Of Superior Design

Prologue

*Preceding events of record are recalled in song-song style, unnecessary for those of recent acquaintance. Apologies to any with poetic sympathies.*

In the beginning war was ever at hand

One ruled the skies the other the land

Technology advanced and science kept pace

They could not get along so ventured to space

The planets were seeded with proxy fighters the norm

The two grew immortal and shed physical form

Superiors were bred and chaos ruled the day

They ravaged over all till Heaven entered the fray

Flooding and freeze employed to rid them their plight

But they clung on for life to Heaven’s surprising delight

Gifts were imbued and Nature urged to play

They were the answer to Hell the Hoard on the way

Vampires were born female perfection in sight

Seduction and stealth over muscle and might

Wolves were different a separate breed apart

They were schooled in the ways of death’s bloody art

Perfection was high a generational cost

Bodies rebelled and many unborn were lost

Litters were needed and Human beings were bled

For Superior development while pregnant Vampires fed

Human blood was required for life to survive

Allowed to exist keeping Heaven’s hopes alive

The Vamps wrote the acts as Heaven directed the play

The Wolves played their roles as predator or prey

Creative design employed at Heaven’s request

For they held a vision in mind a super-warrior contest

A genetic print was emplaced Wolf and Vampire the seed

What they wanted and desired was a new breed to feed

The future began a superior product arrived

The Wolves fought their brothers and Vampires contrived

They planned and schemed as was their innate desire

For they were bred to dominate and compelled to conspire

The clans were implemented according to deed

A hierarchy was formed through graft and greed

Success was based on strength and speed

Cunning and wit either win or bleed

They mated in pairs to form the whole

A Vamp at the top with familiar control

An Alpha alongside to fight for his pride

His feminine mate plotting at his side

Wit and prowess were desperately needed

Judged by business success family position was seeded

Fame and fortune were never really the goal

Merely actors in the game with a superior role

Three tribes made a clan three clans held sway

All biding their time till Judgment Day

The future arrived as twins were born

One viewed with potential the other with scorn

They were raised apart for all Superiors agreed

With Yang in his presence Yin was different indeed

A Cloak by birth it was a necessary cover

Yang’s blood hid his scent from his murderous brother

Yin would grow to the greatest Wolf ever known

He would reign in the east on an iron throne

Yang was the weakest, barely even a pup

But his blood held promise so Heaven’s mood perked up

The four were bred from one Wolf alone

Lucifer stood over all a mountain of stone

An image of death a monstrous brute

They met in the pit to end the dispute

Yin would prevail but spared the other his sake

For the blood of his father he was loathe to take

The clans were then ruled by a leader with might

Helped by another the weakest in sight

A plan was designed formed and hatched

As assassin was picked armed and dispatched

But she made a mistake and wound up dead

She approached from behind and Yang removed her head

He’d made his choice without any decree

He’d chosen his sister he picked Merri Li

The death of a Vamp was a serious crime

They bred only once and were running short on time

The Hoard was coming the Heaven’s all but swore

A Superior merging needed to win the war

The three took flight and beheadings began

Many against few who struck killed then ran

The clans were losing for they’d lost their scent

With Yang in the mix their numbers were spent

A blow was dealt and an answer was shown

Kill the weakest Wolf in the clan and return the throne

A meeting was held and a truce was signed

They would rule two clans till the end of time

Yang was forbidden and was forced to flee

He’d committed the act of a Catastrophe

There was always another who hid in the dark

The twin daughter of Joan titled Melissa De Arc

Her mother had bred with a plan in her head

Challenge the Wolf’s mate and rule First Clan in her stead

She held the twins aloft for all to see

But Lucifer denied they were his prodigy

She went to war and many fell in her wake

But she eventually found death and was burned at the stake

Merri Li was raised by the clan to the east

While Melissa was huddled in the belly of the beast

Yang was alive and always around

For he hid her scent so she could not be found.

Yin took Merri Li as his Superior mate

But they would never be intimate for she knew of his fate

Yin was the one Heaven had always in mind

For he was unbeatable in battle and the end of his kind

He agreed to the truce and issued his approval

Yang was sentenced to die for Vampire removal

Yang walked away and marched through the interior

No Wolf paid attention for his scent was Inferior

He took one of his kind his half-sister Vamp

A superior mind with the need to decamp

They went to America in search of Third kind

Yin returned to Second and Merri Li stayed behind

Three clans were the norm and peace ruled the land

But the Heavens were not happy without a merger at hand

The plan had been simple the idea unique

Implant the need to dominate allowing Nature’s interest to peak

Let evolution run wild after importing the design

Wait for mutation to adapt improve and refine

The experiment was done without malice or strife

It was their purpose after all their meaning for life

The Heavens were tasked with universal control

They fought their other half for its celestial soul

But Superior minds all thought the same

What would be their response to the end of the game

If a cure was found why keep the lotion

When Daemon was born he only reinforced the notion

He was all three in one Wolf Vamp and Cloak

His birth was kept secret through mirrors and smoke

If Heaven found out where would they stand

Would they retain the old with victory at hand

*Forthcoming events are the summarized synopsis, points of view, description, beliefs, and emotions supplemented by a neutral party for historical reference. Though facts remain indisputable, personal thoughts and motivations may be subject to interpretation and are not considered dogma.*

Chapter 1

The house was a plantation; a southern mansion promoting inherited privilege born from forced labor, forty acres of manicured lawn complete with fountain, circular driveway, and chauffeured sedans. Both men exited separate vehicles and scanned the area, each impressed by its beauty, repulsed by history. They walked up white stone stairs to the front door, knocked, and waited.

May I help you?

The male who answered was stereotypic; pristine and proper, a tuxedo wearing white gloves.

I’m Detective Smith and this is Detective Wesson. We have an appointment.

The man nodded his head, stepped out of the entranceway, allowed both men inside, and bid them wait while he found his master.

Did he just say ‘master’? Smith asked.

I believe he did Wesson replied.

They stood in the grand ballroom and took in the surroundings. The floor was impeccably clean waxed marble with an ornamental rug on which stood a white pedestal adorned with a glass vase of opaque blue. The stairwell directly in front, the one the servant climbed to fetch the master, was ten feet wide, forty steps high, and along the walls leading upward were murals of men and women from past ages. An enormous crystal chandelier hung from the thirty-foot ceiling and the sleuths aware, if it fell they would perish.

Gentlemen, may I present Mistress Vivian LeTorque. Mistress, these are Detectives Smith and Wesson.

The woman walking down the stairwell was the most beautiful creature either man had ever seen, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure worth every penny of gym membership. She wore a black dress with stilettos and appeared at ease navigating the seven-inch drops of marble stepping-stones.

Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to meet you she said while lifted her hand first to Smith then to Wesson, both of whom took it in somewhat shocked amazement because their eyes were adjusting to feminine perfection.

Mistress Vivian? the servant asked.

Yes, Nat?

I’ve set coffee and cakes in the visiting chambers for your meeting with these gentlemen. If you would follow me?

They trailed the man into a room on the first floor where indeed, refreshments were waiting. They sat down, Smith and Wesson on a blue couch, the Mistress Vivian LeTorque on a white decorative chair. The servant, Nat, poured coffee for three, handed out delectable pastries, and moved to the back wall.

Gentlemen? Vivian asked.

Yes! they both responded together which was a bit odd since they generally remained stoic when dealing with new clients.

They were the two top investigators for Craft and Sons, a private-detective agency specializing in neutralizing problems for the wealthy who, for one reason or another, wished not to involve authorities.

I believe you’re wondering why I called you here.

Yes, Miss LeTorque, we are. We were a little confused as to why you couldn’t explain your situation over the phone. We usually get some of the facts up front before we agree to take a… Smith began but didn’t finish for he swore he heard a low growl emitting from somewhere to his rear, behind a wall where the servant stood.

Nat?

Yes, Mistress?

Please go tend to the inconsiderate brute growling in the other room.

Yes, Mistress he answered and walked out.

I’m sorry, gentlemen, we have certain… canines who are a bit protective of me when I’m around anyone they don’t know. Nat will take care of the problem. Please continue, Detective Smith.

Smith nodded his head while still slightly unnerved because he could honestly say he’d never heard a growl of its like before. It was a most menacing sound. It hadn’t been loud and didn’t last long but the timbre of tone held qualities of death.

Um, where was I?

You were explaining why my being so mysterious was troubling for you.

Oh, yes. As I was saying we like to do a little research before we begin negotiations. It’s not because we don’t trust our potential clients, far from it. We do not judge anyone for we are here to solve problems not create them. The reason for our prescreening process is to satisfy ourselves whether we could actually perform the services required. Please understand, we hold to a very high standard in Craft and Sons and only take cases we feel could possibly succeed. It doesn’t mean we always do succeed, only that we have the resources necessary to make a reasonable effort. I don’t mean to toot our horn, but I must say the business model has been very good to us and we have a success rate in the ninety percentile range.

Yes, I’ve heard your company was the best and I further heard you two were the best in your company. It’s why I’ve chosen you.

While Smith was listening to the gorgeous blonde, Wesson was taking in the surroundings. It was the way they worked; Smith was more engaging and Wesson the observant one. It made them the top detectives in the top firm in the greater Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. What he noticed was an opulent palace adorned with exquisite items on every wall, shelf, table, and ceiling. The paintings were masterpieces of the various ages; romantic, classical, Victorian, modern, Avant-guard. The vases, plates, glasses, and other show-pieces were of similar quality and he surmised he was witnessing vast wealth with the ability to acquire treasures throughout the world. The funny thing was how everything was hung or sat. He could see no wires, protective cases, or anything of security in nature around the priceless artworks. He was an expert on theft and knew it possible to hide a system but also knew the disadvantages of doing so. Displaying alarms dissuaded others with notorious motives. It was why home-security companies hung signs on their clients’ domiciles. A potential thief would bypass the home advertising protection and move on to one which didn’t. The amount of wealth on display in the LeTorque Manor was almost asking a would-be convict to attempt overnight easy-street. It was as though Miss LeTorque was actually daring them to do so and had absolute faith they would or could not. He was silently pondering his thoughts when he noticed Smith and the Lady LeTorque arrive at a point in conversation where the actual meat of information was to be revealed.

What exactly can we do for you, Miss LeTorque? Smith asked.

I need you to find someone for me.

Who?

His name is Johnny Johnson.

Okay Smith answered as he wrote the man’s name in his notebook.

He’s a family member who has gone missing she added.

Gone missing?

Yes.

Smith leaned forward and addressed the beauty in black.

Miss LeTorque, I think it’s important for you to know, if he is wanted by the authorities we will not break the law in abetting his escape. Now, we are willing to track down those on the lam but we will not shelter him from…

He’s not wanted by the authorities.

Oh, okay, can you tell me why you think he’s gone missing?

Because he is not here.

Sorry, I meant is there a reason to believe he’s gone missing and isn’t merely on a personal vacation of some kind?

Yes, because he’s running for his life.

The statement received the detectives’ full attention.

Excuse me? interrupted Wesson.

Yes, Detective?

You said he’s running for his life?

Yes.

From who?

She paused before answering.

This is where it gets a bit murky. You see, Johnny is part of our family and our family is rather powerful in this little world of ours and… well… lately things have changed whereby his death would allow other powerful players to acquire what we possess.

What do you possess, Lady Vivian? asked Wesson.

The smile which crept on her face made it appear the sun had arisen from long hibernation. Both detectives were amazed they could be even more awestruck by the beauty of the woman, but they were wrong. She was mesmerizing.

We possess the answer to the question, Detective.

What question, Miss Vivian?

The meaning of life.

Chapter 2

The estate was nothing as they expected, neither large nor grandiose, it was a small house located in a small village. The countryside was exactly as they’d been told, full green foliage, breathtaking scenery, and the feeling of paradise on Earth where nature reigned supreme.

This is it? Philip inquired.

"Yes, lovely isn’t it? Trudy responded.

Well, yeah, but…

But what?

Where are the restaurants? I heard they had incredible restaurants.

The village was more a hamlet with one main road running along the southern perimeter and branching off, smaller pathways made of brick and stone which would be impassable by most North American vehicles. Small cars were the norm, the smaller the better. The culture was different than the States, technology adapted to environment, not the other way around.

Should we visit them right away?

No, they know were here. Let’s do a little sightseeing.

Phillip groaned inwardly for sightseeing was one of the few past-times he had absolutely no interest in. He didn’t understand his mate’s fascination with doo-dads. Any doo-dad, no matter how insignificant would undoubtedly cause her to lose all sensory perspective and stare in wonder for minutes on end at something which caught her eye. It could be a doll, picture, clothing, or even some tiny plant sitting in a pot doing nothing but existing. Unfortunately for him, he had no choice in the matter. Oh, he could sulk and she’d eventually notice and reluctantly leave but the consequences for doing so were something he wished to avoid. The problem he had was memory. It could be months afterward and he would completely forget he acted like a fool when something would occur which would somehow, someway, bring the situation back into play and he’d walk around for a week trying to figure how it was possible for her to remember so vividly what he only vaguely recalled.

Oh, Phillip, look at this. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?

Uh-huh.

He had no idea what he was looking at. It appeared to be an urn on a plate. It was white with light-blue flowers painted on its sides but there was something wrong with the rim for it was too big. He thought it could be some sort of chili-pot but the idea of using it to cook the meal seemed absurd. Besides, he might’ve been an ignoramus when it came to kitchenware but he wasn’t so stupid he didn’t notice it was made of porcelain. He racked his brain to remember if he’d ever seen a porcelain pot on top of the stove. In the oven… sure, but on top of the stove? No, he’d eaten enough to know he’d never seen one used over open flame.

Do you think I should buy it? she asked.

The question was difficult to answer because his brain was trying to discern what the confounded thing was. It had a large handle on its side so it could have been a pitcher but the rim was giving him a problem. Who in the world would make a pitcher conform to the dimensions of a bucket? A pitcher poured liquid so needed a rim designed for fluid to flow from one specific area instead of everywhere at once. But the dang thing was definitely a dish so it must have some purpose in the culinary arts. And it had a plate underneath. Which was also a bit weird because it had a raised rim. He was about to ask what the confusing cooking appliance was when he had an epiphany.

Yes, let’s buy it. It’d be excellent during football season.

During what? she asked.

Football season. It’d be perfect. We could set it down and use it during the games.

Football, the American kind, was the great equalizer in the world of Wolves. They were aggressive by nature so the sport held a strong place in their hearts. Pain with reward was its promise and to the male half of Superior stock it seemed the ideal way to prove oneself if actual combat unlikely. They understood why Humans no longer allowed for bloodlust, the price of medical care being what it was, so they thought football was a logical answer to man’s desire for violence.

So you could use it during football games?

Uh-huh, the guys and I have been looking for something like it. Oh, we found a couple other bowls to do the trick but nothing like this.

You what?

She was looking at him in a strange way. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong but he could tell it was something so he proceeded to explain.

We found some other bowls. Don’t worry, we always washed them when we were done. I know what a stickler you girls are with your cookware and all.

You washed them?

Yes, and put them right back where they came from.

You put them back?

Uh-huh, every time. Well except this one time when Johnny dropped the thing but we went right out and replaced it with another.

I cannot believe you!

He knew he was in trouble. He had no idea why but knew he was. Trudy had never been one to hold her feelings inside when it came to mistakes.

Huh?

What the heck are you thinking? Are you insane?

The question seemed a strange one because if he were insane would he even know? Didn’t insanity involve the belief, one was not insane?

What? I don’t see what the problem is?

You don’t see the problem? You don’t see…? Okay, calm down, calm down, he’s just a male and doesn’t know any better. He’s just a big old lummox with the brain of a turnip. Phillip?

Yes, dear?

How many bowls did you use?

Um, well, all of them.

All of them?

Uh-huh, and the pots.

And the pots?

Yes, oh… and probably all the coffee mugs too.

Have you lost your mind?

Once again the question posed had an underlying problem with its premise. If he lost his mind would he be aware?

Uh…?

And everyone did this?

Well, yeah, we were all watching the games together, and they sometimes go on for quite a while so…

I cannot believe this! Do you have any idea what this means?

Um… no?

He was as usual, completely confused.

We need to replace our entire dishware! My God, I can’t believe you could be so selfish! What, you couldn’t hold off for a little while longer? You couldn’t pause the game?

He finally had two questions he understood. He wasn’t stupid, he just didn’t speak Vamp.

Well, we could but it’s not the same as when it’s live. I don’t know why, but the excitement is so much better when it’s happening right in front of you.

Phillip!

Huh?

There is no justification for what you all did! None! Do you have any idea how the others are going to react when I tell them?

He really couldn’t figure out why she was so angry and responded accordingly.

Well, I hope a little more understanding than you’re being now.

Wrong answer.

Understanding? How can you possibly think I would be understanding about this? It’s disgusting! Oh my God! To think of how many times I’ve used those same dishes…

Trudy, what are you getting so upset about? We washed them.

It seemed a good explanation.

And you think that was okay?

Apparently it wasn’t.

Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?

Because of the germs you imbecile!

Germs! Of course! Now he had something to go on. Now he could explain his way out of the situation and return to the boredom of sight-seeing.

What germs? The dishwasher washes away germs.

Not those germs! Those are horrible germs, disgusting germs, nasty and vile germs.

He was a bit perplexed by her reaction.

Really? Huh, who’d of thought a little cheese and chips would be so…?

Cheese and chips?

Uh-huh.

Hold on. What are you talking about? she asked.

Food, of course.

Nachos. I’m sorry, honey, I had no idea melted cheese and tortilla chips left those kinds of germs. If I did, we definitely wouldn’t have used…

Nachos?

Yeah, for our football games. We kept running out of bowls for the dip and you know how the cheese leaves that weird residue when you’re done? Well, George didn’t like reusing it so we searched around for other bowls to…

Phillip?

Yes, dear?

What do you think this is? she said indicating the urn and plate.

A huge nacho platter and cheese bowl.

The look she gave him was filled with relief and pity. She was his mate and would die for him but at times his lack of information on certain matters was a bit tiring.

It’s not a nacho platter and cheese bowl.

It’s not?

No.

What is it?

A chamber-pot.

What’s a chamber-pot?

A miniature toilet.

Oh.

He was thinking maybe it did have a purpose after all. Maybe it would come in handy during times in a game where getting up was a little too inconvenient. He was about to say, they should definitely purchase it when he noticed the look on his mated’s face.

We’re not going to buy it, are we?

Not now we’re not.

The rest of the afternoon went as Phillip expected, he was bored and she wasn’t. She was infatuated with virtually everything she came across. The good thing though, was they were as wealthy as any two people could possibly get. They were in the family of LeTorque, the Elders of Third Clan, and they were there to speak with another of their kind. Another who was as they were, a breed apart.

What do you think about this? Trudy asked.

What is it? Phillip responded.

It’s a comb, Phillip, it’s just a comb.

Oh.

The day had droned on so long he could no longer discern difference between common-day items and those lost to the inventions of time. Everything Trudy produced appeared to be things they were not. A knife was instead, a shoe-horn. A shoe-horn became an egg beater. He was near his breaking point when an extraordinary event unfolded. They sensed her before she arrived, the shop door opened, and she entered.

Hello.

The woman who addressed them could be nothing but Vampire. She was refreshingly awe-inspiring with brown hair, black eyes, and golden skin. It was not uncommon for Wolves to make advances on Mistresses even if they were mated but the deed generally was done to promote themselves up the Clan’s hierarchal ladder. What Phillip saw was the exception to the rule. If Trudy were not his mate, not so beautiful herself, he could well imagine taking the prize as his own.

Trudy, for her part, knew the power beauty held. She could and had used it to her advantage. Men were the forces she controlled. They could be readily encouraged to do anything she wished by merely hinting what she desired. Trudy was red of hair, green of eyes, and pale of skin. She was in many men’s view, the ultimate in feminine seduction. She knew her power and wielded it wisely but the Vamp before her was setting a new example. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t moved since speaking ‘hello’, but the reaction of Phillip was self-evident; the woman was Superior.

Hello Trudy replied.

You are Trudy and Phillip LeTorque of Third Clan? the idol asked in a way which suggested the answer was a foregone conclusion.

Yes.

Hello, I am Merri Li, welcome to First Clan.

Chapter 3

Smith and Wesson were at the office informing their boss of what transpired.

Do we have a new client? Robert Craft asked.

Oh yeah Smith replied.

Robert Craft was one-half of the business empire, the other was Sebastian Sons. Many believed Robert had heirs since the name of the venture led them to think so. But he didn’t, he couldn’t, he was sterile. He’d faced cancer and won the battle but lost the war. He would go on living, write his own destiny, but when life was over so was his genetic code. He was the last of his kind. He had no immediate relatives and could sire no prodigy. Many men would succumb to the fruitlessness of attempting to leave a legacy but not him. He doubled-down and decided to make his mark, no matter the circumstances.

Okay, what do we have? asked Sebastian Sons.

We have an open-ended line of credit to find a missing man replied Wesson.

Open-ended? asked Craft.

Yes, sir.

What does that mean?

Unlimited funds, sir.

Both men’s eyes widened at the mention of the words. During their rise to the top of the investigation services they met and worked for some of the wealthiest families and corporations in the world and while many bragged they had infinite funds upon further review, there was always a limit.

Did you verify their claim? Craft asked.

Yes, sir Smith replied.

How?

Miss LeTorque, the one who hired us told her butler, a gentleman by the name of Nat, to go with us down to the Federal Reserve in Dallas and open a line of credit with the full backing of the United States of America.

What? Sons asked in stunned disbelief.

I know this hard to get your head around, sir, but it’s exactly as Smith said. We went down with Nat, entered the Reserve, and left with a check Wesson said.

A check?

Yes, sir.

What check?

This check Smith replied holding a four by nine inch piece of paper in his hands.

Let me see that Craft said and Smith gave it over.

What Craft saw was an illusion, it had to be, for what it showed was a check made out to Craft and Sons signed by the man himself, the head of the Federal Reserve of Dallas, a Reserve which controlled the banks in the southern half of the United States, a country with an unlimited credit-line and the ability to print money from thin air, and in the line where a monetary figure was to be placed there was nothing, only a blank space. It was, in effect, an IOU from the most prosperous nation on Earth, an IOU with a sum to be determined later, an IOU of infinity.

Holy…!

Yes, sir, that’s what we thought also.

Craft handed the check to Sons and sat in silence. He knew he should say something but was speechless for one of the few times in his life. He couldn’t grasp the enormity of the situation because it exceeded his reach. ‘Unlimited’ kept running through his mind along with yachts and golfing. He loved both and could now go about doing them for the rest of his life, assuming they could find their man.

Wow! was Sons’ input.

Yes, sir, once again that’s exactly what me and Smith said replied Wesson.

The silence in the room lasted for minutes until it was finally broken by Smith.

I’m assuming we’re taking the case?

Heck, yeah! both Craft and Sons exclaimed.

Then I guess we’ll get started. Oh, and sirs?

Yes they responded together, eying the paper of imaginary greed.

We’ll probably want a raise when this is over.

Smith didn’t get an oral commitment, only tacit nods of approval from the men who could not take their focus away from nirvana on processed tree pulp.

Smith and Wesson went down the hallway to their office. Inside they found their young protégé, a college senior preparing to enter the workforce who was interning as a paralegal for the agency. His name was Joshua Stevens. He was smart, dedicated, and desperate which made him the ultimate assistant.