Chapter 30
We arrived at the Lumberyard precisely at seven and were stopped at the entrance to the parking lot by what had to be a Werewolf in a black uniform sporting a wicked looking pistol strapped to the side of his right thigh. He held his hand up to indicate we should halt which we did because of said firearm, he glanced inside the truck, took one look at George and Phillip, lingered on the lovely ladies and glanced right past me.
“LeTorque?” he asked.
“Yes, Benjamin, you know it’s us” replied George.
“You smell different, George” he said.
“Yeah, well you smell like…”
“George!” snapped Vivian.
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Oh, never mind… Benjamin!”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Let us through.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
We drove into the enormous parking lot and pulled into one of the spaces available. The lot was filled with the most amazing array of vehicles ranging in size from large to enormous which I was drooling over because not one of them could’ve cost less than sixty grand. We got out and I ogled.
“Is that a…?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But it’s got a…?”
“Uh-huh.”
It was a military style Hum-Vee, completely black, sitting about five feet off the ground on a set of the meanest looking tires you’ve ever seen and mounted on top was a machine gun.
“Is that even legal?”
“It is for them” said Phillip.
“Who are they?”
“Betas from Security Tribe.”
“Betas?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But I thought…”
“Thought what?” asked Phillip.
“I guess I thought Betas would be loners; you know, biding their time to catch a Vampire or fighting in some ring somewhere to find their hierarchy or something?”
“Nope, we Wolves fight early to determine hierarchy. Afterward, if we aren’t chosen as a mate, we get on with our lives until we are.”
“Huh. Well I guess it makes sense. So, do you have to choose a tribe?”
“No, you can go it alone but it’s a pretty risky proposition” he replied.
“Why?”
“Well, we’re tribal in nature. Once we pick a tribe we become loyal to it. You see, we need to fight, it’s in our genetic make-up to do so and a tribe allows us the opportunity to refine the instinct.”
“Huh?”
“We get to fight other members of other tribes. We can fight them in single combat or in groups so it gives us the best of both possible worlds” he said in all seriousness.
“So if a Beta doesn’t pick a tribe?”
“He usually loses his head.”
“Oh. Hey! Is that…?”
“Uh-huh.”
Green Alien from Heaven, Detective Nat Hallowed.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey, Nat” we all said in sing-song harmony. Okay, it wasn’t really sin-song and I was the only one who said ‘Hey’ but it would’ve been cool if we did, then we could practice other chorus jingles, record an album and off we’d go to the glorious skyscraper in the sky filled with lemon drops and soda pops; a place we in the biz like to call Nashville, or Hollywood, or wherever it is one goes to become a recording superstar making tons of cash and promoting their own clothing line. By the way, what is that?
WHAT IS WHAT?
Isn’t making obscene amounts of money and being worldly famous enough for those people?
OH, THAT.
And why do we buy what they’re selling?
BECAUSE IT LOOKS GOOD?
Do we really think some thirty-year-old pop singer actually had the time to go to clothing school between world tours?
OH, YEAH, PROBABLY NOT.
“Hey, Johnny?”
“Yes, Nat?”
“I need a few private moments with these four here. Do you think you could wait in my truck while I talk to them?”
“I guess so” I said looking and receiving their assent.
I moved through the parking lot towards Nat’s giant police truck which became obvious once I got past the other vehicles which had been blocking it’s view since it was the only one not colored some form of black. I got to the passenger side of the vehicle and was about to open the door when I felt a breath of wind hit the back of my neck which for some reason startled me so it turned and saw…
“Steve…”
… Steve, Zombie salesman of Industrial Products standing behind me.
“Aaah!” is what I think I replied because he startled me and by then he had horrible breath.
“Steve…” I began.
“Steve…”
“… don’t sneak up on people!” I ended.
He didn’t reply, of course, because he was still doing his whole aloof-Zombie thing so I turned back around to open the door when I felt another, slighter hint of a breathe on my neck so I again turned back around, this time a little peeved because diaper-Zombie-boy couldn’t follow even the simplest of instructions and saw…
“Grrrr.”
… a seven foot Werewolf holding Steve two feet off the ground by the collar of his blue sports coat.
The monster in question was dressed the same as Benjamin, Beta Security Wolf, and he had the same intimidating presence all seven-foot, two-hundred-fifty pound plus individuals possess which was one of incredible arrogance and complete faith they could do as they pleased because, well, what were you going to do about it?
I’D RIP HIS HEAD OFF.
In my case I was going to do nothing; just stand there and say a silent prayer to as many Gods as I could recall. When it comes to my ultimate demise I’ve found I like to hedge my bet, so to speak. Now, down in the South they trend toward Jesus as the Savior so the first prayer always goes to him but, after that, all bets are off. I will pray to any and every God my memory banks can pull up in a time of stress and I guess it’s a matter of faith or lack thereof for the reason why. It’s not a lack of faith in God per se, no, it’s a lack of faith in the sources dictating which God is the correct God. I believe there’s a starting point to everything so I naturally believe in a being, entity or divine spirit responsible for the original beginning but I find it difficult to overcome my doubts as to the irrefutable knowledge some espouse as to what the entity looks like and demands of us. Why do I doubt their sincerity?
BECAUSE YOU DON’T TRUST ANYBODY.
Because anyone claiming to have spoken to God in today’s world would immediately be locked in the loony bin. Not those who claim to hear God, they’re usually harmless. No, the ones who claim God literally showed himself and gave them information they should write down and pass on to others. It seems if our natural inclination is to disavow these people then why would we believe those whom we never met?
BECAUSE IT’S EASIER TO BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE RIGHTEOUS IF YOU CAN’T SEE THEIR FLAWS.
Maybe they were even loonier than the ones we have today?
IT’S POSSIBLE.
And I have one more slight worry which gives me more pause. What if the other belief is the correct one?
WHAT OTHER BELIEF?
The one where animals are sacred. What if we get to Nirvana and instead of a saintly Angel we’re, instead, greeted by a cow?
OH, THAT ONE.
Or a chicken, or a fish, or whatever other creature we’ve been stuffing down our maw for the past thousand years or so. What are we going to do then?
“Moo!”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but, you see…”
“Moo!”
“Yeah, I hear you, but I just didn’t believe them when they said…”
“Moo!”
“Oh, forget about it. Where’s that Purgatory place I keep hearing about?”
So there I stood, stock still, as a Security Wolf confronted me while holding my Zombie, a Zombie with a stupid grin on his face, a Zombie with half a
suit and diapers residing happily in the clutches of the enormous beast.
“Who are you?” he growled.
“Oh… um… Hi, I’m Johnny Johnson, nice to meet you” I said as I held out my hand.
“What are you doing here?” he said while ignoring my hand.
“I’m here to see the Judgment” I replied which was exactly the wrong reply because he tossed Stevie-boy about fifty-feet away and turned to rip my head off when…
“Stop!”
… Nat showed up.
The Werewolf spun around to confront the Alien who dared tell him to do anything and I stood there in complete terror as I waited to see the Wolf tear apart my green-skinned friend when a weird thing happened.
“Oh, hello, Detective” the Wolf replied.
“Hello, Butch” the detective responded.
“Is he with you?” the Wolf asked.
“Yes, Butch, he is.”
“He says he’s here to see the Judgment” the Wolf said and something in Nat face registered what I said was the wrong thing to say.
“Um, well yes, Butch, he is here to see the Judgment.”
“Only Superiors are allowed; you know that, Detective.”
“Yes, true, but in this particular case the young man is a…”
“I’m a ….”
I started to say I was indeed a Superior, a Cloak in fact, when two things happened simultaneously. First, Nat’s eyes widened in the way which gave the instant impression I was about to sign my death warrant and the second was I recalled something Trudy said a couple of days before.
“You’re a what?” the Wolf growled.
“I’m a…” I stammered.
“He’s a Zombie, Butch” Nat finished.
“Really? He doesn’t look like a Zombie?” the Wolf said as he eyed me even closer.
“He just turned. Go ahead and cut him if you like.”
“Now hold on a sec…”
The Wolf sliced me so fast two more things happened in such rapid succession my life was spared because of their speed. First, I never saw him produce the knife which sliced my right bicep to the bone, a slice so fast and deep I didn’t have time to comprehend it, a slice so deep the nerves located near the surface were severed so fast the pain had little opportunity to reach my brain before…
“Huh? I guess you’re right. Sorry about that, Detective.”
… my body started to heal the wound.
“That’s okay, Butch, you’re just doing your job” Nat replied.
“Yeah, so what’s he here for?” Butch asked.
“He’s here to act as a witness in the Judgment.”
“Okay, but you know he can’t enter until the Clan Elders call for him?”
“Yes, I know, Butch. He’ll be right here with me in my truck until they do.”
“Okay, Nat” the Wolf said as he began to move off.
“Good night, Butch” Nat replied.
“Oh my God! I’m going to die! I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this. How could I not have remembered…?”
“Shh! Quiet, Johnny. Wait till we get into my truck.”
With shaky hands I managed to open the passenger door of the detective’s truck and climbed into the seat, shut the door and waited for the bug-eyed, green-skinned, long-necked, molecular-hologram who was my friend from Heaven to join me.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…”
“Johnny?”
“Yes, Nat?”
“Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay, I’m anything but okay. I want to leave right now, Nat. Can we do that? Can we leave right now?”
“No, I’m afraid we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Security Wolves would kill you the second you tried.”
“But I’m already dead.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes I am. I was about ready to tell him what I was and he would’ve ripped my head off, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, Johnny, if you’d said what I thought you were about to say he would have.”
“Because I’m forbidden to exist, aren’t I?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“I’m forbidden to exist by the very people I’m here to meet, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“Well, the LeTorque are already in there preparing to plead their side of the case against the Ramos family…”
“What? They didn’t even say goodbye.”
“They’re not gone, they’re inside the building you’re sitting in front of right now.”
“They might as well be gone because the second I go in there I’m a dead man.”
“Well now, let’s not jump the gun here. Remember, the LeTorque are a pretty resourceful lot. “
“Resourceful enough to reverse a forbidden ruling?”
“Johnny, it’s one thing to rule something forbidden, it’s quite another to enforce it.”
“Huh?”
“You already exist.”
“So?”
“So, by definition you’ve rendered the ruling moot.”
“I don’t get you.”
“Forbidden means not allowed to exist but you already exist so the ruling doesn’t apply.”
“What?”
“The ruling was put into place so no supplicant would be born in the first place. Forbidden stops the design, or building, of what is not wanted. But you’re already here; you exist. Now, they may not want to keep you around and they can order you beheaded but they’re walking a fine line if they do.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because you’re a Superior and a Superior has a few rights which aren’t allowed to be violated.”
“What are those?”
“Superiors cannot be jailed, Superiors cannot be fined and, most of all, Superiors cannot be put to death by anything but direct combat.”
“So… what? If I go in there and they don’t like me they’ll tell some Wolf to rip my head off? What good does that do me? I’m still dead.”
“Yes, true. If they were to rule you were to be tried through direct, single combat then you’d most assuredly be dead. But remember who we’re talking about. These people form tight-knit little families which make up a larger tribe. Three tribes make up the clan and three clans rule their society.”
“So?”
“So, while they believe in their inherent superiority they’re also fiercely loyal to those they believe are part of their family. Basically, they view their family as an extension of themselves.”
“So?”
“So, families stick together.”
“And…?”
“If you’re part of a family and judged deserving of death through combat your family is judged the same.”
“So, if they judge me put to death they judge the LeTorque the same?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought we were here to judge whether the Ramos family had the right to keep what they stole from the LeTorque?”
“At the beginning it may have been but… Hold on, here comes Butch.”
“You’re wanted inside” the Security Wolf said to me and began walking toward the entrance to the Lumberyard.
I looked at Nat and he smiled, nodded his head and indicated I should get out and follow the Wolf.
“You’re not coming in with me?”
“No, I’m not a Superior.”
“So, I’m going in there alone?”
“Yes, it’s the way your people like it.”
“Nat?”
“Yes, Johnny?”
“If I don’t come out alive…?”
“Yes?”
“’Well, there’s a Zombie in my closet at home and Steve’s in the field over where Butch threw him.”
“I’ll take care of it, Johnny” he said as I exited the coolest cop-truck in Texas and as I made my way to the certain death awaiting me I heard on the wisps of the wind a Z
ombie’s voice reply…
“Steve…”
The entrance to the country-western bar was the same as a thousand others, with two giant wooden doors opening outward so upon entrance you’re immediately propelled into another world. The interior lighting was usually dimmed to prepare guests for a night of entertainment without the requirement of full sight because, as we all know, we look better in poor lighting since it hides our blemishes not only from others but also from ourselves.
SPEAK FOR YOURSELF.
On this evening hour, though, the lights were not even on so I entered the club without the aid of even a nightlight for guidance. The first thing I encountered was the wall located about five feet inside the wooden doors which swung shut behind me cutting out any early evening light available which led me to walk headfirst into what was in my path.
“Ow!”
Turning left I encountered the second obstacle on my journey to death; the enormous bulk of a Werewolf who’d been standing in the dark watching me run into the wall.
“Oof! Sorry about that” I said but got no reply, just a hand on my back propelling me forward to greet the end of my earthly existence.
The third obstacle was myself for the interior of the cavernous space was lit by torches which seemed so medieval I actually stopped short which was a mistake because the Wolf behind me did not, so I ended up face down on the thinly carpeted floor where I lay for all of one second before the ghastly beast lifted me to my feet with one hand while not even breaking stride.
The inside of the Lumberyard is vast; innumerable tables are scattered about in some kind of pattern I’m sure someone could make sense of and four separate bars are situated at the four corners of the place. The bars were each individually designed and all were huge. Around each of the mahogany tops surrounding the dens of liquid pleasure were about forty barstools. Inside the mahogany countertops was the promised land; hundreds of bottles offering sublime pleasure to the thirsty buffalo-hunters of the day who frequented the establishment when it was open to the public. It wasn’t open then because I and my fellow LeTorque were being judged whether we were worthy enough to remain on this side of the golden curtain of existence.
The bars on the corners were unoccupied and numerous tables were located between them and the dance floor which was protected from the tables by a four-foot leaning-rail which a person could either saddle up to and watch the dancers go round and round or set their drink on so they themselves could go out and perform their own version of the modern day do-se-do. The three families making up the Clan Elders were located on separate sides, six on each, five seated and one standing; the Matriarch. Three Matriarchs stood, holding court on the two families inside the leaning-rail; the LeTorque and the Ramos. I stood at the south entrance to the dance floor and did not move. A hush had fallen over the Elders as I was brought down the aisle and I remember looking to see the one person who’d made the whole drama possible and there she was, to my right, as beautiful as ever and, in the light of the five torches signifying the families involved I swear I saw the amazing violet eyes of Melissa staring back at me.
“You may speak” the Matriarch directly to the front of me said.
“What should I say?”
“Say the truth” replied the Matriarch to my right.
“About what?”
“About why you are here” said the Matriarch to my left.
“Okay, I’m here because that crazy lunatic pulled a gun out of her purse and shot our prospective client in the head five times” I said pointing at Melissa.
Melissa merely smiled back at me.
“We know; but why are you here?” asked the Vampire to the front.
“To help out the LeTorque” I answered.
“How?” asked the Vampire to the right.
“By setting the record straight; Melissa cheated by using me.”
“How did she use you?” asked the Vampire to the left.
Okay, this is where it got really scary. I was Forbidden but I existed. I didn’t see any way out so I went with my gut and spoke the truth.
“She used my cloaking abilities to hide herself from the LeTorque when she assassinated Peter North.”
“So?” said the front Vamp.
“So? That’s cheating isn’t it?”
“How is it any different from the LeTorque using you to remove Daniel’s head from the Ramos family?” asked the left Vamp.
“Because she started it?”
“She used what was available to achieve a higher purpose, did she not?” said the right Vamp.
“What higher purpose?” I asked.
“The advancement of her family, Cloak” the one in front replied and I had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t on our side.
It was strange being grilled by torchlight at the edge of a honky-tonk dance floor by three beautiful Vampires who appeared to enjoy asking their questions by order. One second I was looking at the Matriarch to the front, then to the left, then to the right. It was making me a little dizzy and it didn’t help that, except for the two glances by Melissa, none of the members of the two families being judged did anything but stare straight ahead at the front Matriarch.
“Well, I don’t see where it really got her anywhere. I mean, it looks to me like the LeTorque evened the score with old Danny-boy’s death, didn’t they?”
The front Matriarch gave me a look of evil but I’d figured out the routine by then so I ignored her and looked at the left Matriarch instead.
“They have evened the Wolves, true, but they’re still down one Vampire and so are one Superior short” she said.
“But that’s not fair, Stephanie’s in hibernation with Peter’s baby” I said.
“No, I’m not” came a voice from the darkness.
The woman walking down the aisle accompanied by the Shadow Wolf was lovely, with auburn hair and the figure only supermodels seem to reacquire after childbirth, which was undoubtedly successful due to the proof she had cradled in the nook of her arm; the newborn Superior.
“Stephanie?” asked the front Vampire in a somewhat amazed voice.
“Yes, Isabella?” the Vampire I’d heard so much about but never met replied. The room began taking on the low hum which accompanies whispering from surprised individuals as the attending Superiors began discussing amongst themselves what was going on.
“Isabella? Isabella Satan?” I inadvertently asked in my shock at what was transpiring.
“Yes, Cloak, do you have a question of me?” the front one literally sneered at me.
“Um… no, Your Worshipness, I’m just a little shocked, I guess.”
“Then keep quiet before I have my Wolf take your head” she snapped.
The whispering stopped.
“If that Wolf of yours takes one step toward Johnny, Mistress, you will be unattached before his second” George’s voice boomed from the left side of the floor.
Dead silence.
“You would challenge me, you whelping of a cub?” came a voice from behind Isabella Satan as a shadow began to lift itself from the chair it resided in.
“I won’t only challenge you, you toothless old cur, I’ll put your head on a stake” George replied.
“Is a challenge issued, Wolf of LeTorque?” asked the Matriarch to the left.
“Yes” George responded.
“Is the challenge accepted, Wolf of Satan?” the Matriarch to the right asked.
“Yes” Lucifer replied.
“We rule the Wolf of LeTorque can challenge” Isabella Satan said although she sounded a little less sure of herself.
The whispering returned.
A Wolf, the largest in Third Clan, appeared at the side of his mate, Isabella, who looked upon me with complete and total hatred for all I was; not for what I had become but for what I’d been born to do. George was standing in the center of the dance floor which had taken on the very real semblance of a combat ring and the two families occupying the ring made room for the second most powerf
ul Wolf ever sired to enter.
The whispering ceased.
The Wolf entered the ring and…
“Stop!”
… the voice of Nat Hallowed rang out through the club.
The Alien Detective strolled down the aisle to stand directly beside me as the two largest Wolves of Third Clan stood ten feet apart and appeared eager to see which of them was the better. Isabella’s mate, the stories of nightmare, was everything as foretold; large, pale of skin, dark of hair with ebony eyes and a hint of a smile for it looked as though he was enjoying the idea of testing himself against his opponent, an opponent who was slightly smaller but no less imposing. George stood still, his eyes set in stone facing the Wolf who was once his hero but now his foe. His stance was ready yet relaxed and the air of confidence he gave off left the impression he knew exactly where he stood and was perfectly willing to test his foundation.
“You would interfere in Superior business, Monitor?” asked the Queen of Darkness, Isabella Satan.
“I must if the business has gotten out of hand, Mistress.”
“State what you mean, Detective.”
“The rules of the clan state if an Elder of the clan is challenged then the other two families making up the Three Elders must approve the contest. This has happened. But the rules further state the challenging family may only be accepted if they’re in a position to challenge for Eldership. As of yet the LeTorque position has not been settled therefore this challenge may not occur.”
“You would step in?” she asked in amazement.
“Yes, Mistress, I’m afraid I would.”
The hissing of the crowed immediately reached new levels as I looked at the long-necked Alien in a different light. He wasn’t physically imposing, in fact he was downright docile in both demeanor and appearance but when he stated he would indeed put an end to any violations of Clan Law something resonated from him which left no doubt in my mind as to whether he could do it or not. He wasn’t stern, he wasn’t angry, he was, in reality, sad. The look on his face showed he had no wish to do what he said he’d do but he would do it nonetheless and by the expressions on the enormous beings making up both the combatants and the gallery I could tell they knew exactly what the outcome would be.
“Then we have no choice” the Matriarch on the left said.
“We shall judge the LeTorque within the hour” the Matriarch on the right said.
“The Counsel will adjourn for one hour” Isabella Satan said.
We found ourselves back in the parking lot because no one wanted to sit in the dark inside a country-western nightclub while three Vampires ruled on whether their livelihoods were to be taken away from them. Trudy and Vivian were in conversation with the returning Stephanie, “oohing” and “ahhing” over the newborn baby while George and Philip were discussing battle tactics or something which left the poor detective from Heaven standing alone with me to answer my uneducated questions.
“Okay, what just happened in there?” I asked.
“The battle for Clan Eldership is taking place” he replied.
“Huh? I thought you said this was a judgment on whether the LeTorque would regain control of their business?”
“It is, but like I said, the LeTorque are not just any family. The other Clan Elders know the LeTorque are in a position, and have been for a while, to challenge their Tribal Elder Family for leadership. They came here expecting a showdown and they’re more than happy to get one. The fact Peter pulled off his merging of the occupations only added to the tension.”
“So this is really a judgment to see if the LeTorque become Tribal Elders?”
“Uh-huh. The other two Tribal Elder Families are waiting to see if the LeTorque make a challenge and, if they do, whether the challenged Elder Family will accept or accede. It appears they will accept.”
“Huh?”
“The Tribal Elders of the LeTorque are the Satan, Johnny, and they just indicated they’re more than willing to fight.”
“So when George threatened…?”
“The Satan accepted.”
“Then what’s going to happen next?”
“Well, this is where it gets interesting. Remember, the Ramos family is challenging for the right of the LeTorque’s occupation and since they hold the business currently they’re in a good position to win. Now, they were in a better position, actually a dominant position, when they killed Peter and still had Daniel but it changed when Vivian took his head and it changed even more because of how it was done.”
“Huh?”
“She did it using you. In the same tower Melissa used you to remove Peter; Vivian used you to remove Daniel.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters because of what the Superiors value; strength and cunning. The Wolves are the enforcers so are judged for physical dominance and fighting ability but the Vampires are judged by intelligence and planning. When Vivian evened the score with the Ramos family she did it two ways; first, she removed the Wolf and second, she stalemated any advantage the Ramos had of claiming ingenuity by copying the very way they did their act.”
“So, by using me to kill Daniel she tied the game?”
“Uh-huh.”
“She used me?”
“They all used you, it’s how the game is played.”
“I’m not sure I like this game.”
“It’s a little late to go back now.”
“Still…”
“Still what?”
“Never mind. Okay, so, what? They’re voting on whether the Ramos or LeTorque win?”
“Yes, and it could all be over if they vote in the Ramos favor and deny the LeTorque a challenge.”
“Why?”
“The LeTorque have shown their hand. If they lose the vote the Satan will most definitely move to eliminate any future threat to their leadership.”
“What? They’ll kill the LeTorque?”
“They’ll kill Phillip and George. Without those two the family could not survive.”
“Couldn’t the girls find new mates?”
“Yes, but they most definitely won’t both be Alphas. Remember, what Stephanie accomplished by getting three Alphas to agree not to challenge for leadership was, and still is, unique.”
“So if the Ramos win, George and Phillip die.”
“Well, you too, Johnny.”
“What?”
“You’re being protected by the LeTorque, without them you will no longer exist” Nat answered.
“But…?”
“But what?”
“What did I do?”
“You took your first breath.”
“So, the LeTorque need to win for me to survive. Do they have a chance?”
“Well, they stood a pretty good chance before that event happened in there.”
“The return of Stephanie?”
“Uh-huh. Her return evened the strength of the two families; actually it tilted the strength vastly on their side.”
“Really?”
“Haven’t you been listening? Phillip and George are Alphas. Now, they already stood a good chance of winning even though they’d be fighting with one fewer Vamp but…”
“Hold on.”
“Yes?”
“I thought Vampires didn’t fight in these conflicts? I thought they were too important to the survival of the species?”
“No, they don’t fight in wars. And it’s true they don’t fight in these conflicts as well but all you need to do is recall two events you were in to know Vampires most definitely do choose their time and place to fight; it’s just they’re virtually never able to do so because they’re no match for a Wolf.”
“’What do they do in these conflicts?”
“They feed their Wolves.”’
“They what?”
“These conflicts can last for days and there are no time-outs so usually what happens is the Wolves fight until exhaustion then seek out their mate to get nourishment so they can reenter the fray.” r />
“Nourishment?”
“The Vampires give their blood.”
“Oh my… Oh never mind, that’s not even gross anymore, please go on.”
“Well, the Vampires slice their wrists and their Wolf feeds. Now, when Eldership is at stake there are usually three Wolves fighting and three Vamps feeding so it’s usually either a Wolf of exceptional strength or a Vamp with remarkable blood who ends up the winner but there’s one thing to consider.”
“What?”
“Wolves can obtain nourishment from any of their Vampires and since Wolves are remarkably similar to each other in fighting ability the ones who receive the most blood almost always win. Therefore, if one family is fighting with two Vamps while the other is fighting with three…”
“The one with three can last longer.”
“And the one with two loses.”
“Hey, what happens if the winning side only has one Wolf left?”
“Then the Vamps without mates will be deemed unattached and the remaining Wolf and Vamp will pick two other mated pairs from the families below them in their tribe. Those families will then pick among those lower until the ladder is complete.”
“So an Elder family could possibly consist of only one pair of original members?”
“Yes, and it’s actually the norm for these guys.”
“Do they pick really strong Wolves and Vamps as replacements?”
“Not usually. They need to be careful because if they pick a Wolf stronger than the one in place, the stronger Wolf will challenge for Alpha and his Vampire will then become Matriarch. There’s usually careful consideration placed on which Wolves to ask according to whether the top Wolf feels certain enough he could win a challenge but they don’t want to pick too weak a Wolf or they risk a challenge of Eldership from a family below who might perceive the weakness as an opportunity.”
“So, what’re you saying? When it comes to families, Superiors are highly loyal but subject to change?”
“Uh-huh, when it comes to our friends, they will fight to the death for their family, whichever one they choose it to be.”
“These people are weird, Nat.”
“Tell me about it, Johnny” said the molecular-holographic Alien from Heaven.
“Okay, so with Stephanie returning the LeTorque are almost guaranteed to win and then they can challenge for Eldership, right?”
“Okay, I guess the first thing you need to know is the vote of the Elders isn’t a vote in favor of one family succeeding another.”
“No?”
“No, the vote is to allow one family to challenge another for succession.”
“Huh?”
“The vote is among the Matriarchs and they value intelligence over brute strength so the vote of the Elders is generally whether the Vampires in the challenging family have been crafty enough to allow their Wolves to challenge for combat.”
“Okay, I don’t know what that means?
“It means since the Ramos currently hold the tower they are, de facto, the occupying family and thus in ownership of the office. If the Elders agree they are indeed in ownership then the LeTorque will be deemed unattached. Now, if that happens the LeTorque will immediately challenge the Ramos and another vote will be held on whether Vivian’s beheading of Daniel was cunning enough to allow for them to do so. If they hold it was, two things will happen; either the Ramos’ will accept or they will accede. If they accept then they fight, if they accede then they’ll be cast off as unattached and need to reenter another occupation.”
“Why would they need to enter another occupation?”
“Because of the stakes of the game. When a family challenges another family they immediately give up their previous occupation and must succeed if they wish to further their move up the hierarchy. If the Ramos’ lose they will be unattached.”
“Why can’t they go back to their previous occupational status?”
“Because then families would be challenging other families all the time and business would suffer.”
“Okay, let me get this straight. The LeTorque had the office until the Ramos took it; once that happened the Ramos had the office, right?”
“Yes, it doesn’t matter how you got the office, only that you occupy it.”
“And by ‘office’ you mean?”
“In this case the offices of Commercial Property Management Incorporated. Other cases might involve, say, a wheat production farm or a security consultants firm; it doesn’t matter what the actual structure is only that it is representative of the family’s occupational position.”
“So even though the LeTorque were good at what they did and earned their place in the hierarchy the fact the Ramos family came in and took the place over when the LeTorque were preoccupied gives the Ramos control over the place?”
“Not exactly. Any change in occupational authority must be judged by the Clan Elders. In this case, the Ramos are claiming to have cunningly removed the LeTorque and thus should be allowed to keep what they’ve acquired. The LeTorque are challenging the claim.”
“So if the Elders rule for the LeTorque?”
“Then the Ramos are through.”
“And if they rule for the Ramos?”
“Then the LeTorque will challenge the Ramos using Daniel’s death as their catalyst and the Council will vote on whether the LeTorque have a case for combat.”
“And if they rule they do?”
“Then the LeTorque fight the Ramos for their office.”
“And if they rule they don’t?”
“Then it’s been nice knowing you.”