Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,2

was the size of a small dog, but the body wasn’t right. It shifted, letting out a sort of furious, strangled hiss, and for just a second I could make out its full silhouette. “Fox, I think. Gray fox.” I tried to remember my aunt Violet’s many nature-walk lectures. There was something unique about gray foxes, something important . . .

“They can climb!” I shouted to Lily. But the warning came too late—the fox was already scrabbling up the metal crossbars of the weight bench where Lily still stood. “Lily, run!”

She looked around for a second, panicked, and then reached up, stretching on her tiptoes to get both hands around the rafter beams. Kicking her legs, she swung back and forth for a moment. The fox had reached the top of the bench and began swiping furiously at her ankles, letting out a high-pitched, rhythmic bark. In the full light of the gym area, I could see its wild, frantic eyes—and the line of white foam clinging to its lips. Rabies, I thought, fear wrenching my stomach sideways. I looked around, but all my weapons were locked away upstairs.

Lily had gotten her legs up and managed to jam her feet and ankles into the tiny space between the rafter beam and the ceiling. The fox snarled—my God, could foxes even make that sound?—and went up on its hind legs, clawing at the air where Lily had been. It turned in a frenzied circle, and then its feverish eyes fixed on me. It hissed, spattering the weight bench with foamy saliva. Shit. I needed a better, higher place to go, but there was only a small metal stand for kettlebells, the weight bench, the chair, and a treadmill, none of which seemed all that great for defense against a rabid animal. I could run for the steps, but the fox would be able to climb those just as well as I could, and if it got through the door, it could infect all my rescue animals.

“What’s happening?” Lily shouted, unable to see. Her voice was strained. She looked like she was crouched on all fours, but upside down. Only her ankles were actually being secured by the rafters, which meant she was holding the rest of her body up there. I probably would have fallen by now. Maybe I had underestimated those yoga muscles.

I looked back down, but the fox had vanished. “It’s—” I started to say, but I was interrupted by a crash. The fox had managed to tip over the weight bench, which clanged down on the concrete, sending hand weights and water bottles skittering across the floor. My dogs had started barking in a frantic chorus on the other side of the basement door, and were scratching at the knob hard enough for me to shoot a worried look at the steps.

“Lex!” Lily wailed, now dangling over nothing but a concrete floor. The fox was nowhere in sight.

“Quiet, please,” I ordered. I listened, turning my head back and forth for the sound of movement. There was a bit of rustling, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to pinpoint. “Can you throw something at it?” I called out to Lily, referring to the combat magic she’d used against Morgan.

“Not if I can’t see it. And not upside down.” She made a small grunt of exhaustion in the back of her throat, and I realized she wasn’t going to be hanging on much longer anyway. The fall wasn’t high enough to hurt her, but if she dropped down, there’d be nothing protecting her from this thing. If I could just see it—

I heard a tremendous hiss that seemed to come from an inch behind my head. Acting on pure reflex, I dropped and rolled sideways as fast as I could, just as the fox sprang at me. Its body, rigid with rage and madness, went sailing over me like we were playing a demented game of leapfrog, its legs scrabbling for purchase. Even out of the corner of my eye I could see the flash of its exposed teeth as it snarled.

I popped up and raced across the basement, away from the stairs, heading straight for the washing machine. I jumped on top of it, hearing the small thud of the fox hitting the side of the machine below me, but not as far below me as I would have liked. It could jump.

It pulled back and leaped again, tiny claws scrabbling impotently. It came close, but I was