I glanced at the text, unable to help a small smile. I put my phone away and glanced outside. The rain was a constant, moving force on the glass. Outside dark clouds covered the sky. I could hear the usual debates going on and was dreadfully bored of it. In fact a lot had been boring until that night at the club. I knew I was taking a risk. Luca was different, and clearly lonely. It was what drew me to him. But I knew the kiss was a mistake. One he was more likely to pay the price for. What I couldn't do was ignore him – though I certainly had tried pushing him from my mind. I knew I was being selfish. I was bored and he was a good distraction from that. Besides, I did remember what it used to be like. Back when being gay meant a hanging and not just stares.
“William, what do you have to say?” Vincent's harsh voice cut through my thoughts. I pushed back a sigh. Luca's description was pretty accurate, but someone had to do this. I shot everyone a look. On one side on the table were four of us. On the other was Davis and Peter.
“I say let them do what they want,” I shrugged from where I sat. Blue moons were a big deal to their kind. It was an eventuality that they'd all gather here for one. This was where the peace was best maintained – recent events aside. Francis and his group were the first real threat in a while. It's why I wanted them banished form our world. Now, others who shared their beliefs knew they could get away with it. All thanks to Vincent. He'd always hated the treaty, so I wasn't especially surprised when he pulled rank. I was no fool to think Francis was behind this though. Nor Gregory. Vincent was the one who turned them. There was only ten years of difference between us, but they still counted. I couldn't openly accuse him, no matter how much I wanted too. I just had to hope none of Davis' pack got pulled in by their taunts.
“But the risk. Especially after what happened two nights ago-” Roderick began. I rolled my eyes at his irritating voice.
“What happened won't happen again. No one's dumb enough to break the treaty when there are that many werewolves around,” I interrupted. He shot me a dirty look that didn't even register as mattering in my mind.
“And what if the large gathering of werewolves decide to break the treaty,” Vincent growled. There was silence, and an instant ramp up of tensions levels in the room.
“I can control my own people,” Davis said. His voice surprisingly calm, his face a mask. Unlike Peter, he didn't show his anger at the accusation.
“We're not free killers like your kind,” Peter added, as if reading my thoughts. I wanted to send him away for the words. Not because I took offence – I've definitely been called worse – but because he was more of a hindrance to Davis' efforts, than he was helpful.
“Maybe you haven't been around long enough to see a werewolf go mad, but I've seen a few. Not many humans are safe when that happens,” Clara murmured. I raised an eyebrow at her words and she smiled, catching the gesture. She gave the smallest of shrugs, making her brown curls tumble as she did. “I am not against your request. I just felt it should be said,” she added before Peter could sprout a reply. Vincent muttered a curse under his breath. As always he was dressed in a dark suit. His white hair a stark contract. Vincent was the only of us who had searched out immortality when his life was reaching its end. The change had smoothed out his winkles, but anyone who saw him knew he was old. Maybe too old, and starting to lose sense.