Wolves and Men

There were many predators in the world. They ran and hunted, lay traps and waited, they came in two and four and eight legs, and sometimes no legs at all. They existed in all climates from the harshest desert, to the coldest frozen wastelands. They circled over the helpless or killed silently from cover. They wore fur, or scales, some used light as a lure, while others used their prey’s own pheromones against them. Some let their prey wear themselves out and ate at their leisure, while others needed allies and friends to bring down the big game. Predators were always hunting, always learning, and expanding their territory as their strength grew.

Kenneth was no different.

It had been a little over a year since that first night with that wolf who had somehow thwarted his efforts, and Kenneth had managed to avoid all signs of insolence from his Head of House, Alessandro. The older vampire had his suspicions, but Kenneth had been growing his power base, little by little, now Alessandro could question all he wanted. He still needed to be careful though, Alessandro could call every House down on his head at any moment, but his allies within the House kept him ahead of his master’s inquisitions and reasonably safe from judgment.

He was sitting in his study, behind his massive oak desk. There he still carefully kept his dual copies of all his record books. He had seen a steady rise in profit the past year from his clubs, dancers turned blackmail artists, and his drug and arms dealing. And his farms were turning in a healthy profit as well.

Human trafficking had been in a boom for the last two decades. Especially since his clients would pay extra for girls and boys to go willingly to their new “employers’ without the whole mess of incarceration and chains. The Chinese cartels paid him close to a million dollars per boat load which he could fill quietly in six months to a year. Business was so much easier for all concerned when the slaves weren’t trying to escape or call authorities. And the bonus was that the families weren’t looking for them either, thanks to a few well placed phone calls and instructions from him on what to say.

There was surprisingly little progress from Advanced Cell Technologies. He had been monitoring Trevor very closely for the past year but after a few months the scientist seemed adjusted to his role and his research had continued. However, there was little production on the project that he had set the young man on, and no amount of threatening or rewards have seemed to change that progress, for good or bad. Maybe it was time to pull the plug on his funding from the company and cut Trevor loose. He had not proven himself, one way or the other and he did so hate to admit defeat, maybe a few more months?

He looked down at another report from Joshua. His vampire eyes read the hastily scribbled note on top of a typed report. He couldn’t stand to wait so he had instructed the idiot to write down everything he could, as fast as he could then to call Susan, his personal IT assistant, and have her type up a full report from his ramblings. Susan was always prompt and made sure that the original scribbles from Joshua was always on his desk with an email that she would send to Natalia, who would print it out for him.

The rage boiled in his mind so quickly his arms were flung wide and his books and folders were scattered to the wind before he could see straight again.

Another one of the farms had been hit and destroyed! That would make the second one this month and it was only the second week of August!

The werewolves were trying his patience. Over the last year the attacks had become increasingly more regular and more devastating. He had lost, and rebuilt, over two dozen farms in that time period. Five of his clubs had been burned to the ground and more and more of his ‘seeker’ teams had been thwarted, losing more and more werewolves before they had been reborn as werewolves. The strangle hold that House Dukart, and the other two Houses who shared this territory, had put on the werewolves for the last fifty years or so was beginning to wane.

He threw himself back into his chair. He filled his dead lungs with air and let it sit and fester there as he forced his mind back over the past dozen years. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander back through time

Everything had been going according to his design. He had planned every aspect of it. He had started from nothing with only an off handed permission from Alessandro to find his own way in this strange land of America. He had gone away from his master with a clear goal and path alight with vengeance and fortune ahead of him.

He had started small with a single dancer here, a strong bouncer there, until he had a small empire of the underground ready to fight and die for him at his command. It had all seemed so easy, even the far-seeing eyes of Alessandro were blind to his machinations.

His eyes shot open. The one failure he had to endure over that stretch of time, that one person who managed to elude his grasp. That filthy immature child of a man who had, through some unknown, blind, divine providence, somehow managed to eluded his capture. In all that time he was the only one to ever do so. William Setford.

He quickly searched his memory from all the time from then to now. That bitch who was still rotting in his basement, his slow but steadily increasing growing power and number of devoted servants, everything that had happened, William was the lynch pin to all those events, both good and bad.

His mind turned to Ansuya, that once beautiful woman, so regal in her stature, and so long lasting in her defiance. She was his trophy now, nothing more. He took no pleasure from her, and she took none of his energy. She just sat there. And if nothing else, the werewolves were without their queen. His lip curled into an ugly snarl. But a side without its queen was still dangerous it would seem.

He would have to rebuild that lost farm as he had done two dozen times now. There was always work to do.