Misfit Fortune

by Stephanie Foxe

  As she rounded a corner, someone grabbed her arm roughly. She whirled on the assailant, finding a man who looked like he should be a wereferret rather than a werewolf. He pressed a finger to his lips and nodded toward a small, dark space under the stairs.

  She was torn between telling him to take a walk and following him. He was practically shaking with nerves though, so whatever he had to tell her might be important. Or it could be a trap.

  Gritting her teeth, she followed him, senses on high alert for an ambush. The sounds above them were muted by the thump of feet as people began walking around and loudly discussing the Trials.

  Beads of sweat glistened on the guy’s upper lip as his eyes darted around. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this.”

  “Ok,” Genevieve said as calmly as she could. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “The MIB is looking into your pack. And I don’t mean casually. Carter is trying to get them evidence that you know more about all that no magic zone stuff. I don’t want to be involved in this. The guy is fabricating evidence, you know? Someone is paying him to do it. But I can’t just step down as beta and then end up an omega. So I’m staying out of it after this.”

  Anger surged through her, but she tamped down on it. Now was not the time to rage. “Thanks for telling me. That was really brave of you.”

  The man snorted. “Don’t patronize me. I’m just doing this out of guilt. Remember, I didn’t tell you shit. I’ll deny it if you try to claim I did.”

  “Got it,” she said with her best lawyer smile. “Anything else you want to pass along before you run away like a scared rabbit?”

  He scowled at her. “Stay off Ito’s radar. You think Carter hates bitten wolves? He hasn’t got anything on that wily bastard.”

  “Noted.” It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already suspected, but having it confirmed filled her with unease. There was nothing publicly available on his views which had led her to believe he didn’t support bitten wolves. Knowing that he was actively working against them could be a problem in the future.

  The man scurried off. She waited in the dark corner for a moment longer, not wanting it to be too obvious they’d been talking.

  Her hands shook a little as she pulled her phone out. She thought about texting Amber but didn’t want to dump this on her in the midst of all this. She could probably feel her anger and fear though, so she’d have to explain it somehow.

  The MIB’s involvement was serious though. The FBI handled most investigations, while the MIB –– Magical Investigations Bureau –– was only brought in for the most dangerous cases involving supernaturals. Honestly, it made sense considering a sorcerer was involved, but it scared her.

  She texted Amber a brief explanation with reassurances it could be dealt with after the conference was over then shoved her phone back in her pocket.

  “Genevieve?” Paul asked, sounding amused to find her hiding under the stairs. “What are you doing?”

  “I was looking for you, but had to make a work call real quick,” she said, burying the worry at the back of her mind until it could be dealt with. “You did amazing!”

  “Thank you,” he said, returning her smile. “I appreciate the support from you and Amber. Especially you.”

  A blush began creeping up her neck. “I…it’s just been good to help someone succeed. Finding a sponsor is hard.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, some of the warmth leaving his face. He didn’t seem angry, but he was pulling back. She let him.

  “I’ll see you around at the after party. My pack needs to run, and so do I.”

  “Congratulations again,” she said with a soft smile.

  He nodded and jogged back toward his pack. She retreated further back into the dark recess and put her head in her hands, wishing Amber was down here with her and that Mr. Ferret had never dumped that news on her.

  Chapter 21

  Derek

  Derek squinted at Tommy. The kid was drunk. Then again, so was he. Troll liquor packed a punch. He wasn’t sure how he was still standing.

  “You’re not winning this one,” Derek said, trying to force his eyes to focus down the length of the potato gun. There was no sight, after all, it was a potato gun, but he could still line it up pretty well.

  Tommy scoffed at him. “Just because you’re from Texas doesn’t mean you can outshoot everyone.”

  He pulled the trigger, sending the potato thunking straight into the center of the target. “Nah, but ten years in competitive shooting in 4H does.”

  Tommy lined up his own shot, arm wavering unsteadily. It went wide, missing the target entirely. Tommy turned on him with a glare. “You…you cheated.”

  Derek ruffled Tommy’s hair. “I’m just better, teen wolf.”

  “Don’t call me that, old man,” Tommy retorted, shoving his hand away. “Ceri, do something with him. His ego is getting out of hand.”

  Ceri snorted. “Don’t think I can fix that.”

  “You totally could, Cece. We all know you’re bangin’. Sound proofing can’t hide your scent all over each other.” Tommy immediately burst into giggles, making a gagging noise.

  “Call me Cece again and I’ll switch your head with your butt,” Ceri said with a glare, her fingers twitching threateningly. “I know exactly the spell to do it.”

  Deward jogged over, half-tackling Tommy. “It’s time for chess, come on!”

  The troll dragged Tommy away amid a flurry of questions, pausing to grab another drink for both of them.

  “He’s going to end up barfing all over everything,” Derek said, squinting so he could see better.

  Ceri snorted and held a bottle of water up in front of his face. “I don’t think he’ll be the only one at this rate.”

  He grabbed the water and glared at her unsteadily. “Why aren’t you drunk?”

  “Maybe I can hold my liquor, unlike some people.”

  “Pshhhhh. You’re way smaller than me.” He put his hand on top of her head to demonstrate how short she was. “I could drink you under the table.”

  She brushed his hand away and stepped in closer. “I’m Irish. I have a clear genetic advantage.”

  He was pretty sure she was flirting with him. “Is that so?”

  “It is so.”

  “I bet our kids will be able to hold their liquor and be tall. Then they’ll be invincible.”

  She froze and her eyes went wide. “Our what?”

  Whoops. What was in this troll liquor? “Ummm…”

  “Derek, we’re not…” she sighed, looking around for some kind of escape. “Drink lots of water. I’m going to, uh, go find food.”

  “Derek! Come play chess with us!” Tommy shouted, running back over and grabbing him by the arm.

  He let Tommy drag him away without protest. Maybe Ceri would forget what he said. “I suck at chess, just so you know.”

  “This is better than normal chess. Look!” Tommy pointed at a raised, bamboo platform surrounded by a pit of sand.

  “What is that?”

  “Living chess. We get to be the pieces. Deward is running our team.”

  “How do we get to be the pieces?” Derek asked, the alcohol making his head spin.

  “If someone moves to take another piece, they have to fight whoever is there. It’s kind of like sumo, you have to force them out of their spot.”

  “Fighting while drunk? No way that could go wrong.”

  Tommy grinned at him. “Trolls are awesome.”

  Deward was directing the trolls he’d chosen around his board and handing out sashes. He gave Tommy two, nodding in greeting at Derek.

  “We’re white.” Tommy draped a sash around his neck that had the symbol of a bishop on it, then pulled on his own that showed a piece Derek didn’t recognize. “Alright, I’m on d1. You’re on c1.”

  Derek squinted at the board. “Where?”

  “Over here.” Tommy dragged him to the spot third square from the left, then took the position next to him. Each square
was about five feet by five feet, which made for a massive chess board. It made sense if they had to fight in the squares though.

  Derek looked at Tommy, not sure what the symbol on his sash represented. “What are you?”

  “The queen.”

  “That’s an important piece, right?”

  “They’re all important but I have the most flexible movement. Oh, speaking of important, do not move unless Deward tells you too or it’ll count as his turn.”

  Derek mock saluted him. “As you command, my queen.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes.

  A whistle was blown and everyone quieted down as the last players scrambled to their spots. Deward stood to the right of Tommy, arms crossed and a serious expression on his face. Across the board, mirroring his position, was Deward’s father, Olwen.

  “E2 to e4,” Deward shouted, his voice cutting through the silence. A hushed whisper rolled through the crowd as one of the trolls with a pawn sash moved forward two places.

  “E7 to e5,” Olwen countered. The black pawn moved forward, stopping right in front of his adversary. They glared at each other, both of them tense.

  Derek expected them to brawl right then and there but they held their positions. Through the drunken haze, he remembered that pawns could only attack at an angle. Or something like that.

  “F2 to f4,” Deward said confidently. A second pawn moved forward without hesitation, taking up position next to the first.

  Olwen chuckled. “Pawn takes f4. King’s gambit accepted, though I did expect something more imaginative.”

  Deward grinned at the taunt. “We’ll see.”

  The black pawn moved quickly, lunging at the white pawn diagonal from him. They struggled for a few moments, but the black pawn roared and shoved the white pawn. He lost his footing and fell out of his square. A cheer rose from the crowd. The black pawn helped the white pawn back up and patted him on his back, then the white pawn walked to the side of the board as the victor took his place.

  “F1 to c4,” Deward called out, not phased by the loss of his pawn. He and Olwen continued calling out their moves. Deward’s other bishop took a pawn, then a few moves later, was defeated by one of Olwen’s pawns.

  Derek tried to follow along but he was iffy on the rules of chess on a good day. Tommy was called away and joined a few other pieces in surrounding a black pawn, but Olwen’s queen was there too –– who Derek belatedly realized was Deward’s mother.

  “Bishop takes f4,” Deward called out. No one moved.

  The knight to his left jabbed him in the ribs. “That’s you.”

  The black pawn that was surrounded waved at him . “Let’s go, little human. Unless you’re scared?”

  He narrowed his eyes at the troll. So what if the guy had fifty pounds and five inches on him? He could take the green bully. “You wish, pawn.”

  Derek had been watching when this big oaf had tossed the last person off the board. The troll was relying on his size to push people around.

  As he approached, the troll lowered his head like a bull. Derek stepped into the square with him and crouched slightly so it looked like he was going to make a stand. He’d been the runt of the family until he turned seventeen and filled out. He knew how to fight people bigger than him.

  The troll charged, barreling toward him with three-hundred pounds of pure muscle and determination. Derek dropped and lunged forward, catching the troll at the knees with both arms, then lifted. He pushed off hard with his left foot, angling them just enough so that when the troll’s feet left the ground, he tumbled right out of the square into Deward’s mother.

  Ceri was cheering in the crowd, a smile on her face. Seeing that felt even better than winning the spot.

  Derek straightened and saluted the fallen pawn. “The bigger they are the harder they fall.”

  The troll laughed and stood back up, holding out his hand to Derek. “Well fought.”

  The moves continued around him. More and more white pieces fell as Deward directed his pieces across the board. He was moved once more, ending up all the way on the other side in enemy territory.

  Tommy ended up a couple of spaces to his right. The crowd seemed very excited about this, shouting encouragement at Deward and Olwen, who directed his knight to challenge Tommy. The kid fought bravely but ended up getting stomped, his reflexes slow from the alcohol.

  “Sorry, Deward!” Tommy called as he limped off to the side.

  Deward simply smiled and said, “Bishop to e7.”

  He managed to recognize that meant him this time and hurried to the empty spot, waving at Olwen, who was diagonal to him.

  Olwen sighed heavily.

  “Checkmate,” Deward said proudly.

  Whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd as Olwen nodded, accepting his defeat. He met Deward in the center of the board, shaking his hand.

  Derek followed the others as they returned to the crowd, clearing so the next game could get set up. He looked for Ceri for a few minutes but she was nowhere to be found.

  “Hey, there you are!” Tommy said, running up behind him.

  “Have you seen Ceri?” he asked.

  “Yeah, she said she’d be back to pick us up but she had something to do.” Tommy holding a drink for him. “Sorry, man. I heard the whole kid thing.”

  Derek took the drink and chugged it. “What game are we playing next?”

  Tommy slung his arm around him. “I think a brutal game of Scrabble is just what you need.”

  He lowered his glass. “Scrabble?”

  Tommy nodded solemnly. “Scrabble.”

  Shaking his head with a laugh, he followed Tommy through the crowd to the next distraction.

  Chapter 22

  Amber

  Just two more hours until she was free. All Amber wanted was to get home to her pack before the full moon was over. Shane had promised to drive her and Genevieve back tonight no matter how late.

  The celebrations were getting…enthusiastic now that the Trials were over. Paul was maintaining his usual air of coolness, but the other new alphas were enjoying the open bar to its fullest extent.

  She was surprised Angel hadn’t showed up for the Trials or the dinner. It was disconcerting to find she felt vulnerable without him.

  Someone tapped Amber’s shoulder politely. She turned and saw a striking woman that she hadn’t noticed at the conference.

  Her black hair was twisted up in a fancy french knot. The blouse she wore wasn’t anything crazy but it somehow managed to look more expensive than Amber’s entire wardrobe. She suddenly felt severely underdressed.

  “I hate to tear you away from the festivities, but I heard you’d been looking for me,” the woman said with a warm smile that lit up her already strikingly beautiful face.

  “I have?” Amber asked before she could think of a better response. “Sorry, I’m Amber Hale, what was your name?”

  “Tatiana Vernier, a fellow alpha,” the woman said, shaking her hand firmly.

  “Oh,” Amber said, smiling broadly in an attempt to make up for the awkward greeting. “I was starting to think you weren’t actually here.”

  Tatiana laughed. Even that was elegant. “You’ve been…busy. It’s not surprising you hadn’t spotted me yet.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, busy is one word for it.”

  “If you have time now, I would love to chat. It seems like a good time to slip away without drawing too much attention.”

  “Sure, they don’t need me for this,” Amber agreed with a nod. She glanced back at Genevieve but her beta was distracted with Paul.

  Tatiana led her away from the crowds to a small alcove hidden away in a corner. It was quiet here, almost as if the sound was magically cut off.

  “I snuck away some snacks for us,” Tatiana said, gesturing to two plates on a low table between plush chairs. She picked up one and settled in the chair near the wall. “Have a seat, relax. This is a just a chat between girls. No need to be formal.”

  Amber nodded and
sat in the other chair. It was a little too soft so she had to scoot to the edge to keep from sinking into it.

  “So, how long have you had a shaman in your pack?” Tatiana asked without preamble, as if it was a perfectly natural thing to ask.

  Amber tensed immediately, her wolf rising up in her mind on alert for a threat. This was exactly what they’d wanted to avoid during this conference. How did this woman know? Had Jameson told her?

  “You didn’t think you were the only one, did you?” the woman said with a sly smile, seemingly amused at Amber’s shock. “There aren’t many of us, and none of us talk about it. It’s a nice trump card, after all.”

  Amber cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess I did think I was the only one. Or at least one of very few.” Not even Angel could throw her off like this. Tatiana wasn’t just a pretty face, she was calculating. “How long has the shaman been in your pack?”

  “Oh, for years.”

  She picked up the plate Tatiana had offered her just to have something to do with her hands. “How does no one know you have a shaman in your pack?”

  The other alpha leaned back and crossed her legs. She exuded all the confidence Amber wished she possessed. “Mostly because I make sure I’m easily overlooked. I also knew what it meant when I invited the witch into my pack, so it was simpler to keep it under wraps. I’m getting the impression you stumbled into this somehow, which frankly, is baffling. And interesting.”

  Amber couldn’t help but glance nervously over her shoulder before nodding. “Yeah, we did stumble into it. Who told you…?”

  “They can’t hear us,” Tatiana said with a wink. “And no one told me. I just did a little digging after that sorcerer attacked your pack. It was easy to put two and two together if you know what you’re looking for, and I do.”

  “Ah, I guess it would be,” she admitted.

  “This witch, have you given her your pack bite?”

  She frowned and resisted the urge to fidget. “No, is that necessary?”

  Tatiana shrugged. “Not really. It can cement the pack bond and ensure a higher level of loyalty but that doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. But that’s enough of that, what did you want to talk to me about?”