Forbidden Alliance A Werewolf's Tale - By Danae Ayusso
I sniffed the air wildly, trying to catch his scent. Typically it would have been elementary to track him, his scent was ingrained in my mind like no others, but the punk cut through a field of blooming lavender. The swaying field of purple and green was assaulting my heightened senses and flooded my mind with an eerie calmness.
I hated aromatherapy.
How long had we been at it today? One, two, twenty-four hours already?
I was done.
I stretched out in the middle of the field, pulling my hind legs under me, and rested my maw on my front paws. It wouldn’t take long until he came around and attempted a surprise attack… until the one hundred-sixty pound werewolf landed on top of me, so I might as well enjoy the rarely seen morning sun while I had the chance. I closed my eyes and let the breeze blow through my white fur; I would need a shower after that otherwise I’d stink like lavender all day.
Nearly every morning for the past ten years I had played hunter and prey with my best friend, Yahto. It was Yahto who stumbled across me while playing with his brother on the beach. It would be thirteen years ago that Friday since I joined the Lhaq'temish. He and his brother, Chayton, found me among some driftwood, unconscious and tangled in seaweed. They think I washed up on shore but no one knows for sure...especially me. I didn’t remember anything, not even my name. Everyone called me Jay Dee, it was short for Jane Doe, how original.
Initially they thought I was human. I didn’t smell like a werewolf but they knew that there was something different about me. When I phased into a wolf for the first time, even more questions arose. The members of my pack all had very dark fur when in wolf form: black, browns, and dark reds. When I was in wolf form, I had white fur that was comparable to the snow. The tribal elders think whispered I was a Varulv, which was an extinct Norwegian werewolf. Whether or not I was Varulv or not, the Lhaq'temish were my family and pack. I had been with them for nearly my entire life, thus it was only natural that I considered myself one of them. Though I suppose it didn’t matter; I loved it there and never wanted to be anywhere else.
But sometimes it was hard being the standout sore thumb of the family, especially when another tribe or pack visited. Imagine their surprise when they saw the tall girl with white blonde hair and black eyes sitting next to the chief, my adoptive father. In a territory of bronze skin, black hair, and bloodlines that could be traced back fifteen generations and more, I was an oddity. Sadly, I was used to it by then. I had heard every rude and derogatory comment possible; Mom and Dad had earned blood trophies from addressing it with originators even. But no matter what anyone said, did, or thought, I was happy being the illegitimate princess of the Lhaq'temish.
I was pulled from the little world inside my head I had drifted to when the air was knocked from me. A large, dark reddish-brown wolf smashed into me, causing our bodies to tangle as we rolled through the field of lavender. When we finally came to a rest, the air was filled with floating green and purple and I was on my back looking up at Yahto; his tongue hung from the side of his mouth in a crooked, toothy grin. I snorted, waving my white flag of surrender, and phased back into human form and he did likewise and quickly kissing me on the forehead before rolling off of me.
Nudity. I hated it. Unfortunately, being werewolves, that whole tearing of clothes when phasing thing left us naked when we phased back. I didn’t mind it when I was younger; a penis was a penis, and I really didn’t pay them much attention, and I always maintained eye contact with people. However, over the past twelve months, I grew boobs. Not just any boobs, but big boobs. And as all the guys had pointed out, they were very nice boobs.
Stupid boobs.
Yahto snorted, looking over at me. “I take it you gave up.”
“Yeah, I gave up,” I admitted, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them in a feeble attempt to hide as much as possible. But as usual, Yahto was completely oblivious to me being a woman and having a rockin’ bod, as his friends kept reminding him I had. “The lavender threw me off and I didn’t feel like playing anymore. I think it’s the week.”
“Oh yes, Jay, your birthday,” he said, sounding ridiculously like the Sensei from the Karate Kid. “Happy birthday in four days!” he laughed, and ripped out a handful of lavender and handed it to me. “Flowers?” he smirked, wagging his eyebrows at me.
“Gee, thanks.” I took the flowers and sat them down next to me, taking one to spin between my fingers. “Do I have to go to the party Friday?” I absently asked, watching the spinning flower.
“Yes,” he said and snorted, looking across the field to the thick woods just beyond their borders. “It’s your birthday, in essence. Plus, it gives them an excuse to gather the local packs to party. Think of it as a reason to get drunk without needing a reason.”
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of his statement; they thought I was nearing eighteen, but couldn’t be certain.
“That makes no sense,” I feebly argued. “I’m the local freak of the coastline. None of them want to celebrate my birthday. They only swarm the Res in order to point and laugh at me, drink and eat for free, and to screw around in their werewolf games to prove who has the bigger pecker. I’d rather stay in.”
Yahto laughed, throwing his long arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him. “You can’t hide away in your room like you always try to do, but I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered, and then looked around to make sure we were alone.
Dork.
“More than just the local tribes are coming,” he whispered ominously.
“Lovely, that isn’t a very good secret,” I pointed out.
“Some vampires will be there as well.” He smirked when I turned and looked at him with wide eyes. “Exactly!” he giggled. “The area has been free of vampires for more than three generations, but a small coven has asked permission to move into the area.”
“And you know this how?” I asked skeptically.
He shrugged with a mischievous smirk on his face. “Oh I don’t know, maybe a certain little werewolf was eavesdropping on pack business again.”
I snorted. “Little my ass,” I mumbled.
He ignored me. “The vamps feed on animals and donated blood. So that’s cool, it means they won’t cause an inflation in the crime rate, and the Alphas thought it’d be a show of goodwill towards our immortal cousins if we partied together.”
“Vampires?” I laughed but it was strained. “This just keeps getting better and better,” I groaned. “I seriously don’t want to do this.”
“You don’t have a choice, Jay,” he lovingly pointed out. “If you don’t show, your parents will be disappointed and it will make them look foolish. Suck it up and get over it. You’re going.” He kissed the side of my head before phasing back into a wolf and smiled at me with a toothy grin.
Yahto sat there looking at me, waiting for me to agree as I always did, his large light gray eyes moving over my face many times. He was silently telling me to get off my ass and join him because we were going to be late for school if I didn’t.
“Fine, whatever, privacy?” I groaned and he snorted but looked away. I phased and took off running with Yahto on my heels.
Vampires? What in the hell was my father thinking? I wondered.
A century ago, vampires and werewolves were immortal enemies. Our kinds fought until near extinction on both sides. Eventually they said screw it and threw in the towel, so-to-speak. Each side decided, and agreed, that the life loss was ridiculous, and that there was no reason why they couldn’t coexist peacefully. However, you’d be hard pressed to find werewolves and vampires in the same territory. The war may have ended but the memories were still very vivid in most immortals’ minds. Only time would tell if time was all that was needed to change their perspectives of each other.
Personally, I had never met a vampire. I had heard rumors and had seen many movies and read a bunch of books, but I had never actually met one before. Then again, it wasn’t anything that was on my list of things to do either. But unfortunately, I’d have no say in the matter.
By the time we had made it back to town, Yahto was bored so he kept knocking into me, trying to get me to play with him but I wasn’t in the mood. I sidestepped all of his advances and ducked when he jumped at me. The males may be bigger and stronger but the females were faster and more agile.
Werewolves were rare in comparison to vampires, I suppose; the lycanthropy virus was only hereditary. If you were born to werewolf parents, you would be a werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were once human and had to be bitten by a vampire in order to be turned into a vampire. They were lucky, in my opinion, because we were born with this curse.
Okay, it wasn’t a curse, but in my mind it was. I didn’t want to be like that. I wanted to be normal...whatever that was. I didn’t want to outlive friends and human family members. I didn’t want to have to hunt and consume fresh blood in order to survive. I didn’t want to be anything but normal and human.
However, normal was the farthest thing I could ever be.
“Hey kids,” Warner, one of the human members of the tribal council, greeted, and slammed the hood of his car shut. “Who won?”
I rolled my eyes and strolled towards home.
“She gave up,” Yahto complained, leaning against the car completely naked and oblivious to it. “She’s depressed because of her approaching birthday.”
“Oh,” Warner said with a chuckle. “Happy early birthday, Jay Dee!” he called out; he acted as if he didn’t know, but everyone knew.
For whatever reason, the Lhaq'temish loved birthdays, and any excuse to party was as good as any. I was the only birthday in August, how that happened, I didn’t know, so they tended to go all out: a last soirée of the summer, if you will. School started last Thursday, and all anyone had talked about all weekend was the impending party the following Friday. The humans we went to school with complained that they never got to go to our epic parties. But they might have gotten freaked out by all the werewolves, and now vampires. There were some humans who knew about us, both non-werewolf tribe members and extended family, but they were sworn to secrecy; there would be at least three hundred people flooding our tiny town Friday.
I sprinted when home came into view and quickly bound up the large maple tree in the front yard, swinging around one of the thick branches, and launched myself through the open bedroom window, phasing in the process. I landed with ironic catlike grace on the balls of my feet and headed to my bathroom to shower. The stench of lavender was killing me; I really didn’t like that particular smell. Yahto knew it, hence the reason the punk hid in it, but that was why I loved him. Yahto had his moments, who didn’t? But I wouldn’t have wanted him any other way. He was a pain in my ass but he loved me and was always there for me no matter what, and saved my life, delivering me to my parents. How could not love him after all of that?
The smell of bacon, waffles and hash browns floated up the stairs and down the hallway to my room. I hurried to finish tying my shoes. There was only one person who made fresh waffles in our house, and he hadn’t been home in months!
I ran down the hall and hopped over the railing, avoiding the stairs all together.
“Jarvis?” I called out, rounding the corner into the kitchen. “Bro?”
Mom and Dad were sitting at the table, each reading the paper, a plate of untouched food in front of them. The small smiles pulling at the corners of their mouths tipped me off that I was being ambushed. But before I could run, two strong arms wrapped around me from behind and lifted me up off of my feet.
“Surprise, Little Sister!” Jarvis sang loudly in my ear.
“Can’t breathe, Asswipe,” I choked.
Jarvis put me down and spun me around to face him.
God I missed him!
“Look at you! All grown up,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and hugged him tight.
When my parents adopted me, they gave me the greatest gift in the world: a big brother who I loved and was my best friend. He had been in Russia studying architecture for months and I missed him more than he’d ever know.
“You said you couldn’t get home until Christmas,” I said and smacked him in the back of the head for lying to me.
“Ow,” he complained, rubbing his head. “What kind of surprise would it be if I told you the truth? Hello, blonde moment,” he teased so I smacked him again. “Have you always been so abusive? I made waffles!” he beamed.
We ate as a family for the first time in months, and Jarvis rambled a mile a minute telling us about Russia and everything he’d seen. It was cute. I forgot how he turned into a kid with a new toy when he was excited. Jarvis had just turned twenty before he left to get his masters degree in architecture; he was able to get his Associates Degree out of the way while in high school through a running start program, and he breezed through college correspondence courses at the University of Washington for his Bachelors degree before focusing on a Masters earned abroad.
Needless to say, he was the pride of the Lhaq'temish; not many got off of the Res, and no one had a damn college degree, let alone, three of them!
Jarvis was the same as I remembered him; I don’t know why I thought he’d change, but when he was gone the months felt like years. He was smart, funny, caring, sarcastic, protective, beautiful, and was physically the opposite of me; dark bronze skin, cropped black hair, his bangs falling in his light amber eyes thanks to a European styled haircut—he was such a poser— tribal tattoos on his arms and chest, and a naturally muscular physique. We’re nearly the same height but he has me beat by an inch and fifty pounds. The approaching weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting. Every damn chick on the reservation that wasn’t married or in a relationship would be flirting with him. It irritated the living hell out of me. Luckily, he never showed interest in any of them, but it was still irritating and stomach turning to watch.
“You’re going to be late for school,” Mom scolded before laughing and looked at the clock. “Yup, totally late. At least you can blame it on your troublesome, bad influence, big brother,” she teased.
“Crap,” I groaned.
“Hey!” Jarvis whined. “Not cool, Mom.”
I smacked him. “Stop being a bitch.”
He stuck his tongue out at me.
“Bro, will you give me a ride?” I asked before shoving the rest of his waffle in my mouth.
Jarvis smacked me back for stealing his waffle and stood, chugging the rest of his orange juice. “Sure. I have to run into town anyway. Ready blonde-bomb?” he asked, grabbing a piece of bacon for the road.
We kissed our parents goodbye and headed for the door, stopping only to grab my bag.