Dear Readers,
Time has passed and many males have died, new things are set in motion.
Enjoy,
KemMyst
********
Three years later
"I don't like it."
"Mom..."
"I will not bring another man into your father's bed."
"Dad knew that we'd need to bring in new blood again. He told me I was going to have to send you out to bring a man back here. Would you rather it was Emily? Or Sandra and Shawna when they come of age?" She took a couple of deep breaths, tears stinging her eyes.
"No. Damn you, Callum." She had known this day would come. Temperance had already coaxed a male into the pack, and, while he was not particularly strong, she seemed to care for him and was pregnant.
She had tried desperately to think of a way to avoid the entire situation, but Devon was no longer here. "Alright, would you consider a compromise?"
"Such as?"
"The goal is to bring in new blood, to produce children not subject to this virus, correct?" Callum nodded, keeping a determined look on his face, although his mother's words stung. "I will go out into the world, when I am fertile, and coax men into having sex with me. If I don't become pregnant within two years", she took a deep breath, "I'll bring one back with me."
"One year." She looked at him, ready to argue, then dropped her head.
"Agreed."
He took her hands. "I'm not doing this to try to hurt you. The pack needs this from you."
"Callum, I've had ten children. There's already too much of my blood in this pack." He opened his mouth to rebut. "Don't worry. I will do as you ask." She stood, her back straight, and left the room. She went outside, into the early spring snows, and ran until she was too tired to think anymore. Her period was coming soon, that meant she had two weeks to prepare before returning to the human world, for the sole purpose of getting a man to impregnate her.
Beth cornered her later. She knew Anne well enough to know when something was wrong. She'd been different since Devon died, but this was more than that.
"I've gone back to being a whore again, Beth."
"You mean Callum means for you to bring in another man?"
"I'm as subject to the whims of the Alpha as anyone else. Besides, he threatened to send Emily, or Shawna and Sandra if I didn't. They're too naive about the outside world. The women don't choose there, it's the men. And too many of them are too much like Ian Matlin. They wouldn't be safe."
*****
In the smoke and noise and crowded conditions of the bar, he was hard pressed to smell anything. But his eyes kept returning to the woman in the corner, staring morosely at the drink in front of her. He'd seen her here a couple of times before, always alone, about every three or four weeks.
She looked to be in her mid thirties, long brown hair, brown eyes. She'd always come in alone. A couple of times he had seen her leave with one of the men and then she'd disappear again. He'd also seen her tell others to go to hell and leave her alone. He'd seen broken down women in a couple of bars he'd been to before, but she wasn't like that. She held herself tall, looking people in the eye, unashamed. But what had driven her to haunt the bar, seemingly looking for sex with random men?
*****
Well, here she was again, sitting with a drink, trying to entice some random healthy male into having sex with her. A woman alone in a bar. She felt like drinking herself into a state where she really wouldn't care what happened to her, but the scales would tip too much in the men's direction. While her change meant she was stronger than before, she'd still be hard pressed to hold out against some of the stronger men if they decided to try something. Even though she didn't like what she was doing, she wanted as much control of the situation as she could get. When half the patrons got drunk enough, they'd hit on her, some with friends egging them on to see if they could get her to agree to a grope in the backseat of their car. She picked up the beer, taking another drink, and looking at the regulars and some irregulars at the bar, at the pool table, and otherwise sitting around swilling themselves into oblivion.
He sat at one end of the bar. He seemed to keep to himself, not really mingling with any of the others, although they clapped him on the arm and made smalltalk from time to time. He was also one of the few that hadn't tried to get in her pants. His hair was a light brown, and wavy. He was on the tall side, with a broad chest and big arms.
Once, when she glanced at him, he was looking at her. His eyes were a startling grey color. There was something about him, the way he held himself, although he did seem a bit arrogant. As if he were better than the others.
He finally decided to see if Rick knew anything about her. Catching the bartender's eye, he motioned him over. "Want another one, Ethan?"
"No, Rick. Thanks. I was just wondering. Know anything about our mystery woman in the corner? She got a name?"
"Nope. Never heard a name. None of the guys have ever gotten one out of her."
"She ever pay with a credit card?"
"Nope. Always cash. And, at her age, never had a reason to card her. You thinking of giving her a try or something?"
"No. Just wondering. She just comes in here every so often and sometimes leaves with a guy. She's not even really trying to pick someone up. What do you suppose her deal is?"
"May be some random heiress out slumming. Who knows? If you find out, let me know, huh?"
"Sure, Rick. Hey, I will take another one after all. Make it two."
He took both beers over and asked if he could sit at her table. She looked at him rather closely, and agreed.
He tried talking to her. Her answers were short, noncommittal.
She looked at him a little more closely. "What are you, a police officer?"
He laughed, yelled over the crowd, "Hey, Rick, am I a cop?"
"You, Ethan? Yea, and I'm the pope."
She released an exasperated breath. "Look, not to be rude, but is there something you wanted?"
He sat there, talking to her, or trying to, through a couple of rounds of beers. She saw some men looking at her, probably friends of others she'd been with, but he didn't leave. "Look, I really need to you to go back to the bar."
"Why?"
"None of your affair." Still, he didn't leave. He had spoiled her hunt for the evening. Not that she was terribly disappointed, mind you, but Callum would begin to wonder if she were actually doing what she said she was.
She came back, the next night. When he turned to look at her, she caught his eye and glared at him from the corner. He watched, later, as she left the bar in the company of another man. He finished his beer and walked out into the night air.
Ethan heard the man's groans as she rode him in the front seat of his pickup truck. The windows were cracked in the warm air and he could smell sex. From the shadows near the back of the bar he watched as the man nuzzled at her neck, pawed her breasts, and pushed up inside her. Then he heard, "I'm gonna cum!" and the man made the groan signifying he was spraying her insides.
She stopped moving and her head turned. She seemed to be staring at him. But, she couldn't possibly see him back here in the shadows! After a few moments, she got off of the man, arranged her clothing, and got out of his truck, stuffing something in a pocket.
Was she just a whore? She didn't act like she needed the money. Or was it drugs? Had she actually seen him, watching her? Who was this woman? The wind shifted and, suddenly, he got a good whiff of her. My god, he'd never smelled anything like it! He'd smelled something good when he sat opposite her in the bar the last time, but you never knew where it was coming from inside the bar with the smoke and crush of bodies.
She disappeared again for another three weeks or so. When she did return, he waited until she had almost finished her first beer, then walked over to the table with two more and sat down.
She took the proffered beverage and took a drink. "Who are you?"
"The queen of England, and you?"
"The pope, no, wait, that's Rick." He shook his head. "I'm Ethan." He put out his hand.