Sharkbait Down Under
Sydney

Sydney, Australia

1811

I watched the ship disappear over the horizon, taking the last of the family I’d worked for and protected for almost a decade out to sea. Neil Baillieu was a shrewd businessman, and he’d made a killing providing sheep for the burgeoning city. His political contacts with the Governor and the Military helped cement his fortune; his eldest daughter, Laura, married a Commander in the Royal Navy, an assistant to the Governor of Sydney. She and her husband returned to England two years ago.

Emma had grown into a beautiful young lady, and Neil had political aspirations in England. Selling his land and herds, he’d booked passage on a ship bound for London.

The family had given me a job and a place to lay my head, but my background made me wholly unsuitable as a suitor for Laura. When she was near marriage age, I approached Neil to request his permission to court his eldest. “You are a good man, Philip, but you will never have my blessing,” he said as he put his hand on my shoulder. “My daughters are going to marry men of wealth and station. You have neither, and you never will.”

“Your daughter cares for me,” I said.

“She will get over that,” he said. A year later, she was engaged.

After that conversation, I found my job assignments changed. No longer was I working out of their home in Sydney; instead, I was spending months at a time in the farther-out pasture holdings with the sheep. I built a small cottage on one of the plots, turning it into a cozy little home.

In gratitude for saving his daughters, Neil left me the small farm I’d lived on while tending his flocks. I held the title to forty acres of pasture land at the edge of the Sydney settlement in my hand as I walked back up from the docks.

I needed to get back home.

I needed my family.

1806, Sydney

Katherine Logan was a stubborn and proud woman, and that wasn't a good combination in prison. It didn’t help that men outnumbered women seven to one in the Colony. She had arrived in 1804 as a political prisoner; her father had been a leader in the United Irishmen under Robert Emmett. He and her brothers had died in the 1803 rebellion or the reprisals following it.

Kate and her younger sister Margaret spent months in prison before starting their long voyage to Australia. Margaret didn’t make it; a typhoid outbreak claimed her, and her body was tossed overboard near the Falkland Islands. Kate didn’t take a lover among the crew, as some of the other women did; she’d rather die than lie with an Englishman. Upon arrival in the colony, Kate was one of the first prisoners at the ‘female factory’ at Parramatta Gaol, a newly constructed two-story facility for women. Instead of marrying up or being selected to serve in a wealthy colonist’s household, she spun wool as punishment for the next two years.

She was a ‘difficult’ prisoner, and her back had half as many lash marks as did mine. When I first saw her in the streets, she was nearly feral. The government provided no housing or means of support for them, so the women were selling their only asset- their bodies- to survive. Kate was catching rats and looking for food behind a pub when I walked by.

Two men had her cornered in an alley near the docks, her tattered clothes torn. One was trying to rip the rest of her shirt off as she struggled against him.

Her panicked green eyes met mine, and I fell in love at that moment. I turned and entered the alley as she bit his hand, right before he slapped her face. “On your KNEES, whore!”

“The lady is not interested in your offer,” I told the two men as I came up behind them.

“She’s no lady,” the first man said. “Twopence, and she’ll do anything I want.”

“Twopence, huh?” I walked up to the two men; they each weighed twice as much as the emaciated woman, her red hair barely visible after the last punishment shaving. I handed her the coins. “Do anything YOU want to HIM,” I whispered.

She held the money in her palm, a grin spreading across her face as she caught my meaning. Standing up, she walked towards the john with her hips swaying, licking her lips.

Then she kicked her tormentor in the twig and berries so hard he threw up.

“HEY,” his companion yelled, but my knife was already at his throat. “Take him home,” I said with a low growl. He picked up his companion, helping him out of the alleyway. “What’s your name,” I asked her when her green eyes turned back to mine.

“Kate,” she said.

“Kate, do you have a place to stay?” She shook her head, no. “You do now. I have a small cottage; you can bed down there if you like.”

“I won’t sleep in your bed,” she replied.

“There isn’t room for you anyway,” I said. “You can help with cooking, cleaning, and other things. I’ll make sure you have a roof over your head and a meal in your belly.” She didn’t look sure. “I’m not going to hurt you, lass. Give it a try; if you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

I didn’t bring her back the next day.

A year later, her hair had grown back, Katherine gained back her weight, and blossomed into a beautiful Irish bride. A year later, our son Emmett arrived. He was now coming up on his third birthday. Kate lost our next baby a few months in, and since then, we hadn’t gotten pregnant. It didn’t matter to me; Emmett was a happy baby, and I loved my family.

It hadn’t been easy. During the first two years of our marriage, Sydney suffered from a terrible drought. We had done better than most; I’d dug a well that kept our crops going and our sheep watered. Still, we barely raised enough food to survive. The dry grass couldn’t support the flock, which was now a quarter of the size it had been when Neil left for England. I was supplementing our stocks by hunting in wolf form, but this was becoming more dangerous by the month. More and more colonists had the same idea, and none would hesitate to shoot a wolf.

I hadn’t told Katherine about my dual nature when we lived together; I’d shift and run far from home and any other humans. Even after we married, I kept quiet, afraid she would reject me if she knew the truth.

I probably should have said something after Emmett was born. I didn’t remember from Ireland what would happen if a werewolf laid with a human, so I didn’t know if my son would be able to shift or not. I could feel the bond in my head, which, as a baby, only let me sense his emotions and some basic thoughts. I didn’t say anything until he was about ten months old.

I heard Kate’s scream from inside the cottage as I was drawing water for the sheep in the early morning. Rushing back inside, I saw Katherine in a corner, waving her apron at a small black wolf pup. Instead of scaring the animal away, the puppy thought it was a fun game. He chased it, yipping as he tried to catch it with his little teeth. “KATE! Stop.”

She stopped waving the apron but stayed in the corner. “How did that THING get in here? And where is Emmett?” She looked on, her bright green eyes wide as the pup ran over to me.

“Stay calm, my love. Emmett is right here,” I said as I scratched the pup’s chin. Pulling off my clothes and boots, I shifted into my big black wolf.

And Kate screamed again.

It didn’t last long. Kate watched me on the wooden floor of our cottage, play-fighting with my son until she gathered the courage to approach. She started by touching my fur, then sat down and giggled as Emmett ran over and plopped himself down in her lap. He turned over, short legs sticking up, and promptly fell asleep as she scratched his chest and stomach. I shifted back, sitting up as my wife looked down at our son. “He’s beautiful,” she finally said. “How?”

That took a whole puppy nap to explain.

“What does this mean to me?”

“You haven’t changed, my love,” I said. “We will need to be careful. Babies are unpredictable; now that he can shift, he can do it at will. I don’t have to tell you what would happen if anyone saw Emmett or me shift into a wolf.”

“They would kill us,” she concluded.

“Yes. That is why my Pack lived in the mountains, hidden from the others around us. Adults would trade and interact with those around them, but the children remained hidden.”

“How does that work for us?”

I shook my head. “Eventually, we will have to move from here.”

That time didn’t come until Emmett was nearly of age. The Governor was giving land grants to areas away from Sydney to attract settlers. I applied for and received a large land grant on the Shoalhaven River, about a hundred miles south of Sydney.

We sold our land and most of our flock before leaving for the new settlement near Nowra. Our new lands were well-suited to farming and raising livestock, and our family prospered. I lived long enough to bury my wife, and see my son fall in love and marry at the age of twenty-eight.

I didn’t live long enough to see them join the settlement that would become Melbourne.

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