(Mis)fortune (28 page)

“The puppet has a brain.  Impressive.”

I wasn’t getting enough of his attention.  “How could I have ever thought of any of you in that way?  I was fifteen when all that started.”  Frank ignored me so I tried again.

“What’s so important about Claiming one of you?  He already had me under his control.”

“Hardly.  Mated to one of us, you’d never be able to run and hide like you did.  We’d sense exactly where you were and come for you.  That is control.  But that’s not the real reason.”

He started walking toward me but paused before he made it halfway.  He tilted his head as if he heard something.  I’d seen that same look on Emmitt; Frank listened to something I couldn’t hear.

I glanced toward the door.  A crackling noise filled the air as the wood bulged.  A moment later, the door flew inward and hit the wall with a loud thud.

Emmitt stood in the opening, outlined by the fading light of the sun.  His grey t-shirt sported several tears and bloody patches.  The rips exposed skin that was blemish free so I knew the blood wasn’t his.  He did, however, have a bruise shadowing his jaw under his emerging whiskers.

His gaze skimmed over me before it locked on Frank.  Anger boiled beneath Emmitt’s features.  He flexed his hands.  His usual pink, blunt cut nails extended into long, lethal grey claws.

Frank crouched and rolled his shoulders.  Spotty patches of fur erupted from his skin and the tips of his now pointy ears.  One leg started to transform, the thigh shortening while the foot elongated.

Tendons stood out on Emmitt’s neck as his canines burst forth from his mouth.  His face started to shift, elongating slightly, making room for his teeth.  I could barely understand him when he spoke.

“Your mistake was her blood,” he growled just before he lunged for Frank.

They met, snarling in the center of the room.  Emmitt grabbed Frank by the shoulders and pulled him in for a head-butt before Frank could swipe at him.  I cringed at the sound of the solid thunk, but Emmitt didn’t seem fazed.  Frank, however, staggered—partially due to his foot.  Emmitt lashed out toward Frank’s chest in a move so fast I almost didn’t catch it.  Frank leapt out of the way.

There wasn’t much room for them to maneuver as they circled each other looking for openings.  Emmitt seemed to be waiting for Frank to do something.  When Frank’s back was to the door, Frank lashed out with his right just after feinting with his left.

Emmitt dodged Frank’s swing, ducked under it, and raked his claws over Frank’s exposed side.  Four bloody furrows erupted.  Frank swore.  His control slipped, and his feet fully sprouted claws and fur. Frank started panting with the effort.

Emmitt gave him no opportunity to recover.  Instead, he pushed Frank harder, striking repeatedly with his claws, once even biting.  Frank didn’t moan in pleasure, then.  His howl of rage ricocheted off the walls.

Through the damaged hotel door, I saw the parking lot lights clicked on and watched three men run from the main office.

“People are coming,” I said to both Frank and Emmitt.  They couldn’t be caught fighting in their current state.

Emmitt nodded slightly and blocked Frank’s swing with his left forearm.  He drove his right fist into Frank’s face.  There was a sickening crack as Frank’s head whipped back.  I glanced at the door again as he staggered.

The men were halfway across the parking lot.  One of them spotted me tied to the chair and pointed.

An odd raspy exhale drew my attention back to Frank just in time to watch him fall hard.  His eyes rolled back into his head.  His face bled from several scratches.  His nose bled, too.  It was badly broken.  I had a feeling Emmitt had been toying with Frank up until that final blow.

The air in the room stirred as Emmitt used his supernatural speed to turn and slam the door shut.  He bolted it before the men could reach it.  Just as quickly, he moved to me.

The men reached the door and started pounding on it.

Emmitt softly swore when he saw my hands.  He knelt and carefully used his teeth to bite through the plastic.

Frank groaned on the floor.

“Hurry, Emmitt.  I think he’s waking up.”

The pounding on the door stopped, and I could hear sirens in the distance.  The plastic band on my wrists popped free, and Emmitt moved to the ones around my ankles.  There, he used his claws to rip through the plastic quickly.  I was sure the sharp tug would leave a mark.

Emmitt stood and yanked the curtains back from the window directly behind me.

I struggled to my feet, cringing at the pain in my head and stomach.  The room tilted dangerously as I hobbled toward the window.

The motel was set on a slight slope.  From here, the room afforded a view of a swamp.  Emmitt slid the window open.  We were only four feet off the ground.  He popped out the screen as the sirens grew to their loudest then stopped altogether.  The sudden silence was eerie.

I turned and shuffled toward Frank.  The movement made me nauseous, and I had to fight the urge to vomit.  I reached into his pocket, and wrapped my fingers around his phone.  I hoped it contained Blake’s number.

Frank twitched on the floor, opening one eye to look at me.  Panic flared until I noticed Frank’s wolf parts shift back to normal man parts.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  Frank wouldn’t do anything; he didn’t appear to have the strength even if he wanted to.  He looked like hell, and part of me actually felt sorry for him.

“Don’t try this again,” I said.  “I choose who I Claim.  Not you.” With effort, I straightened away from him.  My stomach cramped from his rough treatment.

“You’re not the only one,” Frank said, sounding nasal.  He closed his eyes again.

I moved away from him as I tucked the phone into my pocket.  Emmitt waited patiently by the window.  When I got close, he scooped me into his arms; and I suppressed a flinch.

Knowing his intent, I looped my arms around his neck and buried my face against his chest.  I felt him jump out the window and then the rush of wind in my hair.

Risking a peek over his shoulder, I watched the motel fall behind.

*    *    *    *

He ran for a long time.  First, through the marsh behind the motel; then, through the trees that bordered people’s backyards.  When we eventually came to a business area, night had fallen; and he ran on the sidewalk or through parking lots.  He moved with stealthy speed, keeping to the shadows.  No one noticed us.

I had no idea how much time passed, but he finally slowed from a run to a walk.  Lifting my head, I saw we were in a bad area near another sleazy looking motel.  Emmitt held me with one arm as he opened the door for us.  He didn’t seem inclined to let me down, and I was glad.  I had no shoes, and the floor looked like it hadn’t been cleaned.  Ever.

The man behind the desk eyed Emmitt and then me.

“We need a room for an hour,” Emmitt said quietly, his voice back to normal.  “I need soap and a towel.  A clean one.”  He set money on the counter, and the man nodded.  He reached under the counter, handing Emmitt soap and a towel along with a key.

I reached out and grabbed everything.  The man cleared his throat uncomfortably, looking at me.

“You okay, lady?”

“I am now,” I said as Emmitt turned away.  I rested my head on his chest as he climbed a dimly lit set of stairs.

He opened the door for us, and I eyed the room, dismayed to see it in worse condition than the one Frank had used.  The air conditioner rattled ominously, obviously not circulating the dank, musty air that saturated the room.  The bed, though made, looked rumpled.

Emmitt carried me straight to the bathroom.  When Emmitt elbowed the light switch, only one of the three vanity lights flickered on.  Stains decorated the laminate counter around the once white sink.  He didn’t seem to notice.

He sat me on the counter, and I tried not to flinch as places that I’d thought fine started to ache.

He wet the towel and rubbed the soap against it.  Carefully, he cleaned the blood from my face and hair, avoiding the gash in the back of my head.  He worked quickly, but gently.  I didn’t say anything.  Instead, I focused on his face as he concentrated on me.  I loved watching him.  He’d never been this serious around me before.  When he was close to finished, I realized he hadn’t met my gaze yet.

Ignoring what he was doing, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.  He grunted in surprise but didn’t disappoint me.  He kissed me tenderly.  His fingers ever so lightly touched my jawline.  Soon every ache and scrape I had faded to the background.  All I could feel and taste was Emmitt.  I sighed contentedly.  He pulled back from my kiss.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me.

“That’s more like it,” I said with a slight smile.  “If you tell me we don’t have to sleep here, we can kiss all night long.”

My comment seemed to upset him.  His brows drew down slightly, his expression, unreadable.  “How can you even want to look at me?”

It was my turn to make a face.  “What do you mean?”

“I promised you, you would be safe.”

He started to turn away, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him.  It hurt my wrist.  “You’re beating yourself up because I was dumb enough to open the door for Frank?”

He turned toward me again, frustration plain on his face.

I shook my head at him.  I wasn’t mad.  How could I be?  Emmitt had found me before anything really bad had happened.

“To me, safe doesn’t mean I’ll never get hurt.  It means you’ll be there to help pick me back up when I do.  Now, do we really have to stay here?”  I remained on the counter, not wanting to step on the bathroom floor without shoes.

A slight smile lifted his lips.  “This was just to get you cleaned up.  I couldn’t take you anywhere nicer, looking like you did, without someone calling the police.”

He grabbed the towel and started to rinse it.  Vivid pink water ran down the drain.  I wondered how I’d looked to the guy downstairs.  I hoped he wasn’t calling the police.  Regardless, we had to keep moving.

“Frank got a call while I was with him.  Were you followed?”

“Not for very long.  I met up with Carlos and Grey on my way back with our food.  As soon as we entered the lobby, I smelled your blood.”  He rang out the towel and folded it neatly beside the sink.  “We tracked you.  A few of Frank’s friends were waiting.  Grey and Carlos stayed back to deal with them.”

“So, now what?  Are they meeting up with us somewhere?  Do you think the guy downstairs is going to call the cops?”

“Now, we go to another hotel.  You’ll be harder to follow by scent without the fresh blood.  I’ll call my father to make arrangements when we find a payphone.  He’ll coordinate with Grey.”

Just then, the phone in my pocket started to buzz.  Pulling it out, I looked at the screen.  I didn’t recognize the number but didn’t expect to, considering the phone belonged to Frank.

I met Emmitt’s gaze as I answered it.

“Michelle,” Blake’s voice boomed through the receiver.  “Good to hear you sounding so well.  I was afraid Frank might have been a bit rough.”  His voice conveyed no concern.

“He was as gentle as a lamb,” I said it without inflection, but Emmitt’s face grew red again.  “Why are you calling, Blake?”

“Isn’t this why you took Frank’s phone?  To talk to me?”

So, Frank had managed to get out and call Blake.  I’d hoped he sat in a jail cell somewhere by now.

“I guess it is.  I have a lot of questions and, according to Frank, you’re the only one who will answer them.  What’s an Urbat?  What decision was I supposed to make, and who are my sisters?”

There was a long pause before he answered.  “Ah.  I see.  I’ll explain everything if you meet with me.”  He sounded confident and reassuring.

“I’m already meeting with you.  Tomorrow morning.  Didn’t the lawyer call you?”

“Yes, of course.”  A hard edge crept into his voice.  “I was hoping for something a bit more private.”

“I don’t think that’d be in my best interest.  At least, not until I Claim my Mate.”

Emmitt’s anger vanished as I spoke.  Instead, he appeared slightly sad.  I wished I knew what he was thinking.

Blake’s frustrated growl distracted me, and I smiled.  “Come on, Blake.  You don’t think I’m going to sit around and wait for you to try this again, do you?”

“Then, we part ways for now.  You’ll hear from me again, though.”

Before he could hang up, I added, “Oh, and I spoke with the court appointed executor.  Looks like you’ll have to spend your own money and leave mine alone.”

He wasn’t quick enough to disconnect the call.  I heard him swear before the line went dead.

I tossed the phone in the garbage and smiled at Emmitt.  He shook his head at me in disbelief and plucked me from the counter.

In less than our allotted hour, we left the seedy hotel.  Emmitt once more cradled me in his arms as he ran carefully, sticking to the shadows and putting distance between the hotel and us.

Even with his smooth pace, my head throbbed with each step.  Nausea continued to roll in my tender stomach.  I didn’t acknowledge any of it because I knew he was worried; I felt him look down at me several times.

“I’m okay,” I said running my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull.

He lightly kissed the top of my head.

A few minutes later, we found a payphone.  I held the receiver to Emmitt’s ear and dialed since he wouldn’t put me down.  I didn’t mind.  The position allowed me to lean close and listen to the conversation.

Emmitt’s father let out a relieved breath when he heard Emmitt’s hello.

“Grey called,” Thomas said.  “He and Carlos dealt with your would-be followers.  Are you two safe?”

“Are my brothers safe?” I asked before Emmitt could answer.

“They are.  We had two incidents earlier, but everything is quiet now.  Mary and Gregory are with the boys, and several of our pack are patrolling.”

I sagged with relief.

“Michelle’s been hurt,” Emmitt said, his voice deceptively calm.  He shushed me when I tried to insist I felt fine. “She needs to rest.”

I heard Thomas cover the phone with his hand.  A murmur of voices continued for several seconds before Thomas came back on and asked us to wait while Charlene booked us another room.  I could hear Charlene speaking rapidly in the background but couldn’t make out the words.  After a few minutes, Thomas gave Emmitt directions to a new hotel.

“Emmitt, be careful.”  There was a lot of love in those three words.

“We will,” Emmitt said.

I hung up the phone, and Emmitt took me by surprise with a long kiss.  He poured his relief into it, tenderly holding me close.  In the distance, someone shouted encouragement.  It cooled the moment.  Emmitt pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, breathing deeply.

“I won’t be able to let you go for a while.”

I kissed his cheek in response.  He walked away from the phone, carrying me snugly.  Once he reached the shadows of a side street, he sprinted away from our audience.

*    *    *    *

A smiling attendant greeted us outside the new hotel and moved to open the door for Emmitt as we approached.  I felt silly being carried but didn’t try to get Emmitt to put me down, yet.

The red and gold patterned carpet in the expansive reception area muffled Emmitt’s steps, and every piece of highly polished metal we passed gleamed in the lights.

The person behind the desk welcomed us with a smile.  “Mr. Cole.  Good to see you.  Your mother’s description was very accurate.”  The man held out a room card, which I accepted on Emmitt’s behalf.  “Room service will be up with your meal.  Please let me know if you need anything else.  I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Neither Emmitt nor I said anything for a moment.  I wondered what Emmitt’s mom had done or said to have completely registered us before our arrival.  The man should have at least made us sign something.

As long as he was being accommodating, I decided to see if he could help a little more.  “Do you think someone could get me some socks and shoes?  I lost mine.”

The man smiled serenely and nodded as if it were an everyday occurrence to have a guest request shoes.  “I’ll have something delivered as soon as possible.”

I thanked the man, then Emmitt turned away, heading toward the bank of elevators.  I pressed the button for Emmitt, and he stepped in as soon as the doors slid open.  After checking the number on the room card’s envelope, I selected the top floor.  The doors slid shut, and the elevator started moving.

“Could you set me down?  I don’t want to attract any more attention than we already have.”

He grudgingly obliged, but as soon as he set me on my feet, he wrapped my hand in his and rubbed his thumb in slow circles against the pulse in my wrist.  I stood carefully, trying not to wince at the aches I felt.

When the elevator chimed and the doors whispered open, Emmitt breathed deeply before we both stepped out into a deserted hallway.

“Are we okay here?” I asked softly.  I didn’t think he’d scented anything but after being taken once, I was feeling cautious.

He pointed to a camera mounted just outside the elevator.  “Better security.”

He led me left from the elevator.  Our movements were strangely hushed, making me feel like we were in a library rather than a hotel.  Several feet down the hallway, just before the first numbered door, I noticed another camera.  This hotel definitely had more security.  And more space.  The doors were so far apart, I wondered what kind of room Charlene had gotten for us.

Our room card opened the second door on the right side of the hall.  Decorated in neutral colors with black accents, the suits of rooms not only looked clean but smelled clean, too.  The door closed behind us with a click.  After one last swipe of his thumb, Emmitt released my hand.

The light cream walls of the kitchenette flowed into main room where a fireplace danced with electric flames.  The leather sofa and oversized chair beckoned, but I hesitated to step from the dark laminate floor that ran from the entry door to the light carpet.  I didn’t want to leave dirty footprints.

I noticed a bathroom through an open door to the right.  It was immaculately clean, and I stared in grateful appreciation.  Three times larger than the one at home, it had a glass corner shower with dual shower heads, a whirlpool tub big enough for two, and a heated towel rack.

“I call dibs on the tub,” I whispered, half-reverently.

Emmitt laughed but didn’t follow me as I drifted into the bathroom, flicking on the lights.  I moved to the tub and turned on the water.  Fluffy, white towels sat on the tub’s ledge along with a pair of white robes.

When I saw the robe, I paused.  It struck a familiar chord, but I couldn’t place why.  Given the other crappy hotels, I was sure it hadn’t been because of them.  I continued staring at it.  Seeing it didn’t alarm me; it made me feel like I’d forgotten something important.

Absently, I wandered from the bathroom, forgetting to worry about my feet as I looked around again.  Nothing in the kitchen or living area looked familiar, and I started to doubt the odd feeling I’d gotten.

Emmitt, who sat on the sofa, lifted his head from his hands and watched me with a sad light in his gaze.  I crossed the carpet, sat beside him, and rested my head on his shoulder.

“Don’t dwell on the past.  It doesn’t do any good.”

He kissed my forehead.  “Go take your bath.”

Reaching around him, I gave him a quick hug then got up to inspect the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” he asked with curiosity in his voice.

“Just checking things out.  Something seemed familiar, and I can’t figure out why.”

I moved to the doorway and froze.  The king-sized bed with a white down comforter dominated the room.  Two towels folded into swans faced each other at the end of the bed.  Their heads and necks formed a heart.  On the wall above the bed, a black, white, and brown abstract painting hung.  To the left, long black and brown patterned curtains dominated the wall.

This was the room from the vision where I bit Emmitt.  My stomach dropped, and a blush consumed my face.  My stomach continued twisting nervously, and my heart gave a quick unsteady beat.

“Are you okay?” Emmitt asked quietly from behind me.

Startled, I jumped and turned.  “Yep.  Fine.  I’m going to rinse in the shower then take a nice long soak.  Let me know when the food’s here, okay?”  My gaze drifted to his throat briefly before I forced it back to his eyes.

He tilted his head, probably trying to figure out what I wasn’t saying.  I just smiled nervously and moved to step around him.  He mirrored my move, blocking me.

“Michelle, tell me.  What is it?  Should we leave?  Find another room?”  Concern etched his face.

Despite my discomfort, I couldn’t let him worry.  I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest.  His heart beat strong and steady.  Mine still raced.

“No.  The room is fine.  I just connected it with a vision I had.”

“What was the vision about?”

I made a face against his chest, not wanting to say anything, but knowing he’d think the worst, if I didn’t.

“You and me.”  I pulled away, feeling nervous.  Then, the filter between my brain and my mouth broke.  Every thought that crossed my mind spilled from me unedited.

“I don’t want to bite you.  I don’t care if it looked like you liked it or not.  It’s going to hurt you, and I just don’t think I can do it.  Not yet.”

He quickly masked his shocked expression and didn’t try to stop me when I fled toward the bathroom.  I wasn’t nervous about being “engaged” to Emmitt.  The biting part scared me.  I’d bit Frank because I was angry and desperate.  I’d meant it to hurt him.  Granted it hadn’t, and all I had to show for it was the lingering taste of rotten soup in my mouth, but still...

I glanced back at Emmitt just before I stepped into the bathroom.  He watched me with concern.  I’d put him through enough lately, and as I turned away, I wished I could take back my mental spill.

I left the door ajar for comfort; I needed to be able to hear him moving around out there.  Though I wasn’t about to let myself dwell on the mistake I’d made when I’d opened the door for Frank, I wouldn’t soon forget the fear.

The tub was at least halfway full, so I shut it off and moved to the shower.  I was about to peel off my clothes when I realized they were the only ones I had.  The hotel probably had a laundry service but what would they think of the blood that smattered my shirt?  I stepped out of my shorts, but kept the rest on as I ducked in under the spray.  First, I peeled off the shirt, cleaning it with shampoo until the bloodstains were gone.  Then I rinsed my under things.  I rung everything out and hung the clothes over the glass shower door.

The water ran pink again when I washed my hair.  Would I really be Claiming Emmitt tonight with a head injury?  What kind of crazed person was I?  The word “tonight” echoed in my head.  I needed to think about something else.  I needed a toothbrush.

I ran my fingers along my scalp to assess the damage.  Wincing at the sting of the shampoo, I determined the blood was from a scrape rather than a cut.  Relieved there wouldn’t be a need for stitches, I hurried to rinse.  Then I washed my mouth out with soap.

Free of the blood and Frank’s lingering smell, I quickly moved to the tub and eased into the hot water.  When I started the jets, the water churned so much, the level rose to the rim.  I leaned back and sank down so it lapped at my chin.  Slowly, I began to relax.

My mind drifted to everything Frank had said and the call with Blake.  Talking to Blake hadn’t been as helpful as I hoped.  Could I trust that he’d really given up on me for now?  I thought so.  At least, Frank’s comment about me not being the only one made it a possibility.  Yet, I wondered what “sisters” I had that Blake meant to find.  It disturbed me to think of another woman having to deal with Blake like I had as much as it frustrated me that I hadn’t gotten the answers I wanted.  I had a lot to share with the group when we got back, though.  Maybe some of them would have more insight.

The water hadn’t even had time to cool when I heard a knock on the outer door.  I fumbled with the jets, turning them off, and listened.  Emmitt walked by the bathroom door.  I sunk low in the water, but he only pulled the door shut as he passed.

I left the water as quietly as possible, grabbed a towel, and quickly dried off.  All the while, I strained to hear anything.  Was it too quiet out there?  I tossed on the robe, crept toward the door, and pressed my ear against its surface.

“Food’s here.”

I jumped at the sound of Emmitt’s voice directly on the other side of the door and yanked it open in time to catch his slight smirk.

“Not funny.”  I pulled the belt tightly around my waist and flinched when my bruised stomach immediately protested.

His expression grew serious, and he looked me over as I loosened the belt.  When his eyes lingered on the side of my head, I turned slightly to show him the scrape.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” I said turning to look at him again.  He wasn’t eyeing my head anymore, but the robe.  Too late, I realized what I’d done.  The vision had shown me in a robe.

Before I could become more nervous, he indicated the food he’d set out on the kitchenette’s island.  His mother had ordered steaks topped with blue cheese, sides of mushrooms, and baked potatoes with the works.  There were three full meals.  My tender stomach rebelled at the thought of eating so much, but I knew it wasn’t all for me.  Emmitt needed more food due to the miles he’d covered.

I settled on one of the stools, heard a clink, and looked down to see one of the meals already set in front of me.  I opened my mouth to argue, but Emmitt gave me a warning look.  Was I two-years-old, now?  Yet, I kept quiet about why I didn’t want to eat.

The scrape on my head and marks on my wrists and ankles were enough for him to worry over.  I wasn’t about to give him a full inventory of my aches so he could dwell on each one.  He was already upset Frank had gotten me.  If he knew the extent of it, he’d just feel worse.