Hybrid Luna

Elaris Duskborne “If you’re lying to me, you’ll pay the price, half-blood.” The vampire threatened, with the familiar crimson light in his eyes that I saw countless times on the battlefield, either directed towards me or their true enemies. “I don’t care about the rules here, nobody will care if you disappear. Remember that.” His threats were just empty words. Not because he didn’t mean it, but because I wasn’t lying and there was no way I was wrong in my reading. The Queen of Pentacles looked at her coin with an obsessive gaze, a perfect picture of the woman who would be a victim now of the vampire’s fangs. I felt sorry for her, for it was a fellow witch… but for me, being loyal to my kin wasn’t going to place food on my plate or fulfill my plans. And it’s not like witches were more welcoming than wolves. I directed my own threatening expression to the vampire, letting Aelun out with a low growl, reacting to the provocation. “What makes you think that you could fight me in the first place, bloodsucker?” I spat their own defamatory nickname, for which he reacted showing his slightly elongated canines. They were small. “You cannot even control your own clan, so get your threats and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine… oh, my bad.” He stood up so fast that a normal human surely couldn’t have seen it, but my wolf’s eyes watched it all with striking accuracy. “You damn hybrid, how dare you…” The door of the small room snapped open with a loud bang, spilling the taverns light to the interior like a river. “Session’s over, so f*ck off, bloodsucker.” Tharion, the security chief of the bar and our local alpha, spilled his oppressive aura over the room, making the vampire’s nose wrinkle in disgust and Aelun’s fur stand on edge. I had to contain my own aura to avoid confrontation and respect his territory. The vampire only murmured an insult before glancing one last time at the cards at the table and turning back on his heels to get out. Tharion then receded on his aura and I did the same, relaxing now. I could stand my own ground, but I preferred to avoid any direct confrontation. “Why even accept that kind of thrash here, Elaris?”. Oh well, I couldn’t avoid the Tharion judgmental criticism. “After all they did in the war…” I let out a soft sigh, waving my hand to try to avoid the subject. “They didn’t do anything to me, at least directly… I only need his money and contacts.” “Then find them somewhere else.” The wolf growled, but I couldn't be bothered to get intimidated by it. And he didn’t have any right to order me around. “That is not up for you to decide.” I interjected, gathering my cards to pack them back in my bag, despite the soft whimpers I heard from them. “Do not forget who’s the real head here.” I heard him growl ever so softly, but he didn’t argue that. “Not even Mama Mirelda likes having vampires here.” I couldn’t fully blame him for his deep hatred towards vampires anyways. I knew all too perfectly what happened to his pack at war, all because of the vampires. But either way, he hadn’t any right to dictate my own business or the old hag. Not that he cared. “Find someplace else.” “That’s up to Mirelda herself.” I growled in return, returning to the tavern without further discussion. The Broken Cup is a tavern in neutral territory that’s certainly full of smells because it didn’t close its doors to anyone, for better or worse. Its only defect for being neutral was its mostly werewolf security team, who had a grudge mostly against vampires for obvious reasons. But there was the vampire barman, and camera guy, and an old OC cleaning demon on the cellar. I guess the vampires were ok for the wolves because they were transformed against their wishes and hated their own nature but couldn’t do anything about it now. And of course, the bar owner, Mama Mirelda, was an old witch whose age was a secret to all. She wasn’t anyone’s mother, but ever since I recall, everyone called her that way. She was an old friend of my mother, and my employer and “social assistant” of sorts. The tavern itself was full of humans, vampires, demons, werewolves and rarely witches, and all what they had in common was their solitary tendencies or the information hunger for their own groups and interests. But there was an essential rule here: if you fight one, you fight all. I sat on one of the bar stools, getting my phone out to avoid Tharion’s gaze, that followed after me with a disgusted expression. His bad mood would fade eventually. It was always the case with vampires. His deep hatred was just talking for him. It was understandable when almost his entire pack perished by vampire hands. [ED]: Hey, how’s your little bird going? I’ve been thinking it needs a change of scenery. Maybe get it freedom or bring it to the apiary. I sent the cryptic message to Sylvette, my crazy witchy bff that was always lost to the supernatural realms and had plenty of friends here and there. And the reference of the bird was the witch I ratted on, hoping to get her to safety and not feel too guilty. I left the electronic on the table, waiting patiently for her answer. By my side, a couple of wolves sat down, talking between them with tired hushes. “He should’ve step down by now. It doesn’t seem like he’s getting any better.” I overheard, although it was accidental. I ordered red wine; I didn’t like any other kind of alcohol. “The vamps are already choosing a successor. If this keeps going on like this, war could start again, and we will be on the losing side.” They were talking about the Lycan King. Nothing new there, then. It was widely known that by the end of the war, the Lycan King and the Vampire Ruler fought to death, but none had won and both sides ended gravely injured. Not even the enhanced natural healing was enough to recover from it. However, where werewolves had an unyielding loyalty to their king and didn’t want to change their King hastily, vampires were colder towards their ruler, and they just changed the one in the grand seat whenever it was necessary. It had happened twice or thrice, as I recall the last century history lessons. But the current Lycan King was really in a dire situation. “What’s keeping him from giving up the throne yet? His son is nearly 30 years old; he’s in age to be the next King.” “Naw, I don’t think he’s going to give the crown to his son. The man is a coward that didn’t even show himself on the public eye, let alone participate in the war. I heard Queen Luna forbid him to participle, to protect him from dying. He’s her only pup. But c’mon, the lad’s useless on the battlefield from what I’ve heard.” “Maybe for the sake of war, they’ll choose a different heir. Perhaps that war hero…” Ping! My phone rang with a message, and I almost jumped from my seat. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was an interesting discussion. Unfortunately, those wolves thought otherwise about my interest. I felt their mood shift by the sound of my phone and before they noticed anything I hurried over to answer my phone as if I heard nothing. But I heard one smelling the air around me. [Sylvie]: Oh, yeah. I was wondering if it was time to get her out. I’ll do just that. Well, that was it about that side. My guilt was bigger than the money earned from that vampire and at least I got her out of a place where sooner rather than later, she would’ve been found out. Being a witch was difficult enough to survive this era. They had the smallest population of all and the fact that we could easily be spies, got popular opinion against us. Nobody fully trusted a witch, and our loyalty could vary easily depending on our needs. And witch covens were a bit rare and small, so we didn’t have solid roots to come back to. But well, being a hybrid beat by far being a pureblood witch. The hatred towards us was greater. “Tsk, if I’d known that they let in hybrid thrash, I would never set foot here.” Speaking of the devil, one of the wolves had just scented and recognized me, and I tensed. Hateful idiots. “Get the hell out of here, halfblood. You are ruining the mood.” Aelun growled in my mind, but I hold it in with an expressionless mask. I just ignored them, drinking a sip of my wine with indifference. Long ago I learned that words were just that, and I wouldn’t react to brainless scum like them. And even if things escalated, I now could hold my ground perfectly. “Are you deaf or just stupid like the rest of your kin?” Asked the second male, but I just yawned. It was in fact late. “She’s a hybrid, what are you expecting? Their brains just don’t work like you and me. They’re a sorry mess.” Mocked the first one, and if the universe was the least fair, all of It could have ended like that. But well, I was born a hybrid, and they were born assholes. I suddenly felt a finger hitting my head, and my patience started to dwindle dangerously low, stretching like a single rope holding a big boulder. “The dots here just don’t connect with one another. They have non existent neurons here…” Aelun and my fist were begging to knock all his teeth out and leave him like a pulp on the ground. “Hey, maybe she’s just here as a toy-in-waiting. You know… for s*xual fun and all… look at her curves.” When a hand touched my behind, my patience just vanished in thin air and my fist travelled faster than my reason. With great satisfaction, I felt his nose breaking under my fist and I sent him flying to the ground by the sheer force of the punch. His head hit the ground with a loud thud and the whimper that came after was the funniest sound I heard in a while. “You touch me again and I swear you won’t remember what it feels like having to arms attached to your torso, you filthy mutt.” I growled with a wolf-distorted voice, feeling my fangs prickling my inferior lip with its deadly sharpness, ready to rip throats if necessary. I was told once that my canines were bigger than most. The fallen wolf looked so surprised that didn’t even noticed the blood falling like a spring from his nose. His brown eyes watched me with surprise and I barely noticed that Aelun’s aura was seeping from my body in heavy, aggressive waves. It was nothing as I’ve felt before… It was an intoxicating feeling. One I really feared…