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“Yeah, that’s what I want to think about. Dad being neck-deep in pussy.” I shoot him a look that makes him snicker. “And I’m sure you’re right, and I’m sure he was just as aware of all that willing wolf pussy back at the hall. He knew how the night would go if we went to those parties you are talking about. Like we need a bunch of guys up our asses because we stole their females.”
“Because it would be our fault?” I can only sigh. It’s not like I don’t want to get laid. But no matter how anxious I am to bury my nose in fresh pussy, what matters most is the pack. Keeping the peace. We’re supposed to be uniting over the next several days, not tearing each other apart because of a little ill-advised fucking.
We didn’t spend nearly as much time talking as I expected, thanks to the follow-up meeting Daniel scheduled. Since there was such a deep interest in our experience fighting, he thought it would be better to postpone things, considering so many of us only arrived with hardly enough time to make it to the ceremony and hadn’t gotten the chance to settle in yet.
I’m still grateful for that. For some reason, all the questions hitting me at once irritated the shit out of me to the point where I had a hard time concentrating. There are a lot of bloodthirsty wolves in this pack, chomping at the bit, raring to fight. I couldn’t help but see the row of sheet-covered bodies while I answered their questions about whether they needed additional training and if we were allowing members from other packs to cross our borders to fight.
The wind shifts around the time we reach the front door of the large house reserved for our family. Forrest stops with his hand on the doorknob, and a heartbeat afterward, he lifts his head and sniffs the air, and I soon know why since the scent reaches me, too.
“I smell blood,” he murmurs with an edge to his voice. His wolf is close to the surface now that he’s been roused by something even more potent than sex. “A lot of blood.”
He’s off the porch of the old Victorian-style home before I can react. “Where are you going?”
“To see where it’s coming from.” He doesn’t invite me to come along, but then I have nothing better to do, and I would like to know where it’s coming from, myself. I don’t know why that little silver-haired wolf flashes at the front of my mind, but she does, and for some reason, I can’t help but wonder if it’s her blood on the wind. With the way those other wolves were looking at her and talking about her, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“So, what do you think about them?” Forrest asks as we walk the quiet streets, following the scent.
“Which ones?”
“Any of them,” he grunts, shrugging. “Take your pick.”
“I think they’re all in for a big surprise once the fighting really begins. Did you hear some of them back there? It’s like they think this is some war movie the humans dreamed up.”
“No, even the humans know not to fuck around with the sort of shit we’re up against.” He has a good point. But then, humans are far weaker and fragile; they know they don’t stand a chance, just like their ancestors didn’t stand a chance during the uprising.
It happened before we were born and probably before many humans living today were born, but there are still aftershocks rippling through their world. Decades later, long after the last of the reanimated corpses controlled by the necromancers committed their atrocities, humans still take precautions. Like the silver crosses they wear, even the ones who don’t follow a religion. There is a reason so many human cities use UV lights at night and have enforced curfews to keep their citizens safely indoors.
I hope those lights work if we aren’t successful in stomping out this latest threat. I wonder if they’re aware, those humans, of how close we are to going through it all over again.
“Can you imagine if it happens again?” Forrest muses when we come to a stop, the two of us sniffing the air at a crosswalk and heading left. “How much different would it be today than it was back then?”
“People would be prepared a little better, I guess. They’d, you know, have a warning of attacks nearby. Not like back in the day when people weren’t as connected.”
“That’s true.” His surprised laughter rings out. “How long do you think it would be before there’s something up on social media, like one of them live-streaming themselves getting massacred?”
“Trying to take selfies with a vampire. What hashtag would they use?” Now we’re both laughing because I can almost imagine it happening. Humans are so blind to the truth of their world and to what goes on outside their immediate circle. They have no idea what makes the world turn and who keeps them safe at night.
