Chapter 40 The Poisoned Cup
POV: Isla Reid
Location: Whitechapel Shelter
Time: Same Week
The vampire arrives at my shelter in the middle of the day. That's unusual. Most vampires avoid daylight even though it doesn't kill them. Weakens them but doesn't destroy them.
This one is strong enough not to care. Ancient. Four or five hundred years old based on the power radiating off him.
Sophie intercepts him at the door. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Isla Reid. Tell her Lord Ashford requests meeting."
Lord Ashford. That's a Parliament name. One of the five who run the Crimson Parliament.
This is either very good or very bad. Parliament doesn't visit Rookeries shelters for social calls.
I come to the door. "Lord Ashford. I'm Isla Reid. What can I do for you?"
"May we speak privately?" His voice is cultured, aristocratic. Someone who's been powerful for centuries.
I lead him to my small office. It's barely a room. Desk, two chairs, filing cabinet. But it's private.
Ashford sits and surveys the space with barely concealed disdain. This office is poverty compared to what he's used to.
"Your shelters are impressive," Ashford begins. "Three locations. Seventy-four packless wolves. Network growing monthly. You've built something significant."
"I help newly turned wolves survive. That's all."
"That's not all. You're organizing them. Providing structure. Creating community." Ashford leans forward. "The Crimson Parliament has been watching your work. We're interested in supporting it."
"Supporting how?"
"Financially. We're prepared to donate ten thousand pounds monthly to your operations. Provide supplies, medical equipment, legal protection. Everything you need to expand."
Ten thousand pounds monthly. That's transformative money. That would let me open five more shelters. Help hundreds more wolves.
It's also too good to be true.
"What's the price?" I ask.
"Cooperation. Simple cooperation." Ashford pulls out a contract. "You continue running your shelters. We provide funding. In exchange, you encourage some of your wolves to participate in voluntary programs."
"What kind of programs?"
"Blood donation programs. Some vampires prefer werewolf blood. It's stronger than human. More potent. We pay wolves who donate. Good money. Everyone benefits."
Blood donation. That's code for feeding programs. For creating thralls. For turning desperate wolves into vampire slaves.
"You want me to provide young wolves as food for vampires."
"We want you to offer them opportunities. Wolves who need money can choose to donate blood. Completely voluntary. No coercion." Ashford's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Think of it as employment. We pay well. Better than fighting pits or theft."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we don't fund you. Your shelters continue operating on stolen food and charitable donations. You help maybe a hundred wolves instead of five hundred." Ashford's voice hardens. "Or worse. Your shelters exist because we allow it. Parliament could decide packless wolves organizing is threat. Could shut you down. Arrest you for harboring criminals. Make your life very difficult."
There it is. The threat under the offer. Accept vampire funding and feed them wolves. Or refuse and face consequences.
"I need to think about this."
"Of course. Take your time." Ashford stands. "I'll leave this contract for your review. And please, accept this gift. Token of Parliament's goodwill."
He sets a bottle of wine on my desk. Expensive-looking. Red wine with fancy label.
"Thank you. I'll review the contract and contact you."
"I look forward to hearing from you." Ashford leaves.
I stare at the wine bottle. Something about it feels wrong. Why would ancient vampire give me expensive wine as goodwill gesture?
I examine it closely. The seal is intact. The label is real. But there's something off about the color. Too dark. Too thick.
I take the bottle to the back room where I keep medical supplies. Find a testing kit for common poisons. Apply sample of the wine to the test strip.
It turns purple immediately. Positive for wolfsbane.
Wolfsbane is toxic to werewolves. Not lethal usually. But it causes paralysis. Makes us vulnerable. Helpless.
If I'd drunk this wine, I would have been paralyzed for hours. Possibly days. Completely at Ashford's mercy.
This wasn't goodwill gift. This was attempted poisoning.
The message is clear. Accept Parliament's offer or face consequences. The wine was warning. Demonstration of what they could do.
I pour the poisoned wine down the drain. Carefully dispose of the bottle. Can't leave evidence lying around.
Sophie finds me in the back room. "What did Lord Ashford want?"
"To buy us. Offered ten thousand pounds monthly in exchange for feeding young wolves to vampires."
"What did you say?"
"I said I'd think about it. Then he left poisoned wine that would have paralyzed me." I show Sophie the positive test strip. "Wolfsbane. If I'd drunk it, I'd be helpless right now."
Sophie's face goes pale. "They're threatening you. Parliament's threatening you."
"Yes. Which means my network is becoming problem for them. Too successful. Too independent. They want to control it or destroy it."
"What do we do?"
"We refuse their offer. Keep operating independently. But we need protection." I think about who could help. "I need to talk to Callum. The wolf from the Cage."
"The dangerous one? Why him?"
"Because dangerous is what we need right now. Parliament's coming after us. We need someone who can fight back. Who's already survived worse than they can throw at us." I make the decision. "Find him. Tell him I need to meet. Tonight."
Sophie leaves to find Callum. I'm left staring at the drain where I poured poisoned wine.
This is what happens when packless wolves organize. When we build something real. Powers-that-be try to control or destroy it.
I've been helping wolves for eighteen months. Thought I was doing good work. Thought I was staying under the radar.
But I'm not under the radar anymore. Parliament notices. Parliament threatens. Parliament poisons.
If I'm going to survive this, if my network is going to survive, I need allies. Need protection. Need wolves who can fight.
Callum's dangerous. Prison-hardened. Broken in ways that make him unpredictable.
But he's also strong. Capable. And he has nothing to lose.
That makes him exactly what I need.
I just hope he agrees to help. Hope he sees value in protecting packless wolves. Hope he's not so broken that he only cares about survival.
Because if he refuses, I'm facing Parliament alone. And that's a fight I can't win.