Chapter 38 Mordaunt's Visitors
POV: Lord Silvain Mordaunt
Location: Kensington Mansion
Time: Same Week
I'm receiving visitors today. Three appointments. Each represents different scheme in progress.
First appointment: Sir Rupert Harborough. Corrupt judge who convicted Callum Brennan. He arrives precisely on time, carrying documents.
"Lord Mordaunt. Thank you for seeing me."
"Rupert. What brings you here?"
"Another opportunity. Similar to the Brennan situation." Harborough spreads documents across my desk. "Alpha Magnus has rival. Young wolf named Connor. Strong, popular, threatening Magnus's position."
"And Magnus wants him eliminated?"
"Framed and imprisoned. Same methodology we used with Callum Brennan. Fabricate evidence, ensure conviction, remove threat permanently." Harborough shows me the proposed evidence. "Murder of human, embezzlement of pack funds. Standard charges."
"How much is Magnus paying?"
"Twenty thousand pounds. Plus favors to be determined later."
I review the documents. The fabrication is professional. Mrs. Blackwood's work again. She's excellent at creating false financial trails.
"Approved. Proceed with the frame. I'll ensure the evidence reaches supernatural enforcement. You ensure the conviction."
"Of course. When do you want the trial?"
"Three months. Give time for evidence to be discovered naturally. Make it look legitimate." I set aside the documents. "And Rupert, make sure Connor gets the full sentence. Six months in the Cage. I want to see how another pack wolf handles imprisonment."
"Understood."
Harborough leaves. I'm alone for fifteen minutes before my second appointment.
The second visitor is a group. Five Parliament members. All vampire, all ancient, all corrupt.
They file into my study and sit. I pour blood-wine for everyone.
"Gentlemen. You called this meeting. What requires discussion?"
The eldest Parliament member, Lord Ashford, speaks first. "The blood club regulations. The Veil is thinning in areas where we operate multiple clubs. Humans are starting to notice supernatural activity."
"How many incidents?"
"Seventeen this month. Humans seeing vampires feed. Humans remembering encounters with thralls. Humans questioning why certain establishments are off-limits." Ashford pulls out reports. "The Veil holds but it's strained. We need to reduce club density or strengthen the Veil."
"Strengthening the Veil is expensive. Requires ritual magic and fae cooperation. Neither is easily arranged." I consider alternatives. "Reducing club density is simpler. Close the poorly performing locations. Consolidate operations into flagship establishments."
"That reduces income."
"Short term. Long term, it prevents Veil failure. Which would be catastrophic." I make the decision. "Close fifteen clubs. Keep the most profitable. Strengthen Veil protections around remaining locations. Begin implementation next month."
The Parliament members agree. They don't like reducing income but they understand necessity.
"One more thing," Lord Ashford adds. "The packless wolves. They're organizing in the Rookeries. Woman named Isla Reid runs shelter network. If this continues, packless wolves might become political faction."
"I'm aware. I've been monitoring the situation."
"Should we eliminate her?"
"Not yet. She might be useful. Organized packless wolves could serve our purposes if properly controlled." I explain my thinking. "Let her build. Let the network grow. When timing's right, we recruit her. Offer funding in exchange for cooperation. If she refuses, elimination is still option."
"And if she accepts?"
"Then we control packless population through her. Which gives Parliament influence over segment of supernatural London we've never effectively managed." I smile. "Patience. Long-term thinking. That's how we win."
The Parliament members leave satisfied. I've given them direction. Solved their problems. Maintained my position as strategist they depend on.
Third appointment arrives an hour later. Cormac Brennan. Young Alpha. My puppet.
Cormac looks worse than last time I saw him. More paranoid. More stressed. Leadership is eating him alive.
"Lord Mordaunt. Thank you for meeting with me."
"Cormac. Sit. You look troubled."
"It's Callum. My brother. He's been released to the Rookeries." Cormac sits heavily. "I thought prison would break him completely. But I've heard reports. He's surviving. Fighting in pits. Getting stronger."
"This bothers you?"
"He could be threat. If he survives long enough to build connections, he might try revenge. Might expose what I did." Cormac's voice is shaking. "Should I have him killed? I can arrange accident. Make it look like Rookeries violence."
I consider this. Eliminating Callum would remove Cormac's paranoia. Would secure his position permanently.
But it would also waste investment. I've spent resources keeping Callum alive through prison. Ensuring his release. Monitoring his activities.
I want to see what he becomes. Want to see if prison created useful tool or broken victim.
"No," I say firmly. "Don't kill him."
"But he's threat."
"Potential threat. Maybe. But killing him now is premature." I stand and pour whiskey for Cormac. "Your brother's been in Rookeries one week. He has no pack, no resources, no allies. He's barely surviving. That's not threatening. That's pathetic."
"What if he survives? What if he builds something?"
"Then we reassess. But for now, let's see what he builds. Might be useful. Might be entertaining." I hand Cormac the whiskey. "Besides, killing him creates problems. People ask questions. Parliament investigates. Your pack members wonder why you're eliminating already-neutralized threat."
"So I just. watch him?"
"Exactly. Monitor him. Document his activities. Report anything concerning. But don't intervene." I sit back down. "Your brother is broken wolf in the Rookeries. There's ninety percent chance he dies within a year. Feral, violence, silver poisoning, something will kill him. Why risk exposure by killing him yourself?"
Cormac drinks the whiskey. "You're right. I'm being paranoid."
"You're being cautious. That's good. But direct your caution productively. Focus on consolidating pack power. Expanding territory. Building alliances. Let your brother rot in the Rookeries."
"Understood."
Cormac leaves after another twenty minutes. I've calmed his paranoia. Prevented him from making stupid decision. Maintained my investment in Callum's development.
This is the game. Managing multiple schemes simultaneously. Manipulating multiple pawns. Advancing multiple agendas.
Harborough will frame another rival. Eliminate another threat for another Alpha. More puppets. More control.
Parliament will reduce blood clubs. Strengthen Veil. Prevent exposure. Maintain system.
Cormac will leave Callum alive. Allow my experiment to continue. Provide entertainment.
And Callum? Callum will keep fighting in the Rookeries. Keep surviving against odds. Keep becoming whatever prison and trauma make him.
Maybe he dies. That's most likely outcome. Broken wolves usually don't last.
But maybe he survives. Maybe he becomes something unexpected. Something useful.
Something dangerous.
I'm patient. Six hundred years teaches patience. I can wait to see which outcome manifests.
All my schemes work on long timelines. Decades of careful manipulation. Centuries of accumulated power.
The Brennan situation is just one of many. But it's an interesting one. Two brothers, both corrupted by my influence. Both serving my purposes in different ways.
Cormac thinks he's independent Alpha. Doesn't realize I've controlled him since before his father died.
Callum thinks he's free. Doesn't realize I arranged his survival. That I'm watching his development. That I might have uses for broken, angry, revenge-driven wolf.
They're both mine. Both pieces on my chessboard.
And I'm enjoying the game immensely.