Blake had to look twice across the amphitheater. No, it can’t be. I left him and the pack in Berkley.
Blake thought back to 1968, that time in Berkley when he had just come over from Ireland. Instead of going to New York like the rest of his family, he crossed the country by hitchhiking and got to the center of the drug culture that was Berkley. Mind you, five years had gone by since it was the “center”, but it was still hopping from an artist’s point of view.
He took a few US law classes, passed the bar, and proceeded to represent the artists and mutants of the day. That’s how he met James.
James Woods, alpha male of the Pack of the Golden Sun, located in Los Angeles, not too far from where he was. James, never Jim, was a dignified handsome man, allegedly older than the rest of them, even older than him. He spoke of the Wild West of California’s Gold Rush as if he’d been there. He looked the part, with muttonchops and short black and graying hair.
Blake had represented one of the members of the pack who had fallen off a garage roof and was suing the insurance company of the homeowners. Blake did not specialize in trip-and-falls; he was more of a criminal lawyer, but his reputation had permeated the underground. James seemed to have an unlimited list of clients and an unlimited bank account. He found himself representing the Pack of the Golden Sun in almost every instance they came in contact with the law.
It seemed only natural that he join the pack, then. It also seemed only natural that James select him as a Beta.
Then the pack turned ugly. In 1980, there was a huge ruckus. A new generation wanted power in the pack, and shifters were starting to no longer seem such a threat. James, uncharacteristically, suddenly abdicated and disappeared. The pack looked to Blake. Blake was only a Beta, he never was an Alpha, and he couldn’t turn all of his energy and effort into being an Alpha of a pack. He left as well, on good terms.
Now he looked across the theater to see the man who had abandoned them all. He didn’t know whether to walk up to him to shake his hand or slug him.
James then turned and caught his eye too. James was the one who started moving through the crowd toward him. Blake could run, but he was never the type to run from a confrontation. He stood his ground as James came up to him. He smelled the same, of cigarettes and wolf.
“Blake,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“James,” Blake said. He held out his hand, his body making the decision for him. James shook it, strong, firm, the Alpha.
“Buy you a drink?”
Blake shrugged. “Not that Caprice place.”
“No. Somewhere quiet.”
“I know a place.”
They walked out of Ren Center, away from the crowd for Sapphire, and headed up the ramp toward the elevator to the airship above. It would be expensive, but it would certainly be quiet. “What have you been up to?” He asked when he got on the airship elevator.
James looked around and stayed close to the doors of the elevator. He had always been claustrophobic. “Building a pack,” he said.
“Did you?”
“No.”
There was silence. Blake studied him. Still the same salt and pepper hair, muttonchops, ruggedly built, pack of Marlboro’s would be found in the man’s chest pocket. James watched the doors and nearly jumped out onto the deck when the doors opened.
Blake walked him along the deck and they went to the airship’s finer restaurant that gave panoramic views of the city. Not knowing if James was afraid of heights as well as claustrophobic, he took a seat at the bar which mirrored the cloudy view outside. James visibly relaxed with a beer in his hand. “What about you?” James asked.
“I’m a lawyer here in town.”
“Still doing artists?”
Blake knew that question could be taken two ways: Sexually and professionally.
“No,” he said, “I’m doing shifters and their girlfriends. And a mage.”
He didn’t pick up on that, instead suddenly asking, “How’s your wife?”
“We divorced. She got cancer and died.”
James stopped himself in mid-drink. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Blake shrugged. “It’s the way things go sometimes.”
They drank in silence for a few minutes, and the waitress came, taking their order. James ordered a steak “As rare as you’re allowed” and drank his beer again. “So what are your plans, James?”
“I don’t know. I might rebuild the pack.”
He shook his head, “That’s a bad idea, James. There’s tons of wolves here, with their own packs. They’re not what they used to be.”
“You don’t want to be a beta again?”
“I don’t have the time to be a beta. I barely have enough time to keep up a relationship.”
“You’re going out with someone?”
“A mage.”
James drank, draining the beer. “Is she like Judy?”
“He’s not.”
He stared at Blake over the table. “He?”
Blake drained his beer and waved the waitress over. “Yeah.”
James wouldn’t cause a scene when the waitress was there, but Blake waited. James prided himself on his conquests, keeping notches on his bedpost for the many women he brought home. He wasn’t quite a homophobe, but he didn’t like the idea one bit. Now his Beta was admitting that he was gay, and Blake was expecting a lecture, or at least a cold shoulder.
“Good for you,” James said, leaning back in the seat.
Blake felt his world go topsy-turvy. An attorney was bred to expect reactions from people, and to hear that reaction from James made him blink in surprise. “You don’t think I’m weak or prissy?”
“I know you, Blake. You’re what…butch? Is that what they call it?”
“I don’t know – ”
“But I know you. You’re not weak or a pussy. If that’s what you like, then all the more power to you.” He saluted with his new beer. “You still like girls, right?”
“Yeah.”
“More choices in the world,” said James with a grin. And then their meals came.