointed at Marlo. "Does that look like a killer to you? This animal's lying to us!"

And all eyes were on Marlo yet again. Truth be told, from this angle, Yara didn't see a killer. His body language spoke the words that he wouldn't outright say. How could it be me? But she wasn't the one that needed to be convinced.

A fourth voice now joined the chorus, surprisingly calm and low, his rumbling tone almost soothing and wise. Her brother jumped to her fox's defence, his confidence befitting his newfound rank.

"Captain Kitsuragi, was it?" He was all teeth and grins, his perfect posture broken as he leaned forward to close the gap between Bassel and himself. "If you have anything to say about my boss then, maybe, you and I should step outside for a few minutes and hash it out. Man to man." His mock friendliness was betrayed by a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Hm? Nothing? Then let's you and I stay quiet for a while and let the matriarchs do the talking, yeah?"

The room fell quiet again. Bassel stared daggers at Caine, Imani found herself lost in her own thoughts, and Marlo...

Yara put a hand on his back, the closest that she could come to comforting her fox.

Hang in there. You're doing good.

Marlo leaned heavy into that touch and grounded himself with it.

"Killer or not," Imani finally said after long minutes of silence, "the damage to my family's already been done."

"Damage," Yara echoed, "of course."

"We have already shouldered the blame for your actions," Bassel began to speak, both verbally and physically more relaxed than he had been just moments before. Yara could still see him tremble. "The clan isn't pleased. As a direct subsidiary-"

"Spare me the fucking lecture."

Bassel swallowed his pride as he glanced over at Caine, who simply gave him a smile and a nod of the head.

For once, Imani came to her own captain's rescue. "He's right, Yara. I have detectives knocking on my door and the clan breathing down my neck. Make us whole."

"A pinky wouldn't be enough," Bassel murmured as he nervously pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his muzzle and dusted off his peacoat with a gentle stroke of his hand. "His whole fucking hand wouldn't do it. Turn the fox in to the police -- have them deal with this idiot."

Marlo looked at his former captain and was met with nothing but a cold and distant gaze. Then he turned to Imani; she looked at him but did not outright refute her captain's suggestion. He could see that she'd been contemplating it for a while now.

"Not happening."

Then he turned to Yara. Her eyes were wide, her stance strong. One big hand came down on the table directly in front of him as if to protect him.

"Send one of your own boys if you're that desperate, or reconsider the offer I made over the phone."

"Boss..." Bassel began, though he was quickly silenced by a flick of his own matriarch's hand. She'd had enough of him. The message was clear -- Bassel remained silent.

"Fifty thousand upfront," Imani confirmed, to which Yara affirmatively nodded, "and another hundred thousand at the end of the month?"

"Works for me," Yara replied. Now she was center stage, and she fucking loved it. Bewilderment, doubt. That look in Kisturagi's face said it all.

"Yara," Imani began with something of a motherly tone, "where do you even..."

"You'll have your money."

"... then our business is done."

***

Our business is done.

Samara Imani hadn't said another word to him. Marlo had entered her office as a guest and left feeling like an out-of-place stranger. The last few parting words he'd caught were those of Bassel as he whispered rather loudly into his matriarch's ear that they were all trouble.

The three of them, including himself.

Marlo glanced up at his own captain who made an effort to walk in-stride with him. It was awkward for the tall man's usual stride but he busied himself by taking in the sights, as if this were his first night out in town. Caine was endlessly and easily amused.

Then he looked forward as Yara's voice commanded the two of them to hurry on along. She walked tall and fast, her arms swinging confidently, hands balled up into perpetual fists ready to strike at a moment's notice. She looked back at him and Caine and she smiled, that wild look in her eyes perfectly complimenting a toothy grin and long curling tongue as a large black nose twitched and huge dish-like ears turned and tuned in on them. The scars that ran all across her face befit someone of her nature - wild and free.

She was a fucking rockstar, fur glistening with sweat as she heaved for air and rode the high of stepping off-stage. "Did you see the look on his face?" she'd said to him, in regards to his former captain, as they stepped out of the family office. "That'll keep me going for a long time."

Marlo wanted to stop, reach out to her, and apologise for everything that he'd done. The hurt to her pride, the harm to her family, and all the trouble he'd inadvertently stirred up over letting one man go. All because he didn't trust her - couldn't bring himself to trust her. And he wanted her to accept his apology. He desperately craved it. Why?

Yara's look swallowed him up whole. Her words tugged him along as easily as Caine's surprisingly gentle nudge did whenever he began to lag behind. He couldn't find the time or place to apologise to her and, frankly, it was for the best.

No need to bring the mood down.

They turned into an alley and - home. The unmistakable scent of lust and sex lingered in the air as it mingled with refuse and danced to the tune of a lover's moan and the wet thwap of a violently animal-like breeding that for a moment stirred his loins and made Marlo look at Yara again, if only for a second, as something other than his boss.

He swallowed that instantly, turned his body a little, and distracted himself with anything else.

Twenty-Four Hour Happy Bathhouse was his safe haven. Home. The three stopped just short of entering when Yara suddenly turned, her hands planted firmly on her hips. That black shirt of hers was so tight around her chest that one false flex might have shredded it to pieces, outright demanding that his eyes fell on her heavy set of breasts. And her black jeans ripped in all the right places around her thighs to reveal just enough fur and skin-

Enough!

"Boys," she said with a devious grin, her bushy tail raised and wagging to and fro with unbound excitement. Her brother was already laughing beside him - he knew what this was. Marlo was left out in the dust. "We have the whole night ahead of us. Let's fucking celebrate."

"Haha!" Caine's laughter rang loudly across the damp alleyway as a hand clapped Marlo in the back so harshly that the fox stumbled, stammered, and very nearly fell right into his matriarch's body. "Hell yes!"

She grabbed him by the shoulders, steadying him tight, though he was now just inches from her body. Her scent was immediately burned to memory.

"Objections?" she asked, expecting nothing of the sort from her fox.

She was tall. She was strong. She was attractive. She fucking terrified him.

And he wanted to see more.

"N-None," Marlo stammered as he looked up at her and was once again swallowed up whole by her... her everything.

God help him tonight.