Read (Mis)fortune Online

Authors: Melissa Haag

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

(Mis)fortune (27 page)

BOOK: (Mis)fortune
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His answer warmed me.  Then, he asked what I wanted to do.

“I want to work on my GED.  Thanks to Blake, I missed out on graduating.  After that, I’m not sure.  I can’t think of getting a job and leaving my brothers, yet.  And the thought of sending them off to school in the fall terrifies me.”

“We should consider inviting other families to come live with us.  Nana Wini could homeschool.”

“Would Nana really want to do that?”

“I think so.  We all want to keep those boys safe.  Cubs are usually homeschooled because of their unpredictable shifting.  Even though yours don’t shift, they should still be treated in the same careful manner.  It would mean they’d need to be told, though.  Unless you want them surprised the first time a friend pops into fur.”

“Just another thing for me to think about,” I said with a sigh.

“We’ll figure this out together.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

When we finished, we walked back to our room.  I felt a little restless with the waiting, and we still had more than twenty-four hours to go before the meeting.  I wouldn’t have minded being trapped in a room with Emmitt after this morning’s kiss, if I intended to continue.  As it was, I needed a distraction.  I recalled Emmitt had thrown my swimsuit in my bag.

“Did you pack a suit, too?”

“I have something that’ll work.”

Ten minutes later, I stood at the edge of the hotel’s indoor pool, hesitantly testing the water’s temperature with a toe.  Emmitt took a two-step running start to jump in and hooked an arm around me as he passed.  Grinning widely, he twisted in the air so he landed first and kept my head above water.  I sputtered and laughed.

*    *    *    *

Feeling shriveled and water logged, we made our way back to our room before lunch.  Emmitt called for room service as I rinsed and changed.

Tired from all of the swimming, I suggested watching a movie while we waited.  We flipped through the channels, but the movie we wanted to watch didn’t start for another hour.  We settled for a cooking show while we waited.  It just made Emmitt hungrier.

I wasn’t surprised when he got up and opened the door before the poor room service boy could even knock.  Emmitt pretty much ripped the food from his hands, tossed him the tip, and closed the door in his face.

“Remind me not to forget to feed you.  You turn a bit feral.”

He just grunted at me as he tore into his burger.

We ended up watching two movies back-to-back, reclining on our stacks of pillows.  Of course, we were on the same bed.  Emmitt wouldn’t have it any other way.  He took every opportunity to touch me, random touches as if to assure himself I lay next to him.

By the time the second movie’s credits were rolling, Emmitt’s stomach growled again.

“Why don’t you call in an order at the restaurant next door then run and get it?  We can watch this next movie, then.  If you’re fast, you won’t miss much,” I said.

He called in the order and groaned when they said it’d be ready in thirty minutes.  We settled next to each other on our bellies to watch TV, but his stomach kept getting louder.

“You need to think about something else so we can hear the movie,” I said with a laugh.

“I can’t.  I’m hungry, and someone down the hall had pizza delivered.”

I leaned over and nipped his earlobe.  He let out a defeated sigh and turned toward me.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to think about that, either.”

I grinned at him then turned back to the movie.  His stomach was quieter, but he kept moving around on the bed, uncomfortable on his abdomen.  When he got up to leave, I crooked my finger at him.  He obligingly bent down, and I sweetly kissed him.

“Hurry back or you’ll miss the rest of the movie.”

“I’d rather stay here and skip the movie and the food.”

“Ha!  You’re only saying that because you’re distracted from how hungry you are.  Go.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

Chapter 18

Less than a minute after Emmitt left, a soft tap sounded at the door.  I smiled to myself and sprang off the bed.  Emmitt must have used his super speed, I thought as I pulled open the door.

My smile fled when I saw Frank’s cocky grin.  Shirtless, barefoot, and sweaty, he looked as mean and ugly as I remembered.  I tried to slam the door in his face, but he moved too fast.  He thrust his arm in the opening and shoved.  I stumbled back, catching myself before I fell.  His angry, bloodshot eyes narrowed on me as he advanced a step into the room.

The last time I’d seen him, the dim lighting of the backyard had spared me a detailed view.  This time, the florescent light of the vanity cast him into harsh focus.  The ragged cut-offs he wore were a superficial token at being clothed.  They had more holes than actual material.  From the amount of dirt and other unknown stains, he’d most likely pulled them out of the trash somewhere after shifting from his fur.

I glanced around the room, looking for something I could use to defend myself before my brain kicked in.  There was no use fighting him.  The best I could do was hope for Emmitt’s arrival.  I started to scream Emmitt’s name, but Frank clapped his hand over my mouth before I could form the second syllable.

“Time to go,” he growled as he grabbed me.  His fingers bit into my arms as he tossed me over his shoulder.  I landed forcefully on my stomach and grunted in pain.  I quickly braced my arms on his lower back to alleviate the throbbing ache, then I filled my lungs for a second yell.

Frank suddenly turned and took off at high speed out the door.  The abrupt turn sent me swinging to the side, and my head connected with the doorjamb so hard my vision tunneled.  I hung limply for a few stunned moments and struggled to think coherently.  Another hit to the head would knock me out.  I feebly wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled myself in closely.  I couldn’t let go and hit my head a second time.  Being unconscious was not an option. I closed my eyes against the growing nausea, forgetting to call for help.

He turned several times, then I felt cool, fresh air as he began to run faster.  My hair flew out behind us, and I held on tight.

With my head so close to him, I couldn’t help but notice his smell.  My stomach continued to churn unbearably.  He smelled like leftover soup, the kind that was slowly shoved to the back of the refrigerator and found three weeks later.

Bile rose, or rather, fell.  If he didn’t put me down soon, I would throw up all over his back.  I couldn’t decide if it would help the smell or not.

He stopped abruptly and turned sharply again so my head flew out, despite my hold, and connected with something solid again.  I slowly registered the sound of an idling engine as he gave a mocking laugh.  Dark spots further clouded my vision as he lifted me from his shoulder.

We stood by the back door of a car.  I could see blood on the back quarter panel.  My blood.  He opened the door and shoved me forward.  I reached out to brace myself as everything went black and my legs crumpled under me.

*    *    *    *

When I came to, my cheek was stuck to the vinyl of the back seat.  Before I could lift my head, the car stopped unexpectedly, and I flew from my semi-sprawled position to the floor.  I felt too sick to move.  My head pounded steadily, matching the rhythm of my heart.

A door opened and closed.  A moment later, the door by my feet opened.  I hadn’t even tried opening my eyes yet, but the feel of his rough hands clamping around my ankles motivated me.  He violently pulled me out before I had time to reach for anything.

My chin thumped on the tan carpet of the middle floor divider, and I bit my tongue.  Once my waist cleared the door, he stopped pulling, picked me up, and tossed me over his shoulder again.  I groaned but was grateful he hadn’t yanked me all the way out of the car.  Landing face first on the asphalt would have been much worse than having a shoulder planted into an already bruised stomach.

My fear raised a notch when he turned and started walking again.  I wanted to fight but my arms felt like noodles when I attempted to brace them on his back once more.  He opened a door and dropped me onto a wooden chair.

I tried to scramble from the chair but was slow and clumsy.  He used one hand to pin me in place and the other to zip tie one of my ankles to a chair leg.  When I realized he intended to bind me, I fought harder.  I connected a fist to the side of his head.  It bruised my hand, but he didn’t even notice the blow.

Desperate, I bit his arm and gave a disgusted cry when he groaned in pleasure.  It guaranteed there’d be no more biting on my part.  I tried kicking with my free leg, but he just caught it and zip tied it to the other chair leg.

He slowly backed away.  Hurting and out of breath, I stared at him as he stalked to the window.  He moved the curtain aside with his finger to create a minute gap and checked outside.  Satisfied with whatever he saw, he moved away from the window.

“I’ll leave your hands free and your mouth ungagged if you behave,” he said as he sat on the bed.

“You need a shower,” I slurred, angry at him and at the taste of rotten soup now in my mouth.  My vision swam dangerously as I panted in pain.

“Your coy invitations won’t work on me.  You smell like him, you know.”

I stared at him for a moment, shocked.  Who would have guessed he’d know how to use the word coy?

Then, I turned away from him, not wanting to hear how I smelled like Emmitt.  How long had I been out?  Was there even the slightest chance Emmitt had heard me scream?

I carefully looked around the old hotel room.  The blue curtains and worn carpet matched the faded paisley comforter on the bowed bed.  Streaks of yellow from the prior occupants’ smoking habits ran down the once white walls of the room.  Mustiness, sweat, and stale smoke permeated the air.

When I turned too far, trying to look behind me, I winced at the pain in my stomach and head.

I turned to look at Frank again.  He’d been studying me while I examined the room.

“How soon until Blake gets here?” I asked.

He grinned nastily.  “It’ll be awhile.  He’s out of town trying to tie up two loose ends.”

I knew he was talking about my brothers so I smiled back sickly-sweet, not letting a hint of fear or concern show.  “He’ll be back soon, then.  There’s no way he’s going to get them now, not without exposing himself to a whole lot of angry werewolves.”

Frank narrowed his eyes at me again.  “You’re choosing the wrong side in this, Michelle.  You side with those mongrels, and you’ll get hurt.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re the same mongrel.”  And I was already hurt.

He grunted his disbelief.  “We may have started out the same many millennia ago, but we are nothing alike now.  When this is over, it will be the Urbat who rule the earth, not you humans or the werewolves.”

He got up and walked over to me.  Grabbing my arms, he forced me to overlap my hands so he could zip tie them together.  So much for leaving my hands free, I thought as the small strip of plastic bit into my tender flesh.  It was just one more pain to add to the list.  The worst, by far, was my head.  When I turned, I could feel a slight tug on the back of my neck where dried blood had glued my hair to my skin.

He stepped back, putting distance between us.  “I think you’re right; I do need a shower.  I need to wash your deluded filth from me.”

Despite his appearances, I was beginning to see he was no idiot, just crazy.

“I’m not the deluded one here, Frank.  You are if you think you’re going to rule the world.  You may be strong, but there are more humans than you can deal with.  And you know it, or you wouldn’t be hiding the fact you’re a werewolf.”

“You know nothing.  You’re just a tiny, insignificant piece in a global puzzle.”

“There is no puzzle, just a greedy, crazy werewolf leading other crazy, greedy werewolves.  And If I’m so insignificant, then why take me?  Let me go.”

“The only crazy thing about Blake was his decision to let Richard keep you for four years.  Your time’s up.  We’ve waited long enough for you to come to the right decision on your own.  Now, we will decide for you.  We’ll start with you, and then we’ll help the rest of your sisters.  We will stop this cycle, and a judgment will be made.”

He slowly approached me with a wild light in his eyes.  He didn’t look upset anymore, and that worried me.  He slowly knelt in front of me, spreading my knees so his hips were against the chair.  His stench was overwhelming.

“You can end this now.”  He tilted his neck so I could see the dirt rings there.  “Claim me.  I will raise your brothers to be strong, not the little weaklings Richard made them.”

They were
not
weaklings.  The courage they’d displayed when I’d run with them and when David had found us again, was undeniable.  Weaklings were men like Frank and Blake who bullied and hurt people.  Torn on how to respond, I simply chose to turn away from him.  Spitting in his eye like I wanted to do would probably just result in more bleeding on my part.

He growled furiously and shoved to his feet.  I watched him from the corner of my eye.  At first, I thought he would hit me and inwardly cringed.  After a moment, he seemed to calm himself and swung away to move toward the bathroom.  He left the door open, no doubt so he could hear me.  I averted my eyes and thought back to what he’d said.

He was right.  I didn’t know anything.  What sisters was he talking about?  I was an only child from my father and had two brothers from my mom.  No sisters.  And what was an Urbat?  He made it sound different from a werewolf.

Perhaps I didn’t need Blake.  It seemed Frank had some answers, too.   I just needed to figure out how to get them.  The thought of being nice to him made my stomach roll.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad once he was clean.

The water turned on, and the shower curtain rustled.  I risked a quick glance at the bathroom where I, thankfully, couldn’t see him, then turned to look for something that might help me get out of the ties.  Even the slightest tug hurt so I didn’t try too hard.  What was the point if I bruised myself so badly I couldn’t run?  I knew they wanted me alive.  I was too valuable to them, which was probably why I hadn’t been hurt worse.

The sudden silence from the bathroom brought me back from my thoughts.  There was no way his shower had been long enough to get rid of the smell.  I quickly turned away, afraid he’d come marching out in the nude.  I grew nervous when he didn’t make any noise for several minutes.

“Afraid you’ll see something you like?”  His voice, inches from my ear, startled me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and answered with more bravado than I felt.  “Hardly.  I just don’t think my stomach can take much more—”

He smacked me upside the back of the head, stopping the rest of my comment.  I winced and swallowed hard against the pain.  It could have been worse.

Risking another smack, I kept talking, hoping he’d give away some useful information.  “You know, it’s that kind of treatment that had me running in the first place.  If you wanted me to stay, you could have tried some kindness.”

“Richard and your brothers were your kindness.  You were allowed to stay with your brothers, yet you still resented the monthly Introductions.  You were provided for and kept safe.  What more do you think you needed?”

Think?  My estimation of his intelligence dipped.

“My freedom,” I said, risking a look.

He wore the same dirty cutoffs and stood near the bed.  Most of the grime that had coated his skin was gone.  I wasn’t about to trust the smell had disappeared, too.

“And what would you have done with your freedom?”  He tilted his head as if really interested in my answer.

“If I would have had it from the beginning, simple things, like shop for my own clothes or take the boys to the park.”

He considered me for a moment.  “What if it would’ve been given to you later?”

There was no point answering because his smug expression said it all.  We both knew I would have run.  What did he really expect?  How long could you treat a person like a prisoner before they started dreaming of escape?

His pocket buzzed softly.  Given his state of dress, I would have never guessed he owned a cell phone.  He dug it out and answered it abruptly.  He listened for a moment then started to pace.  As he moved, he kept eye contact with me.  It was like watching a lion at the zoo.  I wished I had werewolf hearing.  Whatever the caller said, Frank didn’t like it.  His face flushed and a low growl erupted from him.

“Get rid of him.  I don’t want to hear from you again until he’s dead.”  He slid the phone closed, ending the conversation as abruptly as he’d begun.

Hope flooded me.  He could only be talking about Emmitt.  I frowned, and hope turned to worry.  Someone was helping Frank and had seen Emmitt.  I wondered if  Grey and Carlos were with him.  I needed to distract Frank from planning anything further.

“What is an Urbat, Frank?  And what decision were you waiting for me to make?”

“If Blake wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”  He continued to pace, his steps agitated.  He occasionally stopped by the window to look out the gap in the curtain.

I thought quickly.  “It has to do with Claiming one of you...the men he brought to dinner, doesn’t it?” I asked.  “Why does Blake want me to Claim one of you?  Why not Emmitt?”

BOOK: (Mis)fortune
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