Wolf Roulette: Supernatural Battle

by Kelly St Clare

  Dang. Mind-speak had distance limits.

  Sascha met my gaze. “You’d like to redefine the borders of Timber to allow for the construction of an airport. We don’t see how this would benefit us, but the pack would need a copy of the tribe’s contract with the council before considering anything.”

  He was such a bullshitter. Then again, I’d known he’d spin these negotiations to pack favour—it’s not like the head team knew about the whole mating situation.

  I jotted that down. “The tribe can provide the final contract for the pack prior to signing. We agree that no further amendments will be made after the fact.”

  All six of the wolves were scowling.

  Wow… or had I missed the mark on the pack’s reaction? I expected them to be overjoyed at this news. “The main points from the contract for your consideration are that Deception Valley Exports will have exclusivity on air transportation for imports and exports.

  Grim stared down his nose at me. “Why would we ever agree to that?”

  “You’ll have the option to contract us for the movement of resources. However, keep in mind that we will move off the roads—completely, in time—leaving that niche to you. Our service will not be accessible to you for the importation of grid equipment, of course.”

  “Of course,” Mandy muttered.

  “What type of fees will be involved in the pack contracting space? I assume they’ll be extortionate.” Sascha crossed his arms.

  Mmm, tight T-shirt. “Stanley, would you agree that fees can be negotiated in advance of signing the contract?”

  The man on my left grunted. “Accounting for inflation, then yes, we can set the fees.”

  Sascha tilted his head. “The pack won’t agree to anything other than fair fees. That is a make or break clause for us.”

  Sure it was.

  Half of my team entered this meeting adamant the Luthers would never agree to an airport. I inhaled their shock and excitement at his words.

  Wade spoke, “The pack would have complete access to passenger seats.”

  “And free travel,” Sascha replied.

  I laughed shortly. “The Ni Tiaki are paying for more than half of the airport, Mr Greyson, and even we won’t travel for free.”

  He smirked. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Miss Thana. Your airport relies on this strip of land in Timber.”

  Maybe it was a good thing we weren’t face to face. Because incoming lie. “Incorrect. While experts agreed that particular site is the best, there are other places outside of Grids that could be developed at a higher cost.” I sighed. “Higher construction costs would unfortunately be passed onto our customers in the form of steeper fees. Business is business, you understand.”

  I doubted anyone without werewolf eyes noticed his lips twitch.

  I continued. “If the pack wishes to press free travel, then the tribe would need to run numbers to see how many seats could be put aside each week for your travel. A restriction would be introduced where there would otherwise be no restriction.”

  Maybe that would help to reassure the pack that there wouldn’t be a mass exodus to find mates.

  Leroy shot me a look. “Timber is in our possession. The airport you’re requesting to build will take 150 acres of our product away.”

  I didn’t miss his use of the word requesting. Alpha brat. “The Ni Tiaki are willing to gift tribal land to the timber mill trust.”

  “A hundred and fifty acres of tribal land?” Sascha’s focus sharpened.

  Roderick cut in. “The wood contained in the gifted land will be of far greater value than what’s currently being milled.”

  There’s no way I’d gift virgin forest to the mill, but once upon a time Timber was bigger. The last time Victratum restarted, the parameters of the grid shrunk. The trees we intended to give back were now fifty years old, but not hundreds and thousands of years old like the rest.

  “Pascal,” I murmured. “Please send the land map through.”

  We waited as the six Luthers studied the boundaries.

  Sascha glanced up. “That’s a far lower number than 150.”

  “We believe it holds equivalent value. Plus, Timber won’t be your problem after tomorrow when I win it. If you consider that parcel of land a loss, then it will be our loss, not yours.”

  The wolves scowled. Wade snorted.

  Sascha regarded the map again. “While we can agree that the trees on this land bring a small amount of increased value, the pack won’t consider less than 135 acres.”

  A joke.

  “We’ve offered 70. I’m willing to bring that up to 100 acres as a show of goodwill.”

  He considered me. “Let’s split the difference. The pack will consider 117 acres in exchange for the taken land. You can keep the half an acre difference as a show of our good will.”

  So generous.

  But all going well, Timber would be in my possession tomorrow. Did I back myself? Yes. “Agreed. I think we’ve covered the main—”

  “There would need to be an exemption from Victratum’s care of the land clause where this is concerned,” Sascha’s gaze bore into mine. “We wouldn’t want to be considered at fault for milling older trees or for agreeing to relinquish land for the purposes of an airport.”

  Dammit. We needed more penalty points and that had been my best idea so far. “That goes without saying.”

  He arched a brow. “Even so. I insist.”

  When will you have sex with him? Booker asked.

  Not the time, I mentally hissed back. Save me from werewolves with crushes.

  The pack leader widened his stance. “I’ll confer with my people and return with an answer on Sunday.”

  He better not fuck this up.

  If you’d waited to show your butthole to him after this meeting, instead of the other night, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

  I ignored Booker’s huffing laughter. “Moving onto point two then. You have jobs that require filling. We have people needing jobs. This move would be irregular, but so was the pack’s request for grid announcements to be held face to face not so long ago. This exchange could benefit both of our people in more ways than financially.”

  The pack’s scowls were gone.

  They were all over the damn place today.

  “The pack agrees to employ your stewards,” Sascha announced.

  “Just like that?”

  My head team was surprised. Well, Wade was hungry. But everyone else was surprised.

  “My wolves are working too hard. Due to our nature, hiring outsiders to work alongside us poses a big issue. This is a clear solution while Victratum continues, and one I planned to bring up on Sunday.”

  I recalled something else Trixie had raised in the past. “The reverse makes sense too. When the Ni Tiaki have four grids in our possession, we’ll happily employ your pack to fill positions.”

  Sascha smirked. I smirked back.

  “Our marshal is still new to her position.” He glanced at Pascal. “If your marshal could mentor her through the process of drawing up a new agreement, we’d appreciate that.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Pascal answered.

  Beside me, Stanley swore as Sascha’s eyes flooded black.

  Greyson stared out at me. “Soon, little bird.”

  The call cut off.

  Right…

  Nine sets of eyes riveted on me, the emotions of their owners ranging from curious to alarmed to amused—Wade.

  Nathan broke the silence. “What was that about?”

  “The next meet, I’d say.” I stacked my papers. “His wolf is eager to keep going.”

  Wade finished his coffee. “Do you think he’ll do it tomorrow in the grid?”

  I pursed my lips. “Timber will likely be a close game. Attacking me in the grid will lose the pack points.”

  “It’s an attack?” Trixie’s eyes widened.

  “A bite. I’m fairly sure that Sascha’s wolf wants me in wolf form for it.” Hmm. “I can’t
be sure, but I don’t think he’ll attempt something in Timber. After what happened with Herc though, I won’t take any chances. I’ll isolate from everyone else for the duration of the game.”

  Nathan cast me a strange look. “That will make you a target.”

  “They can only get one point from taking me down.”

  Pascal stood. “You’re worth far more than one point to this tribe. The stewards rely on your excellent leadership.”

  Perhaps. We had a chain of command in place, just in case. Reindeer was always prepped to take over if I went down.

  I checked the time. “Two hours before the gathering.”

  Sending stewards to work with the pack wouldn’t be my choice alone. The tribe would either step up. Or they wouldn’t.

  But it had to be their choice.

  “What do you think they’ll decide?” Roderick asked.

  A total of 64 percent had agreed to cater to my Luther needs if I returned as head steward.

  I really hoped that 64 percent felt they’d made the right decision and were willing to try something new yet again.

  18

  My stomach churned as the second cannon fired.

  Are you going to shit yourself? I’d prefer to shift, if so.

  Exhaling, I blinked a few times. I’m okay. Probably.

  I listened to the pounding footsteps as Luthers entered the grid. The sound was only just audible over the frequency generators.

  Booker took over our sense of smell, so I could focus on delivering orders. Tonight, we’d need to work hard.

  They’re climbing the trees, she reported.

  Sascha would be a fool to alter his strategy. Even when Rhona knew about his plans to use the trees and countered, the pack won.

  But he’d have new tricks up his sleeve too.

  And so did we.

  Timber had remained in our possession for 79 percent of Victratum to date and the grid bordered manor lands. My stewards knew this place.

  They knew the tallest trees.

  Where the most expansive views were.

  And the best hiding places.

  “Reindeer. Luthers dispersing throughout grid. Over.”

  Good. The exact same strategy as a fortnight ago. Luthers were hardest to battle in a solid group—which was why Alexei mostly stuck to that during his stint as pack leader. Sascha was confident about their advantage.

  Last time, the pack used nets to great effectiveness against us.

  Snow’s voice crackled in my ear. “Group congregating J7. Twenty-seven.”

  Herc’s first advice to me was to never say anything specific over the walkies. The pack always figured out our frequency and listened in.

  The leader of the south team just told me that seventeen Luthers were in the trees in section K6.

  I crouched in front of the map rolled out on the forest floor. There was a ground unit hiding in K7 awaiting orders. Seventeen Luthers fighting from the trees were too much for one unit.

  There was a second unit in K10, and Snow was at one of our vantage trees in K8 with two members of her unit. They could help out too.

  Rhona opted for a ground-only counter-attack last time, but I felt vantage points would help our ground teams immensely.

  I clicked on my walkie. “Big Red. Wicked, initiate Operation Chuckles. J13.” I spoke to the entire tribe next. “Big Red. J8 and J11, prepare to engage. Closest vantage, permission to engage also.”

  We needed the group of Luthers to move west so Snow and the second unit could help take the Luthers down.

  Less than a minute later, the new West team leader replied, “Wicked. Task completed. Over.”

  She’d just switched off a few frequency generators in K12 and fired a few times. Just for two or three seconds. We’d tested the result on my ears. The sudden sound mimicked a skirmish.

  The fake skirmish should draw the Luthers in. “Come on.”

  “Snow. J8. Moving fast. Over.”

  I readied my hand on the walkie.

  “Snow J9. Over.”

  I blurted. “Big Red. J8, J11, and closet vantage, engage. Over.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I strained to hear.

  Nothing.

  The group has halted, Booker inhaled.

  Every steward had worked tirelessly to memorize a list of hiding spots in their section of the grid. There were thousands of hiding spots in total. The idea was to tease the Luthers to the ground so we could take them out safely. In addition, three stewards in each unit were on nets. If a Luther was shot in the trees, it was their job to catch the unconscious pack member as best they could.

  The plan wasn’t perfect, but I was at a loss of how else to prevent forfeiting points due to serious injury. That’s what got Rhona last time.

  “Snow. Group contained. Task complete. Over.”

  No one got away.

  I smiled.

  Wicked and Reindeer reported more clusters and I hurried to my map again, firing orders to the tribe. Numbers whirled in my head.

  Listening to another report, I rattled off an order to the team in east. Fuck me, this code was a mind fuck.

  A27 converted to B26, right? I hurtled more orders into the grid.

  And the reports didn’t stop.

  Booker’s updates were the only thing I could focus on other than the map.

  Boom.

  I jerked at the sound of the cannon. “It’s over already?”

  A glance at my watch confirmed an entire hour had passed.

  Whoa. That was intense. My brain hurt.

  Do you think it worked? my wolf asked.

  I hope so. I really, really hoped so.

  Gathering my map, I ran at Luther speed through the grid toward Pascal’s usual position. Guess Greyson isn’t making a move for the bite meet tonight.

  He likes us uncertain, she replied.

  He did. And was good at it.

  I reached the north entrance and searched for Pascal’s lily scent.

  “Head Steward, how did we do?” a woman asked.

  I squeezed her shoulder. “Unsure just yet.”

  Pascal had access to strategically placed cameras and heat sensor information so she and the other marshal could tally some of the score as the game rolled out. That meant I normally had some idea of where the tribe stood.

  Ugh, so many things could affect the score tonight.

  What if our plan wasn’t enough?

  The pack members we tranquilised at the start of the hour could have woken before the end—though we’d asked the stewards to monitor fallen Luthers.

  Forcing bravado to the fore, I smiled and nodded at returning stewards.

  Snow joined me and we fist-bumped.

  “Good work out there,” I told her.

  “Back at ya. Got hectic, huh?”

  “Coordinating units may be a two or three-person job.”

  She snorted.

  I glanced around for Pascal again. “Anything else happen that I missed?”

  “Not all of the pack went up into the trees. Greyson sent at least three larger forces on general sweeps.”

  Dang. “Many casualties?”

  “More than we’d have liked,” she replied grimly “Will the marshals take long?”

  In this grid?

  Always.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Stewards, you did amazing today. Let’s head back to the manor to await the score.”

  The urge to shift and run to ease my nerves itched at me, but I didn’t want to be alone to hear the result either.

  With my stewards, I walked back to the manor in tense silence.

  Tribe members soon packed the large lounge area that lead out to the patio and pool. Stewards who didn’t even enter the grid had gathered too. Generally, we took a load off after grid night and had a few drinks and laughs.

  Not tonight.

  We spilled throughout the house and over the front lawn, barely making a peep.

  “I swear Pascal is dragging this out on purpose,�
� Wade said from the armchair next to mine.

  I’d laugh, but… was she? “I thought this week would be easier to take than Iron.”

  Nathan sighed. “Some weeks, the game just means more.”

  Pascal entered, and I crossed the room to her at Luther speed.

  I clutched her forearms. “Tell us.”

  Her lips curved. “Congratulations, Head Steward.”

  The room exploded in an uproar of shouts and cheering. Disregarding my ringing ears, I hugged Pascal tight.

  She patted my back. “Well done. A convincing win.”

  “How convincing?”

  “Twenty-five points convincing.”

  Wade and Cameron pulled me out onto the patio and a mic was shoved in my hands.

  I breathed in the jubilation covering the manor grounds.

  “Stewards,” I said when they quietened enough to hear. “We did it!”

  They jumped and hugged each other. This was enough to make a bad bitch cry—and I was a pretty soft-hearted bitch, really.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I held the microphone to my lips. “I’m in awe of you once again.” They’d executed such a complex plan to perfection.

  My throat tightened. Dammit.

  Wade ripped the mic away. “I don’t know about you guys, but I wondered at least three times tonight whether our head steward was stopping for breath. I’ve never experienced another leader do that. Put your hands together, ladies and gents.”

  That about did it. I tried to be discreet about dabbing the corners of my eyes. Cameron ruined it by handing me a tissue.

  I took the mic back after. “Two grids, and we’re not stopping until we have all five. Enjoy tonight and—”

  Stanley whispered in my ear and passed me two pieces of paper.

  I studied the two slips. “One moment. I have the results of the poll we opened last night.”

  The crowd hushed.

  I held up the two pieces of paper. “We polled the unemployed stewards separately from the rest of the tribe. The head team decided that as the affected group, their voice should hold particular weight in our decision.” I read the result aloud, “Of the currently unemployed stewards, 83 percent voted in favour of working with the Luthers.”

  We were a tribe, but families had to look out for themselves within that. No surprises that the idea of taking a 20 to 40 percent pay cut hadn’t appealed to most.