The Mythical Creature's Guide to Modern Warfare
Operation Delta, or How Jacob Black Made It Through the Worst Day of His Life
"In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun. Oh dear, you look so lost,
eyes are red and tears are shed, this world you must've crossed. You said 'You don't know me,
you don't even care. You don't know me, you don't wear my chains' ..."
Part One, I am the Alpha...
I hate Thursdays. I've never quite understood them. I mean, there's a part of them that's all "Oooh, look at me! I'm Thursday! I'm almost Friday! Aren't I so hip?" which works out well on three-day weekends, but there's also the annoying part that says, "Ha! Ha ha ha! I am Thursday! Let the tedium of Wednesday spill over! Make the clocks run backwards! You will never get to tomorrow! Mah ha ha ha!"
This particular Thursday was especially evil, 'cause we were having a test on Beowulf, which I personally would have found more exciting if Beowulf actually turned into a wolf, the thing was in actual English, and I'd had time to read more than the first three pages before giving up, disgusted, and going on patrol with Embry. Add that to the fact that I had to find some time to do my Math homework (and I couldn't just copy off Seth's like I do for Chem, 'cause apparently they don't want just the answers, whatever that means) before Ms. Oles actually makes good on her threats to throw me in detention for not doing it. Last time Mr. Mora had detention duty and he "looked away" when I snuck out the window, but I doubt I'll be so lucky this time.
I bet Ephraim Black never had this trouble when the Cullens were here the first time around. About stupid English tests that make up one fourth of twenty-five percent of our grade and detention, I mean. Personally, I think it's highly unfair. As Alpha of a pack of soon-to-be ten werewolves, I should get an honorary diploma or something, or, at the very least, not be penalized for, oh, having to protect Forks and La Push from an incoming wave of really old, really unfriendly, really ugly Italians. I'd've dropped out ages ago if Leah hadn't insisted I graduate. Don't know why; it's not like any job we'll ever be able to hold with our wolf schedules would actually a diploma. Or a better grasp of the English language than, "Do you want fries with that?"
But what Leah wants, Leah gets, one way or another, and since I'm quite fond of my dangly bits, I go.
I should've known the day would go badly when Leah's phone rang and, groaning, she quickly pressed talk. "Why?" she asked. "That's all I want to know, why. Of all the annoying songs in the world, with access to a million ringtones at the touch of a button, did you put that song as a ringtone? I'm not even going to ask how you manage to keep on changing them, but why the hell the Titanic song?"
Kate, who'd called, replied loud enough for me to hear that it was called "My Heart Will Go On" and that it was the song of a beautiful love story before Leah (my wife; it gave me all sorts of thrills to think of her that way, some of them the more possessive ones she didn't like, but most of them ones that made me think all too girlishly that we'd be together until we were both old and wrinkled, like our parents would've been if it weren't for Mom's car crash or Harry's heart attack. I don't know why I like this idea so much. But I'd do near anything to spend the rest my life with Leah Clearwater, however long that might end up being) interrupted, "If this means you want me to watch Titanic with you, I refuse."
I yawned and adjusted my hold on Leah's hip, only catching the end protestation, "...tenth anniversary collector's edition," and trying to fall back asleep. I'd been having a very nice dream and was looking to get back to it. It'd involved lots and lots of food.
"I'm not watching Titanic with you at six in the- fine, five-fifty-eight in the morning. I'm not- what? The Matrix? Hmm... will there be popcorn? Well even you can't burn popcorn too badly, there's a button on the microwave for it- Well, ask Esme then." Leah rolled her eyes at me but, still talking to Kate, pulled herself off the ground and started dressing. "This is what you vampires do? You live for a thousand years and you want to sit at home and watch movies? I mean- What do you mean Siobhan and Maggie haven't seen The Matrix before? That's just... Do they live in a hole or something? I- Really? Now you're just being hurtful."
I watched as Leah went to the low trunk at the back of the lean-to and pull out a dress like all the rest she owned, strapless and falling inches above her knees, and dressed. They guy in me couldn't help but help but notice every time she did that long ago she'd given up on underwear of any sort, and the wonderful view of her long – luscious, luxurious, lovely, whatever other alterations I can make – legs this gave me. Turning, she saw me watching and stuck her tongue out at me before dropping a hand back into the trunk and throwing clothes at me.
"I'll be there in a little bit, Kate. I've got to wake the munchkins up and see they've actually done their home- Just because they didn't have schools in your time doesn't mean they're not important. Emmett only says that because he's been through high school like five- okay seven times. Whatever. We can watch Keanu Reeves and his god complex in action after- Hanuman? Never heard- They have him playing Rama now too? Buddha in Little Buddha, a messiah in the Matrices, and now a Hindu god? When-? Not out yet? Why do you even know so much about Keanu Reeves anyway? Did you-?" The phone clattered down in disgust. Turning to me, "I think Kate's going to tell me about all the movie stars she's fucked now."
That was a scary thought. "Munchkins are we now?"
"Not you, le duh," she said, kissing me gently before I took her head in my hands and tried to deepen it. I'm eighteen, Leah's drop dead gorgeous in the best way imaginable, and her take-charge, don't-give-a-shit attitude is quite sexy, if I do say so myself. Which I do. Which, all things considered, means that I love her, want her around me all the fucking time, and makes it hard to concentrate on things like school or patrolling. According to the guys, I'm only slightly less than annoying about it than Quil is over Claire, even then only by virtue that Leah isn't three.
She pulled away, reluctantly, and said fairly softly, "Not with the conga-line going on inside me. I feel like I'm about to keel over and die in some convenient corner."
"That's not good," I told her, concerned. "I still say you're doing too much, especially since the twins seem to be growing at double the normal rate. Lay back down, go back to sleep; I'll wake the pups up."
Leah snorted. "That one isn't going to work on me again. I know you've an English test today."
I honestly hadn't even been thinking about that, but, as I've said, what Leah wants, Leah gets, and hormonal Leah is almost worse about it. As I dressed, I heard her walking through the sleeping bodies on the other side of our curtain, going through the normal routine of trying to wake sleeping wolves. And after this she'd go to the manor and have to deal with twenty-odd leeches by herself until we came back. And then she'd run in the afternoon with the pups, and the cycle'd continue again. She'd not rest unless her body absolutely demanded it, and trying to force her into it would only make her more stubborn about not. "Maybe you should just let sleeping werewolves lie."
"They can sleep all they want," she told me, "when they're done with school. Now stop being a bad example and help me."
I rolled my eyes, and went to help my wife.
...and the Omega.