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Wolf Club

The skinshifters were always difficult.

The wolves were, of course, the most common, but every now and then someone took differently to the bite and a bird or some other beast filled the skin of a human.

They had a pack system set up that was, for lack of a better word, somewhat inefficient. They made the human gangs look reasonable and organized.

And the territory disputes were always a problem.

Fortunately, like most other Others, they took staying out of human notice fairly seriously, and Helena didn’t pay them much mind, all things considered.

It was always a pain to have to deal with them, but there were enough pack-leaders that, when the need was dire, they could be reasoned with.

Helena hated that, since she was the one to bring the matter before the council, she also got to be the one to deal with the wolves.

Owen came with her for reasons of his own.

“This is a Wolf club,” he noted as her driver pulled up in front of the thundering nightclub, this time driving a sleek, but subtle black car, rather than Helena’s limo. “You sure you want to walk in there?”

“The Shifters have the next biggest community after us,” Helena said. She hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion, dresses simply in black slacks and a glowing silk blouse that matched her crimson lipstick. “Ivan rules the largest of the packs, and carries a great deal of respect among the other Packs. If he joins us, so will the others.”

“Don’t werewolves and vampires hate each other?”

“You watch too many movies. No, we don’t, but there are always tensions between the Covens and the Packs.”

It would be better if Ekaterina was doing this. She and Ivan were from the same part of the world and shared a mother tongue.

The bouncer held back throngs of clamoring people, and stank of Wolf. When Helena strode up to him, Owen in her wake, he eyed them both, but lifted the red velvet rope without a word.

“He’s just letting us in?” Owen wondered, and no surprise. He had never seen this part of the Other community before. At least, not from the inside. “Does he know you?”

Helena let herself smile in remembrance even as she led him around the dance floor to the VIP booths. “The last time I was here, he caused me some difficulty, and I put him through a wall.”

“Seriously?”

“He was very rude.”

“Und Soviet Russia, Wolves wear you for a fur coat.”

Ivan was a huge man, even without shifting. Helena turned to see the burly man clad all in black biker leather with a grin that showed his true nature. Half of the dancers showed signs of shifting, but Ivan didn’t need to.

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‘Alpha’ radiated off him in waves. Here was no wonder why he held the head of the biggest pack in the city. Rumor had it that he won his last challenge without shifting at all.

Helena admired control, and disliked Ivan thoroughly.

“Hello Ivan,” Helena said, and glared when it was clear his attention was elsewhere. Perhaps on an issue with his pack. It was the only thing that Ivan took seriously. “How have you been?”

“Living good life,” Ivan sprawled across from them in the booth and took up one of the couches by himself. “Making money, eating food, finding pretty ladies to-“

“I already know your predilections,” Helena held up a hand to keep him from telling her the gory details. He would, if she let him. In graphic detail. “I do not wish to hear about your conquests.”

“Why not? They are many,” Ivan smiled and showed all his teeth even as a server appeared. “Get me vodka. If I have to talk to a vampire, I am not being sober.”

“There is a Hunter army forming,” Helena told him, and resigned herself to a few shots of Russian vodka. There was no negotiation with Ivan without it. “They mean to wipe the city clean of Others.”

“Which ones?”

“All of us.”

That made Ivan stop and look her over seriously. “How good is intel?”

“Would I be here without good intel?” It was no secret that she hated the club, but there wasn’t anywhere else to meet with Ivan. He made a spectacle of himself if she tried to take him somewhere civilized.

That made him laugh so hard he nearly rolled from the couch. “Suppose you wouldn’t. Ah, Vodka!”

The bottle appeared with three shot glasses. The server disappeared back the way she came and was gone into the Fog and strobes before Helena could get a good look at her.

Clearly the wolves knew their leader well. Vodka and privacy. At least with the booming music, it would be hard for anyone to overhear them.

Helena accepted the first three shots with grace, because that was needed when talking with a bad-tempered, prickly Russian werewolf. The fourth she sipped, and Ivan laughed at her.

Owen met his eyes and took his with a smile that somehow seemed more dangerous than the spelled gun under his coat. Ivan looked him over, suddenly far more interested.

“You a pet?” He asked rudely, and Helena bit off a sigh. “You do not have smell.”

“An ally,” Helena said before Owen could reply. Ivan would probably think he was funny, but the wolf might also kill him, and that would be inconvenient. “The one who brought word of the impending danger.”

“Impending danger,” Ivan mocked her and took another shot. He hauled himself to his feet and waved them back down. “Stay. Enjoy club. I am finding out if you are telling me the truth.”

With that he disappeared up a set of quietly subtle stairs that led up to the private booths reserved only for ranking wolves of his pack and for Ivan himself.

“Is he going to help?” Owen wondered, taking his vodka more carefully now that he wasn’t matching Ivan shot for shot. “That was… abrupt.”

“He will,” Helena told him and sighed. “He just wants to make me uncomfortable. He knows I dislike coming here.”

She was old enough to find this sort of club somewhat vulgar, and the music was far too loud for her sensitive ears.

“Dance with me,” Owen said suddenly and stood. He smelled of vodka, but seemed steady on his feet. He saw her incredulity and cocked a grin. “Seriously. If he’s trying to make you uncomfortable, this is the best way to prove him wrong.”

“You can’t be serious,” Helena said, but as she said it, the music turned to something darker and slower. “That is entirely incorrect.”

“You want to prove a point to Ivan?” Owen leaned over and pulled her to her feet before flicking his gaze upwards towards the balconies. “He’s watching to see what you do.”

She knew that, and had been watching the wolf out of the corner of her eye since he appeared. Damn t all, Owen was probably right, no matter her own thoughts on the matter.

“Alright Hunter,” she said, and watched him brighten. He smelled like gun oil and controlled interest as she stepped into his space. “Show me how you dance.”