“But Mama, look at their clothes! Look at my clothes! I won’t fit in here! I fitted in, in my old school in Nara!”

(Excerpt Alma Chapter 1)

 

            We sat in our vehicle and looked at the kids who appeared to be my age or older, all stream through the front doors of the large school building.

            The students were a mix of Caucasians, Asian-descent or Native Alaskans. I spotted a couple of African-American kids, but their hair was treated so it looked smooth and straight, not like my frizzy hair.  All of their clothes looked like the latest fashion and they all carried the latest models of laptops or tablets or mobile phones.  I saw how they pretended to look busy by messaging each other using their technology, as they checked their class schedules on their tablets. Some of them even wore large earphones to listen to loud music and block the world out.

            I knew I was going to stick out with my old clothes. My laptop was second-hand and used to be Mama’s and my mobile phone was old so it didn’t have all of the extra features of the newer models.  In Nara none of this mattered, but here I was worried that I wouldn’t be accepted because of it.

            “Can I move back to Mali and live with Uncle Bouren and Aunt Menaka?”  I passed her a pleading look.

            “No," she was quick to glare. “Your father left me for another woman and now you want to leave me too?”

            “But Mama, look at their clothes! Look at my clothes! I won’t fit in here! I fitted in, in my old school in Nara!”

            “Then make them fit in with YOU!” she flared and next, she hit the control for my door to make it open. “Now go to school!”

            With a huff to show my unhappiness, I climbed out of the vehicle.  Then as I slowly walked up the concrete path towards the large building, I looked back.  Mama powered up the hover-car and I watched the vehicle rise into the air.  Lastly, she threw me a wave before she flew off down the road.

            Merde! I’m all alone and I’m going to have to ask one of these fashionable kids where the school office is to pick up my class timetable.  I walked through the doors to find a crowded school corridor with lockers lining the walls.  The students stood with their friends in front of them, either putting things in or taking them out, as they all talked loudly.

            There weren’t any signs that I could see for the school's office, so I was going to have to ask for directions.  I started to walk over to two girls who appeared to be my age, who were touching up their made-up faces using small mirrors.   Mama would never let me wear make-up to school.  Now there’s another reason why I’ll stick out like an elephant next to a giraffe.

            “Pardon," I smiled as warmly as I could. “Could you please tell me where the school office is?”

            “Down the corridor and turn left," one of the girls answered without looking away from her mirror.

            “Merci - er - I mean thank you," I replied awkwardly.

            Merde!  They were like the neighbour Mama and I encountered.  Only worse, the teenagers here won't even look at you.

            I walked down the corridor and I turned left just as the girl directed only to find another long corridor.  Mon Dieu, please don’t make me have to ask for directions again!  Feeling lost, I started to walk down this hallway past more lockers and kids chattering loudly.  I still couldn’t see any signs of any school offices so I stopped and looked about, confused.

            Just then a pretty girl with long black hair and dark brown eyes noticed me standing in the middle of the corridor.  She was standing with a similarly looking friend and I think they were Native Alaskan. The first girl walked up and smiled which immediately made me like her.

            “Hi, you look lost," she laughed, but not meanly.

            “I’m trying to find the school office.” I told her.

            “It’s just down the end of this corridor," she pointed.  "The door is hidden, so I’ll show you.”

            “Thank you!” I gushed in relief.

            Next, both girls walked me down the corridor and as they did, they openly examined my appearance.

            “Where’s your accent from?” the second girl asked out of interest.

            “I just moved here from Mali.”  I answered.

            “Mali?” the second girl echoed in surprise. “That’s a big change coming to Alaska.”

            “Where’s Mali?” the first girl enquired.

            “In Africa," the second girl answered for me.

            “Wow," the first girl sounded impressed before she stopped and pointed out a door.  “There it is.”

            “Thank you very much,” I said gratefully to the two.

            “Good luck on your first day," the first girl smiled then she and her friend walked on.

            I gave them a wave as they departed and I wished I could be in their classes but unfortunately they were younger than me. 

 

*****

I came from a climate where a ‘hot day’ could reach forty-five degrees Celsius; to a climate which could drop to minus forty-five degrees Celsius.

 

(Excerpt Alma Chapter 1)

 

9th September 2380 – Nine Months Previously

 

            The hover-car landed with a gentle thud on the side of the road out the front of Alma High School and powered down. 

            Our second-hand hover-car wasn’t as shiny and new as the other models that we passed on the streets, or even those that were parked in the student car park.  Our vehicle also made a loud humming noise coupled with a slight rattle when we were zipping from A to B whereas the newer models moved almost soundlessly.  These differences only aided my self-conscious tendencies which were nerve-wracking when starting at a new school.  

            Mama turned off the ignition and turned to give me a brave smile. 

            She ordered, “Don’t be scared.”

            “I’m not,” I lied.

            “Today is my first day at my new job.” Mama continued. “I’m not scared, I’m excited.”

            “Mama, I’m not scared.” I repeated.

            She wasn't convinced though as she examined my face which looked very similar to hers in features, but our colouring was different.

            Mama was full-blooded Mali with the typical smooth, dark brown skin, big brown eyes and short afro hair. Her eyes were her best feature as they were large and yet pointed in the corners which gave her a feline-like quality. Mama was 170 cm’s tall and skinny.

            I wasn’t as tall as Mama, I was at least ten centimetres shorter. I was 16 years old so I still had a couple of years left where I might reach her height. My hair was long and frizzy and my skin was a light brown colour. My paler skin came from my father since he was Caucasian French.

            My parents divorce had just been finalized.  Papa had moved back to France at the start of their separation and with its completion, Mama and I moved to Alaska.  It was thanks to her getting a job at the new hydro power plant which operated just outside of Alma.

            It was ‘fall’ as they called autumn here.  Mama and I were already wearing coats as we had to adjust to the colder climate. I had moved from arid conditions to almost arctic.

            I came from a climate where a ‘hot day’ could reach forty-five degrees Celsius; to a climate which could drop to minus forty-five degrees Celsius.  Alma had odd daylight hours being so close to the Arctic Circle.  In summer, I've heard that there are days where the sun doesn’t set until 11 PM and in the middle of winter, there are days when it doesn't rise until 11 AM.

            I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to leave Mali. I miss my Aunts and Uncles and I miss playing soccer with my cousins. I miss the warm weather and the warmth of my family.

            Alma has a population of around 7,500 and people here aren’t as friendly.  When Mama and I first moved into our small, two bedroom townhouse which was in a complex, we asked a neighbour for directions to the supermarket. The lady was snobby and only gave a short answer which wasn't helpful.  Now I'd be going to school with people like this and I've been dreading my first day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What's certain is the OO Negative species require fresh blood to replenish their necrotized bodies.”

 

(Excerpt Alma Introduction)

 

The pair worked solidly away in a comfortable silence over the next several hours. As Grigorri searched the InterPol database for 'wild animal attacks' or sword-related deaths, Julia combed the Forensics reports for anymore OO Positive and OO Negative blood samples taken from crime scenes.  They each worked at separate computers with cartons of half-eaten Chinese food and half-drunk caffeinated sodas around their work areas.  Yet, they worked in unison with a common goal in mind.

            At 10.59 PM she rubbed her stinging eyes before yawning loudly.  He could relate, the glare off the touch-screen computers was hurting his eyes too.  He sat back on his stool and did a big stretch when he saw what she was doing.  She'd picked up her chopsticks to finish off her cold leftovers.

            “Griggori," she began, in between mouthfuls.

            “Da, Babushka?”

            “Don’t call me that, not at work," she flashed him a warning look which was negated by the smirk after it.

            Griggori looked around the empty room before returning her smile with a goofy grin.

            "Look around Babushka, we're the only ones in the lab," he pointed out.  "No-one is here to hear your nickname."

            “Griggori," she returned to her original train of thought.

            “Da?”

            “I've noticed something about the DNA samples of the OO Positive and OO Negative subjects from the different crime scenes you found in the InterPol database.”

            “Da?”

            “The samples, they differ slightly.”

            “Do you mean they're by several different perpetrators instead of the one?”

            “Da and Nyet," she sighed tiredly.  “Mostly, it’s by the same perpetrator but I have found differences as well as similarities.”

            “Tell me, Babushka," he said affectionately.

            He pulled her seat closer so she could sit down beside him which she did.

            “I believe there are several different species of OO Negative and OO Positive that we're dealing with.  The various species appear to have different physical characteristics, by the different bite marks, clawing and the saliva taken.  For example, some of the OO Negative saliva samples contained an unusual, poisonous compound, like venom.  The saliva can either kill a human or incapacitate them."

            This made him sit up straighter as if she'd just thrown cold water over him.

            She continued as she ate, “What's certain is the OO Negative species require fresh blood to replenish their necrotized bodies.  This theory can be supported by the differing puncture wounds primarily on a human victim’s major arteries, such as the jugular.  The OO Negative species appear to paralyze or incapacitate their victims, to drink from them.”

            "Then after they've drained the body by feeding off them, they use laser rifles to burn the evidence."  He concluded.  "Julia, forgetting about our OO Negative victims for a moment, what if the rise in charred bodies found throughout Europe and the UK are human victims, who were prey for the OO Negatives?"

            "It would make sense, to burn the body and remove any evidence of teeth marks or traces of the perpetrator's DNA including saliva," she nodded along.

            "Is there any evidence that the OO Positives are killing humans?" he asked. "Maybe the OO Positives are helping humans by killing the OO Negatives."

            "But you're forgetting the OO Positive Jane Doe and John Doe whose necks were ravaged by another OO Positive; the OO Positive who's also the culprit of our latest OO Negative murders."

            "So he killed his own kind, then?"

            "Da," she verified.  "And it had help, by the swordsman or woman, who killed the older OO Positive male."

            "Do you think that perhaps our OO Positive attacker who's murdering our latest OO Negative victims, is fighting back in self-defence?"  He postured.  "Do you think there could be a war on between the two species?"

            "Good question," she thought aloud.  "If I were a OO Negative who was missing red and white blood cells, proteins, antibodies and blood sugars, I'd target a species that has an abundance of them, like our OO Positives."

            "Now tell me why you think there are several different species of OO Positives and OO Negatives," he requested.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alma

 

By K.R. Smith

Cover Graphics by Isabel de Sequera

Cover Photo by Nina Ackerman

 

Mali Roanne is a shy 16 year old girl who has just moved from Africa to an Alaskan town called Alma.  As Mali tentatively begins a romantic relationship with Kevin Wisetail, she wonders why he, Lucia Sabre and Xenthe Creillaic, don’t come to school when it’s a full moon?  Although her Lokoti friends welcome Mali and her mother into their lives, she suspects they’re hiding a secret.  It is after an attack made by a coven of North American Vampires; that Mali discovers the truth about her new boyfriend and friends.

 

With her Extrasensory Perception, Mali is able to fit into her friends’ world of different breeds of Werewolves, separate species of Vampires and Circulators. Although the planet has entered the ‘Second Renaissance’ with advances in technology; Mali finds there still are man-eaters lurking in the dark corners. 

 

Available December 2022 at

Amazon, Barnes&Noble, Apple iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords

“A baby Werewolf will probably move around a lot more than a human baby.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 2)

My mate looked on unimpressed, “Mr. Baker?”

“It’s my latest name in the academic circuit.”  I shrugged it off.

He asked grumpily, “And how old are you for this latest trip around fantasyland?”

“In my early forties.” I answered.  “So getting 'knocked up' won’t look too unusual.”

He reopened my laptop to look on my schedule again, when I snapped it shut once more.

“Quit it!”  He said in annoyance.  “I need to see how busy you’re gonna be in the next couple of months.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t a normal pregnancy B, this baby is going to drain you!  Can you imagine what it's going to be like when you venture off tribal lands?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” I fired up.

“A baby Werewolf will probably move around a lot more than a human baby.  You could be standing there on a podium, doing one of your lectures when all of a sudden your stomach goes all wibbly-wobbly.  Your audience is gonna think you’re giving birth to an alien!”

I growled in frustration at his continued negativity, before I rolled onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. 

Declan continued studying my schedule, as if he were making mental notes.  His newly youthful face was a mask of consternation, as his bright blue eyes were wide.  I could almost see the cogs turning in his brain, as he was planning for the future.

“I don’t think you should speak at the University in Cairo.”  He spoke again.

“Oh yeah and why is that?”

“Because it’s in January and it’s gonna be 40°C in Egypt that time of year.  I’m a European Werewolf, which means I’m hot blooded and you've seen how excessive heat makes me go nuts.  With the half breed inside you, it’s gonna create problems.”

“Ever heard of air conditioning, Declan?  They’ve had this nifty invention since the 20^th Century.”  I said sarcastically.  “Besides, I’ve never had problems with heat and I doubt I’m gonna start now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A human doctor isn’t going to know jack about how Werewolves do blood transfusions,”

  (Small Fry Chapter 2)

Declan continued, “From January onwards, I don’t want her doing more than one lecture a month.  Then from June, she’s not going to do any for at least six months.”

“Excuse me?!”  I exhorted in surprise. 

“Maternity leave, B.”  He glared my way.

Oh, maternity leave…now why didn’t I think of that?  I had just been planning my schedule for months in advance and it had never crossed my mind!  It made it worse when Declan was the one who was anti-pregnancy.

“Yeah, you’d better take note of that, Aneet.”  I glared back.

“Would you like me to book you into seeing an obstetrician at the Hodge Endeavor Hospital in Anchorage?” She offered.

Aneet didn't know I was a Circulator or what that meant.  However from her confidentiality training, she knew that her boss was 'different' and my medical requirements had to be kept from the public eye.  But since I was also a Werewolf, I was hardly ever ill and if I were injured; the blood of my Werewolf kin could revive me.  I also had the tribe's Medicine Man whom was another Werewolf to treat me, or even the Medical Lab at Circulate HQ, which was run by the Circulate Mainframe.  The computer also oversaw Hodge Endeavor's Hospitals and the Legal Department, providing my mate and I with falsified birth or death certificates, to hide our real ages.

Abruptly, Declan darted forwards to cover the speaker with his hand, so she couldn’t hear.

“No, we do this with Ki.”  He frowned.   “A human doctor isn’t going to know jack about how Werewolves do blood transfusions, which is going to be a guarantee when you have this.”

I snatched my phone out from underneath his hand to say, “Thanks Aneet, but it won’t be necessary.  We have our own medical staff.”

Declan wasn't put off by my rudeness or glares.  Instead, he sat on the side of the bed to look on my schedule.  To stop him, I slammed shut my laptop.

“However, I will notify the Board of this news.”  She organized.  “Would you like me to contact your English relatives, the Worthall’s?”

“Um,” I thought on this, “I don’t think it’s necessary.  When Jarrod Worthall - the Engineer in ISF I told you about - calls next, I’ll let him know myself.”

“Very well.”  She acquiesced.  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Dr. Baker?”

“No thanks Aneet, I think that’s it.”  I signed off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My face flushed when two of my past identities were read out.

  (Small Fry Chapter 2)

“You’ve been invited to a lunch at Cambridge University on 1st February next year."  Aneet continued.  "In attendance, will be several speakers on Ancient History in the Mediterranean.” 

“Ancient History in the Mediterranean?” I echoed.  “I don’t teach that topic.”

“It’s not a topic, it’s a field."  She said.  "With all your papers on Rome, Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia and Babylon, you do fall into that category.”

“Oh, I see your point.”  I conceded.  “But who else is going to be at this shindig?”

“Dr. Fielding, Dr. Golding, Dr. Jordan, Dr. Thewak and Dr. Humphries are just some of the many…” she prattled off, “…I think this is going to be some kind of symposium to honour past historians.”

This made me pause, "Which past historians?”

“I think they’re going to be honouring archaeologists and professors such as Dr. Jasmine Aviv, Dr. Jason Garret, Dr. Bianca Sabre, Dr. Bianca Wisetail and Dr. Ash Marzuq.”  She read out.  “That’s what it says on the invitation, anyways.”

My face flushed when two of my past identities were read out.

“Um, can we please put the 1^st February on the back burner?”

“Instead of clicking ‘accept’ or ‘decline’, would you like me to hit ‘tentative’?” She asked.

“Yep.” I agreed.  “Now, what’s next?”

“Aside from your papers, there’s not much else.  It's quite a few lunches in the next six months, but not many symposiums.”  She speculated.

“I’m not really interested in lunches.” I sighed reluctantly.  “All it is, is a bunch of academics who are normally bitchy to each other; hide their knives to stab you in the back with, to be friendly face to face.”

“Would you like to decline the academic lunches and charity dinners and just stick to the lectures, Dr. Baker?”  She offered, using my latest pseudonym.

“Yeah that'd be a good idea, Aneet.”  I decided.  “So how are we looking so far, one lecture per month?”

“Yes except for March, when you have two lectures."  She reported.  "You have the one at the University of Technology Sydney and the other at Columbia.” 

Suddenly Declan’s voice interrupted, which gave me a fright.

“March?”

My head turned sharply, to find my husband standing in the doorway, listening in.  Then he came into the room to talk directly to my mobile phone. 

“Sorry Aneet, in March Dr. Baker will be five months pregnant, which means she’ll tire easily.  I don’t want her travelling around to do two lectures a month.”  He ordered.

She sounded surprised to hear his voice. “Oh er, Mr. Baker?” 

“No, it’s Mr. Sabre.”  He corrected sharply.

“Yes Mr. Sabre.”  She fumbled out.  But he made her so nervous, she mispronounced his surname.  Instead of saying Sar-bra it sounded like she said, Say-ber.  “Er, did you just say that Dr. Baker would be pregnant? I mean um, is pregnant?”

I could hear the shock in my secretary’s voice, as clear as a bell.  She had been my Personal Assistant for the past thirty years, and through two pseudonyms.  Although Aneet worked for me, she would also act as my liaison with the multinational company Hodge Endeavor, which was under Circulate control.  This meant they would also hear of this.  On my first day of being pregnant, the news of my 'happy condition' was being broadcasted.

The Circulate Mainframe, all the way at Circulate Headquarters on Taurus Six, monitored mine and humanities' timeline.  It sent instructions via email and text messages, to myself or the Board of Hodge Endeavour.  All I had to do, was turn up at the odd Board Meeting when an important decision was required. It ensured the company invested wisely and that I retained control for financial security.  The powerful company's political connections, were also ideal in protecting the Circulate's and the Lokoti's anonymity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father never trusted me with you.

  (Small Fry Ch 1)

            Declan cracked several eggs in a glass bowl and proceeded to beat them so hard, the whisk made a squealing sound against the sides.  I watched him add the other ingredients for pancakes, as he prepared them by memory.  He was such an old hand at this, he continued to cook as he talked.

            “When it was just me and Finn working at the Garage; we would be leaning over a vehicle and he'd say as casual as can be, ‘So Declan, do you like soccer?’ I wouldn’t look up as I'd be in the middle of something and I'd reply, ‘Yeah I like it fine.’  Then Finn would say, ‘I was wondering why you kept watching the other kids play.  Here I was thinking it could be over a girl instead, who just happened to be running around the field with your little brother.’  In surprise, I dropped the wrench into the motor and hit my head on the hood!”

            I cracked up laughing, as I could very well imagine the late Finn with his cheeky sense of humor, bringing it up like that.

            My husband chuckled, “He'd only talk about it when we were alone.  Sometimes in summer, during the long daylight hours when the bloodlust was making me restless, we would stay up until midnight repairing engines.  It was when we talked the most.  He'd sneakily bring you up by suddenly asking, ‘So how’s your spectator sport going?’ We'd talk about you in the third person without actually saying your name.  We always referred to you as ‘that girl who liked playing soccer’.”

            I felt myself blush, as I hopped back up onto the bench to sit and listen.  He finished off the pancake mix and left it on the bench.  Then I watched him pull out another frying pan from one of the cupboards, to cook it in.

            He went on, “When the truth came out about us and we first moved in together?  Finn gave me an early mark every day for two months, so I could come home to you sooner.  When I felt embarrassed at the favouritism he was showing, he said in front of the whole crew, ‘You’ve done the hard work, Declan.  Now it’s time to enjoy the fruits of your labours’.”

            “Finn said that?”  I asked, touched.

            “Finn, my Mom and your Mom then your grandparents, seemed like the only people who didn’t have a problem with our coupling.” He said in irritation.  “I felt your Dad and Ian’s uneasiness for years.  Your father never trusted me with you.  If you had become pregnant by me at that time, your father would have had the same reservations that I spoke of; what carrying a European Werewolf could do to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They met to talk about the tribe’s first female Lokoti Werewolf, who was also a Circulator.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 1)

            “Man, I feel like an idiot.”  He shook his head at himself.

            “Why?” I looked on closely.

            “We could have done this ages ago!”  He sounded annoyed with himself.  “Just imagine what it could have been like, if this happened 273 years before.  We could have started a family then, if I let you turn me into a Circulator sooner.  My Mom would have been thrilled for us, if she were here.  I wish I could have seen my human mother hold my daughter, before she died of old age.”

            I felt a strong sense of longing inside of him as he pictured this.  Then he let go of his wife to continue with cooking.  I leaned against the kitchen bench as I watched and listened.

            “Derik got to have the happy family life, with the wife and kids.  He gave my Mom two grandchildren, whom she loved to death.  I just wish that I could have done the same.  I wish that the pack hadn’t feared the idea of me creating more European Werewolves, in the forms of children.  I wish that your father trusted me enough to take care of you.”

            This made my chest ache as I felt these old wounds of his, never healed.  His expression was more than wistful, it was a mask of pain.  He momentarily looked away from the food to meet my waiting gaze.

            He recanted bitterly, “I remember the meeting the pack had with the Council of Tribal Elders, like it was only yesterday.  They met to talk about the tribe’s first female Lokoti Werewolf, who was also a Circulator.  Your Dad was beside himself with worry, he was scared that you might escape with your greater speed and kill a human.  Then it was a Tribal Elder that came up with the idea of mating you to another Werewolf, who could stop you from craving human as well as help your training.  Then everyone immediately looked at Grant, like I was invisible or something.  Nobody glanced my way, much less thought of me as a possible suitor.  When I spoke up by reminding everyone that it had been me who had stopped you from crossing the border of Lokoti land?  Your Dad put a stop to it immediately.  Hunter Wisetail walked over to stand beside his best friend Ian Elm and his brother Grant, and said that a female Lokoti Werewolf should be mated to a male Lokoti Werewolf.  Of course the Tribal Elders all liked the sound of that.” 

            I heard the jealousy in Declan’s voice which never faded, even after 279 years.

            “You mean Grant wasn’t asked?” I frowned.  “When I first found out about the arranged marriage, he told me he had been asked.”

            “Yeah he was formally asked at the meeting, by the Tribal Elders.  But with your aura and your pheromones, they may as well as have announced that he'd won the lottery!”  He snorted.  “I’m sure my feelings for you were suspected, even if they weren’t spoken of.  Finn and your Grandfather made mention of them, just a couple of times.  But they both knew I had to keep my distance before your change.”

            I watched him slap the bacon bad-temperedly into the frying pan which instantly began to sizzle, before he threw in a couple of hashbrowns too.

            “Finn and Grandfather knew?” I echoed in surprise.

            Back then I thought our forbidden love had been a secret?

            “At dinner at your grandparents house one night, when I was eighteen and you would have been fifteen years old; you walked off angry after one of our fights.  Your Grandfather caught the expression on my face and gave me a close look.  He asked, 'enjoying those sparks, Declan?'  That was the only thing he ever said about it, as he probably thought I was just attracted to your aura.”  He explained.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Our baby will be the world’s first half Lokoti and half European Werewolf.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 1)

           

            We exchanged surprised glances before we departed the room to find our medical practitioner, his scanner and his ‘medicine bundle,’ were gone.

            “Oh.” I said taken aback. “I guess he thought the emergency was over.”

            “That and I think he’s gone to Caesar to have a talk about us.”  He frowned.

            “Why?” I asked in alarm.  “You did let go, eventually.”

            “Well B, let me put it this way," he casually leaned against the wall. "The tribe’s first female Lokoti Werewolf turns the last European Werewolf who is her mate, into another Circulator.  For over 250 years, everyone thinks she’s barren and then bingo!  Her handsome husband does the 'manly thing' by knocking her up.  Our baby will be the world’s first half Lokoti and half European Werewolf.”

            I smiled on his dry sense of humor, “I like your little explanations, they’re like little stories in themselves.”

            “Thanks.”  He chuckled back. “So, what does the pregnant woman crave; bacon and eggs, or sausages and eggs, or even pancakes?”

            “Um, how about all of the above?” I shrugged.

            “I love my wife!”  He guffawed. “Man, are we going to have fun over the next nine months.”

            “Man, are we going to have an interesting next ninety years.” I corrected.

            Declan pulled back to give an incredulous look, “Ninety years?!”

            “There’s kids and then there’s grandkids.” I reminded.

            “Oh yeah.” He frowned as he returned to the kitchen to cook.  “By the time we make it to the space time continuum; we really will be like a pair of 70 year old humans, moving to Florida to retire.”

            “Yup.”  I moved to sit up on the bench to talk, while he made breakfast.  “In a couple of years, you could have a daughter sitting here instead of me.”

            He passed a funny look as he passed me the ingredients from the fridge.  “Why? Where will you be?”

            “I don’t know, away lecturing or writing my papers?” I shrugged again.

            “So because I’m the cook, I’m gonna turn into the 'house husband'?”  He raised his eyebrows unimpressed. 

            “Well, you are retired.” I reminded.

            “Hmm.”  He frowned as he paused in his food preparation.  “I guess you're right.  After working at the Garage for over 250 years, I’m in no hurry to return.  Our ‘rug rat’ is going to need money for food.”

            “The way you constantly shove food down my throat, I doubt our kid will ever go hungry."  I said dryly.  "It’s a good thing we’re having Werewolf young.  With their supernatural metabolism, we won’t have to worry about our child becoming obese.”

            Out of the blue, Declan picked me up off the bench and swung me around in his arms! 

            “Damn straight!”  He merrily laughed.  “I’m going to be a father!  Ladies and Gentlemen, I finally knocked up Bianca Sabre!  I knocked up the unknockable woman!  And she WANTS my child!”

            At first I squealed in fright then in laughter, "We’re going to have a baby!”

            “We’re going to have a baby!"  He chanted.  "We’re going to have a baby!”

            “Declan!” I cupped his face.  “Do you know how good it feels when I get to give the man I love, a child?”

            He gently returned me to my feet before leaning in closely. 

            “About as good as it does for me, to know that I’ve finally given you the one thing that you always wanted?”  He tenderly rubbed his nose against mine.

            “I've always wanted you and I have that.” I stroked his cheek.  “And now baby makes three!”

            “Baby makes three.” He hugged me tightly.  “My baby B and I are having a baby girl!”

            “A one-of-a-kind, just like her parents.”  I sighed happily.

            “A beautiful girl, just like her beautiful mother.”  He mumbled as his lips smothered mine.  

            I allowed this kiss although a part of me was still on guard.  There was a tiny part of my brain that was murmuring, ‘careful’.  My instincts didn’t entirely trust his turn around, all because his progeny would be female.

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“I've been trained not to think of myself as a father.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 1)

            Declan grinned like an idiot – a tearful idiot – but an idiot nonetheless.

            “Since you said ‘daughters’ and not ‘daughter’, it means I’m let out of the doghouse sometime.” He tried to joke.

            “Lucky me.”  I said flatly, as I turned back towards the window.

            Just then he laughed loudly as he leant on the kitchen sink.  He seemed to be laughing in pure relief!  He was guffawing like a man who had just been granted parole, in the face of a death sentence.

            He wiped his eyes on the back of his hands, “I can almost picture her now.  She’s going to be tall and she’s going to make all of the boys work hard, by beating them in school and in sport.”

            "Why do you say that?"

            Declan continued, “She’s going to be half of you and half of me.  I’m gonna teach her how to repair her hover-car if it breaks down.  You’re gonna teach her soccer and help her with her homework.  When she's not studying with you, she’ll be in the kitchen helping me cook.”

            “Maybe we shouldn’t be placing all these expectations on her yet.” I said warily.  “I mean, your last expectation was that she was going to kill her mother!”

            I thought these words would have wounded him, but they did the exact opposite.  Instead, Declan stood closely to smile down as his large hands moved to sit on my hips.  His bright blue eyes fixated on my dark blue ones, before he lowered his face to gently bump foreheads.  His spiky, dark blonde hair mixed in with my long, black layers.

            “B, ever since I was 14 years old, I've been trained not to think of myself as a father.”  He confessed with his eyes closed.  “It was the age when the Lokoti Werewolves told me that I could never take a human woman for a mate, for risk of harming her or turning her.  I thought if they’re scared of me changing her, then they probably wouldn’t want me to have kids that were like me, either."  

            That gave me pause, as his words and the emotion behind them hurt my heart.  I watched him speak with his eyes closed as I felt his hot breath on my face.  Although I was still furious with him, I didn't pull out of our embrace.

            He continued, "I fell in love with you when I was 17 years old but remember, I had to wait until I was nearly 21 until I could have you, when you changed at the age of 18.  Then you were married off to Grant and I had to wait five years before we were reunited.  This only compounded the idea that the pack thought the risk of me breeding with you was far too great.  Then it came out you were so-called barren and you couldn’t give Grant kids?  I thought, 'she was meant to be mine all along!'  Then for 273 years, I got to enjoy the marriage bed, without worrying the world about what the marriage could produce.  Now a baby makes three?  I’m sorry I didn’t run out and buy a bottle of champagne and a cigar.  For nearly 300 years I was taught and self-taught that I wasn’t father material, because I could plant rotten seed.”

            My eyes widened in further alarm, as I never knew his self-hatred was buried so deep, it was thoroughly rooted in his psyche.

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“This child will be part Lokoti Werewolf too."

“This child will be part Lokoti Werewolf too.” 

(Small Fry Chapter 1)

            “Tell me again you don’t have a bad feeling about this?” He rasped out, as if he were having difficulty breathing.  “Tell me how you’re gonna live through this?”

            “As Aunt B said, this child will be part Lokoti Werewolf too.”  Ki reminded.  “Maybe this baby will be exactly half and half?  I’ll keep a close eye on Aunt B, I promise.  You two won’t be alone, no Lokoti Werewolf ever stands alone.  You know this yourself, Uncle.”

            But Declan didn’t seem to hear, he was too busy staring at his mate. 

            “Tell me B, what can you 'see'?  Tell me what you ‘see’ in ours and the baby's future.”  He pleaded. 

            Next, he watched me turn to walk into the shadowy kitchen.  The whole house darkened in fact, as the sun was taken away from the grey clouds which were heavy with snow.  As if I were in a trance, I wandered over to the kitchen sink to stare out the window at my garden. 

            The grass was still short as the cold weather stagnated its growth.  I saw the bare branches of our Jacaranda Tree bend in the strong wind.  Then I stared at my withered garden plots, which were waiting to be buried under the thick snow of a long winter.

            Our small, two bedroom, two story, brown wooden cottage with its stone chimney; sat on top of a hill in the community centre inside the vast Lokoti National Park, in the Alaska Range.  Our home was normally cosy with life, love, cooking and company.  We had family, tribe and pack whom we intermingled or hunted with.  Our life could be called 'quiet' by some, but when you had to hide your supernatural state, where and how we lived was ideal.

            The signs of winter coming, also represented signs of something else to come.  Our home would be changed forever, as would be the people inside it.  As if to confirm this, I saw a snowflake fly past on the icy wind.

            I wasn't experiencing any visions, whilst I stared hypnotically at life outside.  Just as I could have bad feelings which warn of danger, I felt several new sensations.  They didn’t fill me with a sense of dread, instead they filled me with a sense of purpose.

            “Our daughter isn’t going to be a Circulator.” I spoke quietly, almost unsure of my own words.  “She’s going to be the eldest of three sisters and none of them will be 'Light People'.  I am the last Circulator to be born.”

            Suddenly, the window rattled loudly from a gust of wind, as my Jacaranda Tree bent back and forth.  I watched the snowflakes begin to fall thick and fast, but from the gale they fell in a sloping pattern.  I watched the many white dots cover the grass. 

            “The timeline has to make adjustments to Declan’s altered state of being.”  I said softly.  “Because their mother changed their father, our daughters will be born, but not as Circulators.”

            Then I felt my mate come to stand beside at the sink, as his greater body-heat radiated outwards.

            “Daughters?”  He asked hopeful.  “No boys?”

            A tear slipped down my cheek, as his relief didn’t bring me happiness, but disappointment.

            “And what would you have done if it was a son?”  I challenged.

            “If we had a son who was half Lokoti Werewolf but wasn’t a Circulator?  I would do exactly what I’m going to do now.”  He said firmly.

            “And what’s that?”

            “Give his mother a kiss and a cuddle and help her raise the little troublemaker.” He emitted a small smile.

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