Lola had become a key player in this game of ours, a game that ended in life and death. What was even more entertaining, she was clueless about her true nature.
An anomaly; Half-werewolf, Half-vampire. Something such as her simply didn’t exist in our world. You were one of three: Human, Werewolf, Vampire.
There were plenty of Werewolves and Vampires mixed with Humans, but Human’s were a grey area. Werewolves had their mates, Vampire’s chose their own. Werewolves never mated with Vampires, it simply wasn’t fate.
Something had changed, gone wrong in the making of this wild-card. I was bloodthirsty, determined to find every facet of the truth. I started with Lola’s parents, digging up every lead I could.
All known records stated both parents as Werewolves. An interesting piece of evidence gave me insight to Lola’s parents. I had proof her Mother had given birth to her. It was quite easy to deduce from there. Her mother was unfaithful, coupling with a Vampire behind her husbands back. Thus produced, Lola.
It was a simple hunch that forced me to dig for the identity of Lola’s father. It was nearing impossible, as there were no records.
She had upped the odds in Alpha Asher Desmond’s favor, shifting the game. Lola was a factor I hadn’t anticipated, but I feverishly enjoyed. A wild-card, someone able to play for either team.
The Kings interest in her piqued my own, and I longed to learn the reason behind his well-placed façade. What was Lola to our King? His interest could easily be due to her heritage. The chance at having a mole on the inside was incredibly attractive. There were thousands of ways we could dispose of Alpha Asher Desmond with the help of Lola, the victory would be much too easy.
The King had me following Lola, learning her every move. He wanted to know the extent of her loyalty and the chance of it being swayed. The odds were not shifting in our favor. Her loyalty to her pack was strong, her ties to her family were unbreakable. And yet, everyone has a weakness. Everyone has a string to pull, one that can shift them entirely.
Another factor was thrown into the mix when I nearly walked in on a private conversation between the King and someone else. The voice was familiar, the nasal pattern unflattering.
I remained silent, forcing my ears to identify the muffled voice behind the thick door.
A name clicked in my mind; Brittany.
Just as the name registered, the door swung open. Brittany’s eyes widened as they looked over my impassive face. I kept my peaked curiosity hidden away, concealing it behind a mask.
The fear was painted all over her features, even as she struggled to maintain the illusion of normalcy. The King was behind her, his face trained on my own.
“Come inside.” The King ushered me in, sending Brittany away.
“I have confided in you on numerous occasions, have I not?” The King questioned, turning his head to meet my eyes. There was something dark lingering in his gaze, something I had seen numerous times.
“I am grateful to be trusted, my Lord.” I nodded, my voice even. “And will provide council when you see fit.”
The King paused, his eyes analyzing. Concealing myself was an art my family had taught since I could speak. You could never let someone know what you were thinking, what you were feeling.
“It seems, Brittany has a game of her own she wishes to play.” The King’s lips turned up in a cruel sneer. “I’ve accepted of course.”
I let interest flash in my eyes, and the King’s sneer widened.
“Ever the gambler.” The King noted, his voice amused.
“It is a skill of mine, my Lord.” I nodded, “I enjoy odds.”
“And it is your skill I wish to utilize.” The King smiled, but there was no friendliness, “Tell me, if Tyler and Brittany were to fight who do you think would win?”
The question caught me off guard for a split second, but I thought about it closely. Tyler Vail held a shield of arrogance around him, spewing bullsh*t about his birthright. Brittany was smart enough to fear us, to keep her eyes peeled at every moment. The glint in her eye was that of a wounded animal, one ready to lash out.
“Brittany.” I nodded, giving my answer. “I believe Brittany would win, my Lord.”
“Why?” The King grinned, as if he had already known my answer. “She’s a female, wouldn’t the male have better odds?”
“Not always, my Lord.” I kept my words clipped, “Female’s are often resourceful, working behind the scenes.”
“I do hope you are right.” The King grinned, “Another Alpha in the ground would only benefit us.”
“Why not just end his life, my Lord?” I bowed my head. Second-in-command gave me more leniency with my actions around the King. He did not mind questions, only if few and far between.
“You enjoy the odds.” The King smiled ruefully, “I enjoy the game.”
The King was planning something, something he would not reveal to me. Whatever the plan was, it was important.
Haze; A putrid smelling club, set with flashing lights and thundering music. I knew many others who would’ve thoroughly enjoyed this task, why I was chosen was beyond me. Tasked with watching after the wild-card.
My hatred for clubs and casino’s was almost humorous. My family owned many clubs and Casino’s in scattering cities, earning most of our money through those facets. Gambling was my forte, something I was incredibly talented at and yet I hated the process. My talent was for odds, determining who could win and what their chances were. My father would often send me to our Casino’s to rule out the ones willing to spend big money.
I would pull them aside, offer them a true gamble. Fortune, Power, Respect; If they won. The ultimate price if they didn’t; death. If they accepted, they were taken to the back rooms.
Turning a human into a Vampire was a grueling process that involved copious amounts of blood. Often, the human’s would perish painfully. Other times, the human would survive and endure the change. Those human’s who accepted, upon death all money, land, and titles would be handed over to us. If they survived, they were inducted into the service of the King.
We had been operating in the dark for hundred’s of years. Waiting for our moment to step into the light.
The job was easy enough. The club swarmed with many of her kind, but was just outside of Alpha Asher Desmond’s territory. He was powerless out here, and incredibly allusive as it seems.
It was known Alpha Asher Desmond would be at this club tonight; Strict orders were placed on us. He was not to know a single one of us were here. No engaging.
The night went on seamlessly. A waste of time, but necessary.
Tristan Volakis; first in command accompanied me to the night club. Tristan was the King’s closest confidant, the one he trusted when he could none other. Tristan and I were not close; As the few of us in the King’s inner circle refrain from building connections. Connections weakened the senses, dulled the mind.
It was clear Tristan was set on a personal task, one directly from the King. I kept my eyes peeled, yet revealed nothing. I contained my shock as Tristan approached Lola, my mind reeling at the possibilities.
The King was using Tristan, trying to find which string of Lola’s to pull. The string that would make her question her loyalty and which side she truly fought for.
A brief phone call dampened Tristan’s plans, as I approached him and Lola. She was swaying on her feet, her eyes misted over. Tristan said his goodbye’s and followed me from the club. There was a certain smugness in his step that couldn’t be ignored.
I lifted my eyebrow at Tristan, “You can get into her mind?” Another unanticipated factor.
“Didn’t even put up a fight.” Tristan murmured gleefully. “She’s completely untrained and unaware.”
“Did you learn anything?” I kept my tone tight, this was business.
“There is a chance.” Tristan nodded, his lips displaying a confident smirk. “She can be swayed.”
That night a few of our men ended another werewolf life. The death did not surprise me, as I had already expected this outcome. What interested me was the placement of the body. The King had personally requested this position, this location. The boy sat just outside of Lola’s bedroom, his dull eyes staring into her bedroom window.
Panic filled the pack, spreading like wildfire. Rumors spread, and I made it my business to hear them all. Many blamed Lola, as others noticed the peculiar position of the body.
A few days later the King called for me. I was to go back to the club, keep an eye on the wild-card. Tristan was along side of me for the second time, a new set of personal orders from the King.
We arrived twenty minutes after she did. Lola’s short stature was becoming easier to spot over the towering people. She trailed after Breyona, Mason at her side. The three of them were becoming quite inseparable. Watching during the daylight hours was impossible, but once night fell; the werewolves were fair game.
Tristan approached Lola, her eyes glazing over almost instantly. Tristan was very skilled when it came to entering someone’s mind; doing so subtly, decreasing the risk of panic. His victim’s never knew he entered their mind, dulling their thoughts.
My eyes remained glued to them, even as they climbed a set of stairs and headed towards the large balcony doors.
It was another little she-wolf that gained my attention.
Breyona; Taller than Lola, yet still shorter than I. Brown hair cropped short, wide knowing eyes.
My loyalty to my King had never been questioned; not once in the short life I have lived.
I could’ve never considered the odds, the impossibility of this happening.