“You won’t be able to trade in dead moose or caribou to pay your way through.”

  (‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 2)

Suddenly there was a loud knock and Declan’s voice suddenly boomed out, “hey, pipsqueaks!”  He had knocked once and then walked into the bedroom.

“DECLAN!”  My best friend yelled as he quickly released my waist.

I jumped up from the bed embarrassed!  It was almost in light speed, I leapt to my feet with my face burning bright red.

“Dinner’s ready.” Declan gave a steely-glare, before he turned around and walked out again.

Has it been half an hour already?  I had lost my appetite, but I was the first to walk out of the bedroom as I went straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind.  I used their sink to wash my hands as I suddenly felt really unhygienic.  I even washed my face and neck where Derik’s mouth had been.  Then I dried off using the hand towel before I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door again.

Frickin’ hell, I wish Declan hadn’t sprung us… the worst person in the world who could have seen that, would be him.

When I walked out to the dining table, I saw he was sitting on one side of the table glaring at Derik who was sitting on the other, glaring back.  Aunt Susan sat at the head of the table as the matriarch of the family.  I sat at the place setting beside my best friend where my plate of spaghetti bolognaise was waiting.

Derik and Aunt Susan hadn’t started eating yet, as they were waiting for me to sit down but my enemy was already shoveling food into his mouth.

“Declan.” She glared at her eldest. “It’s polite to wait until everybody is seated before we begin our meals.”

He threw his mother a tired look, but he dropped his fork and sat back into his seat as he chewed on his mouthful.  Er, I was sitting down now so can’t he eat?  Aunt Susan smiled at Derik and I and then she picked up her cutlery which prompted us to follow suit.  Declan glared my way next, as he picked up his fork and continued on feeding his face, not even stopping for air! 

Whereas the humans politely cut up the spaghetti, the European Werewolf was merely swiveling his fork through it, picking up a huge amount and shoveling it into his oversized mouth.  I looked on in disgust… and Mandy finds THAT attractive?  He noticed my unimpressed look as he raised his eyebrows.  I shook my head as I looked down at my plate.

“B’s got a point, Declan.”  His mother commented.

“Oh yeah, like B’s the picture of politeness and morality in this tribe.” He sneered.

Derik dropped his cutlery loudly onto his plate as his objection whilst he sent his older brother the look of death.

I quickly changed the subject.  “Aunt Susan, do you still make your own pasta? I noticed that the Store never has any.”

“Ah yes I do B.” She answered. “Speaking of which, I’ve got some extra lasagna sheets you can take home to your mother. She told me that she wanted to try making lasagna soon.”

“Cool.” I gave a nod.

“Your Mom said your Gran has an old family recipe of lasagna.  But when she was telling me about the method, I didn’t think there was enough cheese in it.  Now, I know we can’t get any parmesan cheese around here, as the only cheese that this tribe makes is tasty.  However I recommend that you put extra cheese into the béchamel sauce as well as on the top of the dish.” Aunt Susan instructed.

“OK.” I nodded, before I turned quiet for a minute or two as I thought on how Aunt Susan and Great Grandma were alike.  “You know, you and Great Grandma are the only two women I know who has a list of old family recipes.  I mean, Gran has the recipe for lasagna and toss salad dressing from her Australian family, but that’s it.  I don’t think the Worthall’s passed down any recipes to Gran, as before the War the family had Housekeepers or Cooks and chose from different menus.”

“Cooking is an important tradition in many Italian families.” Aunt Susan pronounced. “When my family as well as Anthony’s left Italy after World War Two, they brought the recipes with them.  In the old culture, cooking was a family activity as well as social ritual.”

“Mom told me that in the old days, they would let the bolognaise sauce stew all day, whilst they made the pasta by hand.” Derik turned my way.

“Really?” I looked on in surprise.

“It’s true.” She verified then she smiled on her sons.  “Derik isn’t really interested in that part of his heritage, but Declan’s got a gift for it.  Declan and I can sit at this table for hours, making spaghetti, fettuccine, lasagna sheets or pasta spirals.”

“Declan?” I looked on the great oaf sitting across in further surprise.

“How do you like your pasta tonight, B?”  He returned smugly.  Then he shot off a look to his little brother.  “If Mom, heaven forbid, dropped dead tomorrow… Derik would be screwed.  He can barely boil an egg!”

“Yeah well Declan, there are more important things to life than just thinking with your stomach.” Derik said coldly.

“You and your books,” he sneered, “like THAT’S going to get you anywhere!”

“How about Cambridge?” Derik said smugly.

Declan paused in his eating to look on in surprise.  “Say what?”

“Derik?” Aunt Susan gave her youngest an inquiring look.

“Cambridge University is open again and B will be applying to study History there.”  He boasted, causing Declan to throw me a shocked look next.

“You’re leaving?”

Huh? Why is he taken aback by this? I was expecting a smartass retort like, ‘good riddance’ or something from him.

“B says I could go with her and do an Undergraduate’s course in Medicine.” Derik told his mother.  “I don’t need to do a Masters or a PhD because Grandpa Wisetail said he’ll take me on as an apprentice Medicine Man.”

“Say what?” Declan’s mouth fell open as he looked back at his little brother.

“Derik!”  My Aunt beamed proudly on her youngest son.

“Since the War, not many schools are open so kids like us, can complete their High School Certificates.  But we’re able to submit assignments with our application papers to be reviewed on a case by case basis.”  He went on.

“I’ll help you pick your best work to put together.” She quickly agreed. “Your biology essays were always the best in the tribe, especially your last on the immune system.  I don’t think we can submit them in your handwriting, but we could borrow Arabella’s laptop and portable printer and type them up -”

“Hang on hang on hang on!” Declan interrupted before he strangely laughed to himself, “Mom, I’m sorry to be the slap of reality here, but how exactly are we going to pay for all of this?”

She looked on her eldest as if his words really were a slap and her face fell.

“No problem.” Derik said coolly.

“No problem?” He arched his eyebrows.  “I don’t think the University operates on a barter system like we have here in the tribe, Derik.  You won’t be able to trade in dead moose or caribou to pay your way through.”  He looked coldly my way before he looked back on his brother.  “B as I understand, has English relatives that live in a castle full of rich and expensive old things that can pay her way.  But what have you got, Derik? What has this family got which will pay for all of this?”

His little brother looked away to tell their mother, “B showed me this website for a company called Hodge Endeavor which will pay my way.”

“Hodge Endeavor?” Her eyes widened with recognition. “They will pay for your tuition, like a scholarship or some such?”

“We came to Alaska to live because a letter from our Great, Great Grand Uncle told us to.  He was a Circulator in the Circulate.  The Circulate run Hodge Endeavor.  Because of Mike Sabre, B was telling me that we have access to Hodge Endeavor money.  They’ll pay for Cambridge.” Derik explained.

“Who’s Hodge Endeavor?” Declan asked skeptically.

“They’re one of the few multinational companies which survived the War.” Aunt Susan said, before she looked my way in confusion.  “B, I understand that with you being a Circulator in the Circulate along with your Mom and your Gran that Hodge Endeavor will pay for you.  But why will they pay for Derik?”

“Because of who you are.” I told her. “Your late husband Anthony was Mike Sabre’s Great Grand Nephew.  Because you’re related, you have his access to Circulate funds through Hodge Endeavor.”

Declan dropped his fork loudly onto his plate and pushed it away, looking cranky for some reason.

“So, my brother is a millionaire because of a distant relation?” He asked in disbelief.  “Well, I don’t need my job at the Garage anymore!”

“You have access to that money too Declan, if you should ever need it or even if you had some kind of inkling towards bettering yourself!” I snapped.

He stood up in a rage so suddenly, his chair fell backwards onto the floor!  I blanched as his blue eyes flashed glowing green, with his circular pupils turning into narrow slits.  Then he growled under his breath before he turned around and stalked out of the room…

… BAM!  I think he slammed his bedroom door behind him so hard that the wood started to split!  I looked guiltily to Aunt Susan, who actually didn’t seem surprised by her eldest’s temper tantrum, but just a little sad instead.

“Sorry.” I said uneasily, then I looked to Derik. “I just thought he was wrong to put you and your dreams down like that.”

He smiled appreciatively as he put his hand over mine.

“No B, it’s alright.” She sighed. “I think Declan is jealous.  Not about Derik’s education, since  he’s never been one for school or homework.  But he can’t leave Lokoti tribal lands, like Derik is being offered the chance to.  Being a Werewolf, there aren’t many places he can go where he can change and hunt freely like he can here.”

Now I really felt bad.  I pulled my hand out of Derik’s grasp to stare down at my plate as I lost my appetite.

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

Four members of the Lokoti Werewolf pack, carried Uncle Jack’s body up to the pyre on a stretcher made from two branches with a large, leather pelt in the middle.

  (‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 2)

4^th September 2084

Uncle Jack’s funeral was held in the traditional period three days after a Lokoti’s death.   Dad drove Mum and I down to the Holy Grounds, by the river just off to the side of the community centre.  There, the rest of the tribe had convened where I saw the typical scene of a Lokoti funeral.  In the grassy glade before the three Sacred Totem Poles sat a large, rectangular, wooden funeral pyre. 

The council of nine Tribal Elders which included Grandpa, were dressed in the traditional way.  They were wearing old suede clothing with face paint, of the Lokoti Wolf claw mark going down the side of their faces.  Dressed as such, they led the funeral chant to a drum beat.

Uncle Jack’s family stood at the front of the crowd, as everyone stood in a semi-circle about the pyre.   Four members of the Lokoti Werewolf pack, carried Uncle Jack’s body up to the pyre on a stretcher made from two branches with a large, leather pelt in the middle.  We couldn’t see Uncle Jack’s body though, as it was wrapped in the woven, funeral shroud.

The funeral was held at sunset of the third day of death, because of spiritual reasons.  It had to be exactly in this period, to guide the deceased’s spirit into the next life.  The funeral ceremony could go for an hour, but the body would burn all night. Then in the morning, the deceased’s ashes were sprinkled into the river.  The river was very important to my people, as it was vast and interconnected to the other major rivers in Alaska.  Eventually, it made its way to the Bering Sea and then the Pacific Ocean.  But the river wasn’t just vital to geography, but it was seen to represent the ongoing nature of life, in relation to our beliefs.

The Circulate which was once made up of Circulators and Calculators, believed that the timeline is the surface of the space time continuum.  Those that have special gifts and have been trained like Circulators, Calculators or those with ESP, can ‘see’ what was ahead in the timeline.  Another belief the Circulate and the Lokoti had in common, was reincarnation.  By sprinkling the deceased’s ashes into the river, it was the metaphor of returning the person’s spirit into the timeline so that they can be reborn, further down stream in another era.

I watched the four carefully place the body on top of the pyre.  Then Grandpa lit the wood with a fiery torch that he was holding.  I looked away when the flames approached the body, before it was completely engulfed in heat.  As the body burned, the nine Tribal Elders stood in between the pyre and the three Sacred Totem Poles, continued to sing the Lokoti funeral chant to the beat of the drum.

I couldn’t watch the body catch on fire, I just couldn’t.  Even if it was wrapped in the woven funeral shroud, it seriously creeped me out!   As I looked away, my eyes fell upon the people standing up the front of the crowd, just across.  To be honest, I wasn’t really looking, but I was staring blankly ahead.  I could have been gazing upon Julius Caesar, without even noticing.

Just as my blurred vision started to come into focus, I realized that I was staring at Declan.  My worst enemy was staring right back, which gave me a jolt in surprise.  I was looking directly into his bright blue eyes which made me embarrassedly look away.

Frickin’ hell, if he wasn’t the worst person in the world I could have been staring at?  Attila the Hun would have come a close second.  But when I had to look away from the pyre again, I found myself gazing his way once more.

Declan was still staring in my direction, or was he glaring?  He was wearing his traditional scowl with his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, as he stood beside his mother and brother.  He didn’t look away either.  Declan didn’t seem to care if anybody noticed who he was looking at or scowling at, rather.

Isn’t this just great?  So far my only two options are to stare at a dead guy on fire, or the rudest boy in the tribe.  I gave up on looking at either, as I closed my eyes and turned to bury my face into my father’s arm.  I think Dad must have thought I was overwrought with grief, as he next kissed the top of my head and squeezed my hand tighter.

As the Tribal Elders sang, I used this opportunity of self-imposed privacy to think about Uncle Jack.   I remember him coming to my house a couple of times, to talk about pack business with my father.  The two would leave the house and go stand at the end of the driveway to talk privately.  Sometimes Uncle Ian as well as Ian’s younger brother Grant, would be with them for these conversations since they were members of the pack too.

I remembered how Uncle Jack was devoted to his wife and family just as all of the Lokoti Werewolves were.  Uncle Jack and his wife were something like 70 years old; but because he was a Werewolf he aged slower than his human mate.  It looked kind of funny seeing them together about the community, at how this man who appeared in his forties held hands with an elderly woman, or even when they kissed.   As was customary with Lokoti Werewolves and their ‘mate for life’ policy; they in no way looked on their wives with any less love.  When their mates died of old age, they mourned them deeply.  It became the custom that Lokoti Werewolves didn’t take another mate after the death of their first.

Opening my eyes again, I looked on the elderly Aunt Meg who was being comforted by her grown children.  Poor Aunt Meg, I guess she and Uncle Jack had always expected that he would outlive her.  As I looked on his surviving family, I started to realize something else… What was usually the way, the eldest son’s Lokoti Werewolf gene would be activated upon the death of their father or grandfather.  But the typical age bracket for a change to take place was between 10 – 25 years old.  Uncle Jack’s son was 30 years old, so he was too old for the change and his son whom was 9 years old was too young.

Hmm, I wondered who else could be activated instead?  I guess I’d find out on the next full moon, when a human Lokoti changed to become the fifteenth member of the pack.  As my eyes started to scan the other male members of the tribe between 10 – 25 years old my gaze met Declan’s once more. 

He was still glaring at me for some strange reason.  It was seriously starting to make me feel VERY uncomfortable.  I shot a scowl back his way, before I concentrated on staring at the tips of the flames, as they danced in the evening sky.

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

He would pull off the robe just before he changed into his shape of a European Werewolf and then he would put it on again, when he reverted back to human.

(‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 1)

It was still dark when I woke up from hearing the backdoor open in the kitchen.  I sat up as I watched Aunt Susan and Derik jump to their feet.

“Declan!” His mother cried out as she threw her arms about her eldest.

I watched the family reunion through the kitchen doorway.  Declan had just pulled on the spare bathrobe which always hung on the back of the kitchen door, when his mother pounced on him. 

He would pull off the robe just before he changed into his shape of a European Werewolf and then he would put it on again, when he reverted back to human.   Unlike the Lokoti Werewolves who could still wear jeans in their humanoid werewolf bodies, when Declan changed his form completely altered.  It was because of this, he couldn’t wear any clothes since they were torn apart. 

“Declan, is that blood?” Aunt Susan cried out as she pulled back to look on.

I saw his left shoulder had dried blood on it, which was rubbing off onto the white bathrobe.

“Relax Mom, it’s almost  healed.” He sighed.

“What happened?” Derik asked his older brother.

“Those stupid drunks from Alma - that’s what happened!” He growled unhappily.  “I’m OK, but Jack isn’t.”

Aunt Susan and Derik turned quiet as my stomach sank.

“Is Uncle Jack badly injured?” I asked from the couch.

Declan looked past his family as his eyes settled on my position in a grim look.

“Jack took two bullets to the brain, removing half of his head as another tore through his heart.”  He said unhappily.  “He didn’t survive.”

My eyes filled with tears as my throat tightened.  Uncle Jack… is dead?  I mean, he wasn’t literally my Uncle; we used the term ‘Uncle’ as a sign of affectionate respect.  Being one of the pack was more than just belonging; Mum once told me that the Lokoti Werewolves were not just empathic with their mates, but also with each other.  There was even a rumor that they had limited telepathic ability.  It was why Dad would suddenly leave the house and run out the front door with no word where he was going, like what happened tonight.

The European Werewolf released his human brother and mother and started to walk past where I was sitting, when he stopped to look down.

“I’ll just get some clothes on and I’ll drive you home.” He said flatly.

“No.” I tearfully shook my head.  “There’s no need and you’re wounded anyways.  I want to walk.”

“I can drive B home.” Derik offered.

“I said I’d do it so I’ll do it!” He suddenly said angrily, startling us all.  Then he left the lounge room and went into his bedroom to dress.

*****

Neither Declan nor I said a thing, as he drove me home in his old, light blue, pick up truck.  The sky was just starting to lighten with the onset of dawn and I felt cold, tired, hungry and emotional.  Tearfully, I stared out the window for the short trip and couldn’t wait to get home so I could cry openly.

His vehicle chugged up the steep, dirt road as we drove past my families houses before Declan turned into the driveway of Mum and Dad’s.  He pulled up in front of my veranda and left the engine running. 

Just as I was about to hop out, Declan suddenly put his hand over mine.  He squeezed it tightly which made me pause, as my breath caught and my heart began to race… I didn’t look at him nor did he look at me.

The heat of his hand actually began to travel up my arm and magically warm me all over, his grip was strong as it was tight.  I even began to feel his thumb start to caress my palm, putting butterflies in my stomach.  I sat there unmoving, not breathing and not blinking. Neither of us said a thing, leaving an eerie quietness in his truck. 

Next, I felt his fingers entwine with mine, making my eyes widen as I stared ahead out of the windscreen.   My butterflies grew worse, flying into a flurry; making me tremble when his fingers pressed into my palm and massaged it with his finger tips.  His touch was both direct and yet tender. 

Unconsciously, I started to squeeze his hand back but then my front door opened and Dad walked out.  Automatically, he pulled back his hand as he still didn’t look my way.

“Go get some sleep.” He said shortly.

Finally I started breathing again, almost hyperventilating when I quickly opened my door and climbed out.  I accidentally slammed the door shut, as I walked around the truck and up my veranda steps.  Dad gave a nod to Declan, who quickly reversed out of our driveway to drive off back down the hill.

I collapsed into tears in my father’s waiting arms and he squeezed me tightly before leading me inside the house.

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

Then he gave me a peculiar look, “Are you wearing a new perfume or something?”

  (‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 1)

I arrived at the bonfire in Ben’s back yard just before seven o’clock and found a large crowd of young people, between the ages of 12 to 22 already here.

Ben was two years older than me and was a mechanic along with Declan and Uncle Finn.  The garage they worked at was beside the general store/gas station. The boys called themselves ‘grease monkeys’ and played loud rock music all day as they worked on a car or motor bike or boat engine.  Declan may have been an arrogant asshole, but Ben was pretty cool. He was human, funny and charismatic.  He’s been holding bonfire parties in his parent’s large back yard since he was 14 years old.

“Hey Ben.” I greeted him first, since this was his party.

“Hey B!” He smiled exuberantly, as he shook my hand. “Welcome! Grab yourself a soda. My Mom and Dad are over there, doling them out.”

“Thanks.” I walked away to let him continue his conversation before I interrupted.  Ben was talking to Feather, one of the tribe’s prettiest girls.

“Hi B.”

“How’s it goin’, B?”

“Good to see you, B.”

I smiled as I said the expected pleasantries back to the familiar faces that I grew up with as I walked to the drinks table.   I saw Derik was talking to Pan, a boy who was a year older than us.  He noticed my arrival and waved me over.  I waved back and mouthed ‘in a minute’.  He understood and turned back to continue his conversation.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Shallow Water.” I greeted, approaching Ben’s parents.

“Hi Bianca.” She smiled warmly.  “How are you? How is your mother?”

“Good thanks.”

“Say hi to her for me, won’t you.” Mrs. Shallow Water said.  “Now what soda would you like?”

I looked at the bottles of root beer, creaming soda, lemonade and cola.

“I’ll go the cola please.” I pointed.

“Wise choice.” Mr. Shallow Water smiled and then he jokingly went on. “It’s a good year and was picked during a good harvest. It has a sweet flavor with a fizzy bouquet. Perhaps madame would like to sniff the beverage before consuming it?”

“Oh Cliff!” She laughed at her husband.  “Take no heed of him Bianca.  Here, enjoy your drink.” She passed me my plastic cup with the soda inside.

“Thank you.” I giggled at the both of them and then I turned around and I was about to head towards Derik, when I almost ran into Daniel.

“Bianca!” his eyes widened.

“Oh, Daniel! Sorry!” I laughed. “I didn’t mean to walk into you.”

“No harm done, you can walk into me any day.” He joked.

OK… I thought that was a bit of an odd thing to say.

“So, what are you drinking?” Daniel asked, looking at my cup.

“Um, cola.”

“Good choice, I think I might have the same.” He looked at Mr. Shallow Water who nodded and poured him a cup.  He passed it to Daniel who immediately took a large mouthful, before he asked, “what have you been up to, B? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh um, I’m studying a lot.” I shrugged.

“That’s right.” Daniel nodded.  “History, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When was the last time you went swimming in the river?” He next asked.

“Wow, what a good question… um, since ages?” I pondered.

“I’m going tomorrow with the usual gang.” He nodded towards his small group of friends standing off to the side, who like Daniel, were two years older than me. “You should come along.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, before it gets cold.” He recommended.

“Um, I’ll see.” I smiled uneasily.

Daniel has never asked me anywhere before, he’s always just been a friendly acquaintance and nothing more.

“OK then.” He half turned away.  “Well, I’ve gotta go back and join my friends.  Feel free to come and say hi to them. You’ll see that we’re actually not that scary.”

“OK.” I laughed lightly.

“See you around, Bianca.” He squeezed my arm and gave a meaningful look, the same kind of look I had seen my Dad give my Mum only half an hour ago…

I stood still to watch him walk off, but as soon as he rejoined his friends he looked back my way.   That IS weird!   Why is Daniel, this older boy who I hardly talk to, who I thought has never noticed me before, paying attention to me now? 

Just then Justin and Leaf walked past to the drinks table.

“Hey B.” Justin greeted.

“How’s it goin’, B?” Leaf asked politely.

“Oh um, what?” I snapped out of it.  “Oh, I’m fine thanks. How are you two goin’?”

“Not bad.” Justin shrugged.

“I can’t complain – no one listens.” Leaf said the old joke.  Then he paused to look on closely. “Are you wearing mascara?”

“No.” I gave him a funny look and so did Jack.

“Oh, sorry!  It’s just that your eyes looked different for a second then.” Leaf blushed and looked down.

“Were you going to try to get some beauty tips or something there Leaf?” Justin laughed and nudged his friend.

“Aw, shut up!” Leaf nudged him back.

“So B, what have you been up to lately? We don’t see you around as much anymore.” Justin asked.

“Studying.” I answered.

“What are you studying?” Leaf asked.

“History.”

“What kind of history?” He asked again.

“All kinds of History. I’m reading about Ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece and Rome.” I told him.

“Rome? Oh yeah, like gladiators and stuff.” He nodded.

“Yeah, something like that.” I sipped my drink.

“Do you have a favourite part in History that you like?” He inquired.

“Um no, not really.” I shrugged.  “I like all of it.”

“And how did you get interested in that sort of stuff?” Leaf looked on with wide eyes, almost as if he were drinking in the sight of my face.

I looked from him to Justin, wondering what was going on here?  He appeared just as surprised at his friend’s sudden interest in me as I was.   Justin and Leaf were cool guys, who were two years younger than I was.  Leaf was like a little cousin since he was Uncle Ian’s son.  His father was my father’s best friend and another Lokoti Werewolf.  But like Daniel, they were just casual acquaintances.  Until tonight, I had hardly said ‘boo’ to them except for polite acknowledgements at social gatherings such as this.

“How did I get interested in History? Um, I don’t know… I’ve always enjoyed hearing the stories about our tribe.  I also liked finding out about my Mum’s family line from England and Australia.” I looked downwards as I felt antsy to get away.

“So what are you doing tomorrow, B?” Leaf asked.  “Justin and I and a couple of the guys were going to have a game of soccer…”

…but before he could finish, he was interrupted.

“Alright small fry.” Declan suddenly appeared beside me.  “The lady’s taken. Skedaddle!”

Justin and Leaf’s eyes widened by the sudden appearance of the tribe’s most dangerous Werewolf, even if he was in human form.  They quickly turned around and left to talk to someone else.

“Declan!” I whacked him on the arm as I felt my cheeks burn.

“What?” He gave a funny look.

“What did you do that for?!”

“Oh, you mean you like having all the guys at this party fall over themselves for you?” He looked on unimpressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I felt my cheeks turn from red to crimson.

“No?” He arched his eyebrows.  “Either you’re the most popular girl here that everyone’s inviting to swimming in rivers or to soccer games…but I’m thinking that these guys aren’t exactly inviting you to these events for the sport, or that kind of sport anyway.”

Declan was looking about with his eyes narrowing and I looked around to see what he was looking at.  Beside Leaf and Daniel’s eyes looking my way, I actually noticed two other boys doing the same.

“Your popularity has certainly gone up around here.” He said stroppily.  Then he gave me a peculiar look, “are you wearing a new perfume or something?”

“What?” I took a step away from him.  “No!”

“Hey, don’t flatter yourself princess.” He sneered at my reaction.  “I’m here looking out for my brother’s interests.”

“Excuse me?”

“Derik is just a human so he can’t smell the elevated testosterone around you.” He sneered as he looked about again.

“Don’t be disgusting, Declan.”

“Go and stand with my brother and stop flirting with the other boys, would you?”

“Drop dead Declan.” I said icily before I walked away.

Instead of walking to Derik, I went over to Rachel and Mandy, two girls my age whom I used to hang out with in school and I still got together with.

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

To the Werewolves, it was easy with their infrared sight, to spot the Circulator or the psychic

  (‘Scent’ Excerpt Chapter 1)

To say that my family was ‘unique’ would have been an understatement.  With Mum and Gran being Circulators; their bio-electromagnetic frequencies are in temporal flux so they hardly aged.  Both my Mum and my Gran had the appearance of human women in their twenties.  But their husbands, Dad and Grandfather didn’t mind this one bit.  Since Dad, Grandfather and Uncle Julian were Lokoti Werewolves, they could live until they’re 200 years old.   My 56 year old Grandfather looked like a man in his early forties as my 39 year old Dad had the appearance of a man in his mid twenties.  As was the custom of our tribe except with my family, the Lokoti Werewolves outlived their human wives. 

Whereas we lived on the hill, the Sabre’s (pronounced Sar-bra, if you ever want to see Declan’s Werewolf eyes glow then mispronounce his surname) lived in the central community of our tribal lands where the sports field, general store/ gas station, garage, meeting hall and small library/ school were.  The Lokoti community centre was like a village primarily made up of residential homes on small streets, with simplistic gardens and greenhouses for families to grow their own fruit and vegetables.  All of the buildings here were made from wood which came courtesy of the surrounding forest.

The Lokoti Tribal Lands were safely tucked away in a small corner of the vast Lokoti National Park in the Alaska Range. We were situated 4.5 hours north of Anchorage and 1.5 hours south of Fairbanks.  The small township of Alma is 7 km’s away where before the War, the Lokoti kids went to school and families shopped in the supermarket there.  However since the War, Alma like many towns or cities of this planet, either turned into a ghost town or a crime hotspot thanks to looting.

Aunt Susan and Gran helped run our make-shift school which primarily went from when you were 7 – 15 years old.  But there were some kids like Derik and I, who continued our schooling by concentrating on different areas.  Derik loved studying science and I just loved studying history, so our parents continued to tell us what additional books we could read.  They even set us ‘assignments’ which we occasionally had to write up to show if we understood or not, the books which had been recommended. 

“He doesn’t just look like his Great Great Grand Uncle, Mike Sabre but he has disposition too… maybe Derik will become a Medicine Man?  Mike Sabre was a doctor.”  Gran shrugged to Aunt Susan.  She and Grandfather were especially close to Aunt Susan and her sons, as they helped the widow raise her young. 

Aunt Susan was equally proud of her two boys, although they were as different from each other as chalk and cheese.  Derik had brown hair, brown eyes and was academic, sensitive and easy to talk to.  He had been my playmate ever since we were babies as our birthdays were only two weeks apart.

However Derik’s older brother Declan, was another story.  He stopped going to school when he was 13 years old to become an apprentice mechanic instead.  Declan is soon to turn 21 and he’s the rudest, most arrogant boy in the tribe… with dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a constant scowl.  He bosses Derik around a lot, seeing himself as head of the family.  The only people I’ve ever seen him be nice to, are adults such as his parent, my parents and to my grandparents.   When Declan changed, the Lokoti Werewolf pack took him under their wing.  By taking him hunting every full moon in the National Park, they taught the young European Werewolf to replace his craving for human flesh to animal instead.

When Lokoti Werewolves change they still look humanoid; as their muscles bulk up, their eyes change colour and glow, the nails on their hands and feet turn long and hard, like claws. Their teeth become elongated and sharp as they have lightening fast reflexes and supernatural strength.  But when Declan changes, he completely morphs from man to beast.  He looks like a huge, hulking, hairless wolf with his height and weight doubling; which means he’s bigger and stronger than the Lokoti Werewolf.  His bright green eyes would glow in the dark and from the few times I’d seen them in Werewolf form, they still unnerved me. 

The fifteen Lokoti Werewolves are highly esteemed members of the Lokoti tribe. Three of our nine Tribal Elders are Werewolves.  The Lokoti Werewolves were seen as our guardians.   World War Three occurred three years before I was born and from then, the Lokoti Werewolves have patrolled our tribal lands, keeping us safe from looters during the outside world’s sickness and lawlessness.  They even fought foreign Werewolves who still feasted on human flesh, like the European Werewolf who killed Anthony Sabre and turned Declan.

Our tribe has become accustomed to the mish-mash of different breeds of Werewolves, or Circulators and other humans with special gifts.  To the humans, it became easy to spot a Werewolf in the crowd due to their towering height and strong build.  To the Werewolves, it was easy with their infrared sight, to spot the Circulator or the psychic, because of the auras they produced. 

And me…? I’m nobody special, not really. I’m the daughter, granddaughter and niece of Lokoti Werewolves but that’s it.  Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be a Circulator but I can’t circulate. I’m the last Circulator in all of human history, so my family says.  My appearance is nothing out of the ordinary either.  I’m 160 cm’s tall with typical straight, black Lokoti hair but I have my mother’s and my grandmother’s blue eyes.  My skin wasn’t bronzed like the Lokoti natural skin colour either and neither is Mum’s.  I think my mother and I get our colouring from my grandmother who is English. 

Gran has bright blue eyes, pale skin and wavy, chestnut brown hair.  Grandfather and Dad are either half or three-quarter Lokoti with the typical straight black hair.  But Grandfather’s grandmother was Caucasian so he has her blue eyes.  Nana, who is my Dad’s Mum, is Chinese-American so Dad has her pale skin and dark, sharp eyes.   With my blue eyes, they were darker than my family’s for some reason.  Maybe because my father’s Lokoti-Asian dark brown were mixed in?

“B!” I heard Mum call out.

“Yeah?”

“Dinner’s ready!”

I opened my bedroom door and skipped downstairs to take my place at the table.  I found Dad was home from his meeting with the Tribal Elders and the pack and  he helped Mum serve dinner.  They shared the jobs around the house like cooking and cleaning in equal measure, which included raising their beloved only child. 

“How are you B?” He smiled.

“Good thanks Dad. What’s for dinner?” I watched my parents serve up in the kitchen.

“Roast Duck and vegetables.” He answered. “We’ve got plenty of food here, it looks like we have enough leftovers for the next two nights.”

“I was expecting Derik would be staying for dinner.” Mum said.

“That boy’s got the appetite of a Werewolf alright, although he’s human.” He let out a laugh.

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"Wouldn’t it be nice if our daughter could wear the same clothes that we or our family, used to?”

  (Small Fry Chapter 8)

          Then he said quietly, "So you’re up here, reading in the cold and dust, to get away from the husband who is acting anything but helpful?”

          “Uh huh.”

          Next, I heard him take a couple of steps away, but still I wouldn't look up.  I thought he was about to climb back down the ladder, but he didn’t.  Instead, his footsteps crossed over to the boxes in the corner, as he proceeded to unstack them.  Eventually, I glanced upwards to see him open one and pull out a couple of baby jumpsuits and even an old toy.

          “You remember this, B?”  He held up the worn and faded, stuffed dog. 

          I sat up straighter in surprise, “Didn’t that used to be Derik’s?”

          “Yup.” 

          He tossed the toy over which I put the diary down to catch.

          “Hey, this is Frisbee!”  My voice rose in excitement, as I examined it.  “This ‘Pound Puppy’ was Derik’s favourite toy.  Whenever he slept over or I had sleepovers at your place; I remember he'd curl up with it.”

          “Ready for another old friend?”  Declan called.

          Then he tossed over an old, stuffed rabbit.  I put Frisbee in my lap along with the diary, to catch it next.  This time it was a ‘Bugs Bunny’ doll, with long, floppy, grey ears.  It still had the pull ring in its side, which I couldn’t help but to give it a gentle tug.

          “Hee hee, you’re a cute bunny!”  Bugs Bunny’s voice, chuckled.

          “It still works!”  I laughed aloud.

          “Do you remember his name?”  He smiled on.

          I pulled a face for asking such a stupid question.  “Bugs Bunny, but wasn’t he your toy?”

          “Uh huh," he gave a nod, "my Dad bought him when Mom became pregnant with me.  She told him that she was expecting and Dad was so ecstatic, he came home from work the next day with Bugs.  It was one of the few toys they brought when we came to Alaska to live, after the War.”

          Next, I watched Declan round up his and Derik’s old baby clothes from the box he'd opened.  Then he walked over to the other boxes I was sitting near, to open them.  He found more baby clothes to add to our collection.

          “I’m going to give these a wash and see how they turn out."  He advised.  Then he added on, "Wouldn’t it be nice if our daughter could wear the same clothes that we or our family, used to?”

          Then he loaded his large arms with the tiny clothing and made a move towards the ladder.

          He started to disappear down the attic hatch as he carried out his plan.  But before he completely vanished, he left his parting words, "If you take that diary down to read by the fire, you might find a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows waiting for you.  Hell, you may even find a plate of celery sticks and cream cheese, too.”

          I laughed aloud at his mood swing.  But I was also touched that this was his way of apologizing.  I wondered if my words about Flint Riverclaw kicked him into gear?

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“I don’t hate the baby…” he said unhappily, “…I just hate what it’s done to us.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 8)

          It was hours later when my husband found me, still sitting on the trunk with the diary in my hands.  I was so caught up, I didn’t hear him come home.  But here he was, in human form once more and wearing a change of clothes.

          Declan climbed up the attic ladder as he tracked me down by my scent.  He frowned as soon as he spotted me, reading under the single light globe hanging from the rafters.  I noticed with his height and broad-shoulders, he took up more room than I did.

          “What are you doing?”  He sounded surprised.

          “What does it look like?”  I replied curtly.  “I’m reading.”

          “Why are you sitting up in the attic, reading?"  He gave a peculiar look.  "Why aren’t you downstairs, reading by the fire?” 

          I said coolly, “I’m reading my great, great grandmother’s diary.”

          “Really?”  His eyebrows arose.

          “I told you I found them the other day, when I carried the box of Grandpa’s things up here.  I found them in this trunk.”  I patted my seat. 

          He came closer to see, "Oh yeah?”

          “I found them with some old photo albums.  Grandfather must have given them to Mum, when he and Gran evolved.”  I continued.  “It probably came with the stuff we packed up, after Mum and Dad left for the continuum.  I forgot how much stuff we have up here.”

          “Who knows what's hidden away.”  He remarked, as he looked about the dust and cobwebs.  “I keep meaning to do a spring clean, but I keep forgetting.”

          I pointed out, “I think in those boxes over there, are mine as well as my parents' old baby clothes and toys.”

          “Yeah, I think my Mom also kept some baby stuff left over from Derik’s and my childhood.  They’re in those boxes in the corner.”  He nodded in another direction.  Then he frowned when he saw me squint, whilst trying to read in the poor light.   “Again I ask, why are you sitting up here, reading that?  Why don’t you bring it downstairs to read?”

          “I like it up here.”

          “It’s frickin’ freezing up here and you hate the cold.”

          “It’s quiet and it’s peaceful and I’m among family,” I said flatly.

          “In other words you’re avoiding me," his hands moved to his hips.

          I didn't look up, “You can storm around and growl and hate this baby as much as you like.  Up here, the baby and I have peace and quiet, as we spend time with other women who’ve been in my condition.”

          “I don’t hate the baby…” he said unhappily, “…I just hate what it’s done to us.”

          “Can you please stop calling her ‘it’?”   I said unhappily.        

          “I thought Elisha’s diary was on her laptop," he changed the subject.

          “Elisha’s diary IS on her laptop," I retorted, "but I’m reading the diary of Jessica Tandy, the mate of Flint Riverclaw.”

          “Flint Riverclaw?”  He recognized the name.  “Isn’t he your great, great grandfather?  Wasn’t he your Grandfather’s grandfather?”

          “Yup, Jessica had a one night stand with Flint then three days later, he tracked her down to say she was pregnant and she was his mate.”

          “You’re kidding?”  He chuckled in amusement.  “What year did this happen?”

          I answered whilst looking down, “In 1999 and Jessica Riverclaw was a diabetic, too.  Pregnancy was a risky thing for her back then, but Flint Riverclaw helped her through it.  She had to give up her job and move to Alaska, which was then seen as the middle of nowhere.  However, Flint helped her to adjust as they established a new life together.”

          Declan turned quiet for a moment or two as my words sunk in. 

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