Wolves' Den

James had found a den for them. He had turned an owner of a second hand store in the darkest recesses of Knockturn because there was access to a deep tunnel leading to the catacombs below the city streets. It was dry here, and with a few enchantments, it was warm and well lit. The stone walls radiated heat when he needed it to, but, typically, it was comfortable year round.

He enchanted the great room to have fireplaces on either end and a large stone firepit in the middle. The cooking would be done over the fireplaces, and there was a food preparation area in one corner of the great room. There was one long trestle table with long benches between the north fireplace and the center firepit. When he'd found the catacombs, he'd simply put wooden stools or large logs in front of the firepit, but there was furniture now that could be placed around the firepit, around the south fireplace, and throughout the rooms in the den. The furniture pieces in the den were all winnings from the people he'd had eliminated. He didn't care if it matched. If any decorating were to be done, that would be up to Moira. He was more interested in function.

He had taken the niches in the catacombs and made extra rooms. Bedrooms for pack members, for the cubs, when they came, for storage, for a large pantry, for baths, for training, and for 'persuasion.' He'd also included a couple of rooms for the wolves to amuse themselves.

Tonight, he had brought back, in three large black cloth bags, a large beef cow that he had divided into pieces manageable to carry. The fourth bag he had held bread. He brought the bags down into the den and dropped them on the floor for the women to gather and prepare for feeding the pack. The pack came and attempted to descend on the meat, and James stepped in front of them, growling, warning them off.

"We eat together," James said. "You all know the rules. Moira, come get them in line and get the females to prepare the food." There wasn't much to prepare. The pack preferred their meat raw. James insisted it at least look like there had been some forethought. He wanted the meat cut well and placed on the pewter platters he'd brought back from some country estate. He had kegs of ale for them to drink, and pewter tankards. Sometimes, as in tonight, there was bread.

"James," a seductive blond sidled up to him and caressed his large muscular upper arms, her voice silky and alluring, "you promised me a prime cut tonight, remember." And he had--if she had managed to get some cash. That usually meant robbery or assault or more drastic means. He had been specific. If she brought him the cash, then, yes, she would get one of the prime cuts tonight. If not, it would be the usual pecking order. He would get the top cut, and Moira would get her choice. Then, he usually chose to let Moira decide who ate the better cuts and who got larger but less savory seconds.

Malmuira Crawford was no pushover. She might be a woman and to certain men that meant that she was there to serve them whenever and wherever they wanted, but that was not the case with her. She hated anyone who thought that, who thought that she was their property merely because she was a woman. They thought she would be loyal to them, but that was a big mistake. The only person she would ever be loyal to was James, and there was a specific reason for that.

Anyone else who thought she would be anything near loyal to them usually didn't last long at all. She made sure of it. There were few who survived their thoughts and in the process they became loyal to her and swore to never think she was just a mere woman who couldn't do anything for herself. She liked to keep it that way, with people fearing her regardless of her gender.

Moira nodded at James' instructions and moved to face the pack members. She looked at the females who stood by her and nodded for them to gather up the meat to prepare it. The males didn't seem all that pleased with having to wait, much less having to get in a line to get their food. "We have rules. If you don't like them, you're better off to us dead. I'm sure none of you want to die, do you?" she growled at them in a cold voice.

Obviously, none of them would really die, at least not yet but she had to remind them why they feared her and James. Moira's eyes narrowed as she watched the blonde walk over to James and she let out a low defensive growl that she was sure could be heard. Maybe she was a little too defensive when it came to James, but you couldn't really blame her.

It didn't take long to get the meat ready for the rest of the pack and when it was, Moira turned to them all and growled, "In a line. Now." They all slowly moved with low mutters and Moira looked at James. He always for the first - the top of it - and she waited for someone to give him his part before allowing the rest of them to get their meal.

James took his place at the head of the table, looking out over his pack.  The blond who wanted James' attentions was quick to serve him a plate of meat and a tankard of ale. He knew how to keep the attentions of the women in the pack who weren't so dominant. He gave her a little pat on her backside as she put the plate in front of him, and when he did, she blushed and smiled at him.  

He smiled and glanced at Moira.  They both enjoyed the game of it.  Any affection they showed the others was merely a tool, a mechanism.  It was to recruit and retain pack members.  

He needed a bigger, more powerful pack. They had to turn humans, lots of them, and quickly.  He had also begun giving serious thoughts to using the other women for breeding. He needed Moira to be strong and fit and battle ready. But there were others who wanted to serve and didn't have the strength to survive the first skirmish.  Those--those women needed to be having cubs. Lots of them.  And as soon as possible.  

His last assignment to Moira was to recruit younger members. Members who could fight and/or breed.  He had begun rewarding members for training, fighting or breeding. He had told Moira they needed more "stock." He would give them some of the spoils of his victims. Well, the pieces he didn't save for himself or for Moira.

"What's the news for the day?" James asked his pack. He'd been gone from his pack for not quite a day and a half. Hunting sometimes took time. "I had a rather interesting time of it. But your reports first. My news can wait."

Moira decided to let the rest of the pack members give James any news they thought was important. Though not much had happened during his time away from them. Nothing that they had actually done anyways, she'd gotten two new wolves for the pack, one of which was in her room right now. The boy hadn't come willingly at first but she'd 'persuaded' him to shortly afterwards.

Right now all she was waiting for was him to come stumbling out of the room when he realized that he might be a bit peckish. He hadn't eaten anything for almost half a day and she knew boys his age, at sixteen, normally ate a lot more than he seemed to want to eat now. As if on cue, the boy walked out of her room, the collar of his shirt messed up almost shredded and a bite mark could be seem through the shreds.

Moira smirked, looking at James before she stood up and motioned for Dylan to come to her. Without any words to anyone, and a semi-blank expression on his face, he walked toward her and she seated him beside her. "As you can tell.." she turned her attention to James once more, and made the marks on Dylan's neck more visible. "I've gotten us a new recruit. He isn't the only one though." she smiled at him, running her hand through Dylan's hair.

He listened to the members' reports. There appeared to be a be a bit more slinking about and spying than James would have liked. Not as much action. But some of the members of his pack were young and needed training.

A little brunette with enchanting almond shaped eyes hadn't said much, letting everyone else speak. James had almost questioned when one of the older pack members had brought her in and then had turned her. James didn't truly know if she was going to be useful. She was very pretty, though, so he hadn't turned her out.

He finished his meal and sat back putting one foot up on the corner of the table, and then taking a drink from his tankard. "And what did you do with yourself while I was gone?" he asked her.

"I...bought...clothes," she said softly, afraid of his wrath if she displeased him. "I...bought them...for...for..." She stopped speaking, afraid.

"For?" he asked.

"I bought them for breeding," she said in a rush. "I...thought I might be good at that." The older men laughed at the mere child of a wolf, who seemed to cower and hide at the table.

"Oh," he said. "Well, then. Well done. Did you have a male in mind?"

"Um...no," she said, barely above a whisper. It was rather obvious she knew nothing about breeding either. James didn't want some of the seedier males damaging her. He wanted someone capable of understanding the importance of creating good cubs. Perhaps she needed one of the quieter, following males.

"Moira," James said. "Find her a suitable match. I trust your judgement for her. And you have some conquests of your own? Excellent." He smiled at her, pleased with her. Her newest lad was young and strong, and the boy appeared to be completely infatuated with Moira. "I trust you to make sure he's trained properly yourself? I think you should feed the boy before you resume his training, though."

He looked at them all and specifically at Moira. "We must be careful. They know I exist. They don't know about you all yet, but the humans know about me.

"I was coming from a..turning. She should arrive soon. She's waiting for me to go back and get her. But on the way back, I ran into that damned Lupin woman and her cursed stone. I have to get that damned thing. I almost had it the night before last."

"I read about that in the paper," one of the older males said, lighting a cigarette. "You damned near killed the Lupin woman. Why didn't you finish it? You left her alive by a breath? Why? Why not finish her off?"

"I was stopped," James said. "Her bodyguard had multiple alarms. I had to bear off. But...I infiltrated the hospital. I nearly had her there too. And I almost had her oldest cub--twice. However, I was fought off both times by new complications."

"What sort of complications?"

"The President of the American Magical Nation--Lee Shepherd. He's Robert Lupin's American counterpart. And he wasn't alone. He had confederates helping him. One of which was Edward Donohue."

"Great," the older male sighed sarcastically. "Just bring our Van Helsing right to our doorstep. Oh, well done."

"He's after me, not you," James retorted, glaring. "If we're fortunate, the Lupin woman will die, and we can be rid of that stone in one way or another. And with her father missing, there is nothing to keep us from taking hold of the humans now. The Krum boy that is trying to pretend to run the Ministry is a dolt. It would appear we have very little to worry about from them. If we avoid Donohue, it should be clear sailing for a bit." The males around him grinned and laughed. They liked the sounds of that.

The girl who was speaking seemed like she was in her teens, probably not much older. She chuckled softly at her comment about thinking she would be good at breeding and began deciding who a good match for her would be, already knowing that James might have her choose someone for the girl. The only problem was that there weren't many males who'd be suitable for her. They were all more than a few years older than her and most likely wouldn't know how to contain themselves with a girl like her.

She glanced at Dylan who had begun to eat some of the meat that was placed in front of him. He sniffed the raw meat, not knowing if he should eat it or not. The boy obviously wasn't used to eating raw meat, no human really would be unless they were insane or something like that. Dylan felt the woman's gaze on him and he looked up from the meat. Her eyes flickered from him to the girl and she thought maybe the only good match would be Dylan.

She wasn't sure she wanted him to be with anyone else though. He was hers after all. She glanced at the meat then at Dylan who was still looking at her. "Eat." she cooed, making the boy grin and he took a bite of the meat, not seeming to care that it was raw. "Don't worry about him, James. He'll be properly trained in no time. I'll make sure of it." she told him. "After he's finished, we'll continue." she added, glancing between Dylan and the girl who didn't seem to know what to make of herself.

She obviously felt out of place among them, but Moira knew she'd get over it in no time. It was just a matter of learning to run with the pack, she'd learn. Just as Dylan was going to. Maybe it would be a good idea for her to train them properly together and give them a chance to get to know each other. Maybe with time, they'd take a liking to one another and they'd decide to breed together. It was worth a try.

"She can have my mate, James," the seductive blond offered, scowling at the male across the table from her. He looked up at her angrily, but he stayed silent in deference to James.

"And what about your mate?" James asked. The blond came around the table to him as he stood up. The little brunette had been taking some platters to the kitchen area to be washed when she saw James get up. She knew his routine. He wanted another tankard of ale. She stood silently a few paces away, waiting to serve. He handed her his tankard, and she cast a very slight smile, honored that he noticed her. She hurried off to refill his tankard.

James turned his attention back to the blond who was now running her fingers across his muscular chest.

"I'd like to change mates," she told him seductively. "I want to be your female, James. I want to lead this pack with you and have your cubs."

He paused, expecting that it would come sooner or later, but not expecting it to happen this soon. He looked at her for a moment. He saw a bit of anxiety pass across her face now that he was towering over her.

"A very bold proposal," he said. "But I'm not the one you need to worry about." He glanced at Moira. "She rather likes being my female, I think. If she's ready to give up the job, then I'll consider it. If she likes her current male, then you might well have something significant to worry about."

James knew Moira would defend her position with him and in the pack with a vengeance. Contests for dominance sometimes happened, but while the women challenged each other for their positions in the pack, few dared to even dream to challenge Moira. The men laughed, anxious for the chance to watch a 'chick fight.'

She did not like what she was hearing. It was one thing for these proposals to be made without her knowing, but another very different thing to have them said right in front of her. Obviously, the blonde did not care whether she died or not. The thought of just killing her ran through Moira's head and she licked her lips, though she quickly decided against it as it wouldn't be a good use of her time.

She turned from where she stood with Dylan to face the blonde who seemed to be all over James and though she tried to keep herself calm on the outside, inside she was fuming and ready to kill anything that got in her way. Her eyes had narrowed and she stared at the blonde. "I have no intentions of giving up my place." she said in a low voice.

"If you want it, you'll have to take it from me. And believe me, I will not let you take it so easily. You'd have to kill me first." she growled. If anything, she was the one who was going to be doing the killing if she decided she actually wanted to go up against her. Moira wasn't merciful, she wasn't going to go easy on the blonde, and if she died in the process then that was her own fault.

She worked her way up to the position she had, and she was not going to allow it to be taken from her by anyone.

"That could be arranged," the blond said to Moira with a smile on her face.

"Much as I enjoy a sparring match," James said. "I have other things for both of you to do. Moira, train your recruit. I want him fully prepared to follow whatever you need him to do."

He turned his head to the blond. "You are not battle ready," he told her. She looked completely shocked at hearing his decision.

"I am ready! I'm ready to lead this pack!" she protested.

"No," he said. "You're not. And right now, if you're not part of the recruiting and fighting force, then you need to be breeding."

"Then I'll breed with you!" she said, her tone sounding like more of a protest.

"Another time," he said. "Go breed with your mate. If you want to please me, go help provide us cubs."

"I don't want to breed with him!" she protested. He looked at her, seeing her insubordination. He looked at her mate. "Take her by force if you want her. Otherwise, she serves no purpose. If you don't want her, then kill her." Her mate got up obediently from the table, not an ounce of emotion on his face. He took hold of her by her hair and moved her off, towards the private chambers in the catacombs.

He looked at Moira. "If this continues to be an issue, you let me know," he said.

Moira was obviously irritated with the blonde. She began to hope James would allow them to fight so she could take her frustration out on the girl. She more than deserved it. Moira was not one you'd want to anger and that's exactly what the blonde had done.

She listened to the back and forth conversation she had with James with no interruption and watched as she was dragged away by her mate who showed little to no emotion to what had just occurred. He was undoubtedly displeased with the woman's behavior though. No one liked it when their mate said she didn't want to mate with them.

Moira turned her attention back to James and nodded. "I will." she responded. She glanced at Dylan who had been watching the entire thing without paying much attention to anything else and she placed her hand on his back. He looked at her with little emotion visible on his face and she looked at James once more. "I'll continue with his training now." she told him.