Before she could finish the statement–or explain what my mother needed with her eldest son–the door to my room swung open on its hinges. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, grinning maniacally and giving no sign decades had passed since we last saw each other.
Jack Timber was not my brother by birth but by blood. This was one of the reasons we did not have any facial resemblance same as to why we had different temperaments. The last time I had seen him, he had his hair bleached into a blue, spiky hair. He'd been leaning into the punk rock scene. Jack had adored every depraved moment of the eighties. Humans prone to excess were easy to manipulate, and werewolves–who it turned out liked cocaine as much as they loved opium–found it difficult to resist.
And no one loved drugs and humans more than Jack. His hair had grown longer and faded to its natural blond in the intervening years. He'd given up his signature look which was more of punk rock back then but kept the motorcycle jacket. He wore it now over a black T-shirt and loose, worn Levi's.
I observed all of this within a second of the door flying open. Yes, Jack might look different, but his cheekiness was fully intact because a half-dressed woman leaned precariously against him.
"Good morning, brother," Jack called cheerfully.
"I see you're not well taken care of." He said while gesturing to my erection.
The girl beside him rolled her head a little, and she blinked dreamily over at me. Werewolves had a thing about sharing humans back in the day but I wasn't certain if it was still in existence. I looked towards the blonde. Her gaze skimmed down my body appreciatively until it reached my groin and locked on like a heat-seeking missile. Her eyes widened, her mouth curved into a cheeky smile as she stared.
"I appreciate the thought," I said dryly. I tossed the sheet back over my lap to block her view of my dick. "But I'm not interested."
"I doubt that."
I ignored his opinion. "Why are you here?"
Jack didn't answer.
It was never a good sign when I woke from a long sleep to find him in my house. Or any of my siblings, for that matter. He shifted the woman to his other arm like a doll. Her arms flailed out, and she clung to his shoulder.
"Judging from that tent pole between your legs, you might need my help for other matters."
"That won't be necessary." But I might as well have been talking to a brick wall because Jack was already murmuring to the woman.
"I'm sure you loved how last night went. You can have more. Go to him, Tell him how much you love to go for a ride."
"I love to ride," she turned to me and said in a voice that sounded so fake. "Can we go for one now?"
"See? The flesh is willing." Jack moved into the room and nudged her toward the bed. The bimbo dropped onto all fours, crawling toward me, but I held up a hand.
"As touching as your welcome gift is, Juliet was in the middle of telling me why the fuck I'm awake."
"Allow me to share the good news," Jack told Juliet, who tipped her head in agreement. But while Jack's grin remained, her lips formed a grim slash. Anything that amused my brother and worried Juliet was likely to piss me off.
"I'll check in with the airfield to make sure we're on track." She hurried out.
I'd never seen her avoid anything with such utter anxiety. I didn't understand it. Unless there had been a financial catastrophe, the Timber family name still meant open doors and swiftly snipped red tape. The jet would be ready to take me to whatever private residence my mother currently occupied as soon as I summoned it.
Our family had over a hundred properties spread throughout the world, the results of a real estate portfolio that stretched back several centuries. We employed private pilots, owned multiple airplanes, and could buy whatever we wanted by simply snapping our fingers. So Juliet didn't need to check with the airfield. She was putting a safe distance between us before my brother dropped a bomb.
'Oh no. This was going to be bad fucking news.'
"What does mother want now?" I asked him as soon as Juliet had left. The blonde girl lay down at the foot of the bed and fell asleep, looking a bit like a house cat. He must have worn her out last night telling from the question he asked before she laid on my bed. She was stoned out of her mind.
"Always straight to business." Jack dropped into a linen chair by the bank of windows. "Not even a little interested in what I've been up to?"
"Women and drugs, I assume." Probably a few men, for that matter. But I didn't bother to say it aloud since my brother's sexuality wasn't what I needed to know. Jack's appetite was always open to new experiences, as was his bed.
"Yeah, you're almost correct. But I joined another band for a bit." Jack tilted his head thoughtfully. "But yeah, mostly because of the women and drugs. Then again, everyone had a thing or was in a band in the nineties. It was like the sixties all over again."
"I'm sorry I missed it," I bit out. I was not, in fact, sorry.
The Immortality that came with the werewolf genes hadn't gifted Jack with musical talent and I was the only one in the family who suffered it. Thanks to his obsession with the art, I'd sat through a couple of failed symphonies and one horrible opera. Punk had been okay for him since it mostly involved screaming and shouting loud words.
"Oh, and these are big now." He tossed a small black object toward me.
I caught it in my right hand and studied it for a second. When I turned it over, an image lit up along with a display of the time and neat rows of small icons. "What is it?"
"Phone," he explained.
"This is a phone?" I shook my head. "So this is what humanity has been up to? Tell me that they at least cured cancer."
"It's also a camera," Jack continued, ignoring my question as he sprawled in the chair. "And the internet. Wait, fuck, was that even a thing when you took your little nap?"
He must think this is a show-and-tell moment. I dropped the phone on the bed. It felt fragile, but I doubted it was too complicated to figure out. Later, I'd get a less narcissistic rundown of the major political, technological, and cultural events I'd missed from Juliet. For now, I needed to steer Jack's ego in the right direction.
"So, why are you here little bro?" I asked.
His mouth curved into a smirk. "Mother wants to catch up."
"I better not be awake because that woman wants to play mommy to me."
Those never ended well. The last time the entire Timber clan was in the same city, we'd drawn local attention. By the time we'd realized it, it was too late.
"Oh no, it is an official summons." The smile grew wider, displaying a dazzling set of white teeth that could disarm and dismember within seconds.
"I'll give you a hint. It's been about fifty years since the last one."
I picked up the black thing Jack called a phone again and looked at the screen again. Under the time was a date. I groaned when I read December. Fifty years. December. It was all adding up. I didn't know why I thought I would get out of it. Nothing could stop it.
I'd gone to sleep expecting humanity to end while I was out. They'd been heading toward total devastation at a breakneck speed back then. I couldn't stand watching it any longer. But now that I was here, not dead, facing the looming threat of the 'supernaturals social season' instead, I wished they had. The great World War III would have been more fun.
"Fuck," I groaned. "Just kill me. I'll write you a note that says I asked you to."
"Cheer up, brother." His eyes glinted, which only made me dread what he was about to say more. "It's not just any season this year. The Tafiki Rites are being revived. You know what that means."
Now I understood my brother's smugness. It wasn't just any social season. Not for the Timber family. Not for me. The Tafiki Rites changed everything. While werewolves held a social season every fifty years to catch up and show off the wealth and numbers they'd accumulated since the last season, the Tafiki Rites were more like an old-fashioned mating ritual.
Traditionally, they were held every couple of centuries. During the Tafiki Rites, werewolves were allowed to dine with–and other supernaturals. All groups come seeking matches that might produce new pureblood vampires, encourage alliances, and pad already swelling egos. It had fallen out of fashion by the twentieth century. It appeared something had changed while I was asleep.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself," I warned him. "Someday, it will be your turn."
"I figure I've got a couple years unless you fuck this up." I overlooked his words, but ignoring the summons from our mother would be impossible. We both knew that.
"A Timber answers when duty calls," I sighed as the words left my mouth, reaching for the blonde, suddenly interested in a distraction.
"Still better than me. I'll leave you two alone." Jack stood and walked toward the open door. He stopped just short of it. "See you at home."
He left as she climbed onto my lap. I didn't know if I was going to fuck her for long or allow her to relieve me. Judging by the way the woman craned her head, she was ready for anything. She was pretty, in an artificial way. But there was altogether too much of, well, everything. Maybe Jack was still chasing the excess of the eighties, or perhaps he thought it might bridge the gap between when I had gone to sleep and the current year. Either way, I didn't care. She was willing, and her blood was warm.
I barely processed as she sank onto me and began to moan. I had other problems to worry about, and even a pretty blonde riding my cock wasn't enough to take my mind off them.
They had enacted the Rites.
That meant it was worse than just tedious parties and pissing contests. There were strings attached. It had been at least two hundred years since the last time that had been necessary.
Our older sister, my twin had been alive then, and the duty had fallen on her to attend the balls and the orgies and all the general chaos the elite of society could concoct in the name of matchmaking. Now it was my fucking turn. Goddess help me.
I, Eric Ren Timber, had to take a wife."