King Alpha Gone Rogue

CHAPTER TWO: HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT

Samuel Fortune made his way through the crowd without stopping for anyone in particular. The horde of humans outside weren’t here for him, and neither was he interested in anyone of them. He was too focused on walking the red carpet to enter the ballroom without anyone intercepting him.

“Samuel!” somebody called out loudly, and he tried not to wince as the phalanx of cameras flashed on him causing him to retract in himself out of fear. Good going, buddy! Being in the limelight was a great way to hide from the world, he thought with self-deprecatory indignation.

“Emir Royal,” he greeted the alluring stranger formally as the movie star sauntered in his direction, with his seductive smile firmly in place for the camera’s sake. To the outer world, it seemed that two most handsome men were greeting each other on the red carpet.

Nobody would guess that a King Alpha was meeting up with the King of vampires, hidden in the human world for their secret mission. Amidst the most popular human celebrities, hidden in plain sight as the axiom would say. 

“Samuel Fortune,” Emir drawled enigmatically, extending his hand for a firm grip, and Sam held out his hand without hesitation. “Nice to finally meet you,” the man supplied with a subtle move of his head, as they marched together on the red carpet.

Today was the most prestigious fashion show being organized in New York, and which they were both attending as special guests. It had taken Sam months to get an invitation, especially when he’d learned that Emir Royal was attending the show. It was the only opportunity to get to him.

“It’s hard to get an appointment with you, Mr. Royal,” he droned slowly, remembering the hours he’d spent waiting at the Manhattan office only to be notified that Mr. Royal was not receiving any guest. Given his important position, Sam could only guess why he made himself so unavailable to the folklore.

“Can you blame me?” Emir inferred with arrogance as he led the way towards his private spot in the Skylight Clarkson square reserved for the richest man in attendance.

Sam was intrigued despite himself – he couldn’t help wondering how a vampire could settle between humans without them noticing his absurd honeyed topaz eyes? Or did the women merely find them sexy like in Twilight? He couldn’t help snickering at the stupidity of their reactions, if only they knew what vampires were capable of, sexiness would be the last adjective on their minds.

“So, what is it you want from me Mr. Samael Darhk?” the vampire said again in that low seductive tone, and Sam’s hairs raised in alarm.

So, he knows? Starrk immediately asked in indignation mixed with a significant amount of fear. His wolf was finally reacting at the presence of a vampire, and Sam tried to smother him with great effort.

It was well-known in their world that vampires and werewolves were sworn enemies, and the meeting of the two strong kings were going to end either in an epic historical event, or doomsday.

Down, boy. Down. I’ve got this. Sam tried to soothe his wolf to calm him down – it was going to be a real warzone if ever Starrk decided to show himself. By the sparkling shine in the stranger’s eyes, something told Sam that emir had sniffed his werewolf and was reacting instinctively as well.

Being Kings, they had a tight rein on their alter egos, and Sam was confident enough to be able to sit there pretending that the hairs on his body weren’t puckering out ready to pop out his skin.

“How do you know my identity?” he asked suavely after a while when Starrk was once again under control. It seemed a rhetorical question though, if whatever legend said about the intrepid Emir Royal was true, the man was one formidable enemy.

Emir shrugged his large shoulders like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Sam knew that the vampire was on the alert. The way his keen eyes swept over the crowd with detached interest, but which seemed to miss nothing. “It’s my job to find out about anyone menacing my family,” he warned in a low tone which belied the subtle warning.

Sam sighed. “I am not a threat to your family. Is that what you think? If I wanted to attack you, would I sort you out in your offices during broad daylight where anyone could see me?”

“I don’t really understand why you left the pack in the first place. Thought you werewolves weren’t supposed to live alone. Strength of the wolf is the pack kind of thing,” Emir stated sarcastically, not even bothering to hide his derision.

Let’s bite his head off, that would teach his arrogant ass! Starrk muttered in indignation at the barely concealed ridicule of the werewolf’s lifestyle.

Stop right there, Starrk! We’re not here for war. We have to convince him to follow our step. He’s our only hope, remember?

That reminder seemed to cool off Starrk’s heels, and he sobered instantly properly reminded of the mission they were on. It was more important to focus on the quest that he’d been on for the past two years.

“Have you heard of the Mongrels?” he ventured staring unseemly at the models walking the ramp and heard the indistinct animalistic growl coming from the vampire opposite him.

“What’s that got to do with you? Have you allied with them?” Emir growled under his breath, still watching the show as though he hadn’t even spoken. Had anyone looked in their direction right now, nobody would have even guessed that they were having a conversation. Or were they making use of their psychic ability to read minds?

At least, Sam had opened his mind link and was trying to get inside the vampire’s head but experienced a block. Knowing eyes turned to him, cryptic and mysterious, and Sam felt a huge amount of respect for that man despite their historical rivalry.

Likewise, he was not allowing the man to enter his head and was projecting fake memories to confuse the vampire. It wouldn’t be a great idea to trust that man too much.

“No, but my pack is under their captivity. Although it’s very civil and all, but I know from secret sources that the Mongrels usurp their resources and keep them under toes. It’s a piteous existence for them ever since I became rogue.”

“So, why did you?” Emir snarled hostilely at him, all pretense of civilly dissipating as he looked over to Sam with dangerous slits which suggested that he had no respect for the man.

“I had no other choice,” he mumbled incoherently, still traumatized by the choices which he’d had to make in the heat of the moment. Once the Mongrels had surrounded their hiding place, with his mother sprouting something about finding the cure, Sam had grabbed both his backpack and his mother.

“NO!” his mother had cried out, before rumbling through her belongings. “Here, take this. Find the cure,” she had repeated slowly, enunciating on every word. “It’s the only thing which can help us.”

The cure, he mused pensively. That’s the only thing he’d known when he’d run that night. Leaving behind a piece of his heart only to be able to save his pack from a fate more atrocious than death.

After two years of research, he’d come to learn that the cure was another powerful folklore character which could cure the Mongrels. It had taken him time to find one Magic Marcus who knew enough about prophecies and mystic tales about the emergence of Mongrels.

It turned out that when a vampire chewed on a werewolf, or vice versa, they turned into the horrible creatures called Mongrels. There was a specific way to turn them into Mongrels, Sam discovered the bite had to be deep and causing huge loss of blood. Since Mongrels were not normal beings, they were in the state of conflict struggling between finding their identity of either a vampire or a werewolf.

Marcus was convinced that if ever someone managed to overcome the conflict and conquer both mystical beings, he would become the strongest among them all.

“I’m trying to find the cure,” he announced in his mind, and allowed Emir access to the memories of the night when the Mongrels had attacked his pack. A sharp intake of breath at his side indicated that he’d made his point.

“A cure?!” Emir enunciated in pure wonder. “That’s the first time I’m hearing about this. Is there even something which can heal those creatures?”

“Apparently, no one has ever heard of anything like this except for the Magic Marcus. I met him in New York about some months ago, and he confirmed something that was mere theoretical. If some powerful being bites the Mongrels the same way they were bitten when turned, they have the possibility to regain their original state.”

“Come again?” Emir frowned hostilely; his full attention turned towards Sam now.

“Well, from what Magic Marcus says, Mongrels happen when a werewolf bites into a vampire or vice versa. Take you for example, if I bite you now in a specific way, you will turn into one. It’s because one being cannot contain two major personas inside, that’s why one keeps rejecting the other.”

“What happens when someone manages to conquer both beasts?” Emir wondered pensively.

“Then, we can only hope that whoever he is, he’s on our side for there will be no cure for him, and he will be the most powerful amongst us all. So far, no one has ever managed to overcome both personalities.”

“Dorian Walker?” Emir asked, referring to the man leading the Mongrels.

Sam shook his head. “He was a vampire before turning into a werewolf, and he has so far conquered his bloodthirst. But he looks like a Lycan turned wrong and has never been able to shift into his werewolf.”

There was a long pause. “So, you’re telling me that whoever is the cure can bite a Mongrel back into his original form. Vampire turns back into vampire? And werewolf becomes werewolf?”

“Exactly. There might be some side-effects, but there won’t be any urge to kill.”

Emir didn’t say anything for another long moment, staring into space to measure up his words most probably. The creation of Mongrels was nebulous so far, nobody knew how they came to be, or who found out about the special bite.

“And you think I can help?” Emir eventually asked. “How?”

There came the tricky part. “I think you might be the cure,” Sam admitted without preamble. “Magic Marcus said it had to be someone of the highest hierarchy or with the strongest ability to heal.”

“Me? That’s not possible,” Emir snapped in an abrupt voice. “I am definitely not a healer. All I’ve done in my life is cause disruption everywhere I go. That’s why I prefer loneliness to exposing my loved ones to danger. They’re better off without me. But I might know who…”

Emir stopped suddenly, his eyes darkening over as he hissed with his fangs in clear view. “I smell another werewolf. Is this an ambush? Have you brought someone else?” he grounded out angrily, and surprised Sam scanned the room for the presence of another of his peers. Instead of the usual breezy familiarity, a pungent smell hovered in the air and when Sam turned to fact the vampire again, the latter was already gone.