34 Ch 34 Special Training (1/2)

I was going through life with a permanent smile on my face these days.

Winter had set in. Everyone had gone home during the holidays, spending vacation with their respective families.

Derrick had flown home to Maine, complaining because he wouldn't be able to bring back a suitcase full of seafood. I think he was getting tired of elk. I did laugh helplessly when two big  boxes full of frozen seafood arrived. We split the cost of a small chest freezer as a Christmas gift to each other. He was looking forward to a clam bake in the fire pit.

The wolves had long gone their separate ways. They stayed in contact. Arctic was now the proud father to a set of twins, one boy and one girl, the mother doing fine. Old Grey often came to visit dad. Our living room became his winter home when he wasn't out and about. Lobo ranged around, unable to not travel. Businessman had left us his card, and I had promised to come visit him in the spring.

Cherokee actually invited dad and I to come to their pow-wow come summer. Theirs was going to be the week after ours. I already put in to be off work and had asked Mahina to come along. Making summer plans with her just increased the intensity of our winter together.

My time with Mahina was divine. Our make-out sessions were an exercise in self control for me. I often took her to the club where I was surrounded by smells and a public atmosphere that kept me alert. The wolf did love to dance, so even the club was tough. I understood dad's warning now about a female in heat. No one could touch her during that human version of heat. I'd feel like one wrong move by someone and I'd practically go ballistic. Vigilance and caution became my mantra.

Lone Wolf checked in a few times every week at least, if not every day. He had my phone number now, and texted me short updates regularly. He told me it had been touch and go for the first few weeks. He stayed away though. I think that alpha had a tighter grip on him than he wanted to admit. Or maybe his continuing presence kept things in check.

Lone Wolf explained the set up there. Sheep's pack territory in the city was an apartment building. Apparently the whole top floor had once been occupied by the pack, until some sort of feud with another pack had them decimating each other. Their current alpha had confined everyone to one apartment that was designed like a safe room. Now they were occupying the top floor again, cleaning the place up.

Lone Wolf warned me that the alpha was unstable now. Brooding, waiting, was how he described him. The respect he was given now was merely to placate him and that alpha knew it. His fury was building, simmering below the surface, aimed at me.

I made Lone Wolf get Sheep a phone, and made sure he had both my number and my dad's. If things went wrong and he needed help, he at least had the option to contact me. I sent him friendly texts every few days, talking about regular stuff like the weather, what I had for dinner, and what I saw during my morning and evening runs.

Sheep never replied after the first time when he was learning how to text until I fussed. Then the only texts I got were test scores from the home schooling he was getting in preparation for his GED. At least that part was going well according to the reports I got. Sheep was way behind in schooling. His alpha had made sure he could read and add, not much else.

I never called him Sheep in my texts, allowing him some dignity in case someone else saw his phone.

It was work that was annoying me most these days. We'd go out on snowmobiles or trek on skis on occasion, watching for the odd campers and such. Something seemed off, but I couldn't place what. A few months of patrolling the same areas had me familiar with the local wildlife and the naturalists who came to record Yellowstone in action.

There were faint traces of odors I wasn't familiar with, odors that didn't belong in the woods and mountains I ranged. When I mentioned my general unease to my boss, he told me I had an overactive imagination. He even offered to move me about to different areas to relieve my winter doldrums, as he put it. No one reported anything amiss, he reassured me. I tried to put it out of my mind until I caught one of the smells at the gym during fight club night.

I tried to be subtle at first. At some point my frustration got the better of me. I stalked the odor through the crowd, getting Mac's attention. I narrowed down the smell, finally tapping one guy on his front pocket.

\”Hey, get lost creep,\” the guy said. Then he took a look at me and took a step back.

There was too much wolf looking out of my eyes for me to answer right away. I just pointed to his pocket. Mac didn't hesitate.

\”What's in your pocket?\” Mac demanded, practically yelling across the room. He marched over, shoving me off to the side to position himself in front of the guy. Everyone was looking, even the men in the ring had stopped fighting.

\”Ain't nothing, what's wrong with you.\”

I reached out one finger, put it right on the spot.

\”It stinks,\” I said roughly.

The guy laughed at me. \”Maybe I just need a shower.\”

The barest growl left me.

\”Turn your pocket out, or you don't fight,\” Mac said.

I could smell the guy's nervousness increase.

Under Mac's glare he reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out this really small plastic pouch.

\”It ain't nothing, really. I forgot I had it in there,\” the guy whined, trying to get out of trouble.

\”Out!\” Mac growled. \”You're banned. Don't come back.\”

\”Give me my fight money back then,\” the guy demanded.

\”Forfeited,\” Mac spat. \”Everyone knows to come here clean. Now out!\”

Everyone watched the guy leave. Once he was gone Mac addressed the room in general.

\”Spread the word, and whoever vouched for him needs to have a talk with him.\”

\”We will,\” said a guy with marine tattoos. \”We'll make it good Mac.\”

Mac nodded. \”Let's get back at it then.\”

The guy who spoke up wasn't going to let it drop. He motioned toward me asking, \”How did he know?\”

\”Hyperosmia,\” I said before Mac could start looking even more uncomfortable. \”It's an extremely acute sense of smell. Want me to tell you what you've eaten recently?\” I gave a little grin. \”Gives me a little advantage when fighting, which is one reason why I don't.\”

Mac said nothing, just looked at me with narrowed eyes. I gave him a little wry grin.

\”I wouldn't mind fighting with you,\” the marine said.

Mac grabbed my arm.

\”Can you hold it in?\” He asked quietly.

I nodded, my eyes lighting up with my eagerness to fight.

\”Go ahead then,\” he said louder, \”your spots been paid for by the forfeit. And this way that guy's friends here can assure him about how thoroughly he would lose if he ever thinks of coming back.\”