Wolf Roulette: Supernatural Battle

by Kelly St Clare

  My brows lifted. I wouldn’t go that far, but if the tribe believed that, I wouldn’t correct them.

  Other than that, they were appropriately afraid of what was to come.

  Good.

  Now, the stewards just had to come to the right solution.

  And it had to come from them.

  I unplugged my headphones and exited the Water app screen. Tucking my phone in my pocket, I grabbed my saxophone from the chair and placed it back in the case.

  With no other excuse to delay, I left the manor.

  The tribe quietened at my passing, and I didn’t drag out the moment needlessly by stopping to chat as I usually did.

  My head team stood at the front, each holding a microphone.

  They’d worked around the clock since last Thursday. Stanley looked ready to drop.

  “Thank you all for getting us to this moment,” I said for their ears only. “It’s up to our stewards now.”

  Wade’s nod was as terse as the others.

  They dispersed through the crowd.

  I caught Rhona’s curious gaze from the second row but turned away to climb the stage stairs. Freeing the microphone, I looked at the tribe and inhaled their uncertainty, confusion, and fear.

  “There has never been a moment so important in our tribe’s history,” I addressed them. “On Sunday, I asked that you consider what happens if we win and the Luthers leave the valley. Tonight, we will make a decision for our children and children’s children.”

  The stewards weren’t stupid. They’d guessed where my question was leading.

  But they didn’t have all the facts just yet.

  “First, I wanted to ask how the training with our guests went yesterday and this afternoon.”

  There was a general murmur of approval. Some excitement.

  They still had no idea our guests were vampires. I’d watched them practice with the Vissimo at interval. Though my stewards’ heartbeats increased and their scent changed slightly in reaction to the supernaturals’ presence, for the most part they felt nothing more than curiosity. Basilia had seemed to think so many Vissimo would cause panic in them, but I wondered if regular exposure to other supernaturals had given this tribe a certain resilience over the centuries. Strangely, those who didn’t react as strongly felt the most wariness about our guests, but they were few.

  I nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. If Gerry spoke, he’d shout your praise. Thank you for your effort.”

  That earned a few laughs, but the mood quickly sank back to trepidation.

  “There has been a development in Grids that myself and the head team decided not to impart with you all until now. We wanted the focus to be on memorising the influx of new strategies. On Sunday, there was a meeting with the pack. Two of our sandstone experts attended also. The meeting was called to settle concerns our sandstone stewards had picked up on while working for the pack.”

  Their spying job was no secret within the tribe, but only a handful of our sandstone stewards knew what had happened with the reports.

  My hands shook slightly—not with apprehension. With anticipation. “As a result of that meeting, a grid was turned over—”

  There was a collective breath-hold.

  “—to us.” I finished. “We are now in possession of Clay, bringing us up to a total of four grids.”

  The tribe exploded. I grinned as they shouted and screamed, watching on as they hugged each other.

  We’d possessed four grids three times since the game’s origins.

  I waited as the stewards celebrated, breathing in their relief and excitement.

  I waited as their happy calls quietened.

  … As their happiness morphed to determination and realisation.

  Yes.

  Tomorrow could be the end, and where would we be then? Five grids rich, and on the cusp of something more frightening than anything we’d faced?

  Their nervousness swelled.

  I returned the microphone to my lips. “Tomorrow, we could win Victratum. This game could be over. One week ago, that would have been a cause for celebration. Now, we know better.”

  This gathering had to be different from anything I’d done before.

  I perched on the edge of the stage. “Please take a seat on the grass. If you’re near a steward unable to do so, please help them to a chair at the back.”

  Five minutes later, the tribe was more comfortably situated. This felt far more like the more informal gatherings during the new moon.

  “On Sunday, you learned many new things,” I said. “What are your thoughts about what you heard? Raise your hand, and a head team member will be along with a microphone. Please don’t hold anything back. We must come to a decision on this tonight for obvious reasons, and I don’t believe this should be my decision alone—or that of the head team. Please be aware that the decision made will be final.”

  A steward stood, Wade just behind him.

  “Drake,” I greeted. “What are your thoughts?”

  He swallowed. “It seems hopeless, Head Steward. If the Luthers leave, then other supernaturals might come, but even if we work with the pack, we’ll number less than two thousand. You said there are tens of thousands of the other races. Aren’t we better to just win Grids and see what happens in the future? Plus, if the other races attack, they could kill the remaining Luthers. Why would the pack stay and put themselves in danger when there’s an airport being built and they can go?”

  There were more than a few nods.

  “Our numbers are a problem,” I answered. “Can anyone see a solution to this?”

  No one raised their hand.

  I continued, “We’ll come back to that. For now, pretend that numbers aren’t an issue. Let’s move on to the other part of Drake’s comment. Why would the werewolves stay when they’d be in danger? To that, I pose a question to you all. Why wouldn’t we just leave? We aren’t trapped. We could escape and never need to worry about other supernatural threats. Don’t forget that most of the pack have lived in Deception Valley for over two hundred and sixty years. Their lifespans are far greater than ours. Think of the connection you feel to this land after ten, thirty, or seventy years. The pack consider this valley their home, and that’s why they’ll protect it. Just as we will. But to stay, the pack would need to feel they can call this valley their home. That’s a certainty.”

  Another steward stood. Trixie crossed to her.

  “Jessi.”

  “Head Steward.” She tugged at her hemp tunic. “I guess in any partnership, both sides need to feel they have a reason to work together, but to call this home, the pack would want what they’ve always wanted, wouldn’t they? That goes against everything Ni Tiaki value and I’m worried that would cheapen the sacrifices our ancestors made to fight for our home. I want a solution, but it seems impossible.”

  “Thank you, Jessi.” I pursed my lips. “I believe there are two parts to a solution. One, this tribe firmly believes the land should be protected. Care of the land has been a clause in Victratum since day one. The pack have always, until their recent lapse due to inexperience, displayed the utmost consideration for this valley. Those who have visited pack lands have witnessed the care Luthers take with their territory. On this point, the tribe and pack are of the same mind, but continued care of the land could be a condition of any proposal we make to the pack.”

  “And what would our proposal be?” she asked.

  “Which brings me to the second part of a solution. Ownership of the valley has and always will be against our tribe’s code. The pack has made a proposal already with our code in mind,” I announced. “But I want to ask you to come up with solutions before presenting that.”

  The tribe stared up at me.

  Yeah, that was pretty much the head team’s reaction.

  Stanley held the microphone out to Margaret Frey.

  “They won’t remain as guests, and we won’t let them own the land,” she said. “So there’s only one solution. We do for them w
hat we did for ourselves one hundred years ago. We gift them land in trust.”

  Her words created a stir.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever loved the woman more.

  She sat, and the stewards whispered to each other.

  “What do others think?” I prompted.

  “What if the pack took advantage of the trust somehow?” a steward named Jeffery asked.

  They were getting there. “Perhaps adding a safety clause to the contract as well as a care of land clause would be a good idea.”

  The stewards began to debate with each other. I chimed in at intervals to keep the discussion focused.

  After twenty minutes, I drew their conversation to a halt. “On behalf of the pack, Sascha Greyson has presented a similar proposal to what you’ve discussed. He believes that if his people are offered land in trust, then they will be open to an alliance with us against the outward threats we face. We would work in tandem to collect information on the surrounding supernatural threats and to work on our operations and defences in readiness of any future attack. The tribe has strengths the pack doesn’t, and the opposite is also true. Our chances of success are far higher if we work side by side. That doesn’t mean we need to do anything against our Ni Tiaki code. No one owns lands in this valley, and that will continue. We can return to the pack with a counter proposal and include any safety clauses we like, but I’m in agreement with Margaret Frey. This is the only way I can see that we can put the land feud to rest and protect this tribe’s future.”

  “We’re still only two thousand against tens of thousands,” Eleanor spoke into Nathan’s mic.

  I dipped my head. “At one point, I’m sure our ancestors wondered how they’d ever hold their own against werewolves. But… I agree with you. We don’t stand a chance with our current numbers.”

  Shock. Fear.

  Bitter disappointment.

  “Over the last few weeks, I’ve been in talks with the vampires of Bluff City,” I told them. “As you heard on Sunday, they number more than fifteen thousand.”

  I absorbed the wave of their horrified reaction, listening as they breathed the word vampire with horror.

  In the first lull, I jumped in again. “We’re in need of friends right now. Not only does an alliance between pack, tribe, and the Vissimo clan offer greater security, but it prevents any potential alliance between demon, witch, and vampire against us at a later date.”

  Pascal handed her mic to Tessie.

  “Vampires,” the council woman repeated. “Who drink human blood?”

  There was a loud outcry at her statement.

  “The idea of a vampire is terrifying.” I studied them closely. Were they aware of the difference of this reaction to their reaction over Luthers? On some level, the tribe knew werewolves weren’t a threat. “More than that, the unknown is terrifying.”

  Some stewards were standing now, unable to stay seated.

  I let the outcry die down. “On Monday, five hundred guests entered tribal lands. You’ve trained with these guests over the last two days.” I paused. “Did you ever wonder what they were? Because I can tell you, they’re not human.”

  Silence.

  “Our guests are vampires.”

  My stewards had been quiet in the past, but this took the prize.

  I forged on. “At the beginning, I asked how your training with them had gone. You were approving and even excited. My apologies for the subterfuge, but I wanted to show you something important.” I gripped the microphone tight. “I smell your fear now you know the truth—and it’s a natural response. Fear warns us to proceed with caution in new territory. Fear helps us to fully consider our options before making big decisions. To be ruled by fear of the unknown is another thing. If we don’t regulate our reaction, then with time that natural response festers to something darker. Fear can become avoidance. Avoidance to wilful ignorance. Combined, that becomes an angry disregard that rots to blind hatred. Yet at the root of all that remains one thing. Fear. Those who hate have allowed that emotion to rule them. What’s more, they’ve convinced themselves they don’t feel fear at all—that their hate is warranted and just. And that makes them small. Tiny.”

  Some people here were tiny.

  For a time, I was on my way to becoming one of them.

  But they were a minority before my return to head stewardship and they became less each day.

  Hate could be reversed.

  If there was one thing I blamed some of my Thana ancestors for, it was their encouragement of bad will between Ni Tiaki and pack.

  I refused to be that leader.

  I got up and returned the mic to the stand. “The stewards in this tribe are not tiny people, but there’s real danger in allowing our fear to regulate the crucial decision we must make. It’s normal for so much change to feel unsettling and scary. The game could end tomorrow. We could enter a partnership with the pack and face a fight against outside threats. We could align with a vampire race we haven’t had many dealings with. With all that to consider, you wouldn’t be alone in wishing to avoid all of it, but I urge you to check that emotion in its tracks. This tribe and this head team have your back. I will not allow harm to befall any being in this valley—tribe, pack, or members of the public. And that is why I present the following plan to you now.”

  The head team joined me up on stage as discussed.

  “A series of polls will be sent out immediately after this gathering. You will determine if we approach the pack with a counterproposal or if they will be exiled from the valley. You will decide what clauses are added to a partnership contract between us. You will choose whether the tribe pursues negotiations with the vampire clan to form an alliance against outside threats. I stand by what I said earlier. This is not my decision, but the entire tribe’s. The future of the Ni Tiaki is in your hands. I only ask that you decide truly and without fear in your hearts. Because this is it.”

  I’d done everything I could.

  And it didn’t feel like enough.

  Nowhere near enough.

  “Pascal,” I murmured. “Please do the honours.”

  Tablet in hand, the marshal sent out the polls.

  Fuck.

  It was done.

  The fate of Deception Valley was in my steward’s hands.

  I swallowed back my own fear. “Stewards, we have one grid to turn over. What I’ve told you is unsettling to the extreme, I know, but as ever, we must focus on the task at hand. In light of that, the results of this poll won’t be announced until after the game tomorrow night.”

  Pascal leaned closer. “Sent.”

  “Please return home and vote without delay,” I said to them gravely. “Get what sleep you can. Tomorrow, we end Victratum for good.”

  32

  The stewards are voting on entering land negotiations with the pack, I thought to Sascha. And the alliance with vampires.

  No response.

  He’d barely looked at me on his exit from the meeting with Kyros and Basilia. Sure, he’d come to the table and agreed to at least pursue the alliance, but…

  Sascha had always supported me.

  To think we’d come so far to fall down at the last hurdle threatened to undo my determination to see things through.

  Without him, life was an empty thing.

  I love you, I thought at him.

  As he’d done since Sunday, Sascha closed the bond as soon as I opened it. With anyone else, I would have moved on.

  With him, so much was now impossible. I couldn’t pretend the anguish away.

  I’ve felt what you’re feeling now, Sascha. Our pack is going to be okay. I promise you.

  Nothing. A lump rose in my throat.

  My phone rang, and the leaping of my heart was entirely pathetic.

  “Mandy?” What the hell?

  I answered. “Hello?”

  “Andie. I need permission to enter the manor without penalty in Grids.”

  Hmm. Mandy wasn’t my biggest fan in recent times. She wa
s also a pack female.

  I leaned back in my office seat. “Permission granted. Any illegal action taken while on manor lands will be enforced, however.”

  She hung up.

  I caught the purr of a car motor. The vehicle stopped outside the manor, and soft footsteps crunched on the gravel before sounding in the hall.

  Mandy entered the office, a stack of boxes in her arms.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  She set the stack down on the coffee table. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  I didn’t answer.

  The delta crossed her arms. “You want Sascha.”

  “Took you a while to catch on.”

  “Took you a while to admit it.”

  “And still, I’m unsure why it’s any of your business.”

  Mandy shrugged a shoulder. “I’m a delta.”

  “And you crave recognition, right?” My reply was soft.

  She coloured.

  There was a tinge of defiance in her scent.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” I watched her closely. “Sascha’s top wolves are chosen because they’ve essentially mastered the shortcoming of their status.”

  Mandy tensed. “What are you saying?”

  “By deciding that you knew better than Sascha or me, you disrupted the harmony of the pack. That’s unacceptable in any pack Luther, more so in one meant to be a role model. What did you hope to achieve, Mandy? And was that worth our entire community?”

  She sighed and sat. “I fucked up, okay.”

  “I’m glad you’re aware of that.”

  The delta stared at her hands. “Sascha put me on probation after I punched you in the grid. I’ve never seen him so angry.” She raised her gaze to mine. “Or you.”

  I’d never hurt someone the way I hurt Mandy that night. “You nearly killed him.”

  She nodded. “I let my ambition to see him happy become something else. I realised that as soon as you fell. But when you hit me, I realised something else… You love him.”

  Honestly, it was none of her business either way, but she could smell my agreement.

  Her eyes glittered. “I watched you at the ball. It confirmed my suspicion.”