Chapter one: The Bar

Twelve o' clock, and the streets were quiet and almost barren in this part of town. It was rare for New York, the city that never slept, to have any parts of town that were quiet, even during this time of night. Still, this was on the outskirts, and most of the activity happened inside the steel walls of the city. Tonight, Luck Gandor was happy that his adopted brother had taken him somewhere where there was such little activity. Although going to bars was no longer an underground or illegal venture, like it had been when he'd become immortal, Luck didn't like doing anything where there was a lot of people. He was a skittish wolf by nature, and even though he was King, he still had many enemies. This might be a bad time to get careless.

"Where are we going, Claire?" Luck asked as the red-haired man in front of him, Claire Stanfield turned the corner into a narrow alley, barely squeezing through. Luck followed him, shivering a bit as a few clumps of snow fell onto his head from the rooftops above. "We've been walking around aimlessly for the past half-hour. Please don't tell me you've gotten us lost again."

"Relax Lucky," Claire chided, and Luck flinched at the use of his much disliked nickname. Reaching a door, Claire scratched at it with his nails a few times, before the door opened up. Claire greeted the man who'd opened it with gusto, his thick, fluffy red tail* banging loudly against a few trashcans that had been set outside. Luck's ears pinned flat against his skull, and Claire motioned with his head for Luck to come closer. Reluctantly, the other man stepped up beside his brother, peering into the establishment. It was dimly lit, and smoke clouded the few lights that were on. There weren't too many people inside, but it was enough to make Luck's hackles raise defensively.

"Easy, boy," Claire chided, patting the other on the head, and Luck glared at him crossly. "This is the place. Now, go make some friends, and if you need me I'll be at the bar." The bigger wolf, despite resistance on Luck's part, pushed him in, and then bounded off, and Luck glanced forlornly in his direction. So that's what this was, just another half-baked scheme by Claire to get Luck to "make friends" and socialize.

To be honest, Luck probably needed to get out more. He spent most of his time inside the large mansion that he and his brothers had inherited from their father, and rarely had Luck showed himself since the Old King's death. He preferred solitude and secrecy, and due to that, he didn't have too many friends. Claire seemed to think it pitiable, and did everything he could to get Luck out of that "big cage", as he called it. Maybe it was a big cage to Claire, but to Luck it was his sanctuary, the only place where he could surround himself with the ghosts of the past.

But still, now he was here, and the least he could do was try to do was make the best of what he'd been given.

Making his way over to the bar, Luck slipped into the seat on Claire's left that wasn't occupied by anyone, and the other wolf laughed. "Come to join us, eh, Lucky?"

"Don't call me that," Luck muttered, then ordered a light drink from the barkeep. The tip of his curled tail twitched as he took a sip, finding it a bit strong for his liking, but deciding not to turn it down. He wanted to do whatever he could to avoid getting teased by Claire. His brother just laughed and went back to talking to his friends, and Luck turned his attention towards the pool tables in the back.

A girl was currently crouched over one of the tables where there was a reasonably large group of people gathered, her eyes intently focused on the cue ball and five remaining balls in front of her. She was young, about seventeen or eighteen, and her long blonde hair fell down to her waist. She was wearing a long, dark blue dress with lace around the arms, and a navy blue bandanna tied around her neck. Her ears were pricked and swiveled all the way forward, so the only thing Luck could see from the back were the fluffy white spots on the back of her ears. Her tail, sickle-shaped and almost like a German Sheppard's, was swishing back and forth slowly as she stood stiff, every muscle intent on her purpose. Luck watched her with quiet interest as she lined up, and then made the shot.

It wasn't good, however, and it didn't sink any balls. The young girl growled and huffed, crossing her arms as she slunk over to the back. Luck followed her with his eyes, but she moved into a corner where it was too dark to see, and he was forced to focus on the next player who stepped up. Claire noticed his intense focus on the game, and he leaned over to murmur in his ear;

"That girl who just took the shot? That's Eve Genoard. She's a regular down here, and her brother usually works but he's got weekends off. I've never seen 'em lose a game."

"They might with the way she's shooting," Luck murmured back, watching out of the corner of his eye as another person emerged from where Eve had just gone to. Almost immediately, he caught Luck's attention, and his ears swiveled forward.

He was much bigger than Eve, and appeared to be much older, somewhere in his early twenties perhaps. The heels of his heavy black boots made a steady rhythm on the wooden floor, and almost all of the bar-goers turned at the sound, and a heavy silence fell over the room. He was wearing a loose black leather jacket that cut off a few inches above the waist of his jeans, and, similar to Eve, wore a black bandanna tied around his neck. Unlike her, his ears flopped over at the tip, but when he turned to set his eyes on the pool table, they flipped up with interest. His tail was sickle-shaped, but unlike Eve's, his ears and tail were both a dark red, a shade darker than his reddish-brown hair.

He leaned over the table, cue in hand, eyes darting from the cue ball to the other five balls. His body was stiff as he adjusted his stance, tail swishing back and forth like a cat, seeming to block out everything except the thoughts of how he was going to make the shot. He exhaled deeply and then, without hesitation, made a shot that sank all five balls, with the black eight ball the last to fall. He stood back and gave a triumphant grin, and those who were not the losers applauded him. The loser grumbled, his ears flat against his skull and tail between his legs. Walking over to him, Eve slapped his hand, grinning back at him.

Luck hadn't taken his eyes off the man since the moment he'd sauntered into his line of sight, and he jumped a bit as Claire murmured into his ear again.

"That's Dallas, her older brother. He does most of the winning." Luck nodded numbly, and Claire smiled. "You didn't take your eyes off 'im the whole time. Do you like him~?"

"Claire, don't be ridiculous," Luck hissed, turning his head away from his brother. Claire just whistled, long and low in response, and Luck wrinkled his nose.

"Ah come on Luck, I can tell when you're lying!" Claire laughed, then tugged at his ear with his fingers. "Go on, go talk to him."

"There's no need."

"Go!" Claire then gave him a rough shove, which nearly made him fall off of the stool, but Luck managed to catch himself. He stayed on the edge of the stool, not wanting to leave, but he knew that Claire wasn't going to leave him alone if he didn't. Sighing heavily, Luck forced himself off of the stool and made his way over to where Dallas stood. He had pocketed a few bills from the loser, and as Luck approached he turned, his dark cobalt-blue eyes meeting up with Luck's golden ones. His face was expressive, sharply masculine and rough, much unlike Luck's eternally young, clean-shaven and expressionless face. They only stood a few inches apart when Dallas whirled around, and strangely, the closeness didn't bother Luck.

"That was an impressive move you pulled off," Luck said when he finally got his jaws to work.

"Yeah? I hope you don't want me to teach you or anythin'."

"No, I don't play." Luck could tell from his heavy accent that Dallas wasn't from New York originally, and he held out a hand. "Luck Gandor."

"Dallas Genoard." The other wolf gave his hand a rough shake, before releasing him. "I've heard your name before. You're the King, right?" His ears were standing straight up again with interest, and his eyes gleamed. It wasn't the usual reaction that Luck got when someone asked him that, and he let out a soft breath. He didn't know if that was good or bad.

"One of them, yes."

"Thought so." He gave a little grin and looked over his shoulder, winking at his sister who rolled her eyes and twitched an ear. Wait, had they been talking about him? He felt heat rush through his ears. "So, what's His Royal Highness doin' talkin' to a guy like me?"

"Wondering what time you worked here so I knew when to come back," Luck answered before he thought about it, and he had the sudden feeling that he needed to clasp his hands over his mouth. That was a bold move, and it didn't go unnoticed by Dallas, who raised one eyebrow in curiosity at the question.

"Five to ten on Monday through Friday." He smiled at Luck, then took a little step back. "Was it really that impressive, Mister Gandor?"

"Call me Luck. And you've got my interest."

"Have I?" Dallas laughed, a hearty laugh, and Luck felt the heat rush through his ears again. "Well then, I guess I'll be seeing you around." Luck's breath caught in his throat as Dallas turned, his fingers brushing against Luck's forearm as he went off after his sister who'd called for him to go. "Luck."

"Yeah. I'll be seeing you, Dallas," Luck called back, and watched the other wolf until he disappeared through the door.

It was to be the beginning of many interesting, lustful, and bloody events.

[Chapter notes: *the wolf-shifters retain their ears and tail in their human forms]