The Secret Tenant

"Don't open the door. They're here to drag me back for an arranged marriage."

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Outside stood three men in matching black suits, all staring straight at me.

Inside, my tenant, Brandon Simmons, stood in the kitchen with a spatula in one hand and two fluffy white fox ears sticking out of his hair.

A pot of creamy mushroom chicken simmered on the stove, filling the apartment with the warm smell of butter, herbs and black pepper.

It felt strangely cozy.

Completely insane.

"Ms. Lloyd."

The man in sunglasses at the front pulled out a badge.

"We're from the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, South District Branch. We received a report that you're illegally harboring an unregistered fox shapeshifter."

I lowered my eyes to his ID.

The man in the photo looked just as serious as he did in person. Under Position, it read:

[Marcus Bison, Field Operations Director, Bureau of Supernatural Affairs]

I looked up at him.

"Bison? That's actually your last name?"

"Correct." He nodded without changing expression. "It's my family's surname."

"Oh." I studied him for a moment. "That explains why you look like a brick wall."

Marcus' expression darkened instantly.

From the kitchen doorway, Brandon lowered his voice.

"Mabel, don't mess with him. His true form is a bison. He's always had a bad temper."

A vein twitched on Marcus' forehead.

"Brandon," he said through gritted teeth, "stop sharing personal information about your coworkers."

I whipped around. "Coworkers?"

Brandon's fox ears twitched nervously as his eyes drifted toward the frying pan.

"...Former coworkers."

"I thought you told me you were unemployed."

"I am." His voice got quieter with every word. "I got suspended from the Bureau... That still counts as being unemployed... right?"

I took a deep breath.

I had found him crouching outside my apartment building two weeks ago.

His white dress shirt had been soaked through. His face was pale. He was hugging a battered old suitcase like the whole world had abandoned him.

He had told me he had lost his driver's license, his phone had died and that someone had stolen his wallet.

I had believed every word and had even bought him dinner.

It turned out...

The thing he had really lost was not his driver's license. It was his Supernatural Resident ID.

Outside, Marcus cleared his throat. "Ms. Lloyd, we'd appreciate your cooperation.

"Brandon is suspected of fleeing an arranged clan marriage in violation of the Supernatural Marriage Accord. He also has three outstanding disciplinary reports that he has yet to submit."

I stared at him, completely speechless.

The first two charges were weird enough. The last one sounded suspiciously like someone forgetting to turn in their weekly work reports.

Brandon's fox ears shot straight up.

"When did I violate the Marriage Accord? They were the ones trying to force me into that engagement!"

Marcus looked at him calmly.

"As heir to the Whitetail Fox Clan, you fled your own engagement ceremony in front of everyone. More than three hundred guests waited in the ballroom for six straight hours. Do you have any idea how many complaints the Bureau received afterward?"

"That's their own fault." Brandon hugged his spatula tighter and muttered under his breath, "I told them from the beginning. I never liked that girl from the Peacock Clan."

Marcus added without missing a beat, "Funny. She didn't like you either. However, at least she didn't run away from the wedding."

Brandon had absolutely no comeback for that.

Standing between them, I felt like I had accidentally wandered onto some supernatural version of a reality dating show.

"Hold on." I raised my hand. "So... he's not human?"

Marcus glanced at me. "Strictly speaking, no."

I turned back to Brandon.

"So, when you said you were naturally afraid of dogs… It was because you're a fox?"

He lowered his head. "Yeah."

"And when you said you couldn't eat onions because of an allergy?"

"Our species has... special dietary issues."

"And when you said you liked hugging a tail-shaped pillow while you slept because of childhood trauma?"

His face turned bright red.

Then, behind his apron...

A fluffy tail slowly appeared.

One.

Two.

Three.

Until there were nine.

In the blink of an eye, my living room looked like someone had stuffed it full of nine giant comforters.

Marcus held out a hand. "Brandon. You're coming with us."

Brandon looked at me. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Mabel... I don't want to go back."

My first instinct was to say, 'Buddy, this is way outside my job scope to repair.'

However, there he stood with his ears drooping, nine tails dragging sadly across the floor, with the creamy mushroom chicken still bubbling away on the stove.

Before I could think better of it, I stepped in front of the door.

"He's my tenant. We signed a legal lease. Until that lease is over, nobody's taking him anywhere."

Marcus frowned slightly.

"Ms. Lloyd, do you understand the consequences of harboring an unregistered fox shapeshifter?"

"I do." I reached toward the toolbox beside the wall. "And if you force your way into my apartment, I'll file a complaint for unlawful entry and disturbing the peace."

"We're acting within the law," Marcus replied.

"Then do you have a search warrant?" I asked.

Marcus fell silent.

I smiled.

Years of repairing appliances had not taught me everything. However, arguing with apartment managers, landlords and impossible customers?

I had become a professional.

Marcus stared at me for three full seconds before turning to one of his agents.

"Make a note. The human subject appears to possess an unusually strong awareness of counter-surveillance."

I blinked.

Did people at the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs get chewed out by nosy old ladies on a regular basis?

Marcus put away his badge. "Ms. Lloyd, we'll be back tomorrow. I hope you've made up your mind by then."

Brandon had just let out a relieved sigh when a sharp female voice echoed down the hallway.

"There’s no need to wait until tomorrow."

The hallway lights flickered.

A woman in a long crimson coat walked out of the stairwell. Behind her followed two young Bureau assistants, each carrying an expensive-looking gift box.

She looked no older than her mid-thirties.

However, her icy eyes made it feel as though they could strip away every disguise a person wore.

Brandon's face turned pale.

I whispered, "Who's that?"

He swallowed hard. "My aunt."

The woman stopped in front of my apartment and smiled. The smile was beautiful, but there was something deeply unsettling about it.

"You must be Ms. Lloyd. I'm Julia Simmons, acting head of the Whitetail Fox Clan."

She placed a bank card in my hand.

"There's five million dollars in that account. Please hand my nephew over."

I looked down at the card.

Then back at her.

"What's the PIN?"

Brandon stared at me in horror, and even Julia looked caught off guard.

I slipped the card back into her hand and shut the door.

"Just kidding."

Before the door fully closed, Julia's voice slipped through the narrowing gap.

"Mabel. You might be able to protect him for one night. However, you can't protect him forever."