Embers - 2. Embers 2

“G’day, Brandon. Welcome to Oz. It’s nice to meet you.” The tall, dark-haired, muscular man extended his hand. The brilliant smile put the traveler at ease, and his friendly nature sealed the deal. “I’m Brody Sampson, Alpha of Spirit Walkers Pack.”

The dumbfounded look on the American’s face had the man laughing.

“Umm. Thank you for meeting me, Alpha Sampson. I thought Alpha Kinkaid or one of his people, were supposed to be picking me up.”

“Jim’s handling an evacuation in his territory. Things haven’t gotten any better while you were in the air. A lot of my people are doing work associated with the fires so, since we live in Sydney, I offered to come get you.” Brody waved his hand to a slightly shorter version of himself standing beside him. The padlocked collar piqued Brandon’s curiosity. “This is my husband, Thorin. He operates as my chief of staff and general manager to our clubs.”

“Oh, come on now. I know we’re a little more informal than the European or American Councils, but since he’s an honored guest, you’ve got to use your full title.” The alpha’s mate giggled.

“Thorin! I didn’t want to scare him.” An expectantly raised eyebrow from the American meant the topic would not just go away. With a heavy sigh Brody continued. “I’m also prime alpha of all lunaris in Australia. There, are you happy?” He glared at Thorin.

“Yep, I am for the most part. You still need to work on the delivery. Maybe if we get some trumpeters to play a fanfare, it will fix what’s missing. Now where’d I leave my tiara? Damn, I can never find it when I do get you to say your office.”

“It still doesn’t make you the Queen of Australia, my dear.”

Brandon’s body shook slightly as he tried to hold in the fit of chuckles threatening to overtake him. He dipped his head respectfully to both men as he finally shook the alpha’s hand. “I’m honored the highest leader in the country would take the time to pick me up from the airport.”

“Oh, enough of that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I just had to tease my hubby.” Thorin elbowed his mate. “Besides, he’s technically the second highest.”

“But he’s prime alpha. What could be over that?” The American was totally confused.

“I’m equal to the top leader of the solaris here, but we’ve got one position that covers all lycan, both lunar and solar for the Aussies and Kiwi.”

Brandon nodded, not completely understanding. “Are there any more firefighters coming today? I didn’t know if I was the only one on the flight or if others were here to help.”

“You’re it for the furry contingent today as far as I know. The humans can deal with their own. I’m sure there’ll be more from the USA once our government requests their assistance.” Brody did not look too convinced. “There are humans flying in from Indonesia and Asia to help, even a few Kiwis. They’re tired of us turning their glaciers brown. And I know a few American’s have recently arrived. I’m sure there are lycan in some of those groups I haven’t been notified about.”

Thorin glanced at his phone. “We should get on the road. Brandon needs to be at his orientation briefing in an hour. Fuckers are cutting it a little close, knowing someone was flying in this morning. Mason will have his assignment waiting.”

“Yes, Oh Exalted One.” Brody bowed deeply before leaning down to Brandon’s ear. He spoke loud enough his mate had no issue hearing. “Never hire your husband to manage your time. God, he’s a slave driver.”

“I heard that, Mate-of-Mine. Get your furry arse moving.”

The American coughed a few times to hide his laughter. Smoke in the air gave cover.

Brandon followed the alpha pair as they made their way to the parking garage, and Thorin opened the back of a Holden SUV. Brody maneuvered them out of the airport and into city traffic.

“You’re going to take the tunnel, aren’t you? You know it’ll be busy.” Thorin leaned against the center armrest, staring expectantly at Brody.

“Of course I’m taking the tunnel. And yes, I realize the M5’s always packed. Would you rather weave through surface streets until we can pick up the A22?”

“Just sayin’.”

Brandon bit his lip so not to snigger in the back seat.

Once they had entered the darkness of the tunnel, Thorin giggled. “Oh look. Brake lights.” He turned to face their passenger. “Do you have a mate? I think I can pick up a blended scent, but it seems really faint. Oh, and you need to get used to everyone using the term mate for absofuckinlutely everything.”

“Yeah. After knowing each other for a while, we imprinted last year. We legally got married six months ago. The scent’s faint, because we haven’t seen each other in a couple months. He’s deployed with the military.”

“Congratulations. Got you a cute soldier boy.” Brody glanced at the mirror.

“Nope. He’s a Marine.”

“Even better. They look sexy in that uniform.”

“Especially if they’re just in the tunic.” Thorin waggled his eyebrows.

“I have to ask...” As soon as Brandon uttered those words he wished he had not committed himself. “You don’t have an Aussie accent. You sound almost American.”

Thorin laughed at the assessment. “I’m Canadian. Was a west coaster like you. Still miss the forests in British Columbia. I met this big lug after the dustup at the North American Congress a couple years ago. My alpha at the time took me as part of his delegation to the wedding of Ethan Tucker and Aiden Jacobs. I’m guessing you’ve heard of them.”

Brandon rolled his eyes at the mention of the American elite. “Yeah, I have. My alpha went to that and said it was unreal with all the people.”

“Anyways, Brody was there as part of the Australian group, before he took over as leader of the lunar lycan in the country. We caught each other’s scent and realized we’d discovered our mate.” He looked lovingly at his husband. “The grooms found out and did a toast for us. They’re great guys, and we got to spend time with them when they visited here on their honeymoon tour. They’ve become good friends, even living so far away. I moved from Canada to be with Brody.”

“And my life’s been a bloody wreck ever since.” Brody coughed. “I mean it’s been paradise, my love.”

“I see headlines for them in the lycan news all the time. I usually ignore them, along with the other celebrity articles. Too far above my pay grade, but I never expected to meet, let alone be driven by someone of your level either.” Brandon fell silent for a few moments. “Since you guys use mate as buddy and everything else, does a wolf couple call each other mates?” He was truly puzzled. “Or is there some other term you use here?”

“It’s still mate for the most part. A lot of guys used partner until marriage became legal here. It gets confusing, but you’ll catch on.” Thorin grinned and theatrically sniffed his husband. “If all else fails, use your nose to figure out which type of mate someone means.”

“So that stuff about knowing your true mate by smell isn’t just bedtime story stuff?”

“It’s real. But I guess… That’s like lycan 101 stuff.” Thorin was not sure how to respond. “Maybe some packs don’t teach it like others do. So it wasn’t like that for you?”

“We kinda met online. I wasn’t interested in seeing him again, but he was persistent about wanting to go out. Eventually he wore me down and I imprinted on him.” Brandon grinned at the happy memory. “I can’t imagine not having him, but there was no scent or anything that told me he was the one.”

“The only thing of consequence is you’re together. Even though we knew we belonged together, falling in love still took time. Like it did for you and your Marine.” Brody turned the vehicle into the parking garage under a building and found an available spot. “Here we are. That was Olympic Park we just passed through.”

“You need to work on your tour guide skills. Would be more helpful to tell him what we’re driving by before we get underground.”

“Perhaps you should point out the sights instead of interrogating him about his mating status. That way I can concentrate on not getting into a wreck with the idiot drivers.”

“Umm… Maybe I don’t need to be present for an alpha level domestic discussion.” Brandon pulled his gear out of the back of the SUV. “Who’s giving the briefing?”

“The New South Wales Rural Fire Service Brigade Commander. If the title wasn’t massive enough, the big ol’ soli who holds the position is.” Brody noticed the American cocked his head. “He’s a solaris lion.” That description only increased the puzzled expression he received. “The BC isn’t a lunaris like us. His type of lycan follows the solar cycle instead. Nice guy though.”

“I can never tell if Brody calls him BC for Brigade Commander or Big Cat.” Thorin was giggling again. “Oops, sorry. Don’t mind me.”

“Oh, I’ve never met any of them before. I don’t have much experience outside my current pack. At least not pleasant experiences.” He looked at the floor. “They’ve been real good to me, but there’s still so much I don’t know about our kind.”

“You’re alpha’s a great guy from what I understand.” Brody rested his paw on the American’s shoulder. “Jim Kinkaid speaks highly of him. They both have a passion for horses. I prefer the rumble of a motorbike. I was grateful when they got together to search for any able-bodied firefighters willing to come over.”

Brandon followed the alpha pair into the elevator, eventually entering a large meeting room where perhaps sixty people milled around. A mildly disinterested woman, sitting at a table, looked over the rim of her glasses before pushing them back into place. “Name please? And state or country of origin.”

“Brandon Holstrom. United States.”

“Read over these and sign where indicated. Make sure you bring them back by the end of the meeting.”

“I’ll give you a hand, Brandon.” Thorin stepped up beside him. “I’ve already gone through them and can explain what they want you to sign. It’s mostly liability releases and what you get paid, if anything.” He glanced at the woman. “Cruel to give all this to someone who just got off a flight from the States.”

“Procedure, sweetie. Next.”

Brandon rifled through the papers on the clipboard, as Thorin guided him back over to Brody and a huge blond man.

“Mason Farnsworth, I’d like you to meet Brandon Holstrom. He’s the wolf who flew in this morning from the States.” Brody made the introductions. “Brandon, he’ll see that you’re taken care of. Mason’s protective of everyone under his command. No life wasted at the expense of property.”

The massive blond man sized up the small wolf. “Right. Got a group from your country that arrived yesterday, twelve humans. The Kiwis and Indos make up the bulk of who’s here. We’ll be putting the lot of you to work fast. Alpha, the two over there are feline. Here’s their information. They apologized for not getting council authorization before arriving.” A mischievous smile crossed the man’s face as he elbowed Brody. “You sure this Yank can do the work? Seems kinda small. Guessing he was the runt of the liter.”

A low, deep growl emanated from Brandon. He lifted the approximately 275 pound man off the floor with ease, fireman-carried him across the room, and unceremoniously dropped him in a chair beside the lead table. “Don’t you have a meeting to start?” As an afterthought he added, “Sir?”

The lion roared with laughter. “You’re hired.”

One of the humans from the States shouted in surprise. “Holy shit. Can we have him on our crew?”

As a sign of respect, Mason dipped his head to the young man. “I apologize for making a joke about your size. It was meant to be funny and help you relax. I could smell how tense you are. I fucked up, and I’m very sorry.”

“No big deal. I gotta carry a lot of gear to do the job. You just made sure I really could.”

“I know exactly which crew I’m putting you on now. It’s exclusively lycan. Several wolf packs got together to form it. They’re all Aussie, but I think you’ll work well with them and they’re down by a man. I was gonna put one of the cats with them, but you’ll be a better fit.”

“If the guys were hoping for extra pussy on the crew,” Thorin laughed at the glare his husband cast at him, “I could have recommended a few boys.”

“Thorin! My husband never managed to learn how to filter what he says. My apologies.”

“Hey, I got them smiling, so my work is done.”

“And moving on.” Mason cleared his throat before proceeding. “I figure a lupus will be a better choice for a group of wolves.”

Brandon bit his lip and tried to hide any anxiety at being stuck with unfamiliar shifters. “Point me to the fire, sir. I’m ready to get started.”

The meeting was soon underway, and Mason went through what needed to be covered, followed by crew assignments. He reiterated several times the foreign firefighters were under the command of their Australian team members.

At the conclusion of the briefing, Mason waved over a man standing at the side. He appeared to be in his early thirties with dark hair and a good amount of muscle. “Brandon, I’d like you to meet Lucas Thompson. You’ll be working on his crew. Like I said over and over, you foreigners got here at just the right time. With you covering less critical areas for the moment, it frees up our people for the hell storm building on the south coast. We need every person we can get down there to fight the fires. Fuckin’ nightmare having this happen, while everyone’s at the beach for Chrissie. Just hope they heed the evacuation warnings.”

“Chrissie? Is there a phone app so I can understand you people?” Brandon’s eyes traveled between the men.

Thorin giggled. “Christmas, sweetie. You’ll catch on to Aussie-speak soon enough or pull your hair out trying.”

Brandon nodded and spoke to Mason. “Sir, I worked through several firestorms in Southern and Northern California. If you need more help where you just said…”

“I reviewed your record while you were in-flight. I don’t doubt we could use you down there. Victoria’s having a hell of a time like we are. But you literally just got off a fifteen hour flight, and out of an abundance of caution, I’m putting you in another area we badly need bodies in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“One last thing. While you’re taking orders from our people, if you know a better way to do something, speak up. Some of the work will be with bush trucks and some will be hiking in with picks, shovels, and chainsaws. I know you American’s have your way of doing things, and you’ve worked bigger fires than a lot of our guys.”

“So just like the other ones I’ve been assigned to. A lot of hand work.” Brandon watched Mason wander off to introduce others to their team and craned his neck to look up at the man he had been assigned to.

“G’day, Brandon. It’s good to meet you. Most people just call me Luc. Let’s hit the road. It’s about a two hour drive north.”

“Brandon, is there any gear you don’t want to carry with you the entire time?” Brody had moved in without the American noticing. “We can store anything at our place until you come off the fire line.”

“Umm, yeah. I guess, Alpha. That bag has extra civies I won’t need until I’m done. Kind of hoping I’ll get a few days to sightsee before I leave. Maybe you can point me to a cheap surf shop I can rent a board from?” He moved what he needed between the bags and handed off the one they had offered to store. “That’s everything. Thank you for your help, Alpha Sampson and Thorin. And for picking me up at the airport.”

“As a matter of fact, we know just the place you can get a board.” Thorin smiled mischievously. “I saw that wetsuit you were trying to keep hidden. You’re gonna have to model that at one of our clubs. It’s on the beach and has a surf shop tied to it.”

“Down, boy. Stop hitting on the married firemen in front of me. Brandon, stay safe. We’ll see you soon I hope. Accommodations will be ready for you in Sydney when things improve, or if you hit the mandatory limit. I’d say Merry Christmas, but somehow it seems lost on the situation.”

“Thank you, Alpha.” Brandon held out his hand to the lycan leader.

“Lucas, it’s good seeing you again. Been a while. Take good care of him and look after yourself.”

“I will, Alpha.”

******

Lucas led the way to the parking garage and pointed to his ride. The car/pickup hybrid fascinated Brandon. “Cool car. It’s like a new version of the old Chevy El Caminos from back home.”

That brought a chuckle from the Aussie. “It’s a Ute, mate. A Holden Maloo.” He lifted the bed cover for the American to deposit his gear.

“If we’re going north, are we crossing the Harbour Bridge?”

“Sorry, mate. That’s way too far out of the way.”

The Ute rumbled to life with a deep, throaty exhaust. Lucas revved it a few times in the underground parking. “I fuckin’ love that sound.”

The pair took the Ryde Bridge, crossing the Parramatta River, heading north on the A3 en route to the M1. Brandon wanted to watch the scenery through the smoke, but the drone of the tires and fatigue from the flight quickly had him dozing.

A gentle shaking brought Brandon out of his slumber, and he looked around.

“Welcome to Hunter Valley.” Lucas handed his companion a respirator that matched the mask he wore. “You can’t breathe around here without one. And put on these goggles. It doesn’t block all the smoke, but your eyes will thank you later.”

A thick, brown haze surrounded the vehicle. Brandon knew it was late afternoon, but it looked more like dusk, with the only light coming from an eerily orange ball in the sky. Visibility was down to about thirty feet.

“I’ve had to wear this stuff during fires back home too. I have a few in my bags. Where are we?”

“The town of Pokolbin. Believe it or not, we’re surrounded by wineries and vineyards. This is the famed Liston Winery, but you’ve probably never heard of it. Since everything in the area’s closed, the family and the surrounding wineries have been helping to feed us.”

“Lycan or human?”

“They’re human. Wonderful people and they make bloody good wine.”

“I take it you’re from around here?”

“The suburbs of Newcastle, so just down the road. One of our young wolves was sweet on their daughter. There’s never been a more joyful soul to walk this valley according to anyone who met the girl. She ended up fighting cancer twice. The pup came out and offered to turn her in hopes it would cure her. He’d shift and lie beside her as she’d pet him, trying to do anything to ease her pain.” Even through the smoke and goggles, the man’s sadness showed she did not make it. “Anyways, because of her, we try to watch over the family. I’m pretty sure old man Jack knows what we are but to him, as long as you’re not an arse and you buy his wine, he doesn’t care. And he’s happy with firemen all around making sure this place doesn’t burn up.”

Brandon decided it was time to change the subject. “How far away are the fires and how many guys are here?

“We’ve got about a hundred guys at each of our three staging areas around here. One of the fires is about seven kilometers away, but there are twelve of them burning in the area.” He moved to get out of the Ute. “You can leave your gear in the back if you want. I’ll take you to the local brigade commander and then our crew chief.”

“It’s okay. I’ll keep my stuff with me. Old habits not to leave things behind.”

“You don’t look old enough to have old habits. Grab your packs then. It’s this way, I think. Can’t tell where anything is in this smoke.”

“I’m twenty-seven. I know people think I’m younger because of my size.”

“Well, I’m thirty-two, but if you ask my husband he thinks I’m going on twelve.” Lucas stopped for a moment. “Yeah, I’m a poofter. Hope that isn’t a problem.”

“Why would it be a problem? My mate occasionally gets brave enough to call me a cocksucker instead of Sir, but I’m usually going down on him when he does.”

“Damn. You little guys always end up being the hottest Doms. You’re gonna work out fine here.” He locked up the Maloo. “Hope I get to introduce you to my husband when he and my brother come to take this home tonight.”

******

Brandon followed Lucas to where they would be sleeping and set his pack beside the provided bedroll. There were several men from their twenties to possibly early fifties, badly singing off key.

“We wish you a ripper Christmas.
A full-bore ripper Christmas.
A Dead set ripper Christmas.
And a snappy New Year.

May the kids have a hoot.
May the prezzies be beaut.
From the big-bellied fella.
In the red and white suit.
A full-bore ripper Christmas.”

Beer cans crashed together as the men laughed and cheered.

“Welcome back, Lucas. Happy Chrissie. You’re just in time for a stubby. And I see you brought us a prezzie.” A gruff looking man chuckled.

“This here’s the new guy. Brandon, these are the Mutts.” There were a few growls at Lucas’ introduction, but it was good natured. “He flew in from the U.S. to help us out.”

“Guess a Seppo’s better than nothin’.”

One by one, eighteen men approached and shook his hand. “Good to have you here, mate.”

“Yeah, that’s right. We’re all mutts here. Well except for the big ol’ pussy over there.” The guy laughed as he pointed to one of the men.

“Keep it up, furball, and I’ll use your nuts to bat around. Or decide you want me to turn you into my pussyboi.” He held his hand out. “G’day, mate. I’m Noah, the token feline here. And before you ask, I’m a cougar.”

“You picked a good day to arrive. We started our break today. I’m Jaxon.”

“What’s the duration on the line?” Brandon watched the men.

“With how bad it is, we’re at three on, one off. When we’re lucky, we manage two days off like we have now. The day usually runs between twelve and sixteen hours. Sometimes a little longer.” The man sized up the new guy. “I’m Joe Nevins, the crew chief.” He extended his hand and the raised eyebrows said he was impressed with the grip. “What do you say, mates? Think this little pup from the States can do the job with a bunch of tradies?”

“This is the third time today my size came up. I thought you guys wanted help putting these fires out.” Brandon picked up his backpack. “I don’t mind heading home and going back to surfing if I’m not needed.” The respirator hid the upward curl to his mouth, but the wink tipped off his playfulness, even though he was tired.

“I’d watch it, Joe.” Lucas kept an eye on Brandon. “That big ol’ soli in charge down in Sydney said about the same thing. This pup, as you called him, lifted the guy, took him across the room, and dumped him in his chair asking when the meeting was gonna start.”

The men barked their enjoyment.

“Well, I guess we got us a keeper.” The man stuck his hand out to Brandon. “Welcome to the Mutts.”

******

Brandon watched the men for a while, listening to them talk. “So what’s a tradie and what’s a Seppo?”

“Seppo’s kinda our name for Americans. Started out as a cross between Yank and septic tank, but I could never figure out how. A lot of your countrymen are full of shit when they came over. You’ll know by the tone someone says it, if you’re being insulted or not. A tradie is what we call guys who work the trades. I’m a mechanic, Lachlan over there and Noah are in construction. Oliver’s a plumber. Most of us work in one trade or another when we’re not volunteering to fight fires.”

“You’re Jaxon, right?”

“Yep, you got it.”

“Jax is a top notch spanner monkey.” Joe’s praise surprised some of the men. “We’re lucky to have him. Our trucks stay in better shape than a lot of others around here.”

“I’ve heard spanner before. Guessing that would be a wrench monkey in the U.S.?” The nodding heads confirmed his suspicion.

“You a full-time firefighter or a volunteer like all of us?”

Brandon turned to the new voice. “You said your name was Thomas, didn’t you? I’m a reservist. Means I’m not a full-time fireman, but can get called up to work anytime they need me.”

“Not bad at remembering names there, mate. What type of work are you in? Probably something in an office. Isn’t that was all you American’s do?” His laughter made clear he was teasing the new guy. “No one does real work there or understand hard yakka.”

“I’m a horse trainer. Fancy name for someone who feeds, exercises, and cleans up after them.”

“Good. We got another tradie to fill the empty space.”

“So how come you guys are down a man? What happened to the guy I’m replacing?”

The expressions on the men’s faces changed from joyful to somber. Brandon feared he may have asked the wrong thing.

“It was bad. All the guys are torn up over it.” Joe let that hang in the air as he pulled his face mask down and reached for a beer. “They somehow placed a human with us. The guy was terrified anytime he was around the crew.” The men started cracking up again. “The sodder knew something was different, but not what. Big strapping lad, and he couldn’t handle being around more than two of us at once without shaking like a bride on her wedding night.”

“Don’t leave out the best part, Joe.” Brandon looked to a guy leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah. I was getting there. Guy was married with kids, but as soon as he’d get close to any of us, you could smell the arousal pouring off him. Even with all this damn smoke. You’d think the fucker was in heat.”

“Woulda been fine if he actually put out.” Brandon wasn’t sure he remembered the name of the man talking, but thought it was Oliver. “I mean, a hole’s a hole when we’re out on a job like this and most wolves will root anything.”

Joe shook his head. “Like I said, it was bad. Him getting us all horned up and not following through even though he obviously wanted it. If he hadn’t slipped and broken his leg, we’d have had to replace him before the guy ended up getting raped. One of our wolves would have got fed up waiting for permission and taken what his scent said he was offering.”

“Bet that woulda gone over well. One of us turning furry and mounting his arse.” Oliver chuckled. “Maybe he woulda been into it.”

Brandon visibly shook.

“You okay?” Lucas rested a hand on the American’s shoulder. Even with the dense smoke, he picked up a brief, intense whiff of anger flowing off the guy.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Just a bad memory. Sorry. I think the jet lag’s catching up with me.” He turned to the rest of the guys. “I’m gonna lie down for an hour or so.”

“I’ll make sure you’re up before we eat.”

“Thanks, Lucas.” Brandon wandered to his bedroll. Even feeling tired, sleep was not going to be easy. He laid down and threw his arm over his eyes.

The Liston Winery and Liston Family are the intellectual property of Carlos Hazday from his CJ series and are used with his gracious permission. If you haven't read them yet, you really should.