Artiface of Strength Ch. 10

"Don't get too smug Jeff, my pack managed to crate you up and send you to Barstow."

Jefferson grumbled at that, and let the conversation die a grumpy death.

As the blood alcohol percentage rose within the room, karaoke time began and the fights started. Food was thrown, but not any alcohol; no, they knew that this would be wrong, no wolf was willing to commit a party foul at this blowout-- it might bring them bad luck.

Angry wolves periodically stormed outside to settle their differences, usually returning blackened and bloody, but arm-in-arm several minutes later, all order restored in their world. Chaos had descended, and it was good.

Ja-mul reappeared at the end of hour number five, stepping up to the drum to draw the token for bartender number six. No one was more surprised to see him than John; he'd been unsuccessfully looking for his Di-yin since his conversation with Jefferson. The old man reached into the drum and drew the token that William had expected to see, his own. "Oh wait," Ja-mul declared loudly, "there is a second token here as well; they seem to be stuck together somehow." He then called out, "Florence Yazzie, and William Billington!"

A raucous cheer went up at Ja-mul's announcement, and William took the moment to grab Florence in a fierce embrace, kissing her passionately and only inciting the mob to get even louder.

"Okay Di-yin," William demanded, "Get your old, fugly ass behind that bar and pour drinks for the crowd while I sing a song for my mate!" Ja-mul chuckled and calmly began filling pitchers for the pack as William signaled to Joseph as he took the microphone and the stage. "All right Billington pack, here we go. I know that you've all come here tonight to hear me sing some sappy song for my mate? Haven't you?"

William managed to duck most of the rubble thrown his way, calmly waiting for the rabble to die down before he continued. "But as you well know, if I was to sing a sweet song to this fiery bitch, she'd quite cheerfully kill me. And something you might not know, the fire woman once asked me if I saw Harlequin Romance tattooed across her forehead. Evidently the crazy bitch doesn't want to be coddled; instead, she wants to be taken, and then she wants to be protected like she is the most valuable thing in the entire world... which she is." Will then glanced over to Joseph sitting at the board and said, "My Choctaw friend, fire it up!"

Joseph grinned, no one had thought to call him a Choctaw in years, but he didn't delay, he began flipping switches and the music began to play. He hoped William knew what he was doing-- few had the range to hit the notes in this song. The guitar kicked in and Joseph saw William almost curl around the microphone stand as he let out a howl of desire and launched into the song.

Wound up. Can't sleep, can't do anything right...

Oh since I set my eyes on you.

I tell you the truth...

T-t-t-twistin' like a flame in a slow dance baby.

You're driving me crazy.

Come on little honey...

Come on now.

Fire.

Smoke she is a risin'

"Fire Woman," Beth sent tightly to Carol.

"I think he's trying to get laid," Carol giggled back.

"Oh he's gonna get laid; look at her face. I think it's working," Beth laughed.

Well now, shake it up, you're to blame...

Got me swayin' little honey.

My heart's a ball of burning flame.

Oh yes it is.

Trancin' like a cat on a hot tin shack...

Lord have mercy.

Come on little sister...

Come on and shake it.

Fire. She is a rising...

As William ripped through the chorus, he slowly stepped down from the stage, never missing a note, making love to the microphone as he almost slithered toward his prey. Creeping ever closer to Florence he began crooning to her,

I was thinkin'

What I've been missin'

I'll tell you truthfully,

Well...

The smell of Florence's arousal wafted from her and permeated the room as her lover approached closer and closer, still singing of his need for her.

She's coming close now.

Oh I can feel her.

She's getting close to me...

And I never...

William arrived in front of her and pulled her to him in a fiery embrace, his mouth descending on hers as he took control of her, his tongue demanding entrance. Her will, nonexistent to begin with, crumpled into rubble beneath him as he made love to her mouth in front of her pack.

"Yeah, he's an Alpha, all right," Jefferson said to John.

"If you'd managed to stay sober enough to sing to Carol like that, we wouldn't have been able to ship you," John responded with a grin.

"We didn't have karaoke then, John; Hell, we didn't have electricity."

"We had firewater though," John needled.

"Fuck off, John."

William pushed Florence away from him and spun her back into her chair, striding back to the stage like a conquering warrior, flaunting his dominance and staring at the pack, daring them to get between him and his mate.

Fiiiiire.

Smoke she is a rising.

Fire.

Smoke on the horizon.

"Oh my," said Carol.

"There is no way any one will take him up on that." Beth replied.

"Which poor bastard is slated to challenge him on Monday?" Carol asked.

"Same one they got to draw your token," Beth replied grinning.

"Ha! Serves him right!"

Burnin' out and shake it baby.

Come on and burn it.

I say, send down fire to me...

Send down fire to me...

Send down fire to me...

Fire woman, you're to blame!

Fire woman, you're to blame!

Fire woman, you're to blame!

"Dude, you are so fucked come Monday," Sam laughed to Tristan. What was it that Hanover Fist said in Heavy Metal, "He is gonna tear you into itty-bitsy pieces and bury you alive!"

Tristan changed the subject, "maybe you were right earlier, we need to get him plowed and ship him off like you did with Jefferson."

Sam looked over at Tom and asked, "How many has he had?"

"Less than half of what he's been sent. Both he and Flo have been dumping drinks all night. The last water pitcher they sent back was mostly vodka and gin."

"Venom!" All three wolves said simultaneously at about the same time William ended the song and the crowd erupted into wild applause and cheering. The scent of arousal was thick as a smoke cloud as it drifted through the room as more than one un-mated female wished that this wolf was here for her instead.

"Back off you miserable bitches; this one is mine," Florence said challengingly and grabbed William fervently, making sure that his scent covered her.

"There's no way she tops that," John chuckled to the other Alphas.

"Any clue what she's planning," Carol responded.

"Yeah, and I thought she'd kill with it, but now I'm not so sure; he was damned good."

"...and he did that cold," John pointed out. "Remember, he didn't have a clue that he'd have to sing until dinner tonight.

"He must have already known the song," Carol guessed.

"Then he already had her in mind before he ever met her," Beth replied.

This produced thoughtful looks upon the faces surrounded the table, although John's look might be better described as stricken. He covered it up quickly though when Jefferson seemed to catch it. Jeff never had a chance to follow up on what he saw though as the first few notes of Ministry's 'Just one Fix' began thumping from the speakers behind the bar.

"Here we go," said John, glad to be able to change the subject. He pointed to where Sam and Tom were now tending bar; Ja-mul was no longer in sight. "They've booted the old man and now they are going after William. This ought to be good."

"How do you know?"

"They always play that song when someone makes a 'venom' challenge, and a venom order is always for two. Look..." he said, pointing to where Tristan was approaching William with two empty hi-ball glasses.

The room was still as everyone in the room except the visiting pack members knew what was about to take place. Although the music was pounding and no one could hear the exchange, the pack knew the challenge word for word. "Just one Fix."

Tristan slammed the glasses down on William's table and then began gesturing angrily at him before shifting into his hybrid form, exploding through his clothing in the process. He then gave a challenging howl and stomped back to the bar.

"What the Hell?" Jefferson gasped. "Hybrid?"

"Stupid men," Beth replied, "Human form can't handle the bee stings, and wolves can't hold the glass; so they came up with this. Don't worry though; no one has died...yet."

"Your pack has gotten weirder since we left, John" Carol said dryly.

"Sam was exposed to technology," John sighed.

William stood up, stopping to give Florence a kiss before leaving her side. He grabbed the empty glass that Tristan had left for him and headed to the bar. As he reached the bar, Tom switched off the music so the entire pack could hear the exchange.

"Do you know how this works?" asked Tom.

"I think I have the basics. Florence explained it to me when were on our way over. Smiley here," he said indicating Tristan, who was still in his hybrid form, saliva dripping from his mouth. "Has challenged me to see who can remain conscious the longest. We add bee venom and tons of alcohol, and if everyone lives through it, whoever stays up the longest... wins. Close enough?"

Tom laughed and looked into Florence's eyes, saying, "My niece is smart. I bet she also told you that you are due to whip this pool fool's ass on Monday. Didn't she?"

"And then you and Sam next," William said, grinning.

"Yes, my Alpha," Tom replied, respectfully, bowing his head. "But, he knows that as well. Don't kill him," he said, pointing at Tristan. "He's done everything that no one else wanted to do."

"I got it. Don't kill him. Tough and smart, does what he's told. He's my Beta. He works for me."

"Good enough," replied Sam, and then indicating all of the bottles behind the bar, said, "What's your poison?"

"Fill the challenge glass with Single Barrel Malt, plus give me two double-shots of ever-clear, on the side."

"Two shots of 181 and Bourbon. Gotcha," replied Sam, filling the order.

Tom whistled in disbelief, "Umm, you know Tristan's glass is just full of Newcastle, right? You are giving him a major alcohol advantage?"

William just grinned.

"Okay, it's your funeral." Tom answered. Then he turned to Sam and yelled, "Get the crate ready, Sam!"

As Sam filled the glasses, Tom began to bang his fist on the hive, making sure the bees were extremely agitated. He then looked to Will and asked, "Any last words?"

"Nope, I'm good. By the way, has anyone ever done this challenge in human form before?"

"Will, there's no way. The human body will react very badly to the bee stings."

"Just watch," grinned Will, before turning to Tristan and saying, "You are up, Smiley."

Tristan turned to Will and roared in challenge, but then he reached for his glass and downed it quickly. He then leapt over the bar and jammed his hand into the honey barrel next to the hive, coating his hand and forearm liberally in honey, before holding it aloft, before the crowd. After waiting for them to roar their acceptance, he reached through the netting, and stuck his honey-covered arm into the hive. Pulling it out, Tristan raised it to the crowd again, but now his fist was covered in bees. The pack again roared its approval, and then Tristan opened his sharp toothed maw and jammed his entire fist into his mouth, slurping off the honey and being stung repeatedly by the bees as they were eaten.

Say, "Hi," to the Lady for me, William mumbled as he watched Tristan slide in and out of anaphylactic shock.

A large electronic timer behind the bar began timing Tristan's ability to stand.

"You people have lost your minds," Carol said to the entire table.

"Worst hangover ever," John groaned.

"You've tried that shit?" Jefferson said, astounded.

"I lost a bet, and then I lost the challenge too, dammit."

"...and this is reasonable behavior?" Carol asked, laughing.

"Come on Carol. How many peyote-using tribes did we meet on our way here?"

She wasn't listening to John however; she had already returned her attention back to the bar where William was preparing to drink his cocktail of grain alcohol and hornet venom. Will slammed his fist on the table and yelled, "Semper Fi!" before slamming down his single-barrel, but he did more than slam it down. Before he swallowed the last of it, he swirled it around in his mouth, coating every bit of it, finally noisily swallowing the last of the alcohol with a grimace.

He then leaped over the counter just as Tristan had, and repeated each of his movements, with only one exception; he coated his left, rather than his right hand with the honey. After he held his fist aloft to the crowd for the second time, he filled his mouth with the ever-clear. Coating his mouth with the bourbon had almost made the burn of the ever-clear tolerable. His human form wouldn't taste anything for at least a week, but at least he could hold this alcohol in his mouth now.

He removed Ja-mul's Bic from his back pocket and set it to its highest setting. Flicking it on, he placed the lighter in front of his mouth and released the alcohol in a burst. The explosive blast created when the alcohol ignited was enough to incinerate most of the bees instantly, burning their wings off and leaving behind only blackened carcasses and foul smelling smoke.

William then turned to the pack, and more specifically Florence, as he began to suggestively lick the heat-glazed honey from his fist. "It doesn't taste nearly as sweet as you do darlin'," he said in a deep voice.

"You are gonna have to get some new rules for that challenge, John," Jefferson said as he saw Tristan's eyes roll back in his head as he fell to the floor, his timer showing exactly two minutes and fifty-seven seconds.

"Pity, he just missed the pack record too." John replied dryly.

William walked back to his mate and began to share his honey with her. The smell of envious arousal only swelled within the bar as the rest of the pack watched the young couple licking the honey from William's fist.

Sam never bothered to complain that William wasn't eating all of his own bees, he just stopped Will's timer, and then directed Oliver and Stan to drag Tristan's body outside to sleep it off. Will never noticed Tristan leave; he was entranced by the sight of Florence licking the honey from his fingers while she stared into his eyes. She extended her tongue and placed it on his wrist, slowly working up his palm to the base of his fingers, and then to their end where she began seductively sucking on his fingertips, never once breaking eye contact with him.

Thoughts? They had none; for Florence and William, there wasn't another wolf in the bar. Their entire worlds stared back into their eyes, but life has a funny way of interfering with love.

Badger teams one, two, and three had easily breeched the undefended perimeter of the pack's territory and were now approaching the clubhouse. With night-vision goggles and their weapons set to full-auto, these teams were not on Billington land looking for a firefight. They were there only to do reconnaissance, but they were prepared if things went sidewise.

Team one was on point. Teams two and three flanked team one in case things went really badly. Team one was barely within good video range when Oliver and Stan dragged poor Tristan, still in his hybrid form, and dumped him, rather unceremoniously, face first into the parking lot with the bikes. Fortunately for team one, the wind was in their faces and Stan got no opportunity to catch their scent. Stan wasn't too bright, but he'd always had one of the best noses in the pack.

Badger one had no idea how lucky they were with the wind's direction, or for that matter, the fact that the wind's direction mattered to their lives at all, but the wind did allow them to remain undetected by the pack while Tristan was being deposited.

"What the fuck is that?" one of the video operators asked his team-leader.

"Must be a costume party, but look at that heat-signature. That guy must be over two meters tall."

"Chief, he's out cold. What on Earth took him down? Do we really want to be seen by whatever is in there? If this mission turns into a bloodbath, we will have a huge problem."

"Pull back, I think we have what we need."

"Gladly!"

Leader one made the call and all three teams pulled back immediately, moving directly for the park land boundary. Back inside the Shunkaha, Florence had finished cleaning the remainder of the honey from William's fingers and was now sitting in his lap in one of the iron bar stools in front of the bar. William was enjoying a deep kiss with his mate when he heard the 'snick' and fell the cuff tightly restrain his wrist. His eyes opened and he saw the victorious look on Florence's face, as well as the conniving looks on the faces of Sam and Tom as each of them cuffed one of his hands to the heavy chair.

"Betrayed," William said sadly.

"She's our number two, you are still unranked" Tom said grinning, "Of course we followed her orders."

"Besides, we thought the venom would take you out," Sam said, laughing.

"So what now, my love?" William asked Florence.

She leaned in and gave him a burning kiss before pulling herself away and saying, "Sit there like a good boy while I go get changed into my outfit. Tom will give you beer if you are thirsty, he may have to get in the ring with you on Monday."

William looked at Tom who only grinned back; Tom wasn't afraid, he knew that he stood zero chance of beating Will, but he also knew that Will wasn't vengeful. Tom shrugged and said, "What brand were you drinking? Still Newcastle?"

"You'd better bring water; I slammed down all of that bourbon during the challenge," William said, watching his mate's behind swaying erotically as she walked away. "...and I'm betting that I'm going to need a clear head for this."

"Count on it," said Joseph as he sidled up to where William was bound. "So how did you know that I was Choctaw?"

"You have the look; and I met a few of y'all when I was active. If you speak the language, I'm pretty sure that my grandfather knows some of it. He knows a crazy number of dialects. He told me the story of the code-talkers when I was young."

"That was a long time ago," Joseph responded, clearly reminiscing. That was before I was a wolf though. I wish there was a way to go back to Europe and see it again now that we are not at war."

"Talk to Ja-mul; he'd love to hear your story."

"I will; I have not had the chance to speak my native language since we faked my death back in Oklahoma. No one here speaks it."

The two men talked a bit longer before Joseph's pocket emitted a buzzing sound and he indicated that this was his cue. He welcomed William to the pack and then walked back to his board, where he started flipping switches and turning dials. The music stopped again and the lights in the bar began to dim until they were all out except for a few footlights on the stage. Joseph took the microphone and started slowly, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Madams et Misseurs, warriors and bitches... tonight there's to be a mating. The warrior princess to her captive barbarian; the protector to his muse; and the Were to the People, and most of us are lucky enough," he said, directing the spotlight on William, "to get to see it unbound. Well, most of us," he said to general laughter.

"Madams, ladies... bitches of the pack, Madam Yazzie has requested that you take this time to strip her mate. In fact... she has suggested that you enjoy the experience. Touch him. Grope him. Rub your desperate selves all over him. Get it out of your system tonight, because, she says, if she ever smells any of you bitches on him again, you will draw your last breath. So feel free, and Florence says that you can leave his hat on."