Artiface of Strength Ch. 10

"Yes... well, ahem...someone was suggesting some things to me, but I'm trying to find the loopholes in what was suggested."

Florence giggled at this, saying, "Good luck with that, and if you are done chatting, we can sneak out now. You have a song to find."

"Let's go," he said as he almost leapt to his feet, he was already considering song choices.

"...and away they go," said Beth with a grin. "What did you tell him?"

"Drink lots of water...and that he was doomed!"

This time, the bitches' kicks hit the legs of John's chair instead of his legs; he had gotten smarter and tucked his legs off to the side.

"I hope you broke your toes," John said with a grin. "Carol, after your party, how long did it take Jeff to find his way back home? Two days wasn't it?"

"You are a bastard, John," Carol huffed.

"I still can't figure out how he got into that shipping crate, or how it got loaded on that train. Boy, you must have really been drunk," John said musingly while looking at Jefferson.

"And you wonder why we moved to Virginia? It was almost far enough away from you and Sam to be safe," Jeff responded while smiling. "And despite what you were claiming, you were not ready to retire yet."

Jefferson paused for a moment, glancing up to the riser where William and Florence had eaten, and said, "Are you ready to retire now John? It's pretty clear that those two won't be contained for very long. She's the toughest bitch that the Lady has ever spawned and he's clearly the warrior sent to protect her. Hell, I knew that I could never defeat you, and yet, I still had the urge to run my own pack. I have not seen him fight, but from what you are telling me, he's going to give you a run for your money. You said that Florence almost beat you...and then you say that he is even better? You'd better make up your mind pretty quickly."

John smiled, saying, "Yeah, I think I'm ready to go now, so we'd better have our fun with him while we still can. Did you bring a copy of the rail schedule with you; I'm pretty sure that Sam has a shipping crate."

"You'd better NOT!" the two women said at once.

"Silly bitches," John said with a grin, "thinking they can talk us warriors out of our fun." Then he whistled for Oliver as he held his tankard aloft, it was almost dry.

Neither woman was really upset at the men's antics; they'd expected every bit of their behavior. They were not especially worried about what they'd heard; they had their own plans ready to go. The girls just grinned knowingly at one another and followed the 'brave warriors' out of the community hall.

Now, over at the Shunkaha, things were heating up nicely. The music was already getting loud, and the pack's Betas were already drinking. The kitchen staff had delivered rolling racks full of appetizers for the evening, and there were an uncountable number of Jello-shots ready to go for the party-goers.

Sam and Tom looked around and decided everything was ready. As the senior Betas of the pack, pulling all of this together had fallen on them. Tristan was helpful, but he was a bit too green to be unleashed on a party of this importance without direction, although he had been pressed into duty as the chief liaison between the deviant brains of the party hosts and the actual workforce. As the three wolves drank their first beer, Sam reached behind the bar and tapped the well-sealed beehive before asking, "So, which one of us gets to challenge him?"

Tristan sighed, responding, "We will see how this goes tonight, but I'm thinking that it almost has to be me. He beat me out of the bitch, and since I'm the low Beta, challenges should start with me...unless one of you wants to take me off the hook?"

"He's smart for a new Beta," Tom grinned.

"Kinda pretty too," Sam replied.

"I hate you two," Tristan replied, clearly not meaning it.

Sam chuckled at this, replying, "Oh dear, yet another Beta who hates us. How many does that make now, Tom?"

"What did we decide about that Seminole back in 1690?"

"I think we decided that he didn't count. John ended up not promoting him after what you did to him."

"Then... if you count Tristan, I think..."

"Never mind," snapped Tristan. "Evidently, the answer is all of them."

"Pretty much," replied Tom.

This discussion would likely have continued for a while longer, but Pamela interrupted, asking if they were sure that her staff had prepared enough food for the evening. Sam quickly assured the woman that there looked to be plenty for everyone, and in any event, it was likely that when the food ran out, the entire pack would go drunken hunting. Pamela smiled at this; the pack had not gone on a good drunken hunt in years. So many of their traditions had suffered along with their mating drought, it was good to see that some of the old ways might be coming back.

She turned to her crew and yelled, "All right girls, you heard him; the drinking light is lit! Shove these stupid men out of the way and start pouring. Shawna, you take beertender until we draw the first name."

"Will do Pam," Shawna said, pushing the Betas from behind the bar.

The women had shown up and were willing to do the work, so the Betas were quick to scurry away, thanking the Goddess that they'd gotten out of it. As their presence wasn't required, they wandered over to the Clubhouse entryway where the prize drum and pegboard were located. Noticing that the kitchen staff's tags were already in the drum, all three Betas quickly located their tags and tossed them in as well. Sam was pleased to see that William's shiny, new tag was hanging on the board in the 'unranked' section. He also knew that it probably wouldn't hang there long.

Smiling as they saw that all of their work was done, the three did what they always did when there was nothing pressing; they sat down and started to do some serious drinking. They were content to wait for the loving couple to arrive, and as they drank, they speculated as to how much trouble they could cause William in just one evening. They didn't have long to wait however, and even less time to plot. Pamela had seen to that by arranging to feed the couple first, it was her gift to Florence; all of the women were rooting for William.

William and Florence walked into the clubhouse hand in hand and were met in the doorway by Sam who hastily jumped to his feet and began explaining the Clubhouse rules to William, but Will cut him off almost immediately, stressing that Florence had already explained everything during their walk to the Clubhouse. William then reached passed Sam and took his new tag from the board, fingered it thoughtfully and then said, "Hmm, how odd, it seems to be a little sticky on this side."

"Must be the fresh paint," Sam said quickly.

Will continued, ignoring Sam's excuses, "and there is a sharp bit here where my name is affixed. I wonder if the other tags have these issues."

He then began examining the other tags that were still on the board, saying, "Nope, these are all quite smooth; it's a good thing that I noticed this flaw, someone might have gotten a splinter or something when they rooted around in the barrel."

He then took the tag over to the bar area and began polishing the tag before he was willing to drop it into the hopper. "Busted," Tom sent, grinning at Sam.

"You warned him, didn't you?" Sam hissed accusingly at Florence.

"Nope," grinned Florence, "Although I did tell him the story about how Beth filled the hopper with fake tokens with my name on them. Sam, what you've got to remember is that he grew up with him," she said, pointing at Ja-mul, who was sitting at the bar, now quite cheerfully flirting with the kitchen staff. "Growing up with that would make anyone naturally suspicious of his friends."

"Good point," laughed Tom to the grumpy Sam.

"There...fixed it," said Will as he returned from the bar with the token in his hand. He then tossed it into the hopper and said offhandedly, "Florence, I threw your token in there too. Now, where is that Karaoke list, I want to see if my song is on there. If not, your tech geeks are gonna have to go online and find it for me."

Tristan watched as the two lovers walked away and then whispered, "Good luck with getting this one to hate you two; it looks like he may be immune to your crap."

"Ha! Challenge accepted!" Sam said with a swagger.

"So, does that mean that you are conceding your spot to him, Tristan?" Tom said clearly amused.

Tristan snorted, "I've seen him sparring with Flo. I might... might be able to take him as a human after he destroys me as a wolf, but by that time, he will already have smoked right passed you two."

"Yeah, there is that." Tom conceded.

"Pft," Sam snorted, "You two give up too easily. The trick is making sure that he is too hung over to fight on Monday."

"Or out of state," laughed Tom. "Like we did with Jefferson!"

"He'd already beaten you anyway." Sam shot back. "But still...it was fun watching Carol freaking out until he made his way back to the pack."

Tristan hadn't heard this story, so he asked, "What did you do to him?"

Sam and Tom both laughed and began explaining to Tristan how they had gotten Jefferson roaring drunk and then shipped him out of state on a slow train. Soon all three Betas were laughing at the memory, so none of them saw William open his palm and show Florence that he still had both of their tokens. Florence bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

"What did you drop into the hopper? I know that I heard something fall in there."

William sent back, "I just waited 'til they weren't looking and tapped the bottom of the hopper. That creaky old thing makes so much noise; I didn't think that they would notice. As usual, they were too busy talking."

"Serves them right for trying to cheat!" Florence sent back, laughing.

"Those guys are amateurs, but look out, here comes the professional." William said aloud, indicating that his grandfather was approaching.

Ja-mul walked up and held out his hand, palm up. "Trust me," was all that he said.

William didn't flinch; he just dropped the two tokens into the old man's hand without complaint. Ja-mul grinned at his grandson and then pointed at the jukebox, "It's an internet jukebox, and it has pretty much everything ever recorded; go play 'Wild Hearted Son', by the Cult."

Will just laughed as Ja-mul walked away, saying, "That was one of his hints; the smug old bastard thinks he knows which way I am leaning tonight. He's probably right too!"

"About your song?"

"Yeah, he knows me too well. Hold on for a minute while I find his song. He'll want the version with the chanting intro on it. Go figure, the old crook wants to hear another shaman chanting. That's how the song starts."

"What is he going to do with our tokens? And what did he mean by 'trust me'?"

"He wasn't so much asking for our trust... as promising that he was worthy of it, you know... for once. I have no clue what he intends to do with them, but look on the bright side, this way we won't have to hide them. They are out of sight, out of mind!"

Florence giggled as she saw Ja-mul giving them the thumbs up when his song began playing. He'd tucked the tokens away somewhere and was now calmly sitting with the Betas while they drank.

As the music began to get louder, Tom asked Ja-mul, "I have not heard this song in a long time; is it a favourite of yours?"

"No, but I think my grandson is planning on singing one of their songs for his mate later, and I thought I've give him an omen; the fact that the chanting was on it was a nice touch. Have you guys got any idea what Florence will be singing to him?"

Tom thought about it for a moment before saying, "She's a huge Lindi Ortega fan, but she likes Gretchen Wilson too. If I had to make a bet, I'd bet on one of those two, but there is really no telling what she'll sing, her tastes are pretty diverse. If you really need to know, I'm sure we can lean on Oklahombi, he'll have the file waiting for her."

"Oklahombi? That's a mouthful. Who is he?"

"Call him Joe; he's our resident tech geek. You have not met him yet."

"Naw, I'll just wait and see what she sings when everyone else does, but why are you so sure that I haven't met Joe?"

"He thinks that he's a vampire," Sam said snorting.

"He keeps midnight hours," Tom corrected. "He's our security and tech guy. He isn't one of our warriors, but he is invaluable anyway; he just isn't very personable. He will be here shortly as he'll be running the karaoke equipment tonight. Seems like there are always a few singers looking for some song that we don't have and he's very good at finding things."

"Stealing things, you mean" Sam added.

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Ja-mul laughed.

The Betas would have continued their conversation, but the rest of the pack began to stream into the Clubhouse and Sam and Tom were forced into duty policing the pack hopper. Ja-mul repressed a grin as he saw wolf after wolf had to be persuaded to drop their tokens into the bin. Evidently there was not a single wolf in the entire pack who wanted any part of pulling bartender duty tonight. They kept saying something about spoiling their party.

There was a bigger surprise when the Alphas walked through the door. Beth produced two extremely old tokens from her pocket, and declared that visitors were not immune from duty behind the bar when they were ex-pack members. She then winked at Carol and Jefferson and tossed their dusty tokens into the pot. Ja-mul had to repress another grin when he saw that these tokens were of a much heavier construction than the current lot. It wouldn't be hard to find these tokens, even blind-folded. He was even more amused when neither Jefferson nor Carol bothered to complain, and he wondered how people this gullible managed to get to the top of the food chain.

And then the party began in earnest.

The pack had descended, en masse, upon the Clubhouse, and things got very loud, very quickly. A bartender was drawn, and wolves began to howl. They danced and they sang. They blew off the steam that had been accumulating for decades. They all felt that this was their new beginning.

The music was turned up, and then thirty minutes later, it was turned up again. The dance floor was full, as were the pool tables. After an hour, a new bartender was drawn from the drum, and everyone was a little surprised that there had not been any fights yet. The night was young.

Ja-mul sat on his barstool watching what was going on around him, not quite believing the sheer volume of alcohol that was being consumed, and how little impact that it seemed to be having on the members of the pack. He'd heard that they metabolized it quickly, but he'd really had no idea. The pack had already put down enough firewater to have driven his previous tribe into an alcoholic coma, and he briefly wondered what William's life would have been like if his own father would have had a wolf-like constitution.

Hour two ended, and hour three began as Madam Alpha Carol was selected when Tristan grinned and drew her name out of the hopper. She then calmly took her place behind the counter with a certain amount of regal dignity and grace, choosing to ignore the cat-calls and the peanuts thrown in her direction. She endured the abuse with aplomb, merely directing some of her pack's women to take control of the jukebox, and to make sure that they played every single song that they'd ever heard that involved cheating men. It was not long before 'Goodbye Earl' began playing and Carol began mixing drinks like a pro.

Eventually, she got to where Ja-mul sat. He indicated the juke box and said, "So you know that they cheated then?"

Giving the old human a jaundiced look, she took his order and said, "With those hundred year old tokens, I knew that it would be one of us. I do admit to being surprised that it was the young Beta who drew our name out of the hopper though, he doesn't even really know us. Sam has gotten sneakier."

"Not sneaky enough," Ja-mul said grinning as he opened his palm and showed her that he had Florence and William's tokens.

A short burst of laughter escaped from Carol before she regained her composure long enough to stare into the man's eyes and say, "You really are a shaman, aren't you? They told me that they were afraid that you were real."

"Ja-mul Yazzie, at your service," he said, nodding his head mockingly.

"So what are you going to do with those?" Carol said, indicated the tokens.

"They have to sing later; we might as well let them enjoy the party until then."

"Seems reasonable, but I've noticed that you've parked your ass here at the bar all night long, and that you are not drinking. What are you waiting on?"

"You." Ja-mul said.

"Me? Why?"

"You are Jefferson are going to have to take over the Weres for a while. The Lady says that you should trust yourselves and just step into the job. Preparing for this time is why she gave you your own pack. It trained you for this moment."

"Shit."

Ja-mul didn't say any more, he just reached down and picked up his ice water and took a drink.

"You are the devil," Carol finally said.

"Jefferson was the best Beta that John ever trained, and the Lady noticed that you were nice enough not to kill John and Sam when they sent Jefferson off to the middle of nowhere on your mating night."

"So it was those two! Where was Tom?"

"Acting as the lookout, but I'll deny every word of this if you call them on it."

"Okay, you've proved your point. Is there anything else that I need to know?"

Ja-mul pointed down to the other end of the bar and said, "Yeah, those wolves over there are getting impatient, so you'd better go serve them. Oh, and the real trouble won't start until tomorrow, so you can just enjoy the rest of the party before you worry about any of this." He then stood up and walked away from the bar before Carol could say anything more, and Carol found herself understanding why John had always hated Shaman so intensely.

Hour three ended, and another bartender was chosen. Carol made her way directly to Jefferson and began to tell him of her conversation with Ja-mul. Not that William or Florence was able to notice any of this; they'd been surrounded by well-wishers all evening long. The unmated wolves in particular were very eager to flock around the couple, hoping that some of their mating luck would rub off on them too. True to form though, Sam had maintained a wide berth between himself and the couple; he had avoided this mating thing for over six centuries.

So the couple did not see the exchange between Jefferson and Carol, nor did they see the worried looks on Beth and John's faces as they were brought into the conversation. What the two did see was drink after drink...after drink. John hadn't lied to William about that, it was as if the entire pack were trying to kill the lovers with alcohol. Will had listened to his Alpha's advice however and had made sure that their table received a steady stream of pitchers of ice water throughout the night. He'd also gotten Flo's cooperation in what he thought of as 'operation drink disposal', an exercise is hauling off as many drinks as wolvenly possible.

When one of them headed to the bathroom, two drinks would disappear. When snacks were fetched, two more drinks were gone. Several glasses were 'inadvertently' spilled. Clear beverages tended to be poured into empty water pitchers when no one was looking. All things considered, and despite the many shots that they couldn't avoid, neither Will nor Florence were even half as intoxicated as their tormentors. And as their friends got drunker, it got easier to avoid actually consuming anything alcoholic.

Both Jefferson and John had been watching the couple working together and were impressed by the teamwork they were witnessing. The Alphas realized that other than Ja-mul who had drank only water before disappearing entirely; there probably were not two less intoxicated wolves in the entire pack, even though they were supposedly the targets for the evening. "Look, they are making a game of it," Jefferson said. "They are running rings around everyone in your pack, John."