Misfit Fortune

by Stephanie Foxe

  The magic became an extension of her body. Another hand or foot to direct as she willed it. The pack bond grew in her chest, fueling the spell.

  She turned her gaze to the curse, then slammed the magic into it. Sparks flew as green crashed into black. A loud screech filled the room and echoed through the tunnels as the competing magics strained against one another. Her hair lifted around her head as the cursed door began to shake.

  Moving quickly, she struck at the weak points, driving the black magic back. It was frayed and weakened by time but it still held the power of a full coven.

  She drew sharply on her connection to Velgo and Ithra. Her temporary coven was non-traditional but together, they were enough. The trolls possessed more magic than she had expected. Ithra felt different today. More determined. Perhaps her love for her son gave her more power than usual.

  Ceri gritted her teeth and continued battering the curse with all her strength and skill. Thread by thread, the curse unraveled. But instead of fading away, it creeped up the magic she had cast at it. She shifted the spell, moving to block the encroaching curse, but it was too late. All at once, inky black magic surged toward her. She grabbed the totem hanging around her neck with her free hand.

  “Contego!”

  Wind swept up around them and pushed back against the curse. It wouldn’t be able to hold it off forever though. She had to end this.

  Holding on tightly to the air totem, she waded into the midst of the swirling magic. There was one last piece of the curse clinging to the stone. One last weak point.

  It was hard to spot it through the haze of green and black, but as soon as she saw it, she directed the full force of the spell to attack that single point. Everything froze, silence hanging in the air for a long second, then, it imploded.

  She was dragged forward, her feet slipping along the stone before the backlash of the magic exploded outward in a shockwave.

  She slammed her hand down on the center of the circle and a protective shield flared up around her and the trolls. Dust sprinkled down from the ceiling as the tunnels shook.

  Tommy appeared in the doorway behind them. “Did you do it? Is it over?”

  Standing slowly, she nodded at Tommy. All traces of magic were gone. “It is. We did it.”

  She looked back at the doorway. The stone was twisted as if it had melted. It wasn’t really stone anymore. The curse had changed it. Warped it.

  The longer a curse was attached to something, the worse the damage it left behind. She squeezed her eyes shut. They needed to find Deward. Soon.

  Chapter 51

  Tommy

  Tommy shifted back to human form and pulled on his clothes, keeping his back to the rest of the pack until they confirmed they were dressed as well. He had to stay stooped over because the ceiling here wasn’t quite high enough for him to stand up straight without bumping his head.

  They had walked for miles. After close to an hour, he’d insisted they shift and run ahead to see how far it went. The coven that had built this tunnel had been insanely dedicated. They must have been smuggling something because he couldn’t fathom any other reason to build tunnels this extensive.

  But now they were finally at the end.

  “My GPS isn’t working down here,” Genevieve said, shaking her phone like that might help it get better signal.

  “We were going east the whole time. We’ve got to be under Portland somewhere,” he said, looking up at the escape hatch. It had been rusted over but it was obvious someone had opened it recently.

  There were footprints all over this area. As well as something even better. A scent. Deward had been here with that elf.

  Amber put her hands on her hips and looked up at the hatch suspiciously. “Alright, I’m going up first.“

  Anticipation mixed with dread made his heart pound in his chest. They could find Deward up there.

  Amber twisted the handle. It turned silently and the hatch popped open. She moved it to the side and jumped up to grab the edge of the opening, pulling herself up just high enough to see.

  She dropped back down and looked at him, confused. “They aren’t there right now but this is not what I was expecting.”

  “Is it safe to go up?” he asked.

  She nodded and waved him ahead. He pulled himself up quickly and saw what she meant.

  “Is this…a museum?”

  There were shelves neatly lined with paintings and boxes. Old statues stood in rows, some missing arms, other heads. He scooted out of the way and dusted himself off.

  The section of the floor they’d come up through would fit neatly into the tile, making it invisible when closed. Amber and Genevieve crawled out after him.

  “Aha! My GPS is working now.” Genevieve tapped at her phone for a moment, then frowned and looked up. “It says we’re in the Portland Art Museum.”

  Amber’s nose twitched and she wandered off through the shelves. “They’ve been this way recently.”

  “How are they getting in and out of the museum’s storage room without being noticed?” Genevieve wondered aloud.

  “Probably the same way they’ve been hiding their scent.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Magic.”

  “Gen, can you call Ceri real quick and update her?” Amber asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Tommy, come with me. Let’s see if we can find where they’re getting out.”

  He nodded and jogged over to Amber, picking up the scent she was following. It didn’t smell like they spent that much time here.

  The path led them through the shelves toward a door that required some kind of code to go through. He paused a few feet away, nose twitching as he noticed that while this path had the strongest scent, it split off.

  “Wait. I think the elf has been this way too.” He followed the lighter scent.

  As he moved away from the well-traveled path, it became easier to follow. It was the elf’s scent but…it was different. Lacking something. It was also older.

  It led to an office door with a sign on it–– Dr. Cassandra Lightvine. He tested the handle and found the door unlocked. Tentatively, he pushed it open.

  Light spilled into a messy office. Tacked to a corkboard on the far wall were pictures he recognized. This Dr. Lightvine had been to the tunnels. She’d inspected the runes. There had been curses in that tunnel that she had broken in order to get to the room that had been burned.

  She’d found the Book of Prophecies.

  Chapter 52

  Genevieve

  Genevieve was hunched over her laptop, scribbling down notes of Cassandra Lightvine. She should have been working but right now, this was more important.

  Cassandra wasn’t just a museum employee, she owned it along with some kind of community garden center, an old house in downtown Portland, and a historical society.

  From what she and Tommy were able to put together, the elvish family had been collecting quite a bit of the old covens holdings. They must have known about the tunnel for ages and maintained the back door entrance when they built the museum. After her parents had died about twenty years ago, it had all been left to her.

  What she wasn’t sure about was whether Cassandra was working alone or not.

  There was a knock on her office door and she quickly minimized her search. “Come in!”

  To her surprise, Agent Icewind walked in. She looked around the tiny space, which was just big enough to fit her desk and a chair. “Nice office.”

  She snorted. “It’s literally a converted closet. How can I help you?”

  “I warned you not to follow Horan.”

  Genevieve’s brows shot up. “We haven’t been. Why do you think we are?”

  Icewind frowned at her, fingers tapping restlessly against her crossed arm. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

  She sighed and threw her hands up. “I don’t know. I’m just not. We’ve had more important things to do.”

  “Where were you yesterday?”

  She pulled out the p
ictures and notes they’d taken from Cassandra’s office. “Running through tunnels built by witches a couple of centuries ago.”

  Icewind picked up one of the pictures. “Okay…”

  “Actually, this is something you should probably know. Consider it an anonymous tip, but the woman that took these photos is the same person that killed Laurel Teller. At least that’s our working theory. Her name is Cassandra Lightvine.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded. “She’s an elf. We think she found something and ended up cursed. I have no idea why she killed Teller but…” Sighing, she thought through her options quickly, but decided it was time to give Icewind a little more information. “She kidnapped a friend of our pack. We think he’s cursed now too.”

  “Let me guess, this friend hasn’t been reported as missing to the police.”

  Genevieve shook her head.

  “Did he help this woman kill Teller?”

  “No. He was taken right after her murder though.”

  “You people have a knack for getting mixed up in some unfortunate situations,” Icewind said drily.

  She shrugged. “Unlucky I guess. You never did say why you thought we were following Horan, by the way.”

  “He was acting weird this morning. Nervous.” Icewind set the picture back on her desk. “I’ll look into Lightvine. If you find anything else, do us both a favor and call me instead of investigating it yourself.”

  “Of course,” Genevieve lied.

  Icewind sighed heavily and turned to leave, shaking her head. “Don’t be stupid, Bisset.”

  The agent shut the door behind herself and Genevieve slumped down in her chair. This was getting complicated.

  They might have the name of the person that had taken Deward but they didn’t know where to find her. Amber was on her right now to check out the other places Cassandra owned but she doubted the crazy elf would be there.

  She shuffled through the pictures, hoping something would jump out at her. A clue. An explanation. They hadn’t found a single reference to Raziel’s key in any of the books or photographs despite Deward and the elf talking about it.

  Raziel sounded like an angel’s name but that was just a guess. Of all the times for Kadrithan to go MIA, this was possibly the worst.

  Her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and almost dismissed the call when she saw it was Steven, but she’d been too absent lately. He deserved better.

  “Hey–-”

  “Gen, I think someone is following me,” Steven whispered.

  She froze. “Where are you?”

  “In the school library. I noticed them when I left my dorm room. They aren’t students. I think…I think they might be werewolves.” His voice shook with fear.

  “Describe them to me.”

  “One guy looks kind of…weaselly.”

  Jumping out of her chair, she sprinted for the door. “Listen. They are from a pack that are targeting us. Do not let them find you or take you. Do you have the emergency kit?”

  “Okay. Okay.” There was a rustling noise. “I, uh, I do have it. But suddenly I don’t feel super confident about using it.”

  “Steven, you have to. I’m coming for you but I’m fifteen minutes away at least. I won’t get there in time.”

  Chapter 53

  Amber

  Amber pulled into the tiny parking lot –– there was room for exactly two cars –– in front of the Lightvine Historical Society’s headquarters. The name sounded impressive, however the building was anything but. It was hidden in an old subdivision among cookie-cutter houses. This one stood out for the simple fact that it was old. Unfortunately, it was also falling apart.

  The grass hadn’t been mowed in what looked like months. Plywood had been tacked up inside a broken window no one had bothered to repair. Beer bottles scattered all over the uneven porch.

  She stepped onto the porch, a board creaking under her foot, and knocked loudly of the front door. There was no reason to think anyone would be in there but she had come here to find out.

  It was deathly silent inside. No heartbeats, no footsteps. She sniffed the door, checking for any signs of magic but it seemed whoever owned this place hadn’t bothered to protect it magically either.

  Her phone rang, cutting through the silence. “Hey Shane, what’s up?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She stopped, her senses going on alert at the tone in his voice. He was upset. “For what?”

  “Due to recent allegations, my alpha has determined that it would put our pack in a dangerous position if I were to continue helping you. Our packs are not allies and I have overstepped.”

  Rejection curled in her gut. It was an ugly but familiar feeling for her. “You sound like you’re reading a prepared speech. You could at least tell me yourself and not just parrot whatever bullshit reason you were given.” She realized belatedly that she was almost shouting by the end.

  “I can’t help with Deward and I can’t see you until your pack is cleared by the MIB,” he continued in a quiet, even tone. “I’m sorry, Amber. I argued against it but there are bigger things at stake here and I can’t…I have to put my pack first.”

  Hearing what Angel had said to her at that party echoed back from Shane’s own mouth was too much to take.

  “Fine.” She hung up. There was nothing more to say. He couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear. The worst part was that he was making the right decision. They weren’t dating. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He owed her nothing and his pack everything.

  There had been potential there but it had never gotten off the ground. There was always something getting in the way.

  A car stopped on the street behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see Agent Horan stepping out of a black suburban. If she had been in wolf form, her fur would have been standing on end. He looked way too smug for this to turn out in her favor.

  “Agent Horan, I didn’t expect to run into you all the way out here,” she said pleasantly as she walked back down off the porch. If her day hadn’t already been bad enough, this was the moldy cherry on a poop sundae.

  He looked at the house. “What are you doing here?”

  She shrugged and glanced back at the house as well. “I was thinking about buying a place in town. Not sure this is the right house though. Can I help you?”

  Horan’s expression shifted to mock pity. “Unfortunately, I’m going to insist you come back to the MIB with me. I have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “What?” A thousand thoughts were racing through her mind. She hadn’t done anything she could be arrested for and she really hadn’t thought Carter would be capable of drumming up something that could put her in this position. Another question niggling at the back of her mind was, how the hell had Horan found her? Only pack knew she was going to this address. It wasn’t exactly on her normal route.

  Then, the worst thought. Had Shane known this was coming and not warned her?

  Horan pulled out an official looking document. “It’s a warrant for your arrest. I assured my superiors you would surrender yourself peacefully so we didn’t have to send a team with guns out to your house.”

  This was crap. He knew it. She knew it. And he knew that she knew. The problem was, if she resisted or ran, he really would have something to arrest her for. And it would make her look bad.

  “I’ll call my beta to come pick up my truck then,” Amber said pulling out her phone.

  Horan nodded congenially. “With me, please.” He stepped back and pulled open the door to the backseat of the suburban. It had a partition cage separating the front seat from the back made of thick steel with what she assumed was bullet proof glass on top.

  She was torn between fleeing what could be a trap and facing it head on. Running now would put the whole pack at risk though and she couldn’t justify it.

  She called Genevieve as she climbed into the back of the suburban. Her phone rang once then went to voicemail.

  “Genevieve, Agen
t Horan has just picked me up with a warrant for my arrest. Please come to the MIB when you get this message.” She hung up, proud of herself for relaying all of that information calmly despite the building rage. This was an abuse of power. She should be able to trust someone in his position but he was a worthless, greedy, cowardly, piece of crap instead.

  “We have to make a quick stop on the way, but it’ll be just a moment,” Horan said, smiling at her in the rearview mirror as he turned left, taking them farther into the subdivision.

  “A quick stop?”

  He nodded as he pulled over to the side of the road behind another car. A muscle car with a gaudy paint job, to be specific. When Carter stepped out and walked toward them, she tried to open her door. It was locked.

  “Horan, let me out or I’m going to break your door.”

  “You can’t break it. It was made with werewolves in mind.” He turned back to look at her through the bulletproof glass. “Do yourself a favor and sit quietly and listen. I don’t want to have to gas you, but I will if I think you pose a threat.” He pointed to a small vent in the ceiling that would fill the backseat with gas that she knew would sedate and weaken her. The addition to police cars had been all over the news for a while. Civil rights groups hadn’t liked it one bit. Right now, she didn’t like it either.

  The other passenger door opened and Carter climbed in, settling into the seat next to her. He adjusted his suit jacket and crossed his legs, looking completely at ease. “Give us a minute, Horan.”

  The agent climbed out and shut the door, leaving her and Carter alone. Her instincts –– wolf and human –– told her this was a very, very bad situation to be in. She doubted this was about killing her. There were easier ways. This was about intimidating her.

  “You know, one of the problems with smaller packs is that you can’t be everywhere at once. It’s why we encourage large packs to stay together,” Carter said, stretching his legs out as far as the space would allow. He seemed perfectly at ease, if not a little eager. “Right now, someone who a normal, well-run pack would be able to protect is being attacked. However, you left them vulnerable.”