Chapter 1: The Girl Cub

Billy Black had always been a light sleeper.

From the time he was small, his father had taught him to rest his body with one eye always open, lest there were bloodsuckers in the woods. As a boy, Billy had always found the warning cute, even if he did know that magic whispered its way through their land, and had for years. But it had also been years since any Quileute had even seen a vampire. The treaty with the Olympic Coven had been set in stone by Emphraim Black, Billy's grandfather. And all tribal elders had honored it since. The wolves would not come on the bloodsuckers' lands, and the bloodsuckers would not trespass on theirs. And there could absolutely be no harm done to the pale faces - humans, others might call them.

But here on La Push, pale face was also shorthand for one thing - white people, specifically.

Billy Black had never been a racist. Nor his father, or his father before him. But each successive Black had known the white people's power, and respected it. There was no other option but to respect it. Hundreds of years earlier, when Washington had been a territory just submitted into the Union, the Great White Father (later known endearingly as the Feds), had approached their tribe with a treaty of a very different kind. It brought peace, like with the Olympic Coven, but now only part of the land remained theirs. The Quileutes would live on a reservation set up by the federal government - a community along the beaches christened as La Push - and there they would remain. It was still their land, to be sure, and the Quileutes loved it covetously. Though there could still be heard some grumblings from the proudest members of the tribe; Ray Lahote was by far the worst offender, nursing his bitterness and resentment towards the pale faces the way one might nurse a bottle of alcohol.

Not that that mattered - Ray Lahote was always drunk. It was nothing less than a miracle that he had never appeared to lay a hand on Paul, his three-year-old son.

And if that was a drunken Ray Lahote now pounding on his door at three AM, Billy thought darkly as he swung his legs out of bed and reached for his cane, he would throw back the deadbolt and then promptly stick said cane up the man's ass so far, his teeth would rattle.

Throwing back the deadbolt and turning the lock with a click, Billy prepared to do just that, but stopped short, his dark eyes blinking so that the lashes caught droplets of the driving rain.

Billy could see why the white folk were known as pale faces. Because standing before him was now the palest face he had ever seen. The face of his best friend.

Billy Black and Charlie Swan had known each other since they were children. Best friends with Harry Clearwater (a Council member of the Tribe), the three were inseparable. Billy had fond childhood memories of sitting in the kitchen with his pals while his mother baked them cookies. Charlie had risen through the ranks to become the Chief of Police, for the little town of nearby Forks, Washington. Fallen in love, married a girl by the name of Reneé Dwyer. The Tribe hadn't approved, but kept it to themselves. None of them had ever had a harsh word to say about Charlie Swan; Billy's mother had even tried to - with a cluck of her tongue and a twinkle in her eye - set Charlie up and play matchmaker, pairing him with a "nice Quileute girl." Then a baby could be one of theirs and know their ways. Charlie Swan had always felt like family to the tribe; wouldn't it be peachy to make it official?

Something else was peachy, all right, but it was only the skin of Charlie Swan's baby daughter. The girl had been born just three months earlier, Charlie bursting with pride and thrusting the bundle in everyone's faces, boasting about his child to any member of the Tribe who would listen. Isabella was an adorable thing, to be sure, and that would continue as she grew - there was no denying Reneé was a fine-looking woman. She just came off as... flighty, somehow. Whenever she came to visit. In a less enlightened time, someone would have mistaken her clipped thoughts as insanity and locked her up in an asylum somewhere. Billy's mother would describe it as "having a head in the clouds."

And for whatever reason that Charlie Swan was now on his front porch in the wee hours of the morning with Bella and sobbing, Billy suspected that head-in-the-clouds Reneé had something to do with it. "Charlie? What's happened?"

"She's left me," Charlie moaned, and if he'd had a flask in his hand, there was no doubt he would have taken a swig of it. "Can't stand to live here, she says. I know I've been taking on too many hours at the station, I get that, but couldn't she have at least stayed for her daughter?"

Oddly enough, Bella was still sleeping. Billy could see her swaddled up and dreaming away through what looked like bedclothes. He gave a jerk of his head. "Get her inside before you both catch your death of cold!" Charlie stumbled past him. Billy lingered behind, first looking to his left and then his right. He didn't want to wake up the whole damn reservation, but he didn't want to use the phone either. In this kind of situation, between choosing whether to face death at the hands of the whole Tribe or the hands of this one man, Billy would gladly take his chances with the Tribe.

"HARRY!" He boomed. His voice was like the winter wind, and loud enough to wake the dead. And maybe even the undead. But not the Council, he hoped. There was a time and a place for Billy to use his Alpha voice.

From the next house over, Harry Clearwater stumbled out onto the front porch, cursing and swearing and a bathrobe wrapped around his waist. A double-barreled shotgun was hinged open, balanced along his arm as he struggled to get the cartridges in. The porch light came on, followed by his wife, Sue, in her nightgown, looking all a-fright.

"William Black, Jr.!" Harry growled, abandoning the shotgun in favor of stomping none too gently over to his next-door neighbor. "You'd better damn well have a good explanation for this!"

Billy glowered. "Shut your muzzle and get in here. Our friend's in trouble!" He needn't elaborate. Harry paused, brown eyes widening.

"She didn't," he gaped. Billy could only nod grimly. Apparently so.

"He's inside."

Sue had a hand to her mouth. "That bitch!" she whispered fiercely. Only the men heard her.

Harry took the porch steps two at a time and was in the Black house in seconds. He found Charlie with his head upon the tabletop, head in his arms. Sarah Black bustled around him, preparing a mug of tea. When the kettle began to whistle, Billy got to it faster than she did, ignoring how it burned his hand in the process.

"You wanna wake up the twins?" he hissed. Rachel and Rebecca were sleeping in the next room. All the same, the adults' heads snapped as one to the little bundle on the tabletop. A soft cooing could be heard, then the sound fell off again. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Swinging one leg over, he sat across from his dear friend.

"I'd ask you if it wasn't true, but then you wouldn't be here, would you?" In answer, Charlie shook his head dumbly. "So, she's gone, then? Just like that? Did she leave a note?"

Another shake of the head. "She didn't have to. She yelled at me hoarse for thirty minutes before she peeled out."

Sarah gaped in horror. Sue darkly murmured That Bitch again. Harry ignored both of them, and let Charlie continue. "It was her income that allowed us to pay the mortgage on the house..." (Reneé had maintained consistent work as an art teacher at the Forks Elementary school). "I'll have to sell it, unless I can give myself another shift on the force. But where would we go?"

In the amber light, Sue's face was firm. "Here, of course."

Harry's jaw dropped. He loved Charlie like he loved a brother, but... a pale face living here? On the Rez? It had simply never been done. "Sweet Sue..."

"Don't 'Sweet Sue' me," his wife snapped, and she crossed over to Charlie, putting her arm around him. "Billy has the spare garage in the back; with a little work, you could make it a separate dwelling, all your own. You and the baby wouldn't be disturbed. Billy would do that; wouldn't you, Billy?"

Caught flat-footed by the plan, Billy nodded mutely. Sometimes, he wondered if Sue would have been more suited living on this Earth as a man - she gave orders like no one else, and those orders were usually obeyed as if the Council itself had rendered them. Fear, thy name is woman. It was unwise to ever cross Sue Clearwater - it just might be the last thing you ever do. She was always right. Even in the rare instance when she was wrong... she was right. And Billy didn't have a better idea. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the notion of this one.

"Come and join us, friend. You don't have to work yourself to death over the police force. And you'll have more savings from your income. The girls could watch the little one here... you could still go to work, Bella could go to school... Oh, Charlie, this way we can have our cake and eat it too!" Billy could see it now - fishing every morning, instead of once a week. The weekends, watching a Mariners game, while the twins and Bella played together at their feet. Billy and Charlie fit that type of best friend who couldn't stand to be apart. Now, with Charlie living here, they never would be.

Charlie's brow furrowed, turning the idea over in his mind. "I'd pay rent, of course..."

Sarah shook her head tightly. "Later. We'll talk about it later. For now, go sleep on the couch. You're staying here, Charles Swan, and that's the end of it."

Charlie smiled wanly. "Yes, ma'am." He staggered over to the weathered upholstery in the next room, and nearly keeled over dead. Sue followed after him to drape him with a nice, warm blanket. Sarah picked Bella up in her arms, ignoring Harry's worrisome glare.

"I still don't like it. The Council..."

"The Council can blow it out their ear," Sarah laid down the law flatly. Billy shook his head. His wife definitely hung out with Sue Clearwater too much. But they were pretty much the female version of himself and Charlie, so what could he do?

Besides... to Sarah, Bella was the perfect excuse to have another baby in the house. How could Billy deny her that?

Despite Sarah and Sue's firm convictions, the proposition of allowing the white Chief of Police and his baby daughter to live on La Push was a hard sell. Tekata, the Tribe's Chieftan, was particularly wary.

"They are not one of us," he voiced his concern for the second time. Billy cocked his head, pretending it was the first.

"Sir?"

"They're not Quileute."

Sarah came forward, putting a protective arm around both her husband and the Swans. "How much English did you speak when the Great White Father came here? Charlie is an honorary Quileute." This, despite the fact that the the Quileutes had not performed an adoption ceremony in years. Supposedly, the stipulation was that only those of non-Quileute blood who were most worthy could be adopted by the Tribe. Whatever the fuck that meant. And only the Council could make that call. Perhaps Billy could call for a motion to adopt, and get it over with.

He didn't know how successful it would be though, with Ray Lahote on the Council and standing in his way. The drunk brooded darkly, looking Charlie up and down and noting Bella in his arms. His expression - as a reflection of his attitudes - was very clear. It was the face of someone who often weakly used the line, 'I'm not racist, BUT...', while disguising it as loyalty to their own tribe."They are pale faces. No pale faces live here. And those who ever did were mothers who left."

Billy pounced. "Oh, like how Loretta left you?" The entire meeting hall stiffened as Ray glowered. Billy gave it right back to him, before Ray turned his attention back to the Swans, specifically Bella.

"Now: about the girl... what is to become of her as she grows?"

Charlie cleared his throat, his face mustachioed but quivering. "Billy and I thought that... well, she could go to the Reservation school..."

"Absolutely not!" a Council member shot down to Ray and Billy's right. A chorus of indignant voices went up, which Tekata quickly quelled. He too was studying the Swans, but no longer out of mistrust (like Ray) but rather... fascination.

"Great White Father's Holy Book says these souls are strangers in a strange land. In our language and laws, we are bound to not turn them away, or may our flesh be eaten by wolves."

"Amen!" the Council intoned like it was a reflex, before spitting reverently on the ground. Tekata ignored them, stroking his chin curiously, his gaze remaining on Bella. "A strange, strange exception, this tiny turtle dove is..." he murmured quietly. He sat back in his chair finally. "Very well. Let the turtle dove remain here, to live on our land and schooled by our teachers." There was an instant uproar, led by Ray Lahote, but Tekata again ignored them. "I am the Morning and the Evening Wolf..."

"But, sir..." Ray began.

"I waive all writing that may forbid we harbor them here, and let it be known that this White Swan and his little turtle dove are to be our brother and our sister."

Ray's jaw dropped. "You wish to perform... an adoption ceremony?" There was a quiet murmuring, warring between assent and dissent.

Tekata leaned back again. He was smiling serenely, the expression almost silly, as if he had taken one too many hits from a bong. At any rate, Billy thought he looked and sounded like Jedi Grandmaster Yoda on weed. "No. Not yet. In time, perhaps. The little turtle dove, this... Bella... she will prove herself worthy. I will watch her closely." He cleared his throat; the business side of him was suddenly back. "Council adjourned."