by H. D. Gordon
In all honesty, this was not how I’d planned this morning going, but one of my favorite personal qualities was my ability to make lemonade out of lemons. I needed workers if I was going to keep a steady supply of moonshine flowing for Lukas Borden, and these ladies just happened to need new jobs. In that moment, it all seemed incredibly simple to me. What did it matter that we were different races? Poor was poor, and desperate did not discriminate.
“What you’re suggesting is we be part of your Pack,” Cora said at last. “That you can provide for us as Alpha. Am I right about that?”
I leaned back a bit on my heels and slipped my hands into my pockets. “That’s a fine way to put it, yes.”
Silence held for a few long moments, during which I wondered if I’d have to threaten them to keep them quiet, if this whole thing might go even further south, even faster. But, then, just when enough time had passed that I was seriously contemplating my next course of action, Cora cleared her throat.
In the silence, I realized, they’d been discussing the decision with just their body language. And I was about to hear the verdict.
“We have your word that you would never ask us to sell our bodies again?” Cecelia asked, her green eyes penetrating.
Though I knew she had no way of knowing that I’d done it, I suddenly regretted having sent my father to a working lady last night, despite the fact that it may very well have saved Demarco’s hide.
I nodded slowly, making sure to meet the eyes of each girl. “If you are so inclined to accept my offer, ladies, you have my word that from this day forth your bodies will be your own, to do with what you please.” I paused, studying them, with their young faces and compact, abused bodies. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to say otherwise.”
They may not have known me very well, other than what they might have heard as town gossip and rumors, but the blood still spotting my face and hands was testament enough that I meant what I’d said.
And, yet, my heartbeat picked up in pace as I awaited their answer.
“Bootlegging, huh?” Cora said at last. “With a female Wolf at the helm.”
Into the thick silence that befell the space, gently, I said, “They teach us to hate each other, ladies, and it keeps us down, keeps us weak.” I jerked my chin toward the body under the rug. “You put your trust in that piece of shit, and how did he repay that? By forcing you to enter his bed? By stealing enough of your earnings to make sure you never leave?”
A couple of the girls glared over at the lumped rug, while the other two looked down at their feet. Cora and the Fae female, whose name I’d yet to learn, were the only two who held my stare, a detail I made sure to tuck away for later.
“I’m offering you a choice,” I continued. “I’m offering you freedom.”
There was a knock on my mental shield; a request made between Wolves when one wanted to communicate telepathically. I could tell instinctively that the request had come from the curly haired female Wolf with a rather dark bruise on her upper arm, and though sharing thoughts was an intimate exchange, something usually reserved for family and very close friends, I acquiesced, allowing her in.
In my head, she said, “How can a trapped Wolf offer freedom? You are as stuck in this place as we are, are you not?”
Looking into the eyes of the young female with the gaze of someone much older, I had a feeling that my response to this was going to make or break the offer. With little time to decide, I made the choice to answer honestly. On the rare occasions I’d done so, it had usually worked in my favor.
“You’re right,” I replied, nodding my head just slightly and holding her stare. “But I have plans to get out of this place, and take my family with me. If we work together… if you and the other ladies join me, perhaps we can finally escape this trap… this cage… together.”
From the small grin that tugged at her lips, I knew that my wager on honesty had been a good bet.
The curly haired Wolf gave a small, sure nod to Cora, who pursed her red lips and raised her arched brows at me.
“Okay, Miss Silvers,” the Vampire said. “It looks like we have a deal.”
Chapter 7
The building Ezra was renting was paid up until the end of the month. Until that time, the girls could stay in their rooms. After that, I would need to find a suitable place for them to live, which was a large task considering that I lived in a veritable shithole myself.
But I had nearly a moon cycle to figure out a solution, and I would. As a down payment, I gave Cora all of my winnings from the fights the previous evening, which was enough for them to get by without sacrificing their bodies.
It also left my own pockets absolutely empty.
Empty, save for the wrinkled paper I always carried around with me. I pulled it out now, as I often did when I had a rare moment alone, and unfolded the sheet that had gone thin and silky with time.
On the paper—(which I’d torn out of a book when I was eight, and was chased out of the store in which the book had been available by a fat Wolf with a twitching mustache, giggling like the little demon I was)—was the image of a quaint town, with homes with arched rooftops and paved, clean streets, nestled at the base of snow-topped mountains. A canal ran through the center of it, and a stone bridge spanned across it, allowing access to the little shops and stores on the other side.
A fairytale, my father had called it when I’d brought it home and showed him all those years ago. The book I’d torn it out of surely fiction. He insisted no such place existed. And even if it did, we had no way of getting there.
In his mind, there was only The Mound. Beyond that, Borden. And, beyond that, nothing.
My mind saw things much differently.
But I sighed and folded the paper along its well-worn creases, slipping it back into my jacket pocket.
There was the little matter of removing and getting rid of Ezra’s fat body, and the evidence of his demise.
Luckily, there were easier solutions to this than the other issues I would need to resolve sooner rather than later.
Investments, I kept reminding myself. One had to spend money to make money, and while killing Ezra Ikers had already proved to be a costly endeavor, I now had a workforce to produce the moonshine I’d promised Lukas Borden I could deliver.
I’d summoned Devon and Demarco by way of bottle—another form of Seer-sanctioned magic that could be purchased for a price—after making assurances to the ladies. My brothers met me outside the building half an hour later. Demarco was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the previous night, and Devon looked as dapper as always in his pressed slacks and collared shirt.
They appeared through the fog as I leaned against the outside of the building, making sure that no one came sniffing too near while I’d waited for them.
“What you got us waking up at the crack of morning for, D?” Marco asked, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes.
I checked my timepiece and gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s afternoon now, Marco. Most of the day is gone.”
“I’ve been up since dawn,” Devon said.
Demarco snorted and waved a hand in dismissal.
“I need your help cleaning up a little mess,” I said, eager to get the deed done, the evidence expunged.
Despite the bags under his eyes from what was no doubt a late night, Demarco perked up a bit at this. “What kind of mess?” he asked.
I tapped my pockets with both hands, right over where they both knew the revolvers rested beneath.
“For Gods’ sake, Dita,” Devon mumbled, and I resisted the urge to snap that I had done it for him, that the bastard Ezra Ikers had summoned me threatening him in the first place.
But that was a conversation for later. A conversation even Demarco need not be present for.
“Spare me your judgment, brother,” I said flatly. “This needs taking care of now. I’ve got other matters to attend to.”
Devon scoffed. “Matters more urgent than this?”
I
met my older brother’s steady gaze. “Matters that cannot be postponed,” I replied.
Demarco grinned, his white teeth shining out of his light brown face. “Dita doesn’t like to get her hands dirty,” he teased.
“No,” said a familiar female voice behind me. “Just bloody.”
My two siblings and I turned to see Cora, who had appeared as silently as Vampires always seemed to do, as if she floated on air rather than walked on the earth’s surface. Cora eyed Devon and Demarco.
“I suppose this is the muscle?” she said.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart,” Demarco crooned.
I could feel Cora’s eyes snap to me, eager to see if I’d keep my promise to her about her body being her own.
I spoke into Demarco’s head in the telepathic manner we shared as Wolves. “Treat every person inside this building with absolute respect—the same respect with which you treat me, Marco. I mean it. Gods help you if I hear of you doing otherwise… And wipe the damn grin off your face. There’s a dead body inside, not a carnival.”
Slowly, the smirk slipped from Demarco’s lips, and his angular face grew serious. He gave me a nod of agreement, which Cora caught. I could tell from the way she raised her chin and studied me anew that she was impressed, though she did not admit it.
“Come on, then,” she said, waving my brothers inside.
Demarco followed after her, demur for once in his life.
Devon smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt and made to follow after, but I gripped his bicep to halt him. “I need you to pick up the girls today after lessons. I won’t be home in time to do it myself,” I said.
“Okay, no problem,” Devon replied, and moved as if to go inside.
I didn’t release my grip on his arm. “When I get home tonight,” I whispered, low enough that only he could hear me, “we need to have a talk.” I glanced toward the door through which Demarco and Cora had vanished. “Alone,” I added.
The apple in my older brother’s throat bobbed as his shoulders went a bit rigid. He was much bigger than me, over six feet tall, like our father, but the way he tensed at this made him seem somehow smaller.
Vulnerable.
Devon nodded, and I released him, jerking my chin in a silent order for him to head inside and help the others. I knew very well that it was not necessary to threaten Devon, as I had Demarco, to ensure he be respectful toward the ladies.
Gods help me for the bastard that I am, but I almost wished it was.
The slums that made up the rural areas surrounding Borden and other various towns throughout the Southern Territory were mostly divided up by race, remnants of an officially annulled apartheid that had carried over through the generations.
The Mound was where the poor Wolves and a handful of other various Shifters made their homes, and like the other slums, it was far enough away from any town’s borders (Borden being the closest) so as not to disturb the finer, more sophisticated people there. It was three quarters of an hour travel due east from the edge of The Mound to Borden on four legs, and an hour and a half on two.
Two hours travel to the west took one into the Vampire equivalent of The Mound, a dreadful, dead slice of land lovingly referred to as The Pit. If one headed north, after a half a day or so, they would reach the edge of the Fae Forest, a lush, green land with dangers as exotic as the beauties, where, if rumor was correct, none of the rules of the normal world applied.
But if one headed south out of Borden, and on four legs ran as fast as the wind could carry them, they would eventually reach the Murdock Mountains, where the elusive mountain cats made their home. Legends claimed that these mountains were cursed and unholy; a place people came when seeking certain death.
At the base of these mountains, hidden amongst tall evergreens, was a small population of magic users.
It was south that I headed after leaving my brothers to clean up the unfortunate situation at the cathouse. It would be a long run, and I wasted no time shifting into my Wolf form and getting on my way.
The sky grew gradually grayer as I left behind the squat brick structures of Borden and headed deeper into the heart of the Southern Territory. Once upon a time, hundreds of years before I was even thought of, war had ravaged this land. The soil itself had been nourished with the blood of various supernaturals, most of them casualties of a fight they wanted nothing to do with. Death had swept from coast to coast, blanketing the continent as Vampires and Wolves, Sorcerers and Demons had battled to claim pieces of the Territories for their own.
Afterward, the Territories had been divided up among the races with the idea that the only way to avoid more bloodshed was to segregate the people and the land.
This, of course, lead to massive inequality, and eventually, war erupted yet again.
The history was long enough that only the most scholarly among the races were aware of the extent of it, but I knew as much as any uneducated, poor Wolf could know, had heard the stories passed down through the ages, just like everyone else.
Now supernaturals of every race were permitted in all of the Territories, though most kept to their own out of choice or ignorance or circumstance or a combination of the three. Things were supposed to be better, now that there were no official borders, and there were reports that people on the coasts of the continent mingled and lived mostly amiably with one another. But, here, where the towns were landlocked and varying culture was limited, the past could not be so easily erased with a few symbolic proclamations from supernaturals in high places.
If anything, from my point of view, things for the people at the bottom had only gotten worse in recent years. The wealthy among us were growing wealthier, while the slums like The Mound were growing larger and larger.
This held true for the Vampires of The Pit and the magic users near the Murdock Mountains. Poverty, it would seem, was a disease contractible by any race, while wealth seemed reserved for a select few.
These thoughts accompanied me as I neared my destination. The Murdock Mountains grew larger with every step, their dark peaks thrusting toward the sky, obscured only by the clouds that were gathering overhead, the promise of coming rain obvious to my Wolf nose.
The land before it was rolling hills of lavender wheat, with clusters of trees and forking rivers. Once I reached the edge of the pine trees, however, I would be in the magic users’ region, and I’d heard many a tale about Wolves who had wandered too far from home and never returned again.
The lavender stalks were tall enough to conceal my Wolf form as I crept forward. Ahead, there appeared to be nothing but a barren spot of land at the feet of the Murdock Mountains, but I knew better than to trust what my eyes were revealing.
Or rather, not revealing.
I lowered my head a little, my ears flat and my tail tucked low, my shoulders bunched as I crept forward silently on the pads of my paws.
A flash of light had me spinning around as a voice spoke behind me.
“You’re a long way from home, little Wolf,” the voice said.
Chapter 8
My heart thundered in my chest as my lips pulled back over my sharp teeth and I let out a low growl.
There was an unimpressed sigh from the one who’d spoken.
“Down doggy,” Kyra said, as she stepped out from behind a large boulder that had likely broken off from the mountain itself and tumbled down here.
I growled once more at this address, and slipped into the lavender grasses so that I could shift into my mortal form.
Once I had, I returned to Kyra, who was now sitting atop the large boulder, legs crossed at the ankles as she toyed with a ball of flame hovering above her right hand. The purple fire danced between her fingers, weaving around them like something alive.
“Pretty sure that kind of magic is against the law, young lady,” I commented, straightening my jacket as I approached the Sorceress.
Kyra tipped her head in my direction, as if only noticing me for the first time, and snorted.
“Says the Wolf who has convinced me to peddle moonshine with her,” she replied. “Or did they end the prohibition while I was napping?”
I glanced around, my sensitive ears probing for any unwanted listeners, and shot Kyra a disapproving look.
“Relax, Dita,” Kyra said, hopping down off the boulder at last to stand eye to eye with me. “Don’t you ever smile?”
I only blinked at the girl. Kyra was strikingly pretty, with smooth, dark brown skin, big violet eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. Her hair was a black, curly cloud that she wore atop her head like a crown. Despite her life circumstances, Kyra was one of those people who just oozed happiness, energy, and ornery humor. I’d known the Sorceress since we were both children, after unfortunate circumstances had crossed our paths, and this was the way she had always been.
“Did you get the stuff?” I asked, deciding to ignore the question to which she knew the answer anyway.
Kyra eyed me, as if she could sense that I’d had a… rough morning. “Of course I did,” she answered. “Did you secure the workforce?”
I cleared my throat, sliding my hands into my pockets and leaning back on my heels a bit. “About that,” I said, then paused as I glanced around again, “we should go somewhere and chat.”
Kyra scowled, full lips pursing. “I hate when you say shit like that, D. It always means you’re about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.”
One side of my mouth tipped up in a half smirk. “You should beware the ones who do tell you what you want to hear,” I replied.
Kyra rolled her eyes but chuckled, and finally, pulled me into the hug I knew she would not neglect.