(Mis)fortune

By Melissa Haag

 

(Mis)fortune

Copyright: Melissa Haag

Revised Edition

Published: April 30, 2013

ISBN: 978-0-9888523-2-7

Cover Design: Indie-Spired Designs

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission from the author.

Note to the Reader

This is not Luke’s story.  You can read about Luke and Bethi in Book 3, (Un)wise.  This is Michelle’s story, which starts at the beginning of same summer that Gabby meets Clay.  All the stories connect, and the characters will continue to grow throughout the series.  Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Clotted potatoes stuck in my throat when I tried to swallow.  I tried again, and they slowly slid down.  My overladen plate of food mocked me.  I didn’t want to eat.  I wanted to go hide in my room, away from our dinner guests.  I almost blanched just thinking the word guest.  It didn’t at all describe the men sitting at the table with us.

Blake asked my stepfather, Richard, a question about their latest stock investment, and I dutifully looked up.  Just as quickly, I looked back down at my plate like the meek little mouse Blake wanted me to be.  I didn’t mind playing a meek part when sitting with these men.  Blake didn’t give me any trouble, but the other ten men with him often did.  Dinners went smoother if I kept my eyes on my plate.

Blake sat at one end of the table, and my stepfather sat at the opposite end.  I, unfortunately, always took the middle seat on the side with five chairs.  It gave me more room than if I sat on the other side.  If given a real choice, I would have rather sat next to Richard.

The six men across from me stared at me through the entire meal.  At every dinner, different men stared at me.  How many business associates did Blake really have?  These dinners had been happening since my mother died four years ago.  Once a month, every month.  I hated them.  I felt like a freak on display.  Hey, come on in!  Have dinner with the freaky girl who predicts the market and makes us all rich.  Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.  She’ll do exactly as I say.

I thought of my brothers, who slept in their beds, and forked another bite of potatoes into my mouth.  Yep, I would do as Blake said.  He’d made it painfully clear who he would punish if I didn’t.

One of the men across from me nudged my foot under the table.  I didn’t look up.  It would just play into whatever he planned.  Probably some lewd gesture.  For business associates, as Blake usually introduced them, they dressed more like mill workers, wearing torn, stained jeans and ragged shirts.  They were sometimes unwashed, too.  I didn’t judge them by their appearances, though.  Their actions told me what I needed to know about them.

The man kicked me again, harder.  I tucked my feet under my chair in an effort to avoid his long reach as Blake asked me a direct question.

“Michelle, my dear, are you trying to withhold your latest premonition?”  He sipped his wine and watched me.  Blake’s medium build and salt and pepper hair gave him a distinguished look that hid a very mean personality.

“You know I haven’t,” I said in a quiet, biddable voice as I met his gaze.  If I tried keeping a premonition to myself, I got sick.  First, it was just a niggling headache.  However, the longer I held the information inside, the worse the ache grew until, finally, I broke down and started babbling the information with pain-filled tears.

“Sorry, Blake,” Richard said from down the table.  “Michelle gave me the information yesterday.  When I went in today, I just invested what we discussed last night.  I didn’t think you wanted me to bother you with it.”

I lowered my gaze to my plate again.  A puppet, that’s all I was.  Just then, the man across the table kicked me again.  The hard toe of his boot bruised my shin.  I looked up, eyes blazing with hate, and whispered two words—they rhymed with “pluck you”—that sealed my fate.

In a blur, Blake shot from his chair, sailing toward me over the table.  His hand curled around my throat and the momentum of his move carried me backward, lifting me up.  My long skirt tore when it caught briefly on my tipping chair.  Before I could blink, Blake slammed me against the wall.  My feet no longer touched the ground.

My stunned mind couldn’t comprehend what just happened.  No one should be able to move that fast.

Barely breathing, I panicked and fought to pry away his hand, forgetting to be meek.  He laughed and squeezed my neck a little harder.  My eyes darted around the room looking for help.  Behind him, Richard stood, but said nothing.  No help.  There never was for me.

I focused on Blake.  The calculated look in Blake’s eyes reminded me of his expectation.  Swearing at his “associate” hadn’t been a bright move.  Still trying to wheeze in air, I stopped clawing at his hand and instead wrapped my hands around his forearm for support.  His hold loosened, and I gasped.  The air burned, but I didn’t stop pulling it in greedily.

All the men at the dinner table watched us, and the one who had kicked me, smirked.

“The time for niceties is at an end.  We’ve amassed our fortune.  It’s time for the next step.  You will choose one of us and evolve your abilities as you were born to do.”

I barely heard his words.  His teeth claimed my attention.  As he spoke, they grew.  Elongating.  Already panicked because of the hand at my throat, my racing heart kicked into overdrive at the sight of his canines.  His face changed slightly, his jaw expanding to accommodate his teeth.

He can’t be human.  What is he?

He tightened his grip with his next words.

“You will allow each male here, and every male I bring from this night forward, to scent you.  If we decide you are his Mate, you will bite him and establish your Claim.”

His hold loosened.  Still gasping for air, I didn’t immediately register that my feet again touched the ground.  Bite one of them?  He dropped his hand and moved away from me, but his piercing gaze continued to hold me in place.

“Frank, since she offended you, you can go first.”

Frank quickly leapt over the table, his teeth also abnormally long and pointy.  Swaggering toward me, he leaned in close and licked my neck.  A shiver of revulsion ran through me.

“You’re mine,” he whispered before he moved to allow the next man close to me.

I turned my face from them and pressed myself against the wall.  Despairing, I closed my eyes.  Tears fell from their scrunched corners.  I couldn’t escape.

After the last man leaned in close to my neck and inhaled deeply, Blake commanded me to leave.  I fled to my room and locked the door behind me.

*    *    *    *

When I woke, I found a manila envelope shoved under my bedroom door.  A Post-it decorated the front of it.  I easily read Richard’s scrawl.

Run as fast as you can.  Everything is in your name.

I gazed at those words with a growing feeling of dread.  Somewhere in the house, a phone rang.  I quickly stashed the envelope in my pillowcase without looking at the contents and started to make my bed.  Before I finished, a key rattled and the door swung open.

David eyed me as I stood next to the bed, tugging the quilt into place.  I still wore my pajamas.