Samuel worked fast closing the area down, flashing fake badges for

  the cops who inevitably showed up and yelling orders he’d seemingly

  memorized to heart. Ordering them this way and that, demanding names

  and badge numbers, until The Lady finally had someone call in and set

  things straight. My dad, grandma, and step mom leaving before the

  dust had settled, Percy calling in from down the street as soon as he

  saw flashing lights, and everyone sent to a safe house.

  No excuse for me to hang around, I was forced to leave while Samuel

  and Chasse were still keeping half-ones in check, and had no time to

  waste before going to The Lady’s mansion.

  The back entrance she’d assigned to me for official business, I

  walked into a backroom with my clothes and instructions already laid

  out. Needing to quickly shower and shave before changing into the

  dress she’d given me — a sleeveless red gown with a slit on the

  side near to my hip that showed off the swords and vines on my arms

  and leg and the massive mural on my back. A wolf howling at the

  crescent moon, written above it across my

  shoulders.

  The makeup she’d gotten me some time ago applied next, kept with

  the rest of my supplies here as just another step in my long

  preparation, before needing to change out my eye patch to one the

  others she’d gotten me. This one a red leather embossed with a

  rose, something she was quite fond of, though combined with my auburn

  hair, red dress, and blushed cheeks made me look absolutely drenched

  in the color.

  Gaudy, something I’d never pick for myself, made me feel

  practically naked, and I wore all the same as I stepped into a pair

  of high heels and entered the home. Unsteady and unsure, feeling my

  body twist and turn as I tried to force myself to remain upright on

  my limited experience with six inch heels. Through the echoing halls

  with maids in outfits made for the bedroom more than work and up the

  steps and down a hall to a pair of double wooden doors at the end of

  a hall I knocked at before letting the air settle on me.

  The air smelled…, and I could tell probably a half

  hundred people had passed through it just today. Most of them

  half-ones, but a few other pheromones underneath I thought might have

  been familiar. Werewolves certainly, the ashy scent of another

  vampire, the unusual mixture of smells that hung to Elizabeth the

  witch, even some other things I knew weren’t but

  wasn’t sure what it was otherwise.

  One the scents underneath, buried deep and unsure but still strong,

  familiar enough, and a voice coming through the heavy doors ringing

  bells in my ears. Different tone, different way of speaking, but the

  ringing in the back of my head, sadly not setting off

  enough flags until the door opened.

  Half a head shorter than me, brown hair grown out to his chin and his

  face roughly shaved to stubble; his brown eyes stared up at me from

  under the brim of a cowboy hat in confusion and then surprise. Smells

  of blood and filth hanging to his body even looking recently bathed,

  barely hiding the natural scents underneath.

  The man quickly stepping back and half-opening his mouth as he asked

  to himself as much as me, “Bloodhound?”

  “It’s Mary now,” I reminded him awkwardly, my eye not leaving

  the floor as I only felt naked in the outfit The Lady had

  chosen for me. For a man who’d seen more of me on a regular basis,

  I felt wrong letting him see me like this now as I tried to keep the

  conversation going, “how are you, Hunter?”

  My former mate, my ex-husband as I more often called him lately,

  sputtered out a few awkward sounds. His face and posture only briefly

  swinging to the wildly confident look he preferred, trying to lean

  against the door a short time before seeming to immediately regret

  it.

  His posture returning to stiff, unsure, stepping aside to let me in

  as he tried to answer, “I’m here on business, The Lady’s doing

  some event and well like…you know, we just-”

  “You just…” The Lady started from her desk, “you were just

  insulting my halls claiming a right to full…representation at this

  assembly.”

  A relatively short blonde woman, The Lady wore an elaborate robe of

  blue silk and gold flowers over her dress shirt. One the rare

  vampires old and powerful enough to sit in the sunlight, her skin was

  too pale, too translucent, fangs long enough to always peak from her

  mouth, blood red eyes striking into both of us with a general

  annoyance.

  All three of us.

  A third werewolf, by smell alone, blood and filth strong to her as

  well as she stood by one window overlooking the fields. Short-cut

  black hair in a boyish cut, with a massive pair of aviators on a

  heavily scarred and torn face. A pair of muddy and torn jeans and an

  equally ruined wifebeater making up the rest of her outfit as she

  barely paid attention to us; a burning cigarette held idly in her

  fingers that made me crave my own.

  Barbie perhaps silently judging me for it even as I removed a pack

  from my purse without thinking and was only stopped by The Lady

  clearing her undead throat.

  Still, happy moment as I recognized the woman and asked, “that you,

  Tracker?”

  “Eh, you know it. I haven’t quite yet gotten bored of Virginia

  again — even getting into politics,” Tracker said with a dull

  smile, tossing the remains of her cigarette out the window as she

  turned to walk towards us. Half a limp in her step, a new problem for

  her, but one she ignored even as she asked, “You lost an eye? And

  what’s with the dress? Wouldn’t exactly recommend wearing stuff

  like that around this one.” Her head nodded towards The Lady.

  And yeah, this was just getting worse as I tried to defend it, “I

  was just-”

  “She was just coming to attend my last few…attendances,” The

  Lady finished for me, a rare thin smile to her lips as she gestured

  me beside her, “come, pet, the last guest shall arrive presently.”

  And yeah, I knew how this part worked after so long, even if I now

  felt like I’d have rather died. The look of slight disgust on

  Tracker’s face rather obvious as I let out a sigh and walked over

  to take my place. A little to the side and back, gingerly sat on my

  knees, hands folded in my lap and head raised just enough to be a

  guard dog and look for threats while The Lady could reach out to play

  with or stroke my hair.

  The once proud Purist who talked of the superiority of werewolves and

  massacred humans in the dozens reduced to a house pet. Tracker, my

  first mentor who trusted me with the wolf runes, had every right to

  be disgusted in me, and even hunter looked a little unsure as he

  stared me down.

  The sort of display The Lady liked to reserve for everyone who needed

  to be reminded of who she was.

  The air in the room perhaps a little too tense as I felt ice cold

  hands play with my hair and The Lady declared, “presently,

  presently…” her tongue clicking a few times as she with one

  finger awkwardly clicked at her computer, “yes, I shall…display

  benevolence. I do not care if the Purists believe themselves more

  organized, I shall still treat them as a…regional group. One

  representative, one knight. Mayhaps next lustrum you can prove

  yourself as earning more, little wolves.”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Tracker’s disgust turned to cold anger in a moment, lip pulled thin

  and into a mock smile as she nodded and declared, “fine. I’ll be

  at the assembly to represent the Purists. My mate’s being

  determined tonight and tomorrow, so I’ll have a knight to bring in

  time.” Tracker snapping her fingers as she ordered, “Hunter, run

  ahead and tell Killer to start the car. I need to talk to someone

  first, and I don’t want y’all hearing my call.”

  Hunter nodded, giving me a final long look as he declared, “yes,

  ma’am,” and ran out; Tracker not far on his heels as she closed

  the door behind her.

  The Lady and I left alone, my humiliation for letting them see me

  like this feeling ongoing even as I hesitantly asked, “what did she

  mean by all that?”

  “What did she mean,” The Lady muttered with half-hidden disgust,

  “she is a…prideful child. Purists of the coast held some

  tournaments, she won. She seeks to be treated like someone more

  powerful than she is. Ignore her, my important…employee is arriving

  soon.”

  And I nodded even as I knew what she meant, and what exactly Tracker

  must have done if that were the case.

  More theoretical than anything successfully done, the Purists

  at any time declare a leader to look over and guide them. Each pack

  who wished was able to pick one member, who would then prove

  themselves in tests of strength, hunting, and speed. The winner was

  supposed to be the new leader, and I knew in practice all three times

  it’d been attempted that the leader had died rather shortly after

  and the Purists went back to their local ways.

  Bad sign for Tracker, but it felt weird rooting for her at this

  point.

  No time to rest on that though, it wasn’t a long wait before the

  door was almost violently swung open. A half-one in maybe his

  mid-thirties marching through who smelled too strongly of cologne and

  fresh laundry; his black hair styled into a tight cut, gray suit that

  probably cost most people’s monthly income perfectly done even as

  he barked out, “what is this about a fucking Christmas Eve press

  conference?!”

  “The Christmas press conference?” The Lady asked in a bored tone,

  her hands never leaving my head as she let out a low hum, “yes,

  well, you’re trailing in the polls by…three points? Consider it

  voter outreach.”

  And what confusion I had barely had time to show on my face as the

  man scoffed and paced the floor, waving a handful of papers around as

  he complained, “three points because won’t let me have

  a fucking position beyond corporate talk and trashing my opponent.

  The fact is we’re almost a year away from the election, I told you:

  let me talk about universal healthcare, expansion of voter rights,

  decriminalization of drugs and sex work, fucking just increasing

  minimum wage, something, where I can

  get attention!”

  “Something where you can get attention,” The Lady muttered in

  annoyance, her foot tapping against the floor in a barely audible

  movement I was unused to from her, “you’ll broker those…ideas

  all the same. I don’t need sweeping changes, I need a Senator I can

  keep for a time, no?”

  The man obviously didn’t like that, looking like he was resisting

  lunging at the woman as he complained, “this isn’t why I agreed

  to do this.” a rough hand running over his mouth a few times before

  lunging forward. His foot kicking forward into a chair leg, only

  managing in making it skitter a few feet away and almost tip over as

  he yelled, “fuck! You said I could do my own campaign! You said I

  could do what I want, long as I pressed for a few bills or

  appointments when you needed them!”

  “You could do what you want, yes,” The Lady agreed with a languid

  sigh, pushing herself up from her seat as she idly paced the floor

  around her desk, “however, I would remind you to remember who it

  was that brought you so far. Who pushed Karnstein and Karnstein to

  trust a lawyer with questionable… references from their law School.

  Who had your student loans paid for in a competitive time frame, who

  realized your hopes for a political career and brought you to such a

  current point.”

  And the man stared her down, something dark to his voice as he asked,

  “what makes you think I’ll keep going along with you if you can’t

  even hold to a simple agreement?”

  Barbie looking almost expectantly at me as I tried ignoring the urge

  to step in and stop things getting worse, swallowing my fear as The

  Lady gave a cold smirk. Softly turning on her heels and marching to

  me, crouching low as she rested a single icy nail under my chin and

  asked, “what makes me think that…This is Mary, my right-hand.

  Tell him, Mary, how many of those pesky little…half-ones, I believe

  you still call them, have you killed?”

  The question leaving a dull pain in my chest, a rock in my throat

  even as I forced myself to answer, “almost…it’s probably around

  ninety at this point, counting ones you had me around to help with.”

  And The Lady chuckled like it was a joke, rising back and turning

  with confidence as she kept predator eyes fixed on the man and paced

  to the side to show me off once more.

  “Ninety humans, some werewolves and others,” The Lady reiterated

  like it was a show dog’s pedigree and training, “she is one of

  the werewolves as well, and I hold many of their kind under my sway.

  I could beat her and she’d not snap a fang, I could collar her and

  walk her on a leash in the streets and she’d not dare complain.

  This, Richard, is why you shall not tread on our arrangement. Your

  grades were real, I assume you’re intelligent enough to understand.

  I have waited centuries to attempt this sort of investment, and I do

  not mind… liquidating it and trying again in a few decades.”

  And the man didn’t respond, teeth grinding loud enough for me to

  hear them as he turned on his heels and marched out. Head high,

  pushing through the door and nearly trampling over a confused Samuel

  who didn’t wait to get invited in.

  The older werewolf obviously trying to not look towards me as he

  asked The Lady, “was that Tony Richard?”

  “Was that…yes, now wait here,” The Lady declared as she started

  towards the door herself and called back, “I will…debrief Samuel

  about what he’s learned, and ask you about the one killing hunters

  over dinner. Make your way to the dining hall, I’ve ordered four

  courses for tonight.”

  Heavy doors having only a few seconds to close before I let myself

  rise to my feet, grunting as I stood and asked Samuel, “who’s

  Tony Richard?

  Samuel looked genuinely confused at that, his brow furrowed and head

  tilted as he slowly explained, “he’s…you don’t know? One the

  candidates for Senator, announced his run last year? He’s running

  ads all over the place, how haven’t you heard about him? I thought

  it was weird that someone from The Lady’s firm was announcing a

  run, but I didn’t think she’d actually be talking with him.”

  “Samuel, I’m legally dead and my driver’s license and birth

  certificate was given to me by an administrator in a college student

  center. I barely keep track of politics not on my dashboard or a

  couple LGBT Forums, and that’s more national news,” I said as I

  moved to stand beside him, the man glancing my way for only a second,

  “sounded like she’s running his campaign, at least I think she

  is. Any reason she wouldn’t be getting political connections? I

  mean, she seems to already own one of everything else in the state,

  why not a politician?”

  The man actually looked concerned at that, stepping closer as he

  half-whispered, “supernaturals do not get involved in politics,

  Mary, it’s like how I don’t go running around in wolf form in

  Maymont. Cops, administrator’s, clerks, all that, they can get paid

  off and sweep shit under the rug if they get found out, but

  politicians? We don’t risk it.”

  And I had to admit the idea sounded to me on a moral

  level, but it didn’t feel like top five worst things she’d done

  in front of me, “what’s the problem with it? I mean, morally it’s

  fucked up, but I help cut up a body and melt it in acid at least once

  a month. How is this any worse?”

  One more glance back at the door, and Samuel lurched forward, a hand

  on my shoulder as he held the other up and counted off, “Hamilton,

  Nixon, Clinton, Budd Dwyer, those are four I could think of in five

  seconds who did shit and got found out.”

  “Who the fuck is Budd Dwyer?”

  “Fuck you’re young,” Samuel sighed out a moment before forcing

  himself to continue,

  “The point is, one of those is from

  colonial times, and we live in an era of the NSA and two government

  entities literally dedicated to spywork. Journalists watch

  politicians, interns watch politicians, government agencies spy on

  politicians to look for security risks, and if one of them gets

  suspicious of The Lady and looks too deep into her, we’re all

  fucked.”

  Yeah no, he was making a very compelling case for this being a

  problem, “why risk it then?”

  “I don’t know,” Samuel admitted with a defeated sigh, “what I

  do know is she’s hosting a big meeting in a few days, supernaturals

  from around the region, allies she’s had for centuries, once every

  five year thing she hosts. If this gets out it’s bad news; so keep

  it quiet for now, even at the Covenant, alright?”

  I nodded, halfway not wanting to question it and halfway feeling like

  thinking on it too hard would just cause more problems than it was

  worth.