Perfect Misfits Read Online Free PDF Page B

guarantee that Tempest could never leave the mountain. Not all of the misfits had these stones, only the special ones—ones never meant to end up back in the city of Levare.
    She couldn’t go far without him. He counted on that. Snow would slow her down, so he just needed to follow the tracks left by her beast. The stupid gargdog was good for one thing only. Rogue would lead his Sneers directly to Tempest. This time, she’d pay dearly for her choices. No more excuses. Her mind, body, and soul would be his. When he finished with her, she’d never again think of escaping. She wouldn’t be able to think at all.
    Fedor gently laid the icicle back on the shelf and closed the door. She had no idea a part of her life lay in his hands—literally.
    His distorted image stared back at him from the ice wall. He thrived on being wicked. His boney, grey-clawed hand reached up to scratch his bald head. He loved his repugnant figure.
    Few knew about the hidden realm of Levare. Once Fedor had discovered the hidden magical mountains, he’d wasted no time ensuring his position. When misfits such as Tempest came along, he took care of them, or rather, he took care of the problems they created for parents or creators. He made the misfits disappear. Only a select few were different. Tempest was one of them.
    Out of the corner of his reptilian yellow eye, he tracked the slow movement of an ice worm. In a flash, his long, spiked tongue darted out, wrapping around the squirming insect and dragging it into his mouth. He swallowed and wiped his black lips with the back of his hand. His tattered leather robe drug on the ice as he walked with a large hunched back and made his way to the ice throne off to the side of the cabinet and plopped down, tapping his large claws on the ice arm rests.
    A problem existed…perhaps a few. It had been a few years since he’d received any more misfits, or failed experiments. He counted on those failed tests. After all, he couldn’t continue to kill off all his demon servants without replacing them.
    Has something happened in Levare?
    He feared the worst. That was his first problem.
    The second problem was Vicasha, a demonic witch with limited magical power. Vicasha had to be kept happy, but Fedor knew he could have his hands full. A visit to her was the last thing he wanted, but it was a necessary evil to ensure the witch stayed happy. She’d enjoy the dead guardsman, among other things. Fedor shook his head as he remembered Vicasha’s grubby hands fondling his body.
    Come on, Fedor, you know you like some of it .
    Perhaps a visit to see the wench wouldn’t be such a bad idea, after all. He’d drop the dead meal off to her, and then she’d be happy. She’d slither and grind all over him; he just needed to encourage her movements to one area in particular—his cock. Of course, his thoughts would be of Tempest and her hot, lush body. He’d satisfy Vicasha’s disgusting needs and slyly remind her that they need to be cautious.
    “Cash, get of over here,” Fedor bellowed. “You know the drill. Follow Rogue’s prints or what’s left of them, and retrieve Tempest back to me. She couldn’t have gotten far.”
    Sneers were snow troops. Long, course, black hair covered their bodies from head to toe. Their feet and hands were large and round, with webbed digits making it impossible for them to sink through the deep snow.
    Cash shuffled toward Fedor, hunched over and using one arm like a front leg. He lifted his fur-covered head and grunted in compliance.
    “Cash, ensure I have another set of troops ready in the hour to take me to the witch’s domain. I’ll deal with Tempest when I’m back.” The second growl echoed in response to his request. “Keep up the good work, Cash, and I’ll make sure you get the next dead body.”
    Cash lifted his head and roared with excitement.
    “Go. Don’t disappoint me, or instead of getting the next dead body for a meal, you will be the meal.”
    The Sneer lowered