Artiface Of Strength Ch 03

She didn't want to do this, she had avoided coming to Shunkaha for years now. Tonight though, her hand had been forced.

Dammit, I have got to know what happened! The man saw me naked; worse yet, he saw me naked while I was hugging Beth! I'd beg her to just send me the story, but I need to be looking into her eyes when she tells me. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm gonna need a very tall and very stiff drink in my hand when I hear what she has to say!

Florence hadn't been to the pack clubhouse in years. It was open every Friday and Saturday night, and the drinks were always free, but yet, she hadn't been inside since some time during Ronald Reagan's term in office.

She'd be fine, down deep, she knew this. She knew all of the special clubhouse rules, and even though they were not written down anywhere, every wolf in the pack knew them by heart. They all knew about 'hourly bartender', as well as all the unique and perverse rules to the drinking games, not to mention all of insanity that went on at the pool tables.

She'd be fine...really. After all, she had grown up with these wolves, even though this was probably what was worrying her the most. She'd ignored the social part of belonging to her pack for such a long time, and she was justifiably worried that she might not get the warmest welcome when she walked in to Shunkaha. Wolves were such loyal creatures, and she knew that they might just consider her time away from them as a sign of disloyalty, rather than what it had really been, not that she could quite explain what her reasons were to any of them. She had enough trouble explaining her fears to herself.

"

Damn that Beth

," she thought to herself once again, "

I'm sure that she made me come here to make a point; she's just rubbing my nose in it now!"

So she just stood there, right outside the front door, indecision locking her in place. The Shunkaha hadn't changed since she'd seen it last. It was still a large, ugly cinder block building with a tall peaked roof to defeat the heavy winter snows that hit every year. There were no windows on the building, but there were large double-doors on all four walls, as well as well-hidden security cameras on the outside. No one was going to sneak up on their clubhouse, and the doors made sure that they'd never be trapped inside in the event of an attack.

On each set of doors, the exact same signs were hung. The first sign said in large black letters, Shunkaha Club, members only. The second sign, lettered in a blood red script, said, abandon all hope those who ignore the above sign. So far it'd worked fine, there had not been an uninvited human enter the place in years, although this may have had as much to do with the remote location and the dozens of bikes parked near the building and next to the large locker area that sat on the front porch. The members needed a place to put their clothes when they went on a different sort of wolven 'run'.

Yes, this was

the

last place she wanted, or expected to be for the night. She knew that if she opened the door, she'd be committed to go inside, to talk to people; worse yet, she'd probably have to talk about things that were not even work related. She'd have to answer questions, probably even endure being teased and tormented by the other pack members. With her luck, Tristan was probably even in there with his brand new casted leg and a set of crutches. That might be awkward.

So, she stood there, putting off opening the door and going inside. She didn't have to open the door to in order to hear the music however; one of the warriors must have control of the jukebox tonight. Ministry was playing, and someone had graciously turned the volume up as high as it would go.

Indeed, the walls of Shunkaha were visibly shaking from the sound. Florence could make out the lyrics even through the cold cinder block, "I'm in love with this malicious intent; you've been taken but you don't know it yet..." She hoped that this wasn't an omen of things to come.

"No," she said out loud, "I don't

have

to do this! Surely Beth will be willing to tell me what happened with William over breakfast tomorrow. I can wait that long".

But, just as she spun on her heel and was prepared to flee back to her cabin, she received a sending from Beth...from inside.

"No, I won't. If you want the whole story, you are going to have to swallow your pride and get your tail in here and take what's coming to you. C'mon Hon', it won't hurt...much."

Florence knew that trying to out-stubborn Beth was a fool's mission, and since no one had ever managed it, she took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Ministry was still pounding away from the speakers, and she was immediately assaulted by their grumbling chorus, "New World Order! New World Order!"

Exhaling, she scanned the room and found to her dismay that the room was packed, evidently every adult wolf from the entire county was here tonight, even the ones who lived off compound. There hadn't been a turn out like this in years. She hoped that she wasn't the reason for the occasion.

She turned to the pack peg board and found the tag with her name on it, deftly removed it and then dropped it into the hopper. While doing this, she noticed that there were only three adult tags left on the board.

If the entire pack was here, where were John, Sam, and Tom? Oh Goddess, that meant she was the ranking wolf on premises tonight. What the Hell is going on?!

It was extremely unusual for the three senior wolves to be absent from the clubhouse on a Saturday night. Like most wolves, the three men were social animals, and it was unlike them to miss a pack party and to Florence, this definitely looked like a blowout that had been going on for awhile. She took one look at the bloodshot eyes that greeted her and the unsteadiness of the arms that rose to wave at her, and decided that this party had been going on since before nightfall. "

Just wonderful

," she thought to herself, "

I am in charge tonight, and if there is a problem, all of my warriors are plowed."

"Well, at least the natives look friendly," she reassured herself before heading over to the bar where Beth seemed to be camped out, holding court for the pack bitches while most of the men seemed content to hang out at the pool and shuffleboard tables.

"Here goes nothin'," she mumbled to herself as she approached the Queen and her nosey court. As she approached the edge of the group, it seemed to almost magically open to permit her to move directly to the middle. Jackie and Marge, two of the senior bitches stepped aside, one to the left, and one to the right, leaving Florence room to stand right in the dead center of the pack's women. Somehow she feared that this wasn't an accident.

"Hey Florence, long time since we've seen your face in the clubhouse," Jackie said with a mischievous smile. "Beth was just telling us about her conquest last night!

Marge laughed and then offered, "Yeah, she said that you got the cute one!"

Florence said nothing, merely shooting Beth an irritated look that wasn't missed by any of the pack bitches. Nor was it possible for anyone to miss the assembled women's laughter when they saw the look of discomfort on Florence's face.

Beth didn't let the look bother her; she just grinned back at Florence and said, "See Hon', I told you that it wouldn't hurt...much. All the girls are on your side, you know."

Florence growled back, "Let me guess, you are going tell everyone what happened when the boys landed their boat?"

Margie laughed once again, "Well duh! Of course she is Flo. You don't think any of us are gonna miss hearing this story, do you? It's been ages since any of us have gotten to hear any good Florence gossip!"

"...and this is even better," Beth stated, "This is the

straight

stuff! It is one hundred percent accurate."

"Yeah, right from the horse's ass," grumbled Florence.

Beth put her hands upon her heart and affected a mortally wounded pose before saying with a feigned gasp, "Oh Florence, you

wound

me! Here I am... doing my best to promote harmony and love within the pack, and you positively

wound

me!"

Beth then paused a moment before starting again with a giggle, "but you are not getting out of it; here's what happened, girls..." But before Beth could utter another word, the jukebox abruptly stopped mid-song, just like it did at the top of every hour. It was time for shift change.

"Tristan," Beth yelled out. "You aint dancin' tonight, so reach in that drum and find us a new bartender."

Florence looked over her shoulder and saw that she'd missed seeing Tristan seated next to the prize drum near the front entrance, and she began to get a sinking feeling, sensing a set-up when she saw one. Tristan grinned at Florence good naturedly before giving the drum a couple of turns and leisurely reaching within and drawing a name. Florence knew which name he'd be calling before he'd even drawn it out of the hopper. Sure enough, she heard her own name called and she began putting the apron on before the laughter had even died down.

"O.K. boys," Florence called out without missing a beat, you know the drill; the bartender can choose to exercise control over the jukebox, and I'm gonna do just that. We will

not

be listening to any more Ministry tonight. No more Nine Inch Nails. No more Toadies. It aint gonna happen on my watch; so you'd better just deal with it!"

Then she looked over at her grinning friend and demanded, "Beth, go fill that thing up with girl's choice. Start with some Gretchen, because you made damned sure that I was here for the party.

This was met with a good deal of good-natured booing from the men, but 'girl's choice' usually meant dancing music, so all of the members of the Queen's court smiled and melted away from the bar, sending come-hither looks to their men as they headed to the dance floor. Not that many of the men complained much, male wolves were a lot like male humans, they generally enjoyed half-drunk and horny women coming to find them, so everything was good.

When Beth returned from the jukebox, Florence looked at her meaningfully and asked, "Are there any other names in the drum tonight?"

"Nope, not a single one."

"That's dirty, Beth!"

"Yep, the girls and I discussed it. Then we voted on it and it was unanimous; we decided that you have a couple of decade's worth of debt to pay off."

Florence thought about this for a moment and then asked, "...and John and the two idiots, where are they tonight?"

"Hiding from you, I think. John said something about needing to leave you in charge just in case that lost bitch showed up and got pissed off when she was forced to have some fun."

"Beth, I

will

get even with you. Count on it!"

Not feeling overly threatened, Beth just laughed in response before directing Florence's attention to where Tristan was signaling for a drink.

"Any clue what he's drinking," Florence asked with resignation.

"He's drinking

you

in with his eyes, Flo. I'm guessing that he'll be ordering body shots.

Ignoring Beth's response, Florence changed the subject, "So...when do I get to hear about William and Phil?"

"You know the answer to that, Flo, you'll get the story when the rest of the girls get done dancing and come back to the bar. I'm only telling this story once..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know," interrupted Florence, breaking into song, "So I'd better be sure and listen close the first time..." She then stopped singing and grumbled, "Goddess, I

hate

that song!"

"Umm... Flo, did you forget Tristan?"

"Yes master," Florence said grumpily, as she grabbed an order pad and headed out to take orders.

With the dance floor full however, there were not many orders to take, so Florence soon found herself standing in front of Tristan, a little unsure of what to say to him. She looked down into his dark eyes and saw him looking back at her openly, almost hungrily; his long brown hair was tied back with a leather thong tonight. He'd also shaved off his scruffy beard as well. He was wearing a simple western shirt with a couple of buttons open at the top that showed just how broad and muscled his chest had become.

"You clean up nice, Tristan; how's the leg?"

"I didn't vary my pattern enough, and I kept balancing on the same leg...right?"

"...and I didn't even have to tell you what you'd done wrong."

"No Florence, you just broke my leg instead."

"You've gotten so much better, Tristan. I have to take each session more seriously now; it seems as if you are on a mission."

"I am on a mission, Florence. I'm going to pass you, and then I'm going to take you!"

"What if I don't want to be taken?"

"Then I'll convince you, because if I can beat you, I think you'll be willing to be convinced."

Florence took a longer, more appraising look at Tristan, seeing only determination in his eyes. Momentarily unsure of herself, she scented him, but there was nothing there. His scent had not changed at all, and while it sounded as though he might want to be her mate, he was not, at least not yet. She knew that this could change however, many wolves found mates with those they had known all of their lives. Only the Goddess, herself knew when or even why this would change, so every wolf lived their life with this uncertainty.

One day, two wolves could be only casual acquaintances and on the next, it was like a switch was flipped and the two couldn't remain apart if they tried. This could...and did get extremely ugly at times, especially if one of the new mates happened to be involved in a relationship at the time.

Generally though, things resolved themselves pretty quickly because every wolf knew that the mating pull could not be resisted for long without wolves going rogue. Temporary relationships were just that, temporary. A mating was something quite different, it was always permanent and they tended to approach with all the subtlety of a bomb going off in a crowded subway. Wolves learned that it was best not to even consider the idea that they could be in love, because deep down, they

knew

that they couldn't be, not unless they had found their mate.

"But until then..." Tristan continued, "You can bring me a cold pitcher of brown and a full bottle of single malt. That way you won't have to keep getting up." He then tapped his cast and said, "It looks like I will be on crutches for a few more days, so I can't challenge you just yet."

Florence smiled briefly and before leaving to get his order, she looked directly into Tristan's eyes and said, "I'll be waiting."

She remained busy serving the pack for the next hour and time passed quite quickly. She was unsurprised when her name was drawn the second time... and then a third time an hour after that. She spent her night moving around the bar, serving drinks, renewing long dormant pack bonds, and ever so gradually beginning to relax, remembering that all of these wolves were her friends even if she had put most of them through Hell for awhile.

When the fourth hour rolled around, everyone in the house was shocked when Tristan rooted around in the hopper and called out Beth's name. Refusing to believe it, Beth insisted upon seeing the token and then appeared quite shocked when it, indeed, was hers. She looked back to where Florence was standing behind the bar and she saw that her friend was holding the pitcher filled with the genuine name tags, which she was now shaking at Beth victoriously.

Beth glared down at Tristan and silently mouthed, "you traitor" at him before sauntering away and taking her place, somewhat resentfully, behind the bar.

Florence laughed at her friend and then loudly called out, "O.K. ladies, dance time is now over; it is time for y'all to head over to the bar; court is now back in session.

The men gratefully resumed control of the jukebox, and as if to spite Florence, Rob Zombie was soon playing while the men headed back to their pool and shuffleboard tables.

Florence grinned at Beth before telling her, "Maybe you shouldn't have hidden the real tokens underneath the bar. They just were not that hard to find."

Beth snorted, "I can't believe that Tristan sold me out!"

"Yeah... well who was it that was telling me that I should make an effort to score some points with the guys?"

Beth glared at Florence for a moment before answering, "As if I thought you'd actually listen to me when I suggested that! ...and besides, they turned on Rob Zombie."

Florence merely laughed and said, "Yeah, well I told them no Ministry, Nine Inch Nails, or Toadies; I never said anything about other bands. I was lucky they went this far."

This just caused the returning bitches to laugh at Beth's displeasure, leaving her fuming behind the bar as she filled their orders. She didn't remain angry long though, as she was mollified by the fact that Florence remained behind the bar to help her serve the women.

After all of the women at the bar were served, Florence directed two of the junior bitches to deliver pitchers of beer and several whole bottles of the stronger stuff to where the men were congregated. She said, "Tell the men to leave us alone for awhile and just drink what they have. Tell them if they don't like it, they can take it up with me in the ring tomorrow! Make sure that you tell them that I looked irritated."

Beth laughed, "Yeah that ought to work! Now off with you two, if we don't pacify the men, I'll never get to tell this story, and don't worry, I won't start 'til you get back!"

Florence looked at Beth and said, "You just

had

to set me up didn't you? You couldn't have just asked me to come down here one night?"

"No Florence, I couldn't. I've invited you down here dozens of times before and you always come up with an excuse not to show up. Oh, you'll show up down at the Roadhouse once in a while, but that's just because the place is swarming with humans and you can avoid confronting the reality of the pack. Hell Flo, you were not even gonna come in here tonight until I threatened to hold out on you. Admit it; you were one step from turning tail and fleeing back to your cabin before I spotted you on the monitors. You forced our hand. You've become as close to a lone wolf as it gets, other than Sam and Tom picking on you, you've avoided any interaction with us at all. And you know how this works, if there is an unhappy member of the pack, it affects all of us. It's our job to make sure that you are happy too!"

"And you've been locked in your own head for years, Flo," Margie said, cutting in. "We all thought that you'd open up once you made Beta, but then you got even worse. It seemed as though you had taken on the worries of the entire pack without leaving any time for yourself."

Jackie picked up the conversation next, "Florence, we understand that your position as Beta makes it extremely difficult for you to date a lesser male. The fact that you can whip them in battle is usually more than enough to deflate the horniest wolf, but that doesn't mean you have to avoid us girls too. We'd love to be better friends and we figure that with you being a warrior, you might even be able to explain men to us now. We're kind of shaky on why they do the things that they do."

"I'm pretty sure that I don't have any better idea than you ladies do," Florence responded with a bit of a smile. "I've never really understood them either; I've just focused on beating them. More often than not, I just use their huge throbbing...egos against them. That seems to work better than anything else."

Beth laughed at this. "Nice turn of phrase, Flo, but I think that maybe this brings us back to William.