(Mis)fortune (Judgement of the Six #2)

“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?”