Chapter 199: Scaredy Cat

May’s POV

It felt like we were getting closer, and I didn’t know what would happen if this dragged on. The killing of the werewolves, the fire we’d sparked: whoever failed to act fast would end up losing in the long run.

The wolves on this side kept taking the wolfsbane, and it was almost obvious now that they were losing their wolves. We were winning here.

Then President Jackson returned from his visit to Morvaine and summoned Tony and me to a private meeting.

We left immediately. Nobody was stupid enough to be late for a meeting the president himself had called.

They didn’t take us to the main hall where general meetings were held. Instead, we were led to a small, enclosed room where the president waited alone. Before we entered, we were searched for anything that could implicate us: phones, recorders, even the pen in my pocket. My palms were damp by the time they let us through.

The president kept a straight face, and God, I was afraid of that face. Tony, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed. I guessed he’d been dealing with President Jackson long enough to stop feeling the chill.

"Hello, Mr. President," we said.

He gestured for us to sit.

"What is this thing I just heard on my trip to Morvaine?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Tony.

"What exactly did they tell you, sir?" Tony asked, and my heart began to race. The president was really angry. I could see it in the vein pulsing at his temple.

"You know exactly what I’m talking about. You used the tools we left in your care to bomb werewolves in Morvaine, they retaliated, and only then did you come to me?" His voice was tight with fury.

"Everything they told you is true, Mr. President," Tony replied calmly. "But I haven’t misused the tools entrusted to me. The werewolves are a threat to our existence. That’s why I did what I did in the beginning."

The president rose from his seat. "You made me look like a fool in front of everyone! I looked like the liar, and that was because I didn’t have the full story from you, Tony!" His voice rang off the walls, louder than before.

I sat frozen, thinking, We’re in trouble. Why the fuck had he brought me here if he was only going to shout at Tony? Would I get the same punishment? Oh yes, I had followed Tony to carry out his fucking plan. My stomach dropped as it hit me that I’d signed my name on this too.

"I’m not saying you shouldn’t do these things," the president continued, lowering his voice. "But next time, carry me along. There’s an easier and faster way to do it."

I looked up at him to be sure I’d heard right. He was encouraging this? What was he on about?

"I’m sorry, Mr. President, it won’t happen again," Tony said. "I thought I could handle it on my own and make you proud. I was wrong."

"You should have told me. None of them would be alive right now. You don’t even need to go there. All we have to do is send a missile and wipe them all out."

So President Jackson was supporting the motion. Great. Now we were talking.

"You’re right, sir. It’s not too late to implement that plan," Tony said.

The president sat back down. "I do believe werewolves are dangerous, and they’re a threat to our existence. They’re parasites, and this has been long overdue. Our fathers tried to live with them, to subdue them, to make peace. I think wiping them out is the only answer."

I was shocked to hear those words from his mouth. I had always believed he loved people. Maybe everyone’s heart was evil now, mine included.

"Mr. President, I have a plan," Tony said, "but it will take twelve months to mature. During that period, we’ll need all the technological assistance we can get."

"What is this plan?"

"We recruited rogue wolves and convinced them to kill their own people. They’ve been taking wolfsbane, and in exactly twelve months, they’ll turn completely human. They can lead the war front and fight until their last breath. We’re not leaving a single werewolf alive."

A slow smile spread across the president’s face. "I like it."

He leaned forward. "We’ll follow that plan. In twelve months, the armies and war machines will be ready. All werewolves must die."

"All werewolves must die," Tony echoed.

It hit me then that this wasn’t just Tony’s obsession anymore. Everyone hated werewolves. It was a general thing. They were going to die, and once President Jackson said he’d do something, he followed it through to the end.

We shook his hand and took our leave.

In the car on the way home, I stared out the window, my thoughts heavy. Twelve months. A year to wipe out an entire people.

"Don’t worry, May, it’ll be alright," Tony said, smiling. "It’s all a matter of time."

Of course he was smiling. When it came to an apocalypse, he always did. He loved killing people, and I never saw the need for it. They were on their own now. Fuck!

I got home with a single thought burning in my head: if the world was about to end, I had to do what I needed to do, and quickly.

Ciro the hacker was waiting in the hall. "What happened in the meeting?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

I couldn’t tell him. None of it was his business, and the wolves would be human soon enough anyway. But something about his curious, harmless face made my chest ache. He was alive, and so was I, and neither of us knew for how long.

"I want to talk to you privately," I said.

He took off his glasses and followed me to the back of the house, where nobody could see us.

"What is it you want to talk about?" he asked.

"It’s going to sound strange. Hope you’re used to weird?"

"I’m used to weird. I’m weird myself, so..." He laughed, and I laughed with him. It was the first real laugh I’d had in weeks, and it nearly broke me.

"You know there’ll be a war soon," I said, "and before it starts, I want to settle some things. One of them has to do with my body."

I stepped closer until his back was pressed against the wall. I laid my hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat stutter beneath my palm.

"What... what has to do with your body?" His voice cracked.

"I need love. I need romance. I need someone to fuck me." I held his gaze, refusing to look away, though my own heart was pounding. I wasn’t just being bold. I was terrified, and I was tired of dying before I had ever really lived.

"Whoa. Are you... are you for real?"

"How can I joke about something like that?" I kept my hand on him, and he trembled.

"That’s a very big thing you’re asking for," he said, and then he slipped out from under my hand and ran.

I stood there alone, my palm still warm from his chest, feeling more foolish than I’d ever felt in my life. He was a scaredy-cat who couldn’t fuck, I guessed.

But as the silence settled in, a colder thought crept in behind the embarrassment: if I couldn’t even get one man to stay, what exactly was I fighting to survive for?