by Tiffany Foxe
“They’re planning on executing Emiline. It will most likely take place in the next day or two which doesn’t give us much time. I’m not sure of the location, but it can only be one of three places.”
“How do you know that?” asked Cecelia condescendingly.
“They’re the only places she wouldn’t be able to escape,” Sophie explained.
“Where are they?” asked Ralph.
“All three are clubs that belong to Luce.”
“Dance clubs?” asked Ralph.
“Strip clubs,” answered Cecelia.
“Yeeeahhh...” agreed Sophie, a bit surprised that Cecelia knew that.
“Whatever you need, you’ve got it,” he offered.
“Wait a minute,” interjected Cecelia. “Are you really gonna just trust her like that? How do know this isn’t some ploy...some trap...”
“I don’t,” he said.
“But, I’m not going to risk finding out it wasn’t.”
Cecelia let out a disgruntled sigh. Her view of the Watchers fell along similar lines of Luce’s view of the Sons. But, her leader had spoken. He had made his decision and now she had to roll with it, though she did not see it ending well.
“Thank you,” said Sophie with as much sincerity as she could muster.
She shot a glance over at Cecelia from the corner of her eye.
“How good are you with locks?”
Cecelia cocked one eyebrow up in curiosity.
***
Luce relaxed at a booth in her club sipping a martini as she watched her girls put on a performance for their customers. All of the employees were Watchers which made their shows extra special. They could do tricks and routines with the greatest of ease that just weren’t physically possible for a human. That was part of what made Luce’s clubs so popular. The other part was their beauty. Other places paled in comparison. It gave her clubs an obvious advantage: better girls and better shows. It was as simple as that. Of course, she didn’t just have female staff. Male and trans performances were highly lucrative, as well.
If Sophie’s knack was knowledge, Luce’s was people. She took great care in understanding them, their motivations, their desires, their fears...what drives them to do all of the weird and stupid things they do. After studying them for so long, she had surmised a few universal conclusions. For one, people were walking contradictions...the biggest hypocrites to ever roam the planet. She had yet to meet a person who didn’t meet this truth. The second involved love. For Luce, love was just a bloodsport. A game that started with desire, moved to personal fulfillment of said desire, and ended in a bloodbath...usually figuratively, but at times, literally, as well. The third universal truth was that time healed all. Sure, they still carried around battle scars of past altercations which affected their views and actions. But, for the most part, with a little time, people got over it and found new things to fill the void.
She was sure Sophie would get over her little infatuation. People always did. And, once Sophie was over hers, she would fall right back in line, being her confidant and companion in running the underground world that was their creation, just as it had always been.
***
Sophie and Cecelia stood at a table packing supplies for their rescue. They each stuffed knives, guns, and flood lights into several duffle bags, all supplies courtesy of the Sons. They had quite the stash. Maybe Luce was right, Sophie thought. Maybe they were preparing for war.
Sophie let out a long sigh.
“I need to feed.”
Her eyes met Cecelia’s.
“Don't look at me!” she protested.
Sophie rolled her eyes. She wasn't implying that, just stating an obvious dilemma. She knew she'd need her strength to make this plan work. The problem was finding a fresh, clean supply of blood. She very well couldn't go home or venture out to her usual vendors. She was certain they were on guard, and using the underground tunnels wasn't an option right now, either. She was positive they would be guarded. If she was going to feed, she’d have to do it the old fashioned way: hunt.
The thought stirred a bit of anxiety. She was rusty. She hadn't been on a hunt in years and frankly, wasn't a huge fan. Some Watchers lived for it. Stalking their prey, sizing them up, setting a trap with desire and passion. For many it was a game, just as a cat played with its food, so too, did they. However, Sophie found the whole thing distasteful. It seemed strange and barbaric to seduce your meal before eating it. In her opinion, it was the one aspect that made her kind uncivilized. And, she was ashamed to admit that there were times where she had behaved just as badly as the rest of them, especially when she really needed to feed.
In her experience, she had found that humans got temperamental when hungry. Watchers, however, transformed into masters of seduction. Charm, confidence, and charisma were their hunger traits, weapons used to entice their prey into their arms. Unfortunately for Sophie, she had gotten used to not feeding as often, so those traits weren't as prominent as they used to be unless she was outright starving. Tonight, she’d have to hunt without her weapons.
She arrived at a little bar in downtown Vancouver that night. Going back to her home turf with the current state of affairs felt like begging for trouble. She eyed through the window to check out the goods. It looked busy enough to not become the center of focus for people watchers, and not so busy that it was crowded. This would do just fine.
She went in, sat at the bar and ordered a drink. She still didn’t feel hungry enough for her unfailing charisma to take effect, but she knew she’d need all the strength she could muster the next night.
She sighed.
“Fake it ‘til you make it,” she mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink.
She glanced around the bar for her target. No one jumped out at her. Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood. Catching prey was one of the funnest things a Watcher could do, if you didn’t feel guilty about it. Alas, Sophie tended to have a pang of conscience during these sort of things. Perhaps, if she found someone she didn’t feel guilty about, a complete asshole or waste of oxygen. Someone the world was better off not having.
“How’s it going?”
Sophie turned to her left to find a man standing beside her. He held a drink in his hand that Sophie took to be an old fashioned, definitely wouldn’t be her first choice. She looked him over. He obviously did something white collar judging by his build, or lack thereof, and attire. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and red tie and sported a mischievous grin on his face as he looked down at Sophie as she leaned on the bar, cupping her drink in both hands.
“He’ll do,” she thought, a bit disappointed at her current debacle.
She had to feed, the most intense, mind blowing, jaw-dropping high her race could experience...and she couldn’t even enjoy it. Ignorance really is bliss, she thought.
“Fake it ‘til you make it,” she reminded herself.
She straightened up on her stool.
“Better now,” she said with a smile.
His eyes lit up, though he tried to hide it.
“Ready for another?” He asked as he motioned toward her glass.
Sophie gave it some thought, then nodded. The two began talking, and Sophie found that he was quite a harmless guy. He worked as a software engineer, lived alone, and visited his mother, often. He told her that his mom had become quite lonely since his father had passed away, and he made it a point to spend time with her several days a week. Apparently, this was quite a change. He hadn’t seen his mother for three years before his father passed. Obviously, there was bad blood between the two, but he wouldn’t say why, and she didn't ask.
People always did one of two things around Sophie, talked incessantly or didn't talk at all. It was the result of their jittery nerves. Captivating beauty and charisma had a way of doing that to people. You either kept your mouth running to avoid thinking about the high that raced through your mind, or you were too afraid to speak for fear of ruining what just may be the be
st thing to ever happen to you. Of course, they didn't know she was probably the worst thing that could happen.
Donald was one of the talkers. He went on and on about himself. He went by Donnie...yeah...original...had never been married, didn't date much, was a Pisces, and owned his own condo. Mind you, Sophie didn't ask about any of this. Although, in his defense, she did ask what brought him there on a Tuesday.
Careful what you ask for.
After about forty-five minutes of listening to him blab about himself and 5 drinks later Sophie had had enough.
“Donald, you seem like a...really nice guy,” she interjected as she stood up.
“And, that is why I really should be going.”
He let out a solemn sigh and slouched his shoulders.
“The curse of the nice guy,” he mumbled.
“In your case…” she said before finishing the last of her drink.
“...it's a blessing.”
She left him at the bar and headed for the bathroom. It wasn't long before she was glad she had. The woman that stood next to her at the sink was an absolute gem. Dark, long hair, great body, seductive smile, she had it all.
Target acquired.
Sophie slipped a sly grin as she eyed her prey from the corner of her eye. The woman couldn't help but notice her devilish smile and was immediately drawn in.
Like flies to honey.
The two went back to the bar and ordered a drink. The next half hour would be the longest of Sophie’s life. This woman blabbed on and on about the most trivial, mundane things: hair, clothes, fashion, those stupid reality shows about absolutely nothing. She would've had a better time watching paint dry. And her voice...ooooh, this whiny, high pitched shrill of a voice where everything ended in the form of a question.
The thing about feeding was that it meant you consumed everything about that person: their memories, experiences, likes, dislikes....you knew it all.
Yeah....there's no way I’ll have THAT voice inside my head for eternity.
Sophie stood up from her chair.
“If you’ll excuse me...meeting you...was...enlightening.”
Yeah, right. She had seen greater intelligence from ants.
She shot her eyes around the room. Boy, the ‘Couve was sure lacking in variety. Back home there were options galore, tons of people out and about on any given night. But, not here. Her choices were nil.
Bleh…
***
Luce sat in a chair in an office at one of her strip clubs. She eyed a t.v. screen that fed live footage of the basement cell that held Zadok. She feathered her finger against her lower lip as she pondered. Sophie and Luce had been through a lot. They often agreed on policy, action-plans, and everything in between, though usually for different reasons. Both had protested the punishment bestowed upon Cain, Sophie for ethical reasons and Luce for the sheer absurdity. Sophie claimed that instilling a barbaric person with carnivorous instincts would only lead to further barbaric acts. Rehabilitation was what was needed. This person needed to be taught what the other options were and why they were more advantageous for himself and others. In other words, enlightenment led to a better person, and thus a better society whereas savage punishments only led to more savagery. For Luce, what the Watchers were purporting lacked sense in a more obvious manner. Yes, if you wanted to make a statement to prevent others from committing such crimes in the future, you made it. “Don’t kill or this will happen to you.” But, if the goal was to have no more murders, then disciplining murder by creating a murderer was just plain stupid. It lacked any sense.
So, when it all came down to it, Sophie and Luce were on the same team, with basically similar arguments, just coming from different angles. And usually, that’s how they were...different reasons leading to the same end.
Centuries and centuries of being stuck on the planet made Luce aware of two things. One: Sophie was someone she had the utmost respect for and she valued their friendship deeply. Two: She was pretty much always right. Years and years of watching people had crafted an innate ability to read them. All it took was a few moments. The way a person sat in a chair, for example: slouched, leaning, relaxed, stiff, fidgety...could tell you a lot about a person. Add to it their facial expressions, speech, what they talked about and how they said it, what their eyes focused on as they spoke and she could pretty much write a book about them.
This was what perplexed her. She knew how to read people like the back of her hand, and she knew Sophie even better, but this, she didn’t get. Luce watched as Sophie harbored Zadok in her home for two days. And, to Luce’s surprise, for two days Sophie did nothing. She didn’t even call to let her know Zadok was in her custody. For Luce this could only mean two things, love or another one of Sophie’s “righteous” ethical predicaments. Sophie had already made it fairly clear that she didn’t agree with the proposed sentence since it didn’t neatly fit the bill. Zadok had killed two Watchers, but not intentionally. For her, that last part was crucial in making such a decision. However, for Luce, the murder of Zadok’s work partner voided that argument. This was someone close to Zadok. Emotion and ego were obviously at play. She knew Sophie was smart enough to know that.
The only option left was love. Yet, that didn’t fit the bill, either. Sophie had fallen in love before...more than once. Heck, so had Luce, but if you do it enough, eventually, it loses its shine. You could only be smitten so many times before it all just blurs into a, dull, monotonous bore of your energy and time. Just like everything else in life, with repeated exposure, love loses its allure. Along with Luce, Sophie learned this lesson a long time ago. So, how could love be the reason for Sophie’s unusual behavior?
Yes, she was friendly with the Sons before their great schism which made it forbidden for the two races to associate. Still, Sophie had kept in touch with Faelan long after the schism, making it a point to check in and keep abreast of his struggles and achievements, his worries and desires. Although Luce didn’t agree with such contact, she never formally protested. Though she would never say it, she actually found it endearing, a testament to the strength of Sophie’s loyalty. Come hell or high water, she would be there. Now, she wondered if she should have objected to this seemingly harmless behavior. What was her interest in the wolves? What was her interest in Zadok? She knew that Zadok would prove to be extraordinarily powerful. All white wolves were and to be honest, when she first saw Zadok shifting from her wolf form, she knew trouble was in store. There was no way Ralph wouldn’t take advantage of any leverage he harbored to gain more power. Was this how Sophie was involved? Did she want the Sons to gain freedom from the Watchers’ governance? No. That would only mean brutality and death for the masses. The Sons wanted to rule over humans and Watchers, alike. Sophie wouldn’t support that.
Maybe it was love…nah.
***
Sophie waited as Donnie fidgeted with his house key. He dropped it three times before he actually got it in the hole. Nerves had really gotten to him. Sophie took a quiet enjoyment from watching his anxious behavior. She knew why he was nervous. It had nothing to do with distraction and everything to do with preoccupation. He opened the door and motioned for Sophie to enter before him.
“You want something to drink?” Donnie asked as he nervously closed the door and set his keys on the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, sure,” she said as she casually strolled in and surveyed his dwelling.
It was sparse, but clean. He walked around the bar into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. He set it on the counter and grabbed two shot glasses out of the cabinet. The glasses fumbled out of his hand as he went to set them on the counter. Mortified from embarrassment, he quickly tried to pick them up. Sophie waltzed over and gently placed her hand on his. His hands steadied as he sheepishly looked up from the glasses at Sophie. She shot back an alluring grin as she grabbed the vodka and filled the glasses. Chills shot down his spine. She picked up her glass and waited for him to do the same. He followed suit. They
clinked their glasses together and gulped down their shots. Sophie slammed her glass on the counter and gave Donnie a devilish grin. She grabbed him firmly by his tie and backed into the living room, pulling him with her. Her smile grew larger as she turned around and placed his tie over her shoulder. Holding his tie in one hand, she strutted into the bedroom. Donnie willfully followed, mesmerized by her enticing persona.
The two stood facing each other in front of his bed. Donnie started loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Sophie peeked over his shoulder and eyed the master bath.
“How about a shower, first?” she asked playfully.
He cut his head around toward the bathroom door behind him. His shot of courage kicking in, he allowed a cocky grin to slip through his lips.
“Yeah,” he nodded as he turned back towards Sophie.
“Good. You get started. I’ll be in in a sec,” she said.
“Okay,” he said with hesitation. “You’re not gonna rob me blind, and take my kidney are ya?” he asked half playfully, half serious.
Sophie smirked.
“Listen,” she started. “If you don’t want to do this…”
“No, no, no, no,” Donnie quickly cut her off. “You’ll just be a minute, right?” he asked as he slowly backed into the bathroom.
She gave an insistent nod and smiled.
“Okay,” he said and shut the bathroom door.
Sophie heard the water turn on. She solemnly surveyed his bedroom as she contemplated how she wanted to go about this. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to go through with it. She knew she needed to feed. It was a necessary evil, but it didn’t have to be him.
