Chapter 42: Meeting Of The Wolves
--- Red Wolf ---
“Looks like things are getting started.” She whispered, as Fredrick -the closest thing she had to a grandpa- walked out of the elevator, the old man still having a fair bit of meat and muscle to him in spite of being in seventies.
From beside her ‘White’ as he liked to be called at these meetings -a habit she’d picked up with her own ‘Red’- nodded. “Seems like.”
Black the third member of their color trio nodded too but didn’t actually say anything. The more serious man knowing that regardless of how large this room was, everyone could hear everything everyone else said given how everyone in the room liked to howl at the moon at night.
The old man gave everyone in the room a once over, and she couldn’t help but follow his gaze with her attention.
Bruce Brutale, as a lot of the younger wolves called him, was a muscular man with tattoos up and down his arms who did absolutely nothing to dissuade anyone that saw him with them from thinking they were a gang. (Which we are, but you could at least try to be subtle about it.)
Admittedly he was also in charge of a lot of the more ‘hot’ jobs around the city. Odds were that if they needed someone to do something blatantly illegal and risky then it was going to be one of his who did it.
Next to him -and splitting drinks between them- was an asian man in a business suit. Bolin admittedly wasn’t the most physically active of their group, not actually having a title within the pack despite the fact that he was both their primary lawyer and a decent candidate for becoming the county DA.
Of course given how frequently the two worked together there was little wonder why the two were so close, in fact when Black was added to the trio due to his financial contributions the were collectively known as the three Big Bad B’s by the grunts who knew who they all were. With many people assuming that Bolin was as good in a fight as both Bruce and Black given how often they were seen together.
That rumor alone proved how unobservant the rest of her generation was at keeping track of the pack dynamics. (Bruce is good in a mundane fight, and decent in a Deviant fight but he’s nowhere near Black or White, and Bolin would probably have to turn to win even a mundane fight.)
Across from those two were Marinette Howlette, a thin black woman in a pale dress and Tracy Wells, a tired white woman who apparently hadn’t had the time to change out of her medical scrubs.
If Bruce and Bolin represented the more mundane side of their group than these two represented the more mystical side of things, with Monsterous Mary being an old terror from the Riots and probably the previous generations version of Red herself. Well Wishes Wells on the other hand was a saint operating a free clinic the pack ran while also being their main doctor should they take any hits their wolven sides couldn’t walk off.
(Honestly, as badass as they are I probably would’ve considered them my ‘female role models’ if they weren’t so insistent on me learning my magical potential.)
All wolves were born with magic, granting them the power of the wolf passed down parent to child for generations, but while the wolf part of it was inherently tied to their instincts the magic that the two women liked to throw around were less so. And while learning to at least tap into that power was a necessity to become more than grunt within the pack, she didn’t care to make it the core of who she was. Especially given how she’d gotten some of that magic from the bastard.
“Good, everyone is here and no one is trying to kill anyone else.” Old man Fred nodded, as his eye fell on her trio.
“Yet.” White chimed in, asshole that he is. “Keep us here long enough and that’ll probably change.”
“Probably.” Fred admitted, with a wry grin and a shake of his head. “Especially once we get talking about what I’ve called you all here for.”
“The crack in the sky right?” Bruce asked.
“In part.” Fred answered, before looking around the room. “Though, before anything else I want to check in with everyone and see if there are any major hiccups caused by this mess. Bolin, since your field is the most likely to ripple out, why don’t you kick us off?”
“Honestly, they’re barely keeping it together.” Bolin sighed. “Most officials are trying to maintain a ‘keep calm and carry on’ mentality about this, while diverting any problem that crops up towards Sanctuary. Can’t get much word on what they’re up to, but the fact that we haven’t seen any reinforcements on their front means everyone is probably holding up in case this is the start of another Rift Riot.”
“It’s not.” White cut in, drawing all eyes to him.
“And how do you know that?” Marinette frowned. “The cracks are flooding the city in Deviant energies; any magic user worth their salt can sense that.”
“True, but I’ve checked the hot spots around the city and talked with a few of the older dogs like Hendrickson. They’re output is up but stable. All the Bleeds that’ve popped were always there, they just lacked the power to actually bridge the void. Can’t even tell the ones that were open have changed without digging deep.” White explained, looking more at Fredrick than Marinette. “Also, went ahead and took a look outside of the city. Get far enough from the Cracks and the energy dies down fast. The tides are swirling here, but everywhere else the seas are stable.”
“Any idea what butterfly set this storm off?” Fredrick asked, eyes narrowed.
White shook his head. “Wasn’t any of my usual suspects, and I don’t have a head for magic outside my affinities, but might still be able to point the chicas in the right direction if I take a walk on the other side.”
Marinette looked intrigued, but Fredrick and Black both grimaced and she was right with them knowing what ‘a walk on the other side’ meant for someone with an affinity for [Death] magic. (Yeah, I’ll vote against it if it comes down to it.)
White was laid back enough and would let things ride if no one asked for his help, so hopefully between her, Black, and the old man he wouldn’t be curious enough to try it for himself.
“We’ll wait until we’ve heard what they’ve found to make that call.” Fredrick decided, before turning back to Bolin. “Anything on the police side of things we need to work on?”
“Most of them are just trying to keep things stable. Patrols are on orders to report anything suspicious to Sanctuary, but they’re mostly just security theater right now.” Bolin shrugged. “The police Chief is doing something with his people but I think it’s just politics. He and the Mayor have been on the outs for a minute, he’s trying to make a few too many pushes against us and the leeches.”
The room was filled with growls at that as seven werewolves were reminded of the uneasy three way truce they had with the vampires and the city.
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“Right, keep an eye on him.” Fredrick ordered, before giving everyone a stern look. “As much as I hate them, our feud with the leeches is between us and them. No matter how easy it makes things, there’s no need to drag innocents into it, even if they are cops. We’re better than the parasites so let’s keep to it.”
Everyone gave begrudging nods to that before Fredrick motioned towards Tracy. “How are the civilians taking things?”
“They’re scared, and a lot of people were injured during the initial event but things seem to be calming down for the most part.” Tracy answered, before glancing towards Black. “Though with how heavy we were hit, and the likelihood of how long this’ll drag out we might want to stock up on supplies for the long run. There might not be any overt incidents but we all know things are still rough on the Deviant side, and there’s no telling what we might get dragged into.”
Black pulled out one of his notebooks and marked something down. “I’ll budget it in. With the stress everyone is under, they’re all spending more on partying meaning there’s a surplus there we can easily divert your way.”
(Yeah, too bad the wolves my age are in that group.) She’d come across a few too many that had been doing their own supply. (Need to check in with Bruce there, it’s not my job but he’ll probably want to know to make sure they don’t fall off.)
“Good, we take care of our territory and the people in it.” Fredrick told them both with a nod of approval, before turning towards Bruce. “Speaking of, how are things on the street level?”
“Well, like Black said, people are stressed, and they don’t just party when they’re stressed. My boys have had to deal with more than one incident that would’ve brought the cops a little too close to home, and Bolin ‘s complained enough about them that I’m not going to risk it.”
“Safer to be smart.” The old man agreed. “What about the leeches? Between William and Pierce, it’s a split on whether they’d hold up their own defenses or try pressing our own.”
“Honestly, I had my guys give a few… pokes.” Bruce admitted, scratching at his throat. “Nothing to outright escalate -I may have wolf’s blood, but I’m not stupid- just poked enough to get them to hiss and strut to ward us off. No response. Couple of the safehouses we’ve been keeping eyes on even seem abandoned.”
“So they’re holding up.” Fredrick nodded. “Good to know.”
“Should we press the opening?” Marinette cut in. “Even if their guard is up, they’re probably holding up in that hotel of theirs. Odds are we could pick off some of their outer bases and cut them off with little defense, especially with the cell towers down making reinforcements harder. Given how more… advanced their general level of magic is, I’d rather not risk them attempting some ritual while gathered together. Something that my recent inquiries with the city’s practitioners deem more than likely, given whatever artifact Covenant smuggled in for them.”
“Any idea what they brought in?” White frowned, his own job dealing with any supernatural messes within the city that risked spilling onto the civilians. “Something I’ll need to step into?”
Marinette considered it for a moment. “Unlikely, while Covenant prides itself on secrecy and discretion, they were willing to admit that the artifact was within their ‘safe sell’ parameters for a Necromancy artifact. Which while not reassuring on a personal level, means that it isn’t a city wide threat at least.”
“¿Qué pasa con toda la necromancia en esta ciudad?” White grumbled, before giving Marinette a nod. “Let me know if you start seeing anything extraño out there. The last thing we need is one of them figuring out that necromancia is a work-around to the summoning limiter.”
“Is it?” Tracy wondered.
(Would’ve expected that question from Marinette.)
White shook his head. “More for them than us. [Blood] and [Night] have a little more wiggle room than [Change] and [Wolf] unless you’re willing to summon something you really shouldn’t. It’s why I have to… deal with so many curious vamps on my end. On the other hand the best we’d get are a bunch of undead wolves, and the worst, well… death would be a mercy.”
A chill ran down everyone’s spines at that last bit and the power behind the words. (Forget he can do that sometimes.)
Fredrick coughed, drawing attention back to himself. “Regardless, we were talking about pressing the advantage against the leeches.” The old man’s eyes fell on Red. “Thoughts?”
While Bruce was in charge of ‘the streets’ keeping an eye on the general state of crime and the leeches, his job mostly revolved around keeping a leash on things and keeping any other groups from growing too big. A mostly defensive position, when the others didn’t need muscle for something.
Her job on the other hand was to actually press the offensive. It was technically a job that all of the other wolves in the room had taken at one point or another, and was meant as a way of getting their feet wet with greater leadership while also making sure whatever they thought most important for the war with the Vamps was added to their pack.
Fredrick had formed the pack as a place for the city’s wolves to gather and protect each other. Bolin and Bruce had set out to control the crime and law of the pack’s territory respectively. Black had figured out how to bankroll everything while respecting the other B’s. Marinette had figured out they were falling behind in a magical arms race. While Tracy had figured out things were escalating beyond their natural abilities and they needed better healing. And White -after the Rift Riots- had decided that things were spilling too much onto civilians and reinforced the Masquerade.
She was still figuring out what they needed, mostly trying to keep from dragging too much of the pack into her own little vendettas, but on this, “Much as I hate to say it, with the way the city is going we’ve got too much on our plate to prioritize the leeches. Every time I go out to try and get a read on them, I get drawn off dealing with all of the Creeps lurking around or avoiding Sanctuary’s patrols. It almost seems like the things are actively looking for me half the time.”
“They might be…” White said, seemingly considering something.
“What?” She frowned, eyeing her mentor.
“Anyone else have any issues with the Creeps when they’re out and about at night?” White asked the room.
“I don’t think there’s anyone in the room who hasn’t killed at least one Creep over these past few weeks.” Bolin pointed out.
“No, no. He might be onto something.” Marinette admitted, gaining a thoughtful look of her own. “Numbers please? But only the ones after the initial event please.”
“Um, three?” Bolin shrugged, while looking confused.
(Well, he’s probably just avoiding a fight.)
Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “Probably a dozen on my own, and maybe a dozen more with my boys? Wasn’t keeping a hard count really.”
(Still a bit low, but reasonable if he’s mostly managing things.)
Marinette looked at Tracy next to her, prompting the doctor to answer, “About two dozen like Bruce. Though I only fight them when they get too close to my clinic at night.”
(Yeah, she probably goes out as much as Bruce so that makes sense.)
“Fifty-three.” Black threw out with narrowed eyes. “They go after me every night I leave the club.”
She knew Black was a badass, if a bookish one, but that was still more than her. “Mid-forties.”
“Sixty-seven.” Fredrick added his own number, reminding them there was a reason he was the alpha of their group. “And I’m mostly just keeping my neighborhood clear.”
Marinette met White’s eyes and they both nodded. “That confirms it.”
“Confirms what?” She wondered.
“It’s not unheard of for Creeps to actively seek out prey fitting specific criteria, such as those who are scared, weak, injured, or even killers.” White explained.
“And based on what Bruce said, as well as reports from my own people, and the numbers all of you have given us… the Creeps seem to be actively hunting… us.” Marinette explained looking distinctly uncomfortable.
That got some alarmed looks, though Fredrick quickly took control. “How likely is this?”
“Given these numbers as well as the low civilian count, high.” Marinette shrugged.
“And they’re just hunting wolves?” Fredrick growled, eyes flashing gold.
“Heard some words from some Hunter friends running into Creeps, but thought that was just the job.” White answered, leaning forward in his seat. “They’re probably hunting anyone with above average magic, more magia means more… whatever they’re after. Meaning it’s not just us, it’s every Wolf, Arcane, Vamp, and anyone else with a lick of magia in their blood.”
Tracy tapped her nails against the arm of her rest as she bit her lip before saying, “I’ve… noticed something weird. There have been a lot of new Arcane this month, at first I thought it was just danger breeds power but…” The medical practitioner shook her head. “Between the cracks flooding the city in magic, and just this city, creeps hunting magic users, and those new magic users popping up…”
They all considered that for a moment, each of them coming to their own conclusions until someone aptly summed it up with a vocal, “Well… fuck.”