Mother's promised revenge never eventuated because the next day, I got kidnapped.
The day started out like any other; Mother bashed on my door to demand I go downstairs for breakfast, and once I was done eating, she ordered me out the door before she forgot herself and threw something at me. Of course, she'd never be able to follow through, but she was angry enough to try, regardless of the consequences, and I wasn't interested in finding out to what lengths she'd go to achieve her goal of giving me one hiding, at least.
The sky was overcast as I set out, but the promised rain had never eventuated, and I was glad for it; I had holes in my sneakers, and Mother had outright refused to buy me a new pair, saying I didn't deserve it. The rest of the pack were also not speaking to me at the moment, and neither were the staff. They'd been my friends, but Mother had turned them against me in the wake of Faith's elopement, and now I had no one to turn to. Some days I regretted speaking out, but I reminded myself, as I always did when those doubts came up, that Faith was still my sister at the end of the day, and I didn't want to see her and her unborn children become the pawns of both her mother and mother-in-law. There was no telling to what unholy lengths Beth and Mother would go to seize their grandchildren, and I reasoned I'd done Faith an immense service by giving her the means by which she could take control of her destiny.
Mine wasn't looking rosy, though; Father had told me - through Mother, since he wasn't speaking to me at the moment - that he planned on sending me to the camp when I turned eighteen, thus killing any chance I had at leaving the house and forging my own path the way Faith had done. According to him, I'd betrayed everything the pack stood for, and by doing so, I'd disgraced their name forever. I told him - through Mother, again - that he'd done that himself when he'd sought to defy a direct edict from another alpha by way of deceit and misdirection, and he deserved every shred of condemnation he was still getting for that act.
Father had about had a fit, and Mother had warned me he was ready to bring my sentence forward if I didn't shut my mouth. I told the both of them to shove it, and that was why, this morning, I was glad there was no rain. I didn't want wet feet, and I didn't want to run the risk of catching cold.
At the last corner before the school came into view, the worn strap on my shoulder bag finally snapped after years of faithful service, and I swore as I stopped to grab the bag before it fell and disgorged its contents all over the countryside. Luckily I had enough time, but as I started across the street, I had to move fast to avoid being mown down by a sleek black Ferrari, getting a good honk for my troubles. I flipped the Ferrari off in retaliation, before starting on the last leg of my walk. Ten seconds later, the Ferrari came back, this time tailing me at a leisurely cruise, and I stopped, my heart racing in sudden fear. I didn't want to lead the driver to my school, but the police station was a fifteen minute walk in the other direction, and I'd never have the time to go there to let anyone in charge know what was going on.
In any case, the decision was taken out of my hands. A bolt of pure white light arced out from the driver's side window, and I gasped as bands of white energy encircled me from head to toe, immobilising me. My bag fell slipped from nerveless fingers, and another bolt of light struck me again, this time taking me between the eyes and knocking me out. My last thoughts were of terror and anger as I reviled my parents before passing out completely.
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When I woke, I found myself lying in a four-poster bed. Outside, the deferred rain had made a triumphant return, and thunder boomed overhead. It was a proper storm now, and I sat up, rubbing my aching head. I was still a bit sore from the two bolts which had taken me, but I was relieved to discover I wasn't bound in any way, and when I tested the door knob, it turned in my hand.
This wasn't the camp.
And wherever it was, it had money behind it. To be fair, the wallpaper was cracked and peeling in places, there was a faintly damp smell to the air, and half the old lightbulbs in the long hallway had gone out, plunging parts of it into darkness. The hallway was also cold, thanks to the high ceiling, but despite the worn carpets, the place was definitely a rich one. Or had been.
I eventually came to a flight of stairs, and I made my hesitant way down, gripping the bannister like a lifeline. At the first landing, I stopped, noticing that this floor of the house was not quite as shabby, and when I got to the ground floor, it was like stepping into another house altogether. The place was all marble floors, gilded candles, brightly gleaming wood and rich carpets. I wandered in a daze, until I came at last to a richly appointed sitting room, with thick carpets, velvet curtains shut against the gloom outside, and a roaring fireplace which took the last of the chill from my bones.
And sitting in one of the brilliantly upholstered chairs was my captor, his legs dangling a good few feet above the floor. At first I thought he was a boy, until I saw that he was, in fact, a grown man, albeit with dwarfism. "Ah, you're awake," he said, hopping off the chair. "I apologise for the ungainly manner in which you were taken, but we had to act quickly before any witnesses came to notice what was going on."187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxM29uJqD4s
I steadied shaken nerves. He was well spoken, at least. "What's going on?" I asked.
The man took my hand and led me over to a chair, before taking his original seat. "You're not backwards in coming forwards," he appraised. "Very well. Have you heard of The Misfits?"
I frowned, before nodding. My parents did not speak highly of this particular pack, and for good reason, according to them, because we had Misfit blood in our veins, thanks to a distant grandmother being kidnapped by one of my parents' distant ancestors. The Mistfits had declared blood feud with my pack as a result, and the war had carried on for eight generations, until a treaty had been forced between our two packs, sealed with another abduction. My paternal grandmother had been a Misfit, and had been married to my paternal grandfather against her will, sparking a fresh round of hostilities. "I'm going to go ahead and assume I'm being held to pay for the kidnapping of my grandmother?" I said.
The man nodded, looking sad. "I do apologise," he said. "But it was dreadfully bad taste of your grandfather to spit on our treaty like that. He laughed in my bereaved great-grandfather's face when called out on it, and said that, since there was already Misfit blood in your pack, why not strengthen it?"187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡneEWb6JDln
I shivered. "I don't like my pack anymore," I said crossly. 187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9TIGs1Rr9W
"Neither do we," the man told me, grim. He sighed. "But you needn't fret about being our prisoner for long. We've already sent the ransom demand to your parents, and if they've the good sense given them at birth, they'll pay it so you can go free."
I wasn't sure I wanted to go back to my parents' packhouse, not after the way they'd been treating me lately. And being prisoner of another pack wasn't proving as bad as I'd feared; at least my captor was treating me with a good bit more respect than my own pack had done so of late. He smiled sadly at my expression.
"It won't be all bad," he assured me. "You've got the run of the house and the farm, and you're more than welcome to join us in our pursuits. We've a good bit of land here, and we're always discovering new bits and pieces we haven't seen before."
The mention of land sent me into a further tailspin of worry, and my captor frowned. "What's wrong?"
I took a deep breath. "Have you heard about my parents' attempts to claim more lands for hunting?" I asked.
My captor scowled. "Yes," he said shortly. "And they're being right sods about it, too. Your sister is safe, by the way; James's great-grandmother was a Misfit, and he's inherited her skills. He'll protect her and their son, and he's got ways of delivering nasty headaches to anyone who mistreats his family."
"Oh thank goodness," I said.
My captor smiled. "I'm Jethro, by the way," he said. "My manners are abysmal, and for that, I seek your pardon."
I had to smile back. "I'm Chance," I said, shaking his proffered hand and getting a better look at him. That's when I realised he was more than just born with dwarfism; he was a dwarf, minus the beard and the axe. His eyes - grey as mist - sparkled when he saw the light of realisation come over my face.
"Aye, I'm a dwarf," he said. "Half-dwarf, actually; my mother was a dryad, hence the beardless look." He jumped down from the chair and took my hand. "Come with me," he invited. "You're about to step into a world few outsiders have ever seen."187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2QEWyRwxjh
I pushed my cares to the side and let Jethro lead me out of the drawing room. Being a prisoner was looking more and more like it was going to be an adventure, and I could hardly wait to see where it took me.
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