A Twisted Anthology: A Twisted Design Book

The Rogue's Initiation Part 3

The motel room was pretty standard. A double size bed with a floral pattern comforter, a table with two chairs in the corner, a low chest of drawers with a TV on it, and a little closet. There was a small bathroom attached to it with a shower/tub combination, toilet, and a sink with a bit of counter space around it.

I started unpacking my clothes and my travel bag. After putting my laptop on the table, I stored my bag in the closet. It was about five-thirty in the afternoon.

Opening the computer, I searched the fairgrounds. I didn’t want to be too early, but not late either. The computer estimated it would only take fifteen minutes to get there. I figured I’d leave just before eight-thirty, so I’d have time to find parking and get to the spot where she wanted to meet.

I decided to go get something to eat. There was a restaurant attached to the motel. It smelled like a pretty typical diner when I walked in. A waitress greeted me and took me to a table.

The menu was full of home cooking style foods. They had a country fried steak dinner that sounded good. It was a go-to meal for me when I had to eat somewhere unfamiliar. One of those things that was hard to screw up and good to eat.

After I ordered, I looked around the restaurant. It was pretty mellow. I would’ve expected more people, but being just after five-thirty on a Sunday probably had something to do with it.

I could tell most of the people there were regulars. They talked to each other and to the waitresses. It reminded me of home. Not home in Nebraska, but the little town that was my home now. The diner I liked to eat at on Main Street.

My meal came and looked amazing. It was a werewolf sized portion. That was one thing I missed about living in a place with other supernaturals, meals made for my appetite. I had to order three servings if I ate out back home. People called me the bottomless pit during the first six months of living there because I ate out more often, especially while my kitchen was out of commission.

While scrolling through my phone, I worked my way through the pile of food. It was perfect. There was a little bit of sweetness in the creamy white gravy and the potatoes were mashed with garlic, which added to the flavor of the whole dish.

The waitress was on top of refilling my drink whenever I emptied it. She didn’t try to engage me in conversation, which I appreciated. There was too much on my mind to really be a good conversationalist. I ended up spending two hours there and made sure to tip well when I paid my bill.

That left a little under an hour to kill. I decided to try and make sure I didn’t look like a serial killer mountain man and I’d review what was appropriate for rogue interactions. It had been a while since I was around other werewolves.

In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth, then cleaned and combed my beard. There was really no reason to shave since I lived alone. I usually shaved if I was going to meet with my publishers or do a signing somewhere. Being well-groomed was reassuring to my readers. They didn’t want some wild man writing the characters they loved so much.

My dark brown hair was a little shaggy, too. I did my best with it, but I realized I should’ve probably gone to the barber before coming here. Not much I could do now.

I went back into the main room and pulled out a white undershirt and a forest green plaid flannel. The pants I was wearing should be fine. They were fairly clean and not torn.

Queen Bellamy was a mated female. It would mean I shouldn’t check her out, which was a relief because I hated that part of interaction with rogues. Having to show females they were what I considered attractive was tedious, but it was tradition. Doing that to a mated female was disrespectful.

Complying with her orders and requests would be key to showing her that I didn’t intend to challenge her. If she thought I was challenging her, she could just kill me and no one would care. I didn’t like the idea of dying, so I was going to do everything she said until I found out if this was a collective I wanted to stay in.

The fair thing for families and organizing ways for single wolves to meet made it sound like a pretty good collective. I just didn’t know what to make of the Queen. If she was ambitious, then she could also be violent and aggressive. I didn’t want anything to do with that.

I didn’t think there would be much online, but I decided to see if I could figure anything out. Sitting at the table, I typed the name of the collective into the search bar. Then, I felt like an i***t.

They had a f*****g website. I could’ve found out more before I ever came here and been properly prepared. Now I was just going to have to learn what I could before leaving to meet Queen Bellamy. If my friends from college found out I slacked on research in such an outrageous way, they’d never stop teasing me.

In the ‘About Us’ part, there was a brief history of the collective, a list of collectives, packs, and other supernatural groups they were allied with, as well as a list of programs intended to help people in the collective. It stated very clearly that this was a mixed collective. There were witches, fae, vampires, other shapeshifters, and human mates.

Like packs, most collectives would allow non-wolf mates, but none of them would just let other species into the collective or pack. It was the only collective I’d ever seen that was a supernatural collective.

It was so much more than anything I’d experienced. The King in my hometown would never have done anything like it. Maybe this new sort of thinking meant she was the sort of Queen I wouldn’t mind following.

-

The alarm on my phone went off and I turned off the computer, grabbed my keys, and headed out to my truck. I climbed in and started my truck. I have a photographic memory, so I didn’t need to see the map again.

I drove through town and noticed how utterly normal it seemed. There was a mix of supernaturals just walking around, but there were no people growling or eyeing each other. It was like they had no species conflicts or anything.

When I reached the fairgrounds, the parking lot was pretty full. I decided not to even try getting a close spot and parked far from the entrance. There were families walking toward their cars as the sun lowered on the horizon.

Little kids carried stuffed animals and cotton candy. Some parents were carrying their sleeping pups or pulling them along in wagons. They nodded to me as I went past. I nodded back at them.

Since it was late June, it was still pretty light out. The sun was going to set at nine-thirty and it was about ten minutes before nine when I finally reached the front of the parking lot.

I stood off to the side of the main entrance watching families leave while young couples, groups of young wolves, and other supernaturals were entering. I could smell rogue born, ex-pack rogues, pack wolves, bears, big cats, some people who smelled like magic and other elements, and so much more. It was a different world in itself.

-

“Are you the wolf who’s here to see me?” A young woman asked as she approached.

She was as short as a young teen, which surprised the hell out of me. I could see she was definitely a woman and not a little girl. She had bronze hair and caramel colored eyes that sparkled.

Her face was pixie-like with large eyes, a small mouth, and a small nose. Her stomach bulged a bit under her dress. Wayne said Queen Bellamy was pregnant. She must have just crossed the two-month mark.

Behind her was a thickly built pack wolf. He had black hair and silver eyes. It was strange to see that he was actually beautiful, not handsome. His face didn’t match the rest of his features. He looked like he trained a lot. Was that her bodyguard? No, their scents mingled. He was her mate.

“I’m Vaughn Casey. Are you Queen Bellamy?”

“Yes, Queen Bellamy Deveraux. This is my mate, Alpha Lucien Deveraux of Lune Rouge. How can I help you, Mr. Casey? You’re not a member of my collective, are you here to petition?” She inquired.

There was nothing really threatening about her. She and her mate seemed to be a nice, though powerful, couple. I knew her collective’s name was her promise, she’d eat the hearts of her enemies, but I couldn’t really imagine her doing it.

“About a week ago, I felt a collective take over my territory. I came to meet with the leader of the collective.” I told her.

“You didn’t accept the offer to join the collective when my territory expanded, then. Do you intend to challenge me?” Queen Bellamy pressed, with a deadly look in her eye.

Her mate scowled. He was a little intimidating. I had the same build as most rogue born wolves. Like a swimmer rather than a wrestler. He was an Alpha, I couldn’t beat him in a fight.

“No. I came to find out what joining your collective would mean for me. I just want to live in my cabin and work. I don’t want to fight other people’s battles. I don’t want to be a warrior.” I replied.

She nodded. “What do you do for work, Mr. Casey?”

“I’m a writer. I write novels.” I don’t know why I felt compelled to tell her that, even though I’d decided I wouldn’t.

“I require only a small fee for people who live far enough out that they don’t benefit from my social programs. This helps with things like transportation if you need warriors to come out to you. It also adds to insurance so we can take care of you if something happens and you can’t make money. The collective will help keep you fed and housed while you get your life together again.” Queen Bellamy explained.

“How do you decide how much the fee is?”

“When you sign up with the collective, on our website, you tell us roughly how much you make in a year after taxes are taken out of your income. Then it’s like five percent of that. Our accounting team takes what little we get from the members of the collective and makes it grow. We don’t want to make it hard on you, but this helps us ensure we have everything we need to help our people.”

It was reasonable. I could afford it. Everything was pointing to this being an acceptable arrangement.

“I can do that.” I replied.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to meet with you about a special project before you go home.” She requested with a smile.

“What kind of project?” I asked.

“The kind I don’t talk about where anyone can hear. This is collective business. No one else’s. I’ll have my wolf reissue the offer for you to join the collective. Please accept. Until then, you can come with us to the charity auction.” Queen Bellamy said.

“Charity auction?”

“We’re raising money for the orphanages. Bellamy believes this will enable us to give better gifts to the pups for birthdays and holidays. We’ll also get a cellphone plan for the orphanage so the teens can have a way to contact the homes in an emergency. And we can give them more food and help the ones who age out of the orphanage with getting settled.” Alpha Lucien told me.

I liked that. Instead of raising the amount we paid, they were working on other options for getting funding from people who were willing to pay for something. Maybe I’d find something to bid on at the auction.

“Where are the funds from this fair going?”

“To the next location in the collective. I made a deal with the people who own this set up. I paid an estimated fee. They go to several cities in my collective and run these Rogue Fairs and they get to keep the money spent on rides and games. I supply the food vendors; they just have to take care of everything else. At the end of it, they’ll give me an invoice for anything else that needs to be paid, but they can keep any overages. This company is owned by rogues, they know better than to try and screw me over.” She smirked. “Come on. I’m the auctioneer. Can’t be late.”