Chapter 12
AMBER
The potential sponsor’s estate was outside of Portland, away from the bustle of the city and past the sprawling suburbs. The property was wedged between the Multnomah Channel, just north of where it split off the Willamette River, and one of the small lakes that dotted the area.
Based on the location, which was prime real estate for elves and other races that were fond of the outdoors, she had expected something nice. She stopped the truck at the entrance to the property and turned to look at Ceri.
“Are you sure someone lives here?” she asked. The rusted gate was overgrown with vines, and the driveway had more ruts than gravel. Elves were usually meticulous about maintaining their yards and gardens. They were called the flower children for a reason.
“Yeah,” Ceri said. “He’s a little…eccentric. I’m not really sure what his deal is, but he doesn’t go outside much, and the place is falling apart. Obviously.”
“How do we get in?” she asked, still skeptical.
“Just pull forward,” Ceri said, waving her on. “The gate will open.”
Amber inched the truck forward and, sure enough, the gate creaked open. As she drove through the gate a shiver of magic rolled over her skin. Runes glowed on the stone pillars that held the gate. The vines shivered, and a few reached toward the truck like they wanted to grab it.
“The property is falling apart, but he still keeps active wards on the gate?” Amber asked, incredulous. Those kinds of spells were expensive, not to mention hard to get. Enchanting was a difficult branch of magic that not many practiced; most chose to study witchcraft like Ceri.
“Eccentric, like I said.” Ceri shrugged.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Tommy said. His discomfort crackled through the pack bond like a warning.
Amber silently agreed. The truck bounced down the driveway in the shadow of towering maple trees. It was late October and the branches were heavy with brilliantly colored leaves. It should have been beautiful, but her skin crawled with the sensation of being watched. She wanted to trust Ceri, but she was starting to wonder if the witch actually had any idea what she was getting them into.
The driveway and the lane of trees framed what must have once been a beautiful mansion. The grey stone exterior was hidden behind creeping vines, but what was visible was dirty and worn. The front of the mansion had three sharply angled sides, with towers standing guard on the front corners. The spire on the left one had broken off, and it looked like it had taken half the wooden shingles with it. A tarp covering the hole flapped in the light breeze. A balcony with a crumbling balustrade stretched between the two towers, sheltering the entryway.
Bay windows protruded from the house every few feet, but no light came from any of them. The driveway ended abruptly in front of the house. Amber parked the truck and squinted up at the windows. They were all boarded up from the inside.
“Okay,” Ceri said, appearing to brace herself. “Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s all bark and no bite.”
Amber glanced back at Tommy, already regretting bringing him. He was flighty enough when he wasn’t scared.
“Let’s get this over with,” she sighed, pushing the truck door open. Ceri climbed out on the other side after Tommy.
To the left of the house, set back in the trees, was a cottage. It wasn’t as ornate as the mansion, but it looked cozy with a chimney and a wraparound porch. It must have been the groundskeeper’s house back in the day.
Grass and weeds grew over the cobblestone that was once intended as pathway up to the main house. They picked their way over it, then walked up a short flight of steps. A wide walkway covered in leaves and other debris led all the way around the house.
Ceri walked ahead of the group and approached a dark green door set back in a stone archway. A brass knocker hung askew, pulled sideways by a delicate green vine. She tugged the knocker out of its grasp and rapped firmly on the door three times.
Amber listened intently, but the old mansion remained silent. Ceri waited with hands on her hips, then knocked again, louder this time. The sound echoed through the house.
“You’re sure he still lives here?” Amber asked as the silence continued.
Ceri nodded firmly. “I was here just a few weeks ago.”
“What did you do for him that he owes you a favor now?” Amber asked. She hadn’t wanted to pry before, but she was starting to realize she needed to have a better idea of what she was getting into.
“It’s kind of complicated,” Ceri deflected. She grabbed the knocker and slammed it against the door as hard as she could. “This is stupid,” she muttered. “I know Thallan’s just hiding out in his study being a damn hermit.”
“Then let’s go find him.” Amber walked up to the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. “Seems like an invitation to me,” she said as she pushed the door open with a creak.
“Wait, don’t—” Ceri said, reaching for Amber’s arm.
She shrugged out of her grip and walked inside. The entryway was dimly lit. It would have been completely dark if it wasn’t for the sunlight streaming in through the french doors tucked behind the staircase.
“This is a bad idea,” Ceri muttered as she and Tommy followed her inside.
The house extended in two directions. To their left, the hallway led into darkness, and the floor itself was dusty. To their right, a single light bulb illuminated the hallway. It still looked barely used, but it was moderately clean.
“His study is this way,” Ceri said, pointing to the right.
Amber started down the hallway. She desperately needed a sponsor, but everything about this elf was off. The house seemed abandoned, the grounds were falling apart, and anyone that ignored someone banging on their front door for five minutes obviously didn’t want visitors. She hated needing help like this. She glanced at Tommy and grit her teeth. If it weren’t for her pack, there’d be no way she would stoop to begging a stranger for a handout like this.
Ceri jogged to catch up and walk beside her. “I’m sorry this is so weird, but I really think he’ll help.”
“You didn’t have to try to help me with this. Whether it works out or not, I really appreciate you trying at all,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face.
They passed a few rooms as they walked down the gently curving hallway. The furniture inside was draped with sheets that were covered in a layer of dust. As Amber had seen from the outside, even the windows on the first floor were boarded up. Whoever had done it had simply slapped plywood over the windows without caring what they damaged. The antique wood paneling was split in places from the nails.
Ceri slowed and pointed at the room at the end of the hallway. The door to the study stood open, Amber’s nose twitched as the cloying scent of cigars—or something equally smelly—drifted out of the room. Ceri squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and marched inside.
The study was the cleanest room Amber had seen so far. A tall window overlooking an unruly garden illuminated the space. To her left were bookshelves that extended to the ceiling. A desk covered in stacks of unopened mail sat in front of the shelves.
“Has old age finally gotten to you and made you go deaf?” Ceri demanded. “I knocked for almost five minutes.”
A chuckle emanated from a wingback chair set in front of the tall window. A curl of smoke drifted up from a slender hand that lay on the plush velvet armrest. Thallan tapped a long finger rhythmically against a worn spot on the velvet. “Hearing a knock at the door and caring about it are two different things, little witch,” Thallan said. His voice was smooth, but he sounded strangely tired. “There’s no need to sound so offended. I unlocked the door for you.”
Amber looked at Ceri, wondering if that was possible. Ceri just shrugged.
“I have a couple of friends with me that I’d like to introduce to you,” Ceri said, gesturing at them.
“What do you want?” Thallan asked. “Skip the pleasantries. I know you didn’t come
here to chat.”
Amber stepped forward. “I was bitten a few nights ago, on the full moon along with two others. Since we changed together, I ended up the alpha. No pack will take us, and if I want to be able to stay an alpha, there are these trials I have to go through.”
Thallan’s finger stilled. “And you need a sponsor.”
“Yes,” she said, her fingers curling into a tight fist.
“No,” Thallan said. He didn’t sound angry, or even annoyed, simply uninterested.
“I’m calling in my favor,” Ceri interjected. “You owe me.”
Thallan stood from the chair. White-blond hair extended halfway down his back, the sides neatly plaited. He turned to Ceri. His face must have been handsome once, but a twisted, red scar cut through his patrician features.
“The favor you ask is not equal to the favor owed,” Thallan said sharply. “In fact, the favor I owe you is worth so much less than what you are asking that I find the demand insulting.” The calm tone he had held at the beginning of the conversation was gone. He stubbed out his slender cigar in an ashtray and stalked toward Ceri. “Take your little band of misfits and get out of my house. As a favor, I’ll refrain from calling the police to report you for trespassing.”
Ceri’s pale face went red in anger and embarrassment. “All you’d have to do is put down a bond and show up to the Trials, I don’t see how that’s—”
“I’m not risking that money and what’s left of my reputation on a newly bitten werewolf I don’t even know,” Thallan snapped. “Get out of my house.”
Amber had to turn to face Tommy to keep from lunging at the elf. It had been stupid to think there was a chance he would help. Her hands shook with anger. Tommy watched her with a worried expression. He looked like he was ready to bolt.
“Let’s go,” she said, glancing back at Ceri. Thallan stood in front of the fireplace, disdain apparent on his scarred face. He looked at her briefly before turning back to his window.
Ceri threw one last glare at Thallan, then followed her out the door.
Chapter 13
GENEVIEVE
Genevieve was tired, angry, and hungry. She wasn’t sure why she had bothered to come here. There was no way she’d be able to talk him into helping, but for some reason, she wanted to try.
“Steven, just open the door!” She pounded her fist against the stained dorm room door. She could hear him in there, typing away and ignoring her. Either that or the music blasting out of his headphones was drowning her out. He always listened to it way too loud. He was stupid, and thoughtless, and always so busy with his precious thesis.
Irritation turned to anger, and she took a step back from the door, then slammed her foot into it. The door flew open, splinters of wood flying from where the latch used to be. Steven, who was leaning back in his chair, flailed and toppled out of it.
“What the fuck?” he demanded, ripping his noise-canceling headphones off of his ears.
She stood in the doorway, panting, and asked herself the same question. The door was busted, and it had dented the sheetrock. She hadn’t paused to think before she had kicked the door open, she had been so mad—just like in The Market.
“I—” she hesitated. “I need your help,” she said finally, straightening her shoulders and trying to look reasonable.
“You broke my door down!” Steven shouted, clearly not ready for the calm part of the conversation. “How the hell did you break my door? You weigh like ninety pounds!”
“That’s not important,” she said, brushing a piece of door off her slacks. “The point is, I could really use your help.”
He ran his hands down his face and groaned. “You are insane. Less than a month ago, you dumped me because, and this is a direct quote, ‘you are too clingy, and you never have time for me,’ which is a complete contradiction by the way.” His voice rose into a shout. “And now you’ve literally kicked down my door for no reason because you need my help?!”
She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I was knocking and you didn’t answer.” Maybe kicking down the door had been an…overreaction.
“You were...” He let the thought trail off and stared at her with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve finally cracked. I always thought it was inevitable, but it’s happened. You’ve lost your mind completely.”
“What do you mean it was inevitable?” she demanded, anger shocking her out of her embarrassment.
“You refuse to talk about anything! You bottle everything up and…and let it fester! And now this.” He threw his arms up, waving them over his head like an explosion.
“I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t important,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Oh really,” he said, acting like what she had just said was insulting. “Then please explain what is so important that it compelled you to come back to the one place you swore you would never return to when you dumped me.”
She crossed her arms. “It’s…personal.”
“Get out,” he pointed at the hallway behind her. “Leave now.”
“Fine,” she said, dropping her arms with a sigh. “If it’s that big of a deal I’ll explain.”
“No,” Steven snapped. “I don’t want to hear it. You are still exactly the same, and I am so done. Get out.”
Genevieve wanted to rake her claws across the scowl look on Steven’s face. He’d be sorry then. He’d probably beg to help. He’d…
Genevieve ground her teeth together, turned on her heel, and walked away. She had to, or she knew she would kill him.
Chapter 14
GENEVIEVE
Genevieve hesitated in front of the door, but the smell of Chinese food compelled her to walk inside.
“Hey, sorry I’m…” she trailed off, staring at a woman with curly blonde hair sitting at the table next to Tommy. She was dressed like an elf in frilly dress, but she didn’t have the pointed ears.
“This is Ceri. We met earlier today,” Amber said, nodding toward the woman.
Ceri waved at Genevieve with her chopsticks. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “Me and Amber got into it with some witches.”
“Is that a pixie?” Genevieve asked. A little gray creature was stumbling around on a hand towel, squeaking.
“Yeah, some witches ripped its wings off,” Amber said with a frown. “We saved you a little of everything. Weren’t sure what you liked.” She gestured at the half empty cartons that littered the table.
“Oh thank Merlin. I’m so hungry,” Genevieve exclaimed, dumping her purse by the door. She grabbed a carton and began shoveling food in her mouth.
Ceri passed the pixie a piece of chicken with her chopsticks. It grabbed it, shoving the whole bite in its mouth at once. Its cheeks bulged as it chewed happily.
Genevieve’s wolf growled, anxious and irritated. It didn’t like intruders in the den.
She paused at the thought. Her wolf’s instincts were getting out of hand, and she had no idea how to handle it. Magical law didn’t get into how werewolves controlled their urges, just that they had to.
“Were you working late or something?” Amber asked. Her tone was even and calm, but Genevieve felt the distrust she implied like a punch to the gut. She shifted uncomfortably in her heels and shrugged.
“Yeah, and I might have to work late a few nights this week,” she said before shoving a huge bite of shrimp in her mouth.
It was a lie, and Amber looked like she could tell somehow, but she wasn’t ready to explain everything to her. She wasn’t sure she would get Steven to help, and if she couldn’t there was no reason to give Amber another reason to dislike her. So far, Genevieve knew she had been worse than useless. Getting kicked out of The Market still made her want to die of embarrassment.
The pixie squeaked loudly, then toppled off the table. Tommy’s hand shot out, catching it before it hit the ground.
“Dude, you can’t fly,” Tommy said as he set it back on the hand towel. The pixie flailed its arms angrily, then fell over.
“It will probably take a while for it to understand,” Ceri said, worry creasing her brows.
“What happened to its wings?” Genevieve asked, happy to turn the conversation to a different topic.
Ceri’s face darkened with anger. “Some Blackwood witches ripped them off.”
“Blackwood? Aren’t they that huge coven that owns half of Portland?” she asked.
The pixie glanced at Tommy, then took a running start for the edge of the table. He caught it again and held onto it while it wriggled instead of setting it back down.
“Yeah, those Blackwoods,” Ceri confirmed. “Pixie wings are used in a lot of spells. It’s barbaric to rip their wings off, but they don’t care because they’re just pests.” She spit out the word like a curse.
“It’s mean to mutilate them like that, but they are just frogs with wings,” Genevieve said with a shrug.
“They’re not,” Ceri said, leaning forward and bracing her arms on the table. “No one ever pays attention, but they talk to each other. I think they can understand us to a certain extent, they just can’t speak our language.”
“You think they’re what…sentient?” Genevieve asked, glancing at Amber and Tommy to see if she was the only one that thought Ceri was crazy.
“Everyone looks at me like that,” Ceri said, “and I don’t care. I’ll prove it one day.”
The pixie made another frantic run for the edge of the table and Ceri grabbed him just in time.
“You’re going to have to stick it in the bathtub tonight to keep it from jumping to its death,” Amber said, amused.
Ceri’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t think it’s safe to keep him at home actually,” she said. “If my mother finds out, she’ll chop him up for parts just to spite me.”
Tommy looked up sharply. “Then you have to leave him here,” Tommy demanded. “I’ll take care of him.” He paused and glanced back at Amber. “If that’s okay?”
Misfit Pack (The Misfit Series) Page 7
