Note: I can’t commit to posting this weekly yet, but you all enjoyed the first chunk so much that – once I get Conduit 4 into second draft stage – I might be able to work on this book a little bit more. No promises!
FYI: Any text in brackets just needs to be double checked, or I’m not happy with the word choice/phrasing yet.
This is Kandy’s book, Mistaken Loyalties (TBC) (Misfits 1)
Start here: Chapter 1, Part 1
The glass doors leading through to customs was flung open, new arrivals pouring out. The waiting crowd pressed up against the roped barrier, looking for their loved ones. I hung back, knowing with barely a sniff that a plane load of Americans had just arrived. Mostly East Coasters.
I considered following my nose in the opposite direction to the food court while I waited on my anticipated arrival. But he never expected to be picked up when he flew into town, so I didn’t want to miss him. I didn’t want to miss a moment of the minuscule amount of free time we’d have together over the next few days. I needed the release. Really bad. Multiple times, if I had any say in it. Which I always did. While I waited, the excellent scents coming from the food court, including a spicy butter chicken and aloo gobhi, provided a welcomed distraction. Despite my uneasy stomach, I could totally go for some freshly fried paratha.
The musky scent of werewolf drew my attention back to the American travelers. People darted around before me, greeting newcomers, taking bags, chattering, so it took me a moment to spot the trio striding through the glassed gate. Two males and a female.
The East Coast pack enforcers had arrived ahead of their alpha and beta, aka the parents of the bride.
I didn’t know the males, but the female was unexpected and completely unwelcome. My stomach practically yawned open within my throat just upon laying eyes on her.
The idea of presenting a completely neutral front became suddenly unfeasible, if not impossible.
Dedra Clark.
Werewolf.
Clad in a tailored navy suit that had a zero lycra count and did nothing to highlight her petite frame, her dark blond hair was pulled back from her lightly tanned face. Her wide-set, rounded [green] eyes glowed with magic and discontent. Wolves did not enjoy the mass company of humans. Despite the camouflaging lines of the suit, I could tell by the way Dedra moved that she’d bulked up and trained hard since I’d last laid eyes on her. Presumably with bare hands as well as tooth and claw.
She’d be no match for me, of course. But few shapeshifters could best me, even without the cuffs.
I’d known her.
Before.
Intimately.
She’d been my first.
And was still, after more than [thirteen] years, my one and only monogamous sexual relationship. Teenaged me was more heart than brains. More into experiencing pleasure for the first time than understanding the practicalities of falling for a woman, especially a female werewolf, with aspirations.
So yeah, we’d been in love.
Until Dedra had decided that pack politics and ranking were more important than me. Though perhaps that was my own revisionist take on it all. A boy, Justin, the alpha’s son, who I didn’t know quite how much I cared for until he died had been murdered … and I still didn’t know the truth of any of it. I’d run away from the truth, built a new life.
It was apparent that clawing my heart into pieces had worked out for Dedra though. She — a foundling with no name, a rogue rescued from the harem of cult-like leader — was now apparently an enforcer for the East Coast pack. Only thirty-five guests had been invited to the witness the pack status negotiations and attend the wedding. So Dedra had to be in the top five of the East Coast pack to have made that list.
I should have actually familiarized myself with the fucking guest list. According to Bitsy it was still being finalized, and knowing that I’d just deal with whoever showed up when I needed to, I really couldn’t be bothered.
The bulky blond bruiser to Dedra’s left finally caught my scent. His expression hardened as he scanned the crowd. I let him find me, meeting his probing gaze with a sneer.
Yeah, I might not know him specifically. And I might be a Tate — the last Tate — and all that entailed to the East Coasters, but there was no love lost between me and my former pack.
The bruiser had a good nose though, to pick me out in the press of all the humans. Dedra and other enforcer hadn’t yet noticed an unknown werewolf in the arrivals area, cutting to the left toward the rental car kiosks without even a glance my way.
The bruiser muttered something to his companions. They paused midstep, swinging around to find me at the back of the ever thinning crowd. Their sudden stop hampered the flow of exiting foot traffic. The humans compensated, weaving around them. The automatic sliding doors barely had time to close as travelers hooked up with their rides and headed for the parking lot, or rushed out to grab a cab or a hotel transport.
Dedra frowned.
I folded my arms, displaying my teeth and my cuffs.
My former lover blinked, then her eyes widened, nostrils flaring as she finally figured out who I was. [Thirteen] years was a long time, but I’d known her on sight.
Though there was a significant probability that she hadn’t changed a bit. She’d always been bullheaded, obsessed with proving that a no name werewolf could make a place for herself within the elitist, werewolf-only Rothchild pack.
I, however, was no longer the teenager she’d seduced. And not just because I wore magical artifacts gifted to me by one of the nine most powerful beings in the world. Not just because I was an enforcer for the Northwest Coast Pack where being a Tate was more of a hindrance than an automatic [step up]. No, I was different, remade, because I’d faced death and destruction by the side of my chosen family, over and over. I’d been broken and reassembled a half-dozen times since I’d last laid teeth on Dedra.
I’d died and been resurrected by my pack and the most powerful healer in the world.
And I loved. Truly and utterly. Without expectation or strings.
I loved Adepts of pure heart and intent, as well as some bad ass crazies who’d I’d follow into hell and damnation just for the fun of it. And I understood that love. It went beyond the pleasure of flesh against flesh.
My smile hardened as Debra’s expression shifted, becoming pleased, then edged in a cunning she couldn’t quite hide.
Yeah, she hadn’t changed.
– Misfits 2, Chapter 1, Part 2, first draft
Are you new to the Adept Universe? Click here for the suggested reading order where you can download a PDF that includes all the shorter stories (and where to find them).
Kandy’s three prequel shorts can be found in
4 replies on “Misfits 2: Chapter 1, Part 2”
Ohmygosh! Love Love!! Love seeing Kandy – such a BadA$$. And just being back with my 1st love – the Dowser series. Thank you Meghan
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YES YES! I loved Misfits 1, and have been hoping to see the 2nd! So exciting! I have also missed the Dowser Universe <3
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