24th August 2240
My weakened state continued and coincidentally, the tribe had to contend with sickness too. I found out the day after our return, when I went to Maia and Forrest's to dole out the presents I'd bought during the trip. All three of their kids were coughing and sneezing, so I kept my visit short.
Forrest walked me to my car which was parked on their driveway.
"Thanks a lot for the toys and souvenirs," he said appreciatively. "I'm just sorry the kids weren't well enough to thank you too."
"Don't worry about it," I waved it off. "Do you and Maia need anything, like medicines or whatever?"
"We're all good, thanks Aunt B." He patted my arm. "I've taken this week off work to help look after our little 'pack'."
This made me smile on the doting parent, "You're a wonderful father, Forrest."
Modestly, he ducked his head then stood back when I climbed into my vehicle.
Instead of driving straight home, I stopped off to see Therese and Julius Sabre. They were getting on in years now and it worried me to find they were sickly too. It looked like the virus which was going around, had taken hold of the young or elderly. I dropped off their gifts and didn't stay long, either.
As I drove towards the hill my house sat on, I was distracted by how I was starting to feel. My throat felt like it was swelling up and when I tried to swallow, it hurt. That's strange, a sore throat was indicative of illness and Werewolves with their regenerative ability, don't get sick.
I parked my car in the garage then went inside the main house. I could hear Declan was cooking up something in the kitchen. It smelled like he was making fettuccine carbonara for dinner.
“B?” He called out.
I couldn’t reply because my throat was too sore, so I answered by coming to stand in the kitchen entryway. He glanced my way in the midst of his food preparation. But as soon as he saw me, he stopped in surprise. I don’t look that bad, do I?
“B, you’re as white as a sheet!" He said in concern and he crossed over to cup my face. "And your skin feels clammy. What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know...” my voice cracked, “…I don’t feel well, Declan.”
“If I didn't know better, I'd say you've got the flu." He frowned. “But our kind don’t get sick, your regenerative ability should fight it off. I’d better call Meadow to come and take a look at you.”
“I just need to lie down.” I croaked out. Then I saw he'd been making garlic break to go with the pasta dish. “I’m sorry but I don't think I can eat anything.”
“Go up to bed, I’ll bring you a juice or something.” He ordered.
Slowly, I turned away and made my way up the stairs. As soon as I entered the bedroom, I laid on top of the soft covers, shoes and coat and all. I didn’t even have the strength to take them off.
“OK," he walked in soon afterwards, carrying a glass of OJ. “I’ve called Meadow and he’s on his way.”
Declan placed the glass on the bedside table then set to work by removing my shoes and coat. Once they were gone, he sat beside to feed me the juice. He looked on in concern as I managed a few sips but then I couldn’t drink anymore. The acidic liquid stung my sore, swollen throat.
“C’mon B, you’ve gotta drink more than that.” He gently chastised, pushing the glass to my mouth again. I shook my head and reluctantly he put it back down. “Maybe I should give you some of my blood instead?”
I shook my head again, as the idea turned my stomach. Right now, it objected to consuming anything. I rolled out of his arms to curl up in a ball, on my side. I even shivered as I hugged my pillow.
I feel like crap… I feel like total and utter crap…I can’t remember feeling so wretched in my entire long life!
He hated seeing me shake so he curled up behind. By spooning me, he shared his body heat and mine gratefully drank it up. His overpowering warmth radiated throughout my aching being. Oh it felt like heaven!
“Hold me tighter," I pleaded.
So he did, by squeezing me against his larger and harder form, making me sigh appreciatively.
I wished we could have lain like this for eternity, but it only lasted for ten minutes. We heard a knock on the front door and sensed it was the tribe's Medicine Man, reporting in. My husband released me to go and greet him.
Next, I heard Declan say as he showed Meadow upstairs, "She’s pale, she says she feels cold and she’s clammy. Her throat is sore and she’s even wheezing a little, like she’s out of breath.”
The two men walked into the bedroom and over to the invalid on the bed. Our Medicine Man put down his ‘medicine bundle’, which was his black leather doctor’s bag. I lay still and watched as he took out his medical scanner and waved it in my direction.
Then he put the technology down to examine me the old fashioned way. He placed his hand on my forehead then he felt my glands on the sides of my neck. He checked my eyes and ears and he even put his ear against my back to listen to me breath. After he'd done all of this, he picked up the scanner to compare his diagnosis with the device's.
“Aunt B has a chest infection," he pronounced. "She's having difficulty breathing because of the mucus building up in her airways."
“A chest infection...?” My mate echoed in disbelief. “But we don’t get viruses.”
“Normally I'd agree with you. But I’ve seen five other patients today, all with the same symptoms. The scanner's detected a bug going around the tribe which the kids caught from playing with the children in Alma. I've heard that the doctors' surgeries in town are inundated with infected young and old.” He informed.
“But how can B have caught the bug?” Declan asked unhappily.
Meadow frowned as he looked on his patient, "She’s run down.”
“She’s run down?” He echoed again in disbelief.
“Aunt B isn’t just a Lokoti Werewolf.” Our physician reminded. “She’s also a Circulator.”
“Yeah, but even Circulators hardly ever get sick.” He argued back.
“If they spent all their time in phase then a virus can't get hold of their biology. But in human form, they're just as susceptible as any other human is." Meadow pointed out.
"But her mother and grandmother hardly ever got sick."
"I’m under the impression that when they become ill, often it's after they’ve used their abilities to excess.” Meadow mused and Declan’s eyes widened. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but with your little adventure in New Orleans, Aunt B did phase more than usual, did she not?”
“Frickin’ hell!” He kicked the end of the bed. “If I ever see those dead Voodoo freaks again…”
“Like a battery, she’s drained.” Our Medicine Man frowned. “Look at her aura, do you see how dim it is? She's completely run down.”
“Yeah, I see it.” He growled in annoyance and then he asked hopeful, "Will sharing my blood regenerate her?”
“If she had an injury, it would. But right now it’s the Circulator side of her which needs to be tended to.” He instructed. “She needs rest and plenty of it. Keep her hydrated with lots of water. If orange juice hurts her throat, give her apple and black current. And give her these three times a day”
Our Medicine Man opened up his doctor's bag again to take out a small, white, plastic jar which was label free.
“What are these?” The European Werewolf took the plastic lid off to sniff what was inside.
“A specialized blend of multivitamins and minerals combined with a unique steroid that’s meant to boost a Circulator's immune system.” He advised. “Vincent Moher gave them to me before he left for the space time continuum with her parents. He foresaw that as a Circulator, Aunt B may need them from time to time.”
Then Meadow repacked his scanner, closed his case and prepared to leave.
“Where are you going so fast?” My mate asked in annoyance.
“I have two other patients to see, two more children with the same bug that Aunt B has. Fortunately with her immune system, her symptoms aren’t as bad.” He said evenly.
“What do you mean, they’re not that bad?” Declan asked incredulous. “Look at her!”
“This afternoon, Moon and Ross Lightfoot had to drive their seven year old son to the hospital in Fairbanks.” He said seriously. “They called me half an hour ago to say the hospital has him on a ventilator because he can't breathe. He has the same chest infection that Aunt B does. The humans in the tribe aren’t as strong as Werewolves, Uncle.”
Instantly, the predator looked remorseful, “Sorry.”
“Drive to the drug store and pick up some Ibuprofen and ‘Vicks Vaporub’.” Meadow gave his last instructions. “The Ibuprofen will keep her temperature down and you rub the ‘Vicks Vaporub’ on her back and her chest, which will help her breathe easier. Another effective, traditional remedy is a cup of tea with lemon and honey, to help her throat.”
“Copy that," he gave a nod. “Thanks Meadow.”
Our physician returned it before he cast a last look my way.
As he left the room he said quietly, “When you come back, sit with her. A Lokoti Werewolf's will to live increases greatly, with their mate in close proximity. Your presence will boost her strength to fight off the infection.”
Declan gave a rueful laugh, “Isn’t that true of us all?”
Then the two went downstairs as he saw Meadow out.
I didn’t hear much more after that. My eyes started to sting because of how dry they felt, so I closed them. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but it happened so quickly it caught me unawares…
…
… the next time I opened my eyes again, it was because of Declan removing my top, to rub in the ‘Vicks Vaporub’.
“Did we have that in the house?” I wondered.
“Nope, I’ve been to the drug store and the supermarket while you were asleep.” He answered. "Now we have enough apple and black current juice, honey and lemon tea, Ibuprofen and Vicks, to sink a ship."
"But I only closed my eyes for five minutes," I mumbled out.
He removed my jumper and my t-shirt before he reached for the jar of Vaporub.
“Now lie on your side while I smear this stuff on you." He instructed. "Or, maybe we should get you into your pyjamas first and then put on this crap?”
“Crap?” I repeated. “Great bedside manner, Declan.”
“Man this stuff stinks!” He turned up his nose.
Next, he removed my jeans and socks before he helped me on with my pyjamas.
“I can’t say that I’ve ever helped you dress before.” He joked. “I’ve helped you undress plenty of times but never get dressed.”
He left off my pyjama shirt so he could smear the ‘Vicks Vaporub’ onto my chest then my back.
“At least there’s one good thing about you being sick.” He said as he worked.
“Hmm?”
“This," he gave a cheeky grin.
I noticed he took his sweet time to rub the stuff on the front of my body. I rolled my eyes and turned around to make him do my back. Then he helped me put on my flannel pyjama top and did my buttons for me.
Once I was changed and stunk of eucalyptus, Declan tucked me in under the covers. But before I could go back to sleep, he insisted that I take one of the tablets with a glass of the juice he'd bought. To placate the bossy European Werewolf, I acquiesced.
At last I could finally lie down again and it didn’t take long for unconsciousness to find me...
...
...I slept fitfully, tossing and turning from how much my body was aching. I must admit, the ‘Vicks’ did help my breathing. Whenever I started to cough, Declan would ply more to the skin on my front and back. Or he'd wake me to take my tablets with more juice.
A couple of times, I found him sitting in bed beside me, reading a book by his bedside lamp.
“What are you reading?” I asked sleepily.
He showed me the cover and I saw it was Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’.
“Haven’t you read that before?” I queried.
“Yeah about a hundred years ago.” He shrugged.
“I don’t like that book.” I frowned. “It’s too sad.”
“Yeah it is a bit.” He sighed as he kept reading.
“I don’t like it when the villagers blame the monster for the death of the small child.” I said dismally.
“No, it’s not my favourite part of the book.” He frowned.
I said emotionally, “Humans can be so mean. They’re afraid of us because they're scared we’re more violent. But humans are way worse than we are. I mean, Werewolves aren't to blame for the extinction of entire species.”
Declan held the book in his right hand as he used his left, to stroke my hair.
“Go back to sleep, B.” He said gently. “It’s time for all sick Circulators to get some rest.”
So I did, I fell into a delirious slumber where I struggled against the covers.
I couldn’t find a comfortable position to lie in because I ached so much. Even my skin was hurting! The Ibuprofen took the edge off the pain, but it didn't solve the problem. The virus was running rampant in a body which was so run down, it must have mirrored a road accident victim.
In my delirium, strange images danced inside my head. The sound of my heart beat turned into a drum beat. The eucalyptus in the ‘Vicks Vaporub’ turned into the musk of pine trees, in the surrounding woods. Sometimes I'd be looking over the forest as if I were floating above. Other times, I felt like I was flying through it, weaving between the trees.
"B, wake up." My mate gently shook me. "It's time to take more drugs."
"Hmm?"
"C'mon now, wakey wakey." He raised me into a sitting position.
"Come into the woods, Declan." I moaned out. "Can't you hear the drum beat? They're holding a ceremony somewhere."
"There is no drum beat, B."
"Yes there is!"
"OK, I'll break out the drum kit after you take your medication."
"We have a drum kit?"
"Sure we do, it's upstairs in the attic beside our magic carpet and our giant beanstalk."
Then I felt a tablet sit on my tongue before it was washed down my throat in a sweet, red, waterfall...
...
...into the second night of the fever, the bed was a mess as I couldn't lie still.
“I’m hot! I’m hot!” I kicked off the covers.
“No B, you need to keep the covers on.” He pulled them back over.
Futilely, I struggled against him so he scooped me up, covers and all, into his arms. He sat in bed, rocking his wife however, the wife didn't want to be held. I thought he was holding on too tightly, which not only made me hotter but it affected my breathing as well.
“Shhh," he tried to soothe. "Rest now, rest.”
“But I’m hot! It’s hot, Declan! You're making me hot!”
“That’s because your fever’s finally breaking.” I heard him say back. “If you kick off the covers, you could get a chill.”
“I want to get a chill!”
“No you don’t.” He said gently. "Now rest B, rest."
I gasped as I tried to gulp down the air. I literally felt like I was suffocating! I wheezed loudly and it was like the air wasn't reaching my lungs.
“I… can’t… breathe!” I struggled against him. “Get off me! I can’t breathe! Don’t lie on top of me, Declan!”
“I’m not lying on top of you, B!”
“I can’t breathe!" I cried out frightened. "I can’t breathe!”
I could feel his arms around me and I thought they were to blame. So I pushed him away and when I freed myself, I fell sideways! My face landed on top of the covers. Oh, was he holding me up to help me breathe better?
I coughed and coughed from something hard and cold in my back, which wasn't letting my lungs expand properly.
IT'S MY BACK - I thought desperately - THERE’S SOMETHING IN MY BACK NOT LETTING ME BREATHE PROPERLY.
Next, the European Werewolf started to thump it to loosen whatever it was. His strength might have harmed a human woman, but it was the right amount of force to shake up my chest. I spluttered but at least I could breathe again.
THANK YOU, I CAN BREATHE, BUT DON’T STOP – I pleaded.
“I won’t.” He said firmly.
Declan thumped for a good fifteen minutes however, he stopped when he was worried he'd bruise me. Then he sat behind, rubbing my back instead. When he stopped hitting though, my airways began to feel constricted again.
HIT ME – I requested.
“I can’t hit you anymore, I could damage you.”
I CAN’T BREATHE PROPERLY – I thought frightened.
So he rubbed harder. As he did, I thought on Moon and Ross Lightfoot’s son on a ventilator. Right then I envied him, at least he can breathe right now.
MAYBE YOU SHOULD TAKE ME TO HOSPITAL TOO – I thought resigned.
I felt him pause as I think my words surprised him. But then he rubbed my back even harder. He moved his hand around in a circular motion, to massage my rear rib cage.
“You know I can’t, B.” He said in a pained voice. “The advancement in medicine will pick up your differences as a Lokoti Werewolf.”
What, can’t I go to hospital ever? But what if I suffocate because of this chest infection? What if I die because of this?
“We’ll get through this.” He promised as he worked. Then he growled under his breath, “I didn’t fight off 'fang heads', other Werewolves and the Voodoo crazies, just to lose you this way.”
If I could have breathed, I would have cried at how isolated, helpless and scared I was feeling.
BREATHE B, BREATHE – he willed my way – STAY WITH ME, B. STAY WITH ME...
...
...Declan didn’t just rub more ‘Vicks’ onto my chest and back, but he tied my hair up into a pony tail so he could put it on my throat as well. He made multitudes of cups of lemon and honey tea, as the soothing, hot liquid coupled with the ‘Vicks’, seemed to melt the cold, hard thing in my back. Once whatever it was momentarily melted, I could breathe better.
At one stage I opened my eyes and I saw the time was 3.40 AM.
I was touched how he'd stayed up all night, tending to his sick mate. He was constantly moving around, either rubbing in the ‘Vicks’, or patting me hard on the back, or moving around the pillows to lie me on my side because I breathed better this way. He was in and out of the bedroom, with constant cups of tea. Our bedroom absolutely reeked of eucalyptus which his sensitive nose objected to. But he wouldn't leave my side, unless it was to make more tea.
I think Declan called Meadow again, as their thoughts intruded on mine.
B’S BREATHING IS SPORADIC - he thought to our Medicine Man - SHE NEEDS CONSTANT ‘VICKS’, OR TEA, OR ME TO HIT HER ON THE BACK.
DO WHAT I’M DOING WITH MAIA AND FORREST’S YOUNGEST - Meadow replied - SIT HER IN THE BATHROOM WITH THE HOT WATER TAPS ON AND CREATE A STEAM ROOM. THE VAPORS HELP THEM BREATHE. I CAN’T COME TO YOU YET, MAIA AND FORREST NEED ME HERE AS THEIR CHILD IS DANGEROUSLY ILL.
Then I felt Declan make a move off the bed, but I stopped him.
“No… I’m OK.” I wheezed. “We’ll… try that… as a last resort.”
“Nope, we’re gonna try it now.” He said firmly.
He left the bedroom and from the bathroom, I heard the hot water taps for the bathroom sink, the bath tub as well as the shower come on. Then he shut the door to trap the steam inside. Next, he walked back into our bedroom and threw off the covers.
Like I weighed no more than a feather, he lifted me up into his arms and carried me into the other room.
Declan kicked shut the bathroom door behind and sat down on the side of the bath tub with his mate in his lap.
Patiently, he sweated in the steam room although he hated the heat and humidity. He returned to rubbing my back as he anxiously watched. He was waiting to see if my breathing improved…and thankfully it did.
My wheezing died down as my lungs filled easily. I even coughed less. The 'steam room' was a godsend!
As I sat there in his lap with his large hand rubbing my back, I considered how easily he could carry me around.
My weight increased when I first turned from the extra muscle. I wasn't sure of Declan's weight, especially when he turned his width tripled. Did his weight triple as well? I wonder if my weight also increased when I changed?
Out of the blue, I asked, "How much do you weigh?”
“Huh?” Declan gave a peculiar look.
I said breathlessly, “When I first turned at 18 years old... my weight went from 60 kg's to 70 kg's... in human form... Do you think that increases again.... when I change and bulk up?"
"I guess," he shrugged.
"Then how much do you weigh...?" I wondered. "Your weight must go up too... when you change?”
“As a human I weigh 120 kg's and in my Werewolf body, it goes up to 240 kg's.” He said uncomfortably.
“What's wrong?" I breathed hard whilst looking on.
“Humans who are 120 kg's go on those horrible Reality TV shows like ‘Diet Hell’.” He scowled. "If a trainer ever tried to stop me from eating whatever I want, I'd eat him instead!"
“Yeah but… you don’t look overweight… you look like a body builder." I struggled to speak and breathe at the same time. "You look like... one of the trainers on ‘Diet Hell’… that boss around the fat people… and force them to eat less and work out.”
Declan chuckled as he planted a kiss on my cheek, “Thanks baby.”
“At least you’re not a woman… it's bad for a woman… to be 170 cm’s tall and weigh 70 kg's.” I caught my breath before talking again. “I’m not petite or lady-like… other women ask me... to take the lids off jars for them.”
“Well I’m 190 cm’s tall and sometimes I have to duck or turn sideways to go through doorways." He rubbed my back. "Don’t worry baby, I have it harder than you.”
“I wish my shoulders weren’t so broad…" I said wistfully, "... I wish I looked like my old human self.”
“I don’t!” He said indignant. “If you'd stayed human, I’d probably be dead now from sexual frustration! I'd die if I couldn’t touch or have the woman I loved. It was my lucky day when you changed.”
This made me stare into his bright blue eyes, which were wide. Sitting in his lap, our heads were around the same height so our faces were inches apart. My hand reached up to touch his lips with my fingertips.
He went on, “You’re my beautiful B. You’re tall and you’re strong and normally you glow when you’re healthy. I’m not attracted to weak women, I’m attracted to my Werewolf wife.”
Ooohhh… my already pounding heart from struggling to breathe, now pounded from the force of emotion.
Then he joked, “So I'd appreciate it if you didn’t die on me.”
I let out a short laugh as I wrapped my arms about his neck. Declan hugged me back as he continued to rub. I was feeling much better now thanks to both the steam and his words. My cheek rested on his wide shoulder as my eyes started to close...
“B?”
“Hmm...?”
“Are you falling asleep?”
“Hmm.”
“I suppose that’s a good sign," he half said to himself.
“Hmm.”
His hand ran up and down my back as he held his wife closely. “Sweet dreams baby and just remember to breathe for me...”
...
...the sound of my husband's heart beat turned into a drum beat once more. I could smell the pine as I floated around the woods. It was night time and I saw a distant campfire, with shadows of people dancing around it.
Why were people dancing around the campfire? It looked tribal instead of ballroom or modern. It was men with long, dark hair, dancing topless as older men, or women and children sat around, watching them. A couple of the older men played the drums and the audience sang in an old language.
I watched from above where I could feel the heat from the flames.
I feel so hot! I felt like I was being cooked like a pig on a spit. Sweat was pouring out of me, but I was too weak to do anything about it.
“Declan… take me away from the campfire… it’s too hot.” I whimpered. “Please Declan… take me away from the flames… I'm so hot!”
“She’s been mumbling like that for three days.” I heard my mate say. “If she’s not dribbling about the woods, she’s on about people dancing in them.”
“She’s been delirious that long?” Meadow sounded.
“Let's just say she's had more 'trips' in the last 72 hours than a hippy at Woodstock."
“Maybe we should turn off the heater.” He suggested.
“No way!" My mate's reaction was immediate. "Heat is the only thing that helps her breathe properly. I sat her in the bathroom for an hour until the hot water ran out. As soon as it did, she started suffocating again. I found this old heater in the attic, which we used before we had central heating installed. If I take away the heater, she can’t breathe.”
"This summer has been warmer than usual, I'm surprised that you've needed it." Meadow mused. "The heat's been blamed for incubating the virus and helping it spread. The first case occurred in Canada during its surprise heat wave in the beginning of June."
"Trust me, the air outside is warm enough for me." Declan said unhappily. "But it's turning this room into a sauna, or a choking wife."
“Well, it looks like you’ve got the situation under control." Our Medicine Man commended. "I’ll come and check on Aunt B tomorrow.”
“Meadow," he stopped him. “If she gets worse, is there any way I can take her to a hospital? Can I just get them to help her breathe, but not run any tests?”
“I don’t think so, Uncle.” The physician warned. “They'd scan her to confirm what kind of virus it is, as part of her treatment.”
Declan emitted a dissatisfied growl but Meadow was optimistic.
“Aunt B is doing a lot better than a quarter of the tribe who has this. So far, ten people have been rushed to Fairbanks Hospital; six elderly and four children. And these are our tribes' people, not including those in Alma. This virus has to be the worst I’ve seen in fifty years.”
“You didn’t see her last night," he warned. “She was literally suffocating at one stage.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing." Our Medicine Man left as his parting words. "Keep her hydrated with water and juice but try doubling the dosage of the steroid. I’ll come again tomorrow to check on her.”
My husband responded wearily, “If you say so.”
Then their footsteps left the room as he escorted out the medical practitioner...
...
...I was feeling a little better the next time I woke up and found it was evening again. My pyjamas were damp from how much I was sweating. I reeked of eucalyptus and body odour, which made me crave a shower.
I turned my head to find Declan sitting on his side of the bed, reading another book. This time I saw it was ‘Jane Eyre.’ I opened my mouth to speak, when my lips hurt from how dry and cracked they were.
“Another depressing story?” I croaked out.
“My Mom recommended it.” He said simply. “It was when I used to read the romantic classics before we were mates, coz I wasn’t getting any.”
Then he gave a wink as he continued with his book.
I recalled his mother telling me about this period in his life. It was when he read romances because he was lonely and frustrated. He'd pass them off by saying he was studying the ‘classics’, such as 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' etc. Personally, I thought he shouldn't have worried about it. You'd have to be pretty stupid to tease a European Werewolf about its reading material.
“When I tried reading it 150 years ago, I couldn't get into it.” He continued. "It was too depressing."
“Why are you reading it now?”
“I need to keep my mind busy.”
“Why don’t you go to sleep?”
“Coz I can’t sleep properly.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m worried about you B," he turned his head to give a long look. "That's why."
“Oh.”
“Being one of my kind, I feel especially angry when my mate is in danger and I can’t do anything about it.” He growled out. “If this virus was a person, it'd be in pieces by now. Unfortunately I can’t attack sickness.”
I believed him too, considering what he did to the last three people he deemed were a threat.
“Today’s the first day I’ve heard you breathe almost normally, without the heater being on.” He passed the old electrical device a glare. "You seem more lucid, too."
"How long have I been out for?” I wondered.
“Today is day four.”
I blanched, “I’ve been asleep for that long?”
“You’ve been delirious for that long.” He said. “Last night you asked me to take you for a ride on the magic carpet you thought we kept in the attic.”
“I did?”
“You haven't eaten in four days, either." Declan declared. "Every time I tried to feed you Vegemite on toast, you'd spit it back up. Did you wanna try again?"
“What, eating?”
“No, ballet dancing." He said sarcastically. But I didn’t take offence considering how tired the poor guy looked. He slowly stood up before he turned back. “I feel like some toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches. You want?”
“I’m still not hungry," I admitted.
This made him even angrier as he moved his hands to his hips to glare down.
“I’m going to make you a toasted sandwich and you’re gonna eat it!" He raised his voice. "If you don’t eat it, I’m going to jam my cut wrist into your mouth and force feed you that instead!”
Boy, he must be exhausted! There was no way in hell I was going to argue with an infuriated European Werewolf. I didn’t have the strength for it, or to phase to safety.
“OK,” I managed back.
He spun on his heel and stalked out of our bedroom with a determined look on his face.
Fifteen minutes later, a dinner plate with five toasted tomato and cheese sandwiches piled onto it, sat on my blanketed lap.
“Declan, come on!" I objected. "There's no way I can eat that much!”
“You’re not expected to, four of those are mine.” He said coolly.
He shoved a toasted sandwich triangle into my hand before picking up another. Then he sat beside, watching me as he munched on his. Gingerly, I took in a mouthful of cheese and tomato. He watched my jaw move up and down then my throat move when I swallowed.
“Good, that’s your first bite and now for your second.” He bossed about. He'd scoffed down his triangle and picked up another, as I took my second bite. He continued to watch me chew and swallow. "Go on, keep eating."
I did… and again… and then again. I managed to finish the first half of a toasted sandwich, when he handed me the second half. Oh no, I didn’t think I could eat anymore, even holding the food made me feel full! I raised the triangle to my mouth, but then my hand flopped down to the bed covers.
“I can’t…”
“Yes you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“B, please! Eat! You have to build your strength again.”
"If I force this down, I'll throw it back up." I said unhappily. "But I'm feeling a bit better today, I promise."
“You still smell weak.”
“That’s because I’m sick.”
“No shit Sherlock, now eat the frickin’ sandwich!”
But I couldn’t. I even tossed it away to illustrate my point that food couldn't cure my ills. The toasted sandwich triangle lay unloved on the end of the bed.
I heard a growl escape from my determined carer, as he picked up one of his triangles and moved it towards my mouth.
“No Declan,” I turned my head away. “I can’t, truly I can’t.”
He lowered the triangle as well as the plate of food, and looked away dejectedly.
“I feel disgusting…” I moaned. “…how long has it been since my last shower?”
“That’s the problem," he said flatly.
“What that I stink?”
"No, that you smell a little too ripe.”
“Huh?”
“Your body odour B, your pheromones are concentrated in your sweat.”
“What?”
He confessed, “Half the time I’m lying here, watching you sleep and hoping that you don’t stop breathing. The other half, I’m holding myself back from pouncing on you.”
“Declan!”
“What?”
“I’m dying and you still wanna jump me?!” I cried out in disgust.
“Tell me about it!” He bad-temperedly slammed the plate of food on the bedside table so hard, it cracked. “Why the hell do you think I’m reading ‘Jane Eyre’?!”
I rolled onto my side so my back was to him. However, he wasn't put off and he lay down behind, to spoon his mate. Next, I felt his arms wrap around as he held me close... then I overheard him inhale deeply.
“Declan," I sung warningly. "Stop it."
"You know what you remind me of? A cavewoman. With your hair all matted and your skin all sweaty, you've got the primitive look down pat. I wanna throw you over my shoulder, carry you to my cave and follow my primal urges."
"Eew!" I moaned. "I'm so not in the mood."
"I think my bloodlust likes your bed-hair, as you look like a feral cavewoman who could maul me in the throws of passion."
I whined out, “I want a shower! I want clean pyjamas! I want clean sheets on this bed! I want me and this room to be freshened up!”
“I don’t," he retorted. “This is the fourth day that I haven’t got any. The only comfort I have are your frickin’ pheromones.”
“Deeeccclllaaaaaan….!!”
I felt him bury his face in my messy hair, as he gave a tight squeeze before he took a deep breath then raised his head.
“Alright already," he groaned. “Shower and changed, I get it.”
Reluctantly, he raised himself from the bed and left the room. But I didn't hear the shower turn on, but the bath run instead. He must have thought I hadn't the strength to stand under the water...
...
...although my husband had his faults he could also be faultlessly generous.
Not only did he carry his sick mate into the bathroom, undress her and lower her into the bathwater, but he helped wash her hair as well.
Momentarily, he left me alone to change the sheets. When he carried the dirty ones down to the laundry, he returned with a bucket. He filled it with warm water which he poured over my head. After my hair had been lathered in shampoo, he poured another over to rinse it out.
Half an hour later, I sat in a clean bed in a freshened room, feeling much more hygienic. I'd also changed pyjamas and I was in my red flannel ones with the Daffy Duck pattern. Declan who'd joined me in the bath towards the end, sat in a clean pair of boxer shorts.
“Actually, you're right.” He mused. "It does feel better after that little spring clean."
I asked in surprise, "Hadn’t you bathed either?”
“Babe, I haven’t done jack besides play nurse to you.” He said matter-of-factly. “Hell, I almost put on a little white dress and cap.”
“The romantic things you say,” I smirked.
“You better believe it," he gave a grin.
I snuggled down as he switched off his lamp then lay beside. I moved my head to rest on his chest and he wrapped me in his arms. I also had a leg and an arm over him, as I basked in his high body temperature. So he wouldn't overheat, he pulled up the sheet but not the quilt.
“At least you’re breathing properly." He spoke in the darkness. "Your wheezing and coughing won’t keep me up anymore.”
“Thanks Declan," I said flatly.
“I hate it when you wheeze." He continued. "You sound like an eighty year old human in the middle of a hard winter.”
“Thanks Declan.”
“I married you because you WON’T age like a human does.”
“Thanks Declan.”
“I expect you to breathe like a twenty-something year old Werewolf, the way you look like a twenty-something year old Werewolf.”
“Thanks Declan.”
“And tomorrow you're gonna eat the big breakfast I'm gonna cook up and get your strength back.” He ordered. “I'm so horny, I’m about to lose control!”
“Declan, shut up.”
I felt him chuckle as he held me tighter. Like this, he rolled his head in my direction to sleep whilst inhaling my scent. His steady heartbeat filled my ears as his rising and falling chest, rocked me to sleep.
The pounding of his heart turned into the pounding of a drum. I was back in the woods at night time again. Through the trees, I spotted the familiar campfire that a Native Alaskan tribe of old, sat around. The younger men were dancing, as the older men played on drums made of hide. The women and children sang, as the men's dancing increased in fervour.
I noticed how their suede clothing looked like our traditional 'skins' worn for tribal celebrations such as Joining Ceremonies. But the fifteen dancers who were topless, just had suede pants on. The beadwork on the tassels looked Lokoti and some of the older men playing the music, had painted claw marks down the sides of their faces, the symbol of the Lokoti Wolf.
Suddenly the clouds parted in the sky above to reveal a full moon.
The dancing men all threw back their heads and howled! As they did, I watched their bodies expand with muscle bulk. Their eyes glowed a different colour, as their open mouths revealed their teeth turning elongated and sharp. Claws appeared on the ends of their fingers and toes, as the fifteen men turned into the fifteen members of the Lokoti Werewolf pack.
Seeing their change in the moonlight made me feel like changing to join them…
Abruptly, the pack all leapt into the woods as they raced away from the campfire. They all bolted in the same direction and I sensed they were on the hunt. They ran through the trees at speeds of up to 200 km/h as they fell into formation, flanking their First. This Werewolf had glowing purple eyes, which glinted dangerously as the bloodlust was upon him and his men.
As I watched them, my bloodlust boiled as it wanted to hunt with them. I wanted to feed with them. I wanted to taste fresh kill so badly! I needed to bask in the warm flesh and blood of my meal, right after its heart had stopped.
“B?”
I wanted to change and run beside them, on home soil under the light of the full moon.
“B, wake up!”
I want to change – no, I need to change - I have to revert! I have to make the hunger go away! I want to run with my kin and purge my bloodlust.
“B, you’re glowing! Stop it! Now wake up!”
I growled at the person shouting and shaking me, as I tried to hold onto this vision...
The Lokoti Werewolves raced away and I lost them through the trees. I was just too slow in this sick, human body. But I knew how I could catch up to them...as a Circulator. I could use my ability to run in light speed and rejoin my pack.
I felt my body tingle all over as I turned into light. Going into phase freed me from my weak, mortal form. I relished these feelings as well as the rushing sensation I experienced, as my light particles passed through time.
“B, stop it! You're going into phase! You're not supposed to use your Circulator ability when you're sick!”
I think I reformed into my biological body again, but for a couple of seconds I wasn't so sure. That was until… whoomp! It felt like I'd fallen out of bed.
“B, wake up, damn it!”
My eyes popped open to find myself looking up at the leaves on a branch. Hang on, why am I gazing up at trees? Or better yet, why am I lying in the dirt? Where did the bed go?
I sat upright as my mate did too, with us both looking about the dark forest we found ourselves in.
“Um Declan, why are we in the woods, in our pyjamas?” I asked, confused.
He said indignant, “Because you just put us here!”
“Huh?” I looked on, baffled.
“You started to glow! When I tried to wake you, you frickin’ went into phase! And because I was touching you, I went into phase too!” He said in annoyance.
“I brought us here?”
“Yes!”
“But – but – but where is here?” I wondered aloud.
“How the hell am I supposed to know?!” He stood up angrily. “You’re the frickin’ Circulator! Where the hell did you take us?!”
“I – I – I don’t know.” I looked about. “I had a dream I was watching the Lokoti of old and I saw the pack run into the woods -”
“Frickin’ hell, you're delirious again!” He interrupted. “Oh that’s just wonderful. So, can we expect either Attila the Hun, or a frickin’ dinosaur come to attack us?”
“What, in Alaska?” I gave a funny look. “Look Dec, I know you only went to school until you were thirteen, but I can assure you that Attila the Hun was in another country.”
He passed a dirty look before he turned and walked away to investigate our surroundings.
Slowly, I climbed to my feet from feeling incredibly weak again. I looked over to see my husband sniff as he surveyed the geography. Then he stopped in front of a certain tree.
“B, look at this," he gave a nod.
I saw it had a peculiar bend in the trunk from growing too close to another.
“That looks like the tree at home, on the edge of our property.”
“Uh huh.”
“What, we’re home?” I examined the area.
“Look at how the ground is sloping, we’re still on top of the hill that our house sits on. The only question is -”
“ - when, because our house isn't here.” I finished for him, as I walked over to stand beside.
"The tree looks pretty young, doesn't it?" He postured. "It's not as tall as it is in our time."
“Uh huh.”
“Your grandfather told me that many of the trees on tribal lands as well as inside the National Park, are a couple of centuries old.”
“So we’ve gone back in time by a few hundred years? At least we’re still home, on Lokoti land.” I sighed in relief.
“Great," he frowned about something.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’ve gone so far back in time that this hill doesn’t have any houses on it yet." He explained. "Your grandfather told me that the Lokoti didn’t start to build houses like the European's, until the beginning of the 20th Century.”
“So?”
“Which means that the Lokoti Werewolves in this era, will see me as a threat." He said unhappily. "I'll be a foreign foe on their territory. It'll be centuries yet until I'm adopted by the pack and they see me as one of their own.”
“Oh," my face fell.
“Speaking of which," he looked in a particular direction. “They’ve picked up our scent and they know we’re here.”
“They have?” I turned my head.
I sniffed the air but I couldn’t smell anything, however his hearing and sense of smell were better than mine.
“B, I think you should take us back now," he said uneasily.
“But why? They’re our people." I disagreed. "When they see and smell us, they'll know we're kin."
“Yeah, when they see YOU and smell YOU, they’ll tell you’re Lokoti and even a Lokoti Werewolf." He argued. "But all they’ll see when they look at me, is my blonde hair, blue eyes and white skin. Worse still, they'll smell I’m a European Werewolf, the most hated breed there is!”
Just then my sensitive ears picked up the sounds of heavy footfall. It was the pack running towards us, up the forest encrusted hill. Now I smelled my kin but interestingly, I caught the scent of something else. It was something different and yet something spookily familiar.
My intuition as a Circulator sensed there was something achingly familiar about this new scent. The feeling wasn’t ominous, but it was telling me that there really was kin here. My heart raced in excitement to see who it was.
“C’mon, let's go.” He grabbed hold of my arm.
“No, wait.” I shook him off. “Declan, do you smell that?”
“Yeah, fifteen territorial Lokoti Werewolves are on their way to attack!”
“No, I mean the other smell.” I spoke excitedly. “Can’t you feel it?”
“B, what is WITH you tonight?!" He objected. "Take us home NOW!”
“Not yet.” I shook my head.
Right as I said that, fifteen Lokoti Werewolves wearing the suede pants of old, sprang through the trees! The pack fanned about us, snarling threateningly. Their glowing eyes glinted murderously, as they faced off what they perceived as a threat.
I looked on all of their eyes and using the colours, I tried to pick out their family lineage. I saw then smelled by bloodline, who was a Riverclaw, or a Wisetail or an Elm. As I did so, I saw that the Riverclaw and Wisetail Werewolves did the same to me. They sniffed once more, to confirm it was their blood somehow inside the foreign female in their midst.
By the way the First was standing out in front with the others flanking him, I saw it was a Lightfoot with glowing purple eyes. Their Second looked to be the Riverclaw Werewolf with blue eyes, with the Wisetail standing on the side of him with his red eyes. To his side, I guessed was an Elm Werewolf with glowing silver eyes.
From their puzzled expressions, they could smell I was kin but it was my appearance which baffled them. I sensed my paler complexion from my Caucasian ancestry caused confusion. So did my pyjamas, as they looked on the unfamiliar cartoon character, printed on the fabric. The Elm Werewolf edged closer, sniffing me as he moved.
“B," my husband spoke quietly. “Slowly back up to my position.”
I was about to ask why when I realized it was so we would be seen as mates.
As I took a step back, the Lokoti Werewolves jumped like they were on guard! Their eyes narrowed suspiciously, as they wondered why I was allying myself with the alien breed. Slowly, I took another step back and then another. As I came to stand beside my mate, the pack looked on in distrust.
Then something unusual happened, the Elm Werewolf slowly crept forwards as he continued to sniff.
Frickin' hell, I think he got a whiff of my pheromones and he must have been a single male.
However, I wasn't a single female. I heard a low growl emitted from my mate, which was directed at the Elm Werewolf to stop his pursuit. Oh oh, we soon found out this was the wrong thing to do, especially being strangers on their territory. We heard the escalated growls from the pack, as they rallied behind their own.
Just as I opened my mouth to try to explain that we weren’t a threat, the Riverclaw and Wisetail Werewolves grabbed me! Then the rest of the pack attacked Declan! All at once, thirteen Lokoti Werewolves pounced with their mouths open and their claws ready.
“No!” I cried out, quite uselessly, as the Lokoti had no idea what the English word ‘no’ means.
The Riverclaw and Wisetail Werewolves tried to pull me away from what they saw as the dangerous party.
Declan with his faster reflexes even in human form, was able to toss aside four in several self defence moves. But nine more were quick to take their place. My stomach lurched, as I watched my mate battle it out.
Soon he began to falter, fighting in his human body against the thirteen Lokoti Werewolves, in their supernatural bodies.
They used their teeth and claws to inflict their harm, as he used fists and combat training. I sensed he was trying to hold off for as long as possible from changing. He knew that once the Lokoti Werewolves saw him in his other form, they'd go all out to kill him. Right now, they were trying to wound and claim dominance.
“Declan!” I flinched in sympathy.
Bloodied teeth and claw marks appeared in his human skin, as the Riverclaw and Wisetail Werewolves continued to pull me away. But I managed to dig my feet in the ground, as I refused to leave my mate! Simultaneously as I expanded into my stronger, female Lokoti Werewolf body; I heard Declan’s boxer shorts tear, as he too increased into his European Werewolf shape.
The Caucasian in their midst grew in stature to almost twice their height, as his width expanded to three times as wide. The bloodied gashes in his skin regenerated as hardened hide replaced it. His face extended into a short, stubby snout over razor sharp jaws. Like this, the beast towered over the smaller predators and flexed his larger claws.
Out of the blue, the smallest Lokoti Werewolf leapt onto his huge back, like he had something to prove. He looked as young as fourteen, as he tried to dig his teeth and claws into the European Werewolf's thick neck. I almost laughed at the whole ‘Scrappy Doo’ mentality of, ‘Let me at ‘em! Let me at ‘em!’
Declan who was unharmed and amused, plucked the little one from his back and held him up in the air, before his dangerous jaws. Then he shook his monstrous head at him before gently placing him on the ground. This made the pack pause, as I caught them exchange surprised glances.
They wondered why the European Werewolf didn’t try to eat their kin, but put a stop to him in a way which was considerate?
Even with my extra strength, I wasn’t strong enough to break free. So I surprised my captors when I used my ability to phase to slip from their grasp. It made the pack blink in disbelief, as I raced over to Declan’s position in light speed. Then I stood in front of him in a protective gesture, as I growled warningly.
I don't think it was my show of muscles underneath my stretched pyjamas that made them pause, but it was the fact that I looked like a bright blur when I ran.
The Lokoti Werewolves shared their puzzled thoughts with each other.
HOLD OFF YOUR ATTACK – The Lightfoot Werewolf ordered - THERE IS MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE WITH THIS PAIR.
They began to back away whilst growling threateningly.
WHY IS THE FEMALE LOKOTI WEREWOLF DEFENDING THE FOREIGN BREED LIKE HE’S HER MATE? – The Wisetail Werewolf pondered.
BECAUSE HE IS MY MATE! – I thought back.
Shocked, the pack's mouths fell open as they looked on.
First, I surprised them by being a Lokoti they’ve never seen before. Then I surprised them by turning into a Lokoti Werewolf, since women weren’t supposed to turn. Now that I could communicate with them, they didn’t know what to say.
DECLAN, SAY SOMETHING – I ordered.
There was a pause, as the Lokoti looked on the European breed, sceptical that he'd be able to.
I’M TIRED AND I’M HUNGRY AND I WANT TO GO HOME TO BED – he thought grouchily.
Silence… until the Lightfoot Werewolf started to laugh, as did the Wisetail and the Riverclaw then so did the rest of the pack. Our kin now approached us in a less confrontational manner.
WHO ARE YOU? – The Riverclaw Werewolf wondered.
I AM BIANCA SABRE – I answered - MY MOTHER IS A RIVERCLAW AND MY FATHER IS A WISETAIL.
The Riverclaw and the Wisetail Werewolves exchanged further looks of surprise.
WHY ARE YOU HERE? – the Lightfoot Werewolf asked.
BY ACCIDENT – I admitted - I COME FROM THE FUTURE.
Many of the pack exchanged glances, as half believed me and the other half didn’t.
I AM THE FIRST FEMALE LOKOTI WEREWOLF – I telepathically declared - AND I AM THE LAST LIGHT PERSON.
That got their attention, as I sensed they all understood the term 'Light Person' even in this timeframe.
SHE DID MOVE LIKE LIGHT – the Riverclaw Werewolf looked to his First.
SHE DOES HAVE AN AURA LIKE THE OTHER LIGHT PERSON – the Lightfoot Werewolf agreed.
I was quick to ask – WHAT OTHER LIGHT PERSON?
However, our exchange was interrupted by several human Lokoti arriving on the scene. The male Warriors moved out from the trees, armed with silver-tipped arrows on their bows. Their weapons were aimed at the gargantuan monster on their land.
Instantly, I moved in front of Declan in a protective posture. At the same time, I was hoping not to get shot with silver again. My head momentarily hurt, as it remembered the last time I was injured this way.
Since I was a much smaller than he was, I don't think I made a very good shield. Whilst he was standing upright on his hind legs, his heart and his head which needed the most protection, were above me. Then the Lightfoot Werewolf saved us the trouble, when he held up his hand to stay their weapons.
Next, he gestured for them to come to his position which they obeyed. However, they moved slowly as they kept their weapons ready, incase the giant proved dangerous. To look less intimidating, Declan shrunk back into his human shape.
The Lokoti watched fascinated by his shape shift. His bones made soft cracking noises as they contorted and his snout retreated back into his head. Then my naked mate pulled me behind him, to protect me instead.
“Purto!” The Lightfoot Werewolf waved over one of the Warriors.
A Native American man with a tattoo on the left side of his face, slowly came forwards. His bow and arrow were lowered, but he looked on my mate in mistrust. Declan and I however, gazed at him in curiosity. He seemed more South American than Native Alaskan and I could smell he wasn't Lokoti.
He openly examined my mate's blonde hair and blue eyes but when he looked at me and especially my clothes, it was in astonishment.
Then this Purto asked in English, "Is that Daffy Duck?”
*****