Later that night, I stared morosely down into my glass of whatever the bartender had given me. My inability to get drunk had never bothered me up until this point. What I wouldn’t give for the chance to be incapacitated right now. I now understood why humans liked to drink. It was to forget the crapshoot that was their life.
Just as I was about to leave the city, a messenger from the coven had arrived with a letter for me. Hoping that it was my elder, Cassius, summoning me for some duty, and therefore giving me an excuse to leave, I eagerly accepted it. As fortune would have it, it was a job, but not one that I was happy to get.
Pups in your vicinity. You are the new Watcher.
“Stupid werewolves,” I muttered.
The stories about the bone-deep revulsion between vampires and werewolves are one of the few facts that are true about our species. In fact, those of us that I term anomalies, vampires, werewolves, fairies, succubae, etc…, tend to keep our distance from each other. I’m not sure of the exact reason why. I just know that as soon as someone is turned, an automatic contempt rises within us for other non-human creatures. But there is no greater contempt for us vampires then werewolves. Of all other non-human creatures, they are the only ones with a population to match our own, and that is where the problems arise. There is simply not enough room for the both of us.
The wars between lycans and vampires have occurred since we came into existence. There are no stories as to what started everything, but that has no significance to this tale anyways. It is important to note that about 500 years ago, after a particularly bloody battle where nearly all of the werewolves were killed, a peace treaty (of which my elder Cassius was a part of) was made. The contents of said treaty is, once again, not important, but from that time on we have, for the most part, been at peace. I’ve actually met a few werewolves that I can honestly say don’t repulse me, but I still wouldn’t spend a comfortable evening with them.
A few years ago, word reached the coven that some young lycans were starting to cause trouble. Descendants of old fighters that detested the treaty, they were raised on the old stories of war and glory. Now, they were trying to incite others to join them. After years of peace, though, most were unwilling, and sent them on their way. At first, we just considered them an annoyance, and waved it off as the foolishness of youth. After 8 years, however, their following has grown to be about 40-45 young werewolves. For a full, experienced coven, this would still pose no problem, but a potential for the peace treaty to be broken had Cassius concerned, so Watchers were set up wherever the upstarts went to keep an eye on them.
As fate would have it, just as I was getting ready to leave, the leader of this little group, Jason, and his six “lieutenants” decided to pay a visit to a local club. It was now my job, as the new Watcher, to obtain as much information as I could about them, as well as make sure they didn’t cause any trouble with the locals. This outing was simply celebratory in nature, however, as they were congratulating themselves on some recent additions to the resistance. Barring any catastrophe, they would drink and be merry, and then leave at first light, with me not far behind them. It was the best scenario I could have hoped for.
Enter catastrophe. A group of women walked into the club, and right in the middle of them stood Emily. My jaw nearly unhinged at the sight, and I’m pretty sure some circuits in my brain sizzled out and died. She was dressed for a night out on the town, though it was obvious she really wasn’t comfortable with the attire. The high heels, short jean skirt, and low cut blouse were definitely not her style of choice, but I certainly wasn’t complaining. I vaguely remembered Emily telling her grandparents that some friends of hers were going to take her out to try and help her forget about the attack. Apparently, her style of dress was of their choosing, as I was pretty sure that Emily never owned those clothes before this night. Their idea of getting her to forget her ordeal was very revealing, to say the least.
When I finally snapped myself out of my stupor, I noticed I wasn't the only one who had seen them come in. The werewolf boys had zeroes in on them the moment they had entered, and I could practically see their adolscent hormones stand up and do a little cheer. I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, and I just barely prevented myself from hitting my head on the table. My night had just become impossibly complicated.