Chapter 8 - Deal Breaker

This was the question Eve dreaded. What did she want in return? It bordered on betrayal. Werewolves and humans had been close for centuries. But it wasn't like she was going to ask them to turn against the entire human race.

"We have a minor nuisance of our own," she said. "Nothing serious, but if you'd like to help, you're welcome to it."

James looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Never trust a vampire" was practically the werewolf motto.

"What kind of nuisance?" he asked.

"One with sunlight-based weapons," Eve answered, waving her hand as if the issue were indeed minor and not worth her time.

"A war?" James asked. His face had hardened. Every muscle, every angry age line on his face said the same thing: no.

"Troublemakers," Eve said. "A small group. Nothing to worry about."

"Then why not call the police? Why not ask them for protection? Unless..."

James was beginning to understand. All the enthusiasm he'd shown for her offer to help with the pixies vanished in an instant.

"Humans. You want us to fight humans."

There was no question in his voice. And there was no question about it.

"I refuse," he said coldly, standing up to end the conversation. "Werewolves do not fight humans."

"Except for when you go mad on full moon," Eve noticed coldly. She was not standing up, and had no intention to leave. "How many werewolf attacks have there been this year? The papers never miss one of them, but I always skim past such news. We all have our weaknesses."

James was fuming. What she said was true: werewolves did go mad occasionally, becoming unable to control the wolf in them and running on a killing spree around the city. It had been happening a lot more frequently in the past year. Suspiciously often, as if something or someone were messing with the natural order of things.

"There are as many humans who have lost someone to a werewolf attack as to a vampire," Eve went on. "And soon enough these troublemakers of mine will find a new target for their anger. What happens when they come after your people with wolfsbane bombs?"

James seemed to consider this.

"Is that what Lady Cassandra said?" he asked.

"You'll have to ask her yourself," Eve said coldly. Her fake friendly smile and charming manners were gone.

"We will take our chances with the humans," James said firmly. "And with the pixies."

Behind him, some of the managers were exchanging worried looks.

"The pixie pranks are getting more and more serious," one of them said. "One of our workers nearly died yesterday. The doctors fear he'll be crippled for life. And the humans aren't helping us."

Some more voices joined in, but James silenced them with a growl.

"Well, if the werewolves are afraid of a bunch of humans with flashlights, then it can't be helped," Eve said coldly. "I did so wish we could be friends."

The sun had set, leaving the great office shrouded in darkness. James pressed a button on his desk, and the room was inundated by blinding light. Eve felt her skin prickle under her veil.

"We have our own sun-based weapons," James said coldly. "I suggest you leave now, before we use them."

Rex jumped up from his seat and fumbled with the parasol, trying desperately to protect Eve's face. She pushed the parasol aside with her gloved hand.

"We are not afraid of your little lights," she said coldly, standing up. "But I would have never thought the werewolf honor would allow you to ally yourselves with that sort of people."

She turned on her heels and left the room majestically. A trail of smoke lingered behind her. But, thankfully, the corridor outside was not lit. Her face began to regenerate as soon as the door was closed behind her. Rex hadn't followed her out of the room, but she was glad for it. At least he wouldn't see her ruined face before it healed. She wondered at the sort of sunlight the werewolves had used. It was even more powerful than the light of the evening sun. Powerful enough to breach through her layers of sunscreen. Now where would werewolves get that sort of technology? Had she been right after all? Were they really allied with the group who was trying to kill her people? She'd made the remark as an insult, meant to hurt them only. But perhaps they were working with the scientist, the one who'd created the sun-bomb. If this was true, she'd just given away her plan to seek help from non-vampires.

***

Rex found himself stupidly holding a black parasol in a room full of werewolves. The top werewolves of the company that had rejected his application, no less. His first instinct was to run after his own CEO, even though she'd just rejected his help. There was something majestic in the way she'd pushed aside the parasol. And it was even more impressive considering that there was a distinct smell of burnt flesh and an unmistakable sizzling sound coming from her face in the bright artificial sunlight that had flooded the room. But, just as it was impressive, it was also sending a clear message: she didn't need him.

Rex held no delusions about how much use he was to his CEO. He was the diversity hire, the one she could not fire without being accused of discrimination. Perhaps he could have helped gain the good will of others of his kind, but he'd managed to fail at that just now. There was no deal to be had with Bones R Ours corporation.

His first instinct was to run after her, but she didn't need him and she'd made that perfectly clear. And suddenly he realized just how badly it hurt to not be needed, to be unable to offer any real help or protection. Pain welled up inside him, a sort of pain he'd never experienced before. Pain, and frustration and anger at how powerless he was.

"You are just cowards!" he shouted at the werewolves in the room. Somehow, it was easier to direct that anger at someone other than himself. "You hide behind your stupid sunlight, and wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone in need!"

His words were met by angry growling from all managers. The CEO straightened his back and gave him a look meant to make the most fearsome alpha cower. It had no effect on Rex. Somehow, his anger was stronger.

"No one," the CEO said, "not a single one of my managers, has ever dared to call me a coward. And you think I will put up with this sort of treatment from the lowly sort of traitor who'd rather serve a vampire than his own kind? I don't care about the law, I will have my wolves tear you limb from limb if I ever see you anywhere near my company ever again. Rolf, get security to throw him out. And make sure they rough him up."

Rolf picked up his phone instantly to call security. But the look in his eyes was apologetical. When he saw no one was looking, he waved at Rex, indicating the door. Rex didn't wait for more trouble. He ran out into the dark corridor, trying to find his way out of the building. He hoped Eve had not left him behind this time. Knowing her, even without anyone to drive her, she would have taken her limo and driven it herself, just to point out how useless he was.

A couple of guards showed up at the end of the corridor. Rex tried to avoid them, but one of them caught him by the collar of his shirt.

"I was just leaving," Rex said. "There's no need..."

"We were told to throw you out, not to let you go," one of the guards said.

"And we were told not to be too gentle about it," the other one added.

The first punch landed on Rex's face almost before they were done talking. It splintered his lip and broke his nose, sending a trickle of blood down his chin. The second punch projected him into the wall behind him. The third caught him in his stomach. And then there was something like a hiss, like the sound the wind makes when rushing through a narrow corridor. Rex saw the guards lifting their fists and preparing to strike, both at the same time. And then he saw them flying into the wall in front of him.

There was a shadow standing in front of him, dressed in a black dress that billowed for a moment like a cape.