Tony couldn't help the grin that formed on his lips as he sat down across from the beautiful Sasha, whom he'd met upon first "joining" the Death Eater cause. She'd showed up today wearing jean short-shorts and a thin tank-top, her jet-black hair still flowing to her waist, though she had a habit of pulling it over the front of her shoulder to run her fingers through it.
It had taken Tony several encounters before he'd felt confident enough to ask her on the date, and he'd been dejected when she told him that she wasn't on the market at the moment. Still, she said that going out sounded fun and she knew a good spot, so here they were.
The pub, which didn't appear to have a name, was tucked away in a part of London that even he'd found seedy and it catered exclusively to dark creatures. At the bar, a pair of vampires were sipping away at some mixture of blood and alcohol which he found repulsive, but civility was required in these joint spaces so he said nothing. A half-giant had squeezed herself between the vampires and the end of the bar, where a half-dozen pixies were getting inebriated on whatever the hell pixies drank.
He saw other werewolves, too. Several were having a tournament at the pool table and the rest sat at tables much like he shared with Sasha.
"It's quite something, isn't it?" Sasha purred, following his gaze. Shit, how could he have his own opinion against a voice like that?
"I've never seen any place like it," Tony admitted, "nothing like this in New York, at least not that I ever saw."
"You don't have this kind of culture in the colonies," she said with a smirk. Her posh accent didn't fit in at all here in this shabby den and it gave her an air of mystery that he couldn't help but yearn to unravel.
"Colonies my ass," Tony chuckled, "we won that fight."
She clicked her tongue and winked, sipping at a martini which the bartender had just dropped off, though they hadn't ordered. A stout beer had been placed in front of him, which he sipped at without complaint. The man knew his trade.
"So, aside from drinking, what else is there to do around here?" Tony asked, setting his bottle back on the table. He initially took the look of distaste that crossed her face as a reaction to his question and began to apologize when she hissed under her breath, looking at the door.
At that same moment, the bar got a noticeable degree quieter, though not completely. A glance over the shoulder confirmed that they had a newcomer to the bar, and one who looked entirely in place at an establishment as dingy as this.
The man was bestial in size and his scent was immediately recognizable as that of a werewolf. His grey hair, longer than Tony thought belonged on any self-respecting man, was matted down and he sported pointed yellow nails on his fingertips with Tony found completely distasteful.
"Fenrir Greyback," Sasha muttered softly, her voice barely reaching his ears as she answered his unasked question. "He's sorta the Alpha around here...anywhere, really. Has a thing for biting kids."
The cumbersome werewolf crossed the space between the door and the bar rapidly and Tony noticed that the pixies and half-giant were scooting to make space even before he ran his arm across the bar, knocking the small bottles from the pixie corner down to the ground. The pixies didn't protest.
"Seems like a real peach," Tony muttered, careful not to let his voice carry. Sasha shot him a serious and warning look, so he bowed his head in acknowledgement and took another sip.
Greyback said something loud and unintelligible which the bartender seemed to understand, seeing as he placed a bottle of liquor on the bar and stepped away. That response apparently satisfied Greyback, who tilted his muzzle back and polished the contents of the bottle off in one long swig.
He slammed the bottle to the bar and then looked around at the patrons as though noticing them for the first time, eventually settling his gaze on Tony. Without breaking eye contact, he stood and crossed the short distance between them, towering over Tony. Sasha scooted to the other end of the booth and up against the wall, not inviting the werewolf to sit but trying to maintain some semblance of distance.
"You smell new," he said gruffly, authority and challenge dripping from his voice. "You must be the Yank."
"New to these parts," Tony admitted, taking a sip without breaking the gaze, "but I've been around the block." In his periphery he saw Sasha frown and knew he might have taken the wrong stance here. There was a balancing act when you met an alpha. Too strong and you were a threat, too soft and you were a target. You had to aim somewhere between, something not worth the time. "You must be the one that bites children," he commented, doubling down.
"Fodder for the cause." Greyback smirked, showing sharpened teeth. It wasn't near a full moon, which meant the man had done that himself. "You've got a mouth on you."
"Yeah," Tony agreed, "and I use it on food that can fight back." Fuck it, he knew this was coming to blows already. Might as well make the most of it.
The smirk disappeared in an instant and, quicker than Tony had expected, a meaty fist swung at his head. Being that he'd had that little moments preparation before starting this fight, he reacted in time to save himself from the traumatic brain injury.
He ducked beneath the punch, pushing himself out of the table and headbutting the alpha in the gut. Tony heard the wind rush from his foes lungs as they crashed against the bar. He reared a fist back, planning to plant it directly into Greyback's gut, but felt an elbow crunch against his spine before he'd managed it.
Tony could smell the breath before he felt Greyback try to take a bite out of his shoulder. His attempt to escape the bite was mildly successful. He managed to wiggle his way into just being scraped by the sharpened teeth.
Knowing the game now, he settled his jaw on the alphas wrist and bit deep. A howl of pain and rage escaped from Greyback as hot blood seeped into Tony's mouth. He let go, pushing himself away and spitting the coppery fluid on the ground. Judging by the spurt, he knew he'd caught the artery.
"You're gonna pay for that," Greyback snarled, gripping his wrist in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of arterial blood.
"You're gonna bleed out if you don't do something about your wrist," Tony pointed out, watching the steady dripping congeal into a pool at his feet. Fenrir turned and left without another word. Tony was certain this fight was not over, just the phase, but it was enough.
"You must be out of your mind!" Sasha said after a moment of silence in the bar. Tony wasn't sure how to respond, but when he turned to face her, she didn't have the appalled look he was expecting. She looked impressed, and his chest swelled with pride. He'd beaten a fucking alpha.