Gabe’s Fortune

Chapter One

Gabriel MacSweeny surveyed his newest

acquisition to the best of his ability

considering it spanned a large area. It was cathartic to look out and over it all, even though dust was kicking up and threatening to burn his eyes. He'd been in worse weather. Hell, back in his days in the World Guard, he'd once had to hunker down for six days to ride out a dust storm that had claimed The Plains for nearly a week—paralyzing everything in its path. The state of things today was more a nuisance than anything. Though, he'd seen a few people walking around with bandanas over their mouths and noses.

Lightweights.

The dust made it slightly harder to appreciate his purchase. The sheer size of the purchase was more of an issue. Unless he found higher ground, he'd never see all of it at once. That pleased him greatly. Where there had been nothing more than hard, cracked earth and no vegetation as far as the eye was able to see, now rested train cars, wagons, horses and steel steeds. A band of misfits pulled together by circumstance.

His kind of people.

He wasn't exactly normal, and while most of the people in his hometown knew as much, he didn't advertise the news in his extensive travels. It wasn't easy to predict what type of reception a supernatural would get within different boundaries of the New Frontier Territories. Some were welcoming of super-naturals. Others would just as soon see him dragged behind a horse than have him there among their women and children.

As if Gabriel would ever harm a woman or a child. He wasn't that type of man. None of his family was, yet they all still hid in plain sight. They all tried their best to minimize the number of people who knew without a shadow of a doubt what they were.

Shapeshifters.

Men who had the ability to turn into animals. In the case of the MacSweenys, their family animal was a wolf—at least for the most part. Some were different animals, but most were wolves. And there was the addition of magik in some of the MacSweenys, such as Gabriel and his brothers.

From all Gabriel had been told of the world before the Great Sickness, supernaturals had never been welcome anywhere. Most people hadn't even believed they were real back then.

Fools.

The old books, now locked away for preserva-tion, spoke of a period before the Great Sickness, a time when the world was overpopulated. A time when mankind spent more time at war with each other than worrying about the planet and the damage they were doing to it. The result of their carelessness had been the Great Sickness—a product of pollution, technology and germ warfare —that had happened nearly seven hundred years ago.

Though no one was certain that was what had caused it all. Fear of a repeat of the mass deaths had some territories banning technologies. The penalties in those territories or areas were swift and severe. Often even death. Other areas openly welcomed technology and advancements. Gabriel felt a balance between the two was the best course of action, as his home boundary and town of Prospect Springs believed as well.

Pride welled as he looked over his purchase. This would be a way to hide in plain sight while still trav-eling—something he loved to do. Growing up in Prospect Springs, part of the New Frontier Territory, had been good. He couldn't complain, but it had done little to satisfy the explorer in him. The young boy who had wanted to travel the world, meet others and experience everything he could.

He spun his cane around, still in a jovial mood. The silver from the wolf's head on the top of his cane burned his skin, but he didn't mind. He liked the bite of pain. It was a constant reminder of what he was. The cane wasn't required for any purpose, other than in it was a sword he liked to keep on hand. One never knew what one would run into while traveling, and turning into a wolf wasn't always the best option in a fight.

Sometimes, you had to distinguish when to fight like a man or a beast.

Gabriel ran his hand over his upper lip, consid-ering re-growing the rather obnoxious mustache and goatee he'd only recently shaved. His brothers had ribbed him endlessly about his facial hair. They weren't exactly clean-shaven, but they'd never had a goatee the length he'd allowed his to be.

Homesickness swept over him. Perched on the edge of Cutter's Grove—a few day's ride to Prospect Springs—Gabriel smiled, knowing he'd see his family soon enough. It had been far too long between visits home. He hadn't told any of them about his new acquisition. They'd be shocked when they saw what he bought.

Gabriel soaked in the sights of his carnival. It amused him greatly. It was something more along the lines of a traveling circus. He could still remember attending carnivals when he was a young boy. His aunts and his mother would take all the boys to the edges of town, and for one magical night, their lives had been transformed. The MacSweenys had no longer been the oddities in the town. Freaks had poured in and relished the attention, drawing the focus to the carnival and from the MacSweeny boys.

Giving them all some welcome relief.

Not to mention the carnival's arrival had meant Gabriel would be whisked away into a different type of world—one that felt like a living storybook, an adventure under canvas tents. It still held the same wonder for him now as it had when he was but a child. Though now he chose to be part of it.

To belong to something offbeat.

He wasn't friendly with any of the carny folk yet. He'd only been introduced to a select few by the previous owner. The man who had sold him the entire carnival, including all the existing contracts with the workers and their pay notes, had been well beyond the point of retirement age. He, unlike Gabriel, was not immortal. Life had been hard and taken its toll upon the man. He'd smelled heavily of sickness, and Gabriel knew without being told why the man had been desperate to find his carnival a good owner.

Death was upon the man's doorstep, and Gabriel knew the Reaper would arrive before the month's end and claim its due. From what the man had confessed, the carnival had run into issues a few territories back, leaving three of their own dead at the hands of humanists—those who didn't tolerate anything beyond pure humans and didn't take kindly to supernaturals near them and theirs. The previous owner had tried hard to protect those who worked for him—his family, he'd called them—but his efforts had fallen short. When he'd learned Gabriel's secret, he'd looked so relieved, offering him the carnival then and there, at a rate any smart man would have been stupid to refuse.

And Gabriel, while many things, was not a stupid man.

Gabriel had a stand-up reputation as a business-man, and while he'd never ventured into the busi-ness of carnivals or circuses before, he knew how to turn a profit in his endeavors. The old man had parted with the carnival for less than he should have. It wasn't for lack of Gabriel trying to pay him a fair price. He'd simply refused to take all of what was offered to him. He'd gone on and on about how Gabriel would do right by his family, his people, and that he could die in peace knowing so.

As Gabriel looked around, he questioned if they'd be open and receptive to him—someone they believed to be human. For now, he'd let them think as much. It was easier that way. They'd be less on guard with him that way, even with the ugly events in their recent past. He, like the previous owner, had a strong sense that someone within the carnival had been part of the trouble—part of the reason three had died and nearly ten more had been hurt. Gabriel would ferret out the culprit, or culprits if that was the case, out and see to it they answered for their crimes.

He only hoped his suspicions were wrong. It was hard to believe any here would turn on the other, but the smell of humans among the carny folk rode the air. He didn't automatically distrust humans, but he'd learned long ago they were as deadly, if not more so, than others like him. Plus, he knew some of the element that was attracted to the traveling life-style had sordid pasts—some were even criminals or con-artists.

He'd weed those out and judge them for himself. He'd honor the owner's last wishes of keeping the carny family safe even if it was from themselves. He was a man of his word after all. Often, a man only had his word to hang his hat on.

Already, tents were popping up everywhere, dotting the horizon as the sights and sounds of people buzzed through the air. Pride continued to swell in him. He'd acted rashly, buying the carnival without putting too much thought behind it. But it had felt right.

His gut had demanded he act upon the urge to purchase. That he own it at all costs. He knew better than to ignore a deep calling. The carnival turned a profit even in parts of the New Frontier Territory where people didn't have much coin to spread around. Gabriel considered avoiding those areas so the good people there wouldn't be tempted to spend little they had, but he knew how much they looked forward to the carnival rolling in to town. He'd not take that from them.

Besides, his carnival was the best-priced one out there. The sad truth was a good deal of the New Frontier Territory didn't have a pot to piss in. Yet, for the most part, the people were happy. Pockets of money existed, and more and more, Gabriel could see things starting to change for the better. In no way were they as well off as the Old Territory. It was hard to have everyone up to that level of living.

He took comfort in the knowledge his newest purchase managed to bring happiness and joy to people in desperate situations. It meant something to him. He'd figure out a way to continue to turn a profit, keep the workers safe and happy while making sure those in impoverished areas were still offered the experience of the show.

The magik of it all.

Tumbleweed blew past. He silently cursed for what he'd gotten himself into. The southeast section of New Frontier Territory hadn't seen water in months and was hotter than a stick of dynamite lit on both ends. If something didn't give soon, he'd likely burst into flames before he had his first official opening night. He had big plans for the carnival. For now he needed to focus on getting rid of any acts that ripped off patrons. A clean-running operation was what he was looking for. There were plenty of acts who were what they claimed. He didn't need anyone making their dime by stealing from those less fortunate.

A large bald man approached, his handlebar mustache looking well-maintained and out of place with the current trends in men's facial hair. The tight pants he wore were comical, but Gabriel kept his laughter to himself. The man had to be Gusto. The strong man he'd heard so much about. Gabriel didn't want to point out he could lift more than the human male, so he offered a gentle smile. If Gusto needed to feel like the biggest, baddest guy around, Gabriel would permit it.

At least for now.

"You must be Gusto," he said, extending a hand to the man to show he meant no ill will. He might not be from the Old World Territory, but that didn't mean Gabriel's mother hadn't made sure to teach him the finer points of politeness—New Frontier style of course. His brothers and cousins would even call him a dandy.

Gusto eyed him as if he was considering taking a swing at him. The thought amused Gabriel. If the guy tried, Gabriel would lay him on his ass and teach him who the alpha was around these parts.

"And you're the new owner," Gusto returned, contempt in his voice. He looked at Gabriel's hand, his lip curling as he refused to take it. "You plannin' on dismantlin' us?"

"Only the acts that aren't legit," returned Gabriel, unconcerned with the man's attempts at being alpha. "Gotta run a clean operation. You understand how some territories are. They don't like swindlers. And I won't have any wagtails."

He'd run into enough traveling shows to discern the newest craze seemed to be dancing girls who would do more than dance without their clothes on if the coinage was enough. No thanks. He didn't want to be running that kind of operation. One of his cousins ran a whorehouse, and Gabriel knew the business wasn't for him.

"We've no wagtails on this circuit," said Gusto, pride evident. "Other boss man never stood for it either."

"Good. But I'm still plannin' to cut any swindlers. We don't need to be run out of any territories. I suspect we have enough to worry about as is."

He didn't come right out and say supernaturals, but it hung in the air between them. Some territories and boundaries downright hated supernaturals. Gabriel wouldn't bother announcing who or what he was. That way they could keep on traveling through all the territories, rather than just a few select ones. Besides, the all-human territories tended to pay better.

Gusto puffed his chest more, doing his best to exude dominance when in actuality he didn't project anything of the sort. Any shifter in the area would pick up on the fact Gusto wasn't in the ballpark of alpha. Not even close. There was actually a certain softness about the man. A layer of caring about him. He was worried what Gabriel would do to his home —the carnival. Gabriel respected loyalty and sensed Gusto was filled to the brim and possibly over-flowing with it.

A good character trait.

"I'm guessin' you could point out the legit acts straight away for me and save me a lot of time," he pressed, raising a brow. "But I've got a notion you'd rather watch me work for it."

Gusto crossed his arms over his chest. "And prevent you from being the mark? No. You can figure it out on your own, tenderfoot."

"Figured as much." Gabriel hid his laugh and headed in the direction of the tent nearest him. The painted canvas near it claimed a live mermaid dwelled within. He didn't need to look to realize this act was as full of shit as a town drunkard claimin' he'd single-handedly managed to win a shootout with both eyes closed and his hands behind his back.

Yep. Gabriel had heard that story enough in his travels for sure. Each tale got taller, and each time he heard it, he fought from finishing the story out from whatever down-on-his-luck, booze-loving fellow was spewing it forth.

Gusto gave him the hairy eyeball once again. "This outfit isn't runnin' a game. We're the real deal and we're honest. Though a few dance the line."

"So I've been told," he said, and he had. Others whispered of the carnival being clean and on the level. He needed to see so with his own eyes since it was his reputation that now hung on the line. "Just need to verify. If I'm pinnin' my word to somethin', it has to be somethin' I believe in."

Seeming to ponder it, Gusto nodded and then uncrossed his arms. Some of the man's aggression finally wavered. He took a step closer to Gabriel. "I'll gather 'em all up except for Adeline. She's the fortuneteller 'round here. She won't come. Leave it at that."

The tone in the man's voice was protective. That was the only reason Gabriel didn't push more about the mysterious fortuneteller. He'd let her remain hidden away for now if that made her happy. He had enough other things to worry about as it was.

"The Amazin' Arthur will come first," Gusto said, huffing. "He always wants to be first with everythin'."

"And he is what here?" asked Gabriel.

Pointing towards a painted canvas sign being erected as they spoke, Gusto grinned, appearing more at ease. "Our knife thrower."

"Is he any good?"

With a shrug, Gusto headed in that direction, calling out, "Don't think his first several assistants thought he was amazin', but you know what they say, practice makes perfect."

Gabriel stared off in the other direction, his attention going straight to the wagon that had painted lettering on the side announcing it to be the home of a fortuneteller. A woman filled the doorway of the wagon. The black material of her top was molded to her upper body, showing off her ample breasts. She wore a long, deep-blue skirt that hung to the tops of her booted feet. She was damn hard to miss. His cock took notice of her as well, hardening at once.

It was difficult to get his body to do more than simply stand there, soaking in the sight of the woman. Her dark hair was down, hanging to her waist. She wore a blue scarf over the top portion of her hair and it was tied to the side, showing off large silver hoop earrings. Her skin looked to be sun-kissed and her full, rosy lips formed a curious pout as her blue gaze rested on him.

She was stunning. Absolutely breathtaking.

Gabriel's wolf tried to surface, wanting to know more of the mysterious woman. He had to struggle with it to keep it at bay. He squeezed the head of his cane more, and the silver bit into his palm. The pain helped him focus.

Was this the woman Gusto had spoken of? Adeline?

She continued to watch him from afar, narrowing her gaze on him. She looked young. Perhaps too young for the thoughts he was having. He would be shocked if she was more than twenty-one or twenty-two. Whoever she was, she was beau-tiful and alluring.

So much so that Gabriel knew better than to allow his curiosity to win out. He wasn't in control of his beast enough at the moment to go to her, to ask more questions. No. Distance was required.

Chapter Two

Dust blew past, lifting the banners

announcing the coming attractions. The wind storms were lighter now, but not gone. The banner with the crystal ball was for her. It was to bring paying customers to her, even if she didn't want them. Adeline Carpenter hated what she'd been born able to do. Hated that she was required to exploit it in order to live. It wasn't like she had any family who could help her. She'd been on her own since she was only eight, and the New Frontier Terri-tory was not kind to navigate as an adult, let alone as a child.

The Old World Territory was worse.

She'd been born in the Old World and had spent a portion of her youth there, across the ocean, far from the New Frontier. Sadly, the Old World's strong dislike of supernaturals had left her and her mother running for their lives—refugees from their home-land. Her mother had made the only choice she could when presented with one boarding ticket on a ship bound for the New Frontier. She'd sent her only daughter in hopes Adeline would survive the perse-cution of their kind and thrive in the New Frontier. Thriving had been hard to do as a child.

At nearly twenty-one, thriving had not gotten much easier, but at least she'd found people like her —her kind. She'd fallen in with the carnival when she was only thirteen and had been with them ever since. Most were like family to her.

Some were not.

The carnival was now under new management, with a new owner at the helm. Most of the carnival people were still unsure about him—including her. They'd lost three of their own not long ago, and the wounds of suspicion and loss were still fresh. Trusting wasn't something any of them did easily.

The new owner had shaken things up, but in a good way. She had a feeling he'd make sure no one else died on his watch. And he'd clean up anything questionable. He'd already gotten rid of two acts she knew to be skimming money from customers. Acts that didn't belong with the family of misfits, and she suspected the owner would cut even more before the end of the month.

Maybe her if she didn't prove herself.

She didn't want to use the gift, the curse she'd been born with. Times were hard, and making a dime as a woman was hard. Too many women were left no choice but to sell themselves in brothels or saloons. She didn't want to end up as one of those women, so she whored out her gifts instead of her body.

She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and receded into her personal tent adjoining to her wagon. The air was hot, but it brought with it whis-pers of death that made her shiver. Being in touch with the other side was part of her curse. She didn't relish it, but it put food on her plate. She went to her small vanity and sat at the stool before it, her hand going to a silver-handled hairbrush that had been a gift from the last owner of the carnival.

He'd been good to her, almost father-like, and she missed him.

She knew the truth.

That before the sun had risen, he'd taken matters into his own hands, ending his suffering and meeting death on his terms, not from the sickness he'd been hiding from all save Adeline. She wanted to weep for him. For the loss, but she didn't dare lower her safeguards in order to express her emotions. There was no telling what she might pick up on then, and she couldn't handle any more death today.

"Adeline, you got any of that stuff for sore throats?" Betsy asked as she lifted the flap to Adeline's tent. The woman had to remain hunched over or her head would have possibly lifted the entire tent. Most who looked at Betsy couldn't see past her height. The woman was just over eight feet tall—the giant of the show. Adeline didn't really notice Betsy's height anymore. The Gorgeous Giant was simply Betsy to her. Didn't much matter that at five-three, Adeline felt as if Betsy was nearly twice her size—though she knew Betsy wasn't. "Feels like I swallowed sand."

Working with herbs and natural remedies was a gift she was actually thankful had been passed down to her. Pressing a smile to her face, Adeline moved to the side of her tent and opened her leather traveling trunk. She withdrew a small glass jar full of mixed herbs and handed it to Betsy. "One tablespoon, three times a day in a cup of tea. It will help. You take it. I'll make more."

"Oh, darlin'," Betsy proclaimed. "You're such a doll. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Betsy paused, the jar in her hand. She cast a pensive look in Adeline's direction. "The new owner is lookin' for you. Didn't know if you'd heard. Want me to tell him he has to come to your tent? I will."

At the mention of Gabriel MacSweeny, Adeline perked. She'd first laid eyes upon him in Cutter Grove nearly a week ago, back when he'd come to inspect the carnival he'd purchased sight unseen. She still wasn't sure why he'd bought it. From the scuttlebutt, he'd not owned a carnival or circus before. Now he was their new boss. He'd been the one to add Prospect Springs to their circuit. He'd also been hand selected by the previous owner. He was the one man who had gotten a yes when all others who had tried to buy the carnival had failed.

Interesting.

Betsy stood, appearing as though she'd take on the world for Adeline. It was the mark of a true friend. Adeline eased closer to the woman. "Thank you, but I think I've been ducking him long enough. I should go to him. I need this job too much to risk it."

"But, doll, your condition," Betsy protested, a sympathetic look on her face.

Adeline touched Betsy's hand gently. "I'll be careful."

"You do. And if he causes you any pain, I'll break him in half for you."

She would too!

Laughing, Adeline watched as Betsy turned and left the tent. Wind caught the flap. Dust blew in and Adeline stepped out, drew the flap and closed her cocoon around her. She liked the silence and the protective energy the runes that were placed within the confines provided. She wished she could simply place one in her pocket to shield her and be more mobile, but that was impossible. She'd tried enough times to know. She turned and sighed, already drained and she'd not even started doing any read-ings yet.

The clanging of the roughies driving in the tent spikes rent the air. As the carnival's train pulled in, it attracted the locals from miles away. Each train car was painted to the fullest extent, advertising what was to come, adding mystic to it all. Great care was taken with how they were presented. They were a carnival with a good reputation for being family friendly and for providing fun for all. That felt good. Knowing the new owner was doing his best to clean up the few acts that would have spoiled that reputa-tion felt even better.

Calypso music filtered from the other side of the carnival area. Adeline knew the tunes by heart. They were the same each stop. The other showmen, because they didn't care much for the term carny, knew the songs by heart as well. Often they'd make up words to them to amuse themselves after hours. They bonded in bizarre ways and were a family of sorts. Most were displaced, and their actual families were not part of their lives—if they ever had been.

Adeline went to her wardrobe trunk and popped it onto its side. She opened it and selected a dress to wear. She didn't want to officially meet Mr. MacSweeny wearing her traveling clothes. From the glimpses of him she'd managed, he was handsome and there was a certain something about him that left her wanting to look her best.

She didn't have much, but what she did have she took pains to keep well-tended and in good condi-tion. Calliope, the daughter of the head mainte-nance man, worked wonders with needle and thread. She could make just about any designer piece she glanced at. It was a true gift. One that seemed to go to waste more often than not as her father kept her busy with oiling various mechanical men and animals that were part of the carnival. Adeline missed Calliope and couldn't wait for her friend to return from the trip her father had insisted they go on. Something about getting a new set of mechanical monkeys at a discount rate. They would be catching up with the carnival within a few weeks.

Adeline settled on a red dress that Calliope had given to her as a gift three years back. It was one of her favorites and made from old fabric that the carnival was no longer using. Many women shied away from the color, thinking it too bold, but Adeline didn't. It felt like her people—the Roma— that she descended from.

She took the time to prepare herself and then left her tent and strolled past the other tents. She gave a slight nod to the freaks gathered around the fire pit discussing the upcoming night's show. It's what they talked about every night, before every show. They found comfort in one another. To the world, they were freaks and sideshow acts. To each other, they were normal. And they loved being called freaks. It was a badge of honor to them. Call them anything else and you'd get an earful.

Two of the roughies made their way to her.

"Ms. Adeline," Marvin said, tipping his hat. He'd always seemed polite enough on the outside, but there was something about him that left her uneasy. "We were in town earlier. It's mighty purdy. You should join us. We're goin' in again tonight. Should be real fun."

"Not as purdy as you," his ever-faithful sidekick Lew said, smiling wide.

She didn't comment, nor did she allow physical contact to be made with them. All too often, if she wasn't shielding herself, she'd get impressions from the person and they could be overwhelming to her senses.

"Where you headed?" Marvin asked.

"To see the owner," she replied as she neared the owner's tent. She always did her best to keep her answers short and sweet when it came to Marvin and the men he associated with.

"Your turn for the firin' squad, huh?" he asked.

"I suppose so."

Marvin got the flap for her and held it, smiling as she moved past him. She connected with him by mistake and was instantly struck with the vision of him watching her from afar, watching the way her dress had pulled up, showing the lower portion of her legs to him. It had excited him, making his cock hard. His mind had filled rapidly with images of her pinned beneath him, taking him as he rammed himself into her, holding her arms above her head, tears streaking her temples as he pawed at her body, grease from the rides he worked on smeared over her exposed flesh.

It was what he fantasized about happening on their outing should she dare accept.

Sickened, she jerked away and backed up fast. Too fast. She struck something solid, and the visions of Marvin having his way with her were quickly replaced by something else. Something powerful and feral. Images of running free came over her. She spotted moonlight flashing before her and heard the clear sounds of a wolf howling.

It took her a moment to realize strong hands were gripping her shoulders, shaking her lightly. "Ms. Carpenter," the deep, purely male voice repeated.