AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Two, if the pictures are accurate,” she said. “I remember the old one from our visits. Such a sweetheart.”
“My grandma was born on her family’s farm somewhere in rural Germany. They were never without a good mouser. The only time she didn’t have a cat were her years spent imprisoned in Dachau. Shortly after her liberation, she befriended a stray in the streets; Samson’s great great great grandmother or something. 'Marcy, you can learn a lot from cats,' she'd tell me. 'A good cat knows what's coming before you do.'”
Hand on her chin, Calico leaned forward with rapt attention. “Go on, love,” she purred.
“You aren’t feline, but you know what’s coming when this investigation concludes, don’t you? Harlowe said you mentor new werewolves.”
Her eyes rolled. “Shithead gave you the talk, didn't he? He's not supposed to. I can report him.”
“Please don't,” I said quickly. “I appreciate his warning.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of ratting on a terrier.” She pulled a clean towel from a shelf to her left. “Sheriffs are cunning. Harlowe didn’t warn you; he started a game. They love games, Marcy. If he’s gone and involved you, there’s a reason he wants you on the board.”
“Apart from making a mess, he’s been helpful.”
“He’s an experienced player.” She laid a dappled hand on her robe. “We’ll talk boys later, hun. Important shit first. Give me a direction for now, a teaser of what you want. Ask me anything, right here, right now.”
I accepted the towel. “I’m more of an ask now, think of a better question in the shower, type of gal.”
She smiled. “Fun.”
Waving at her to shoo, I unbuttoned my shirt. “Werewolf genes pass through generations, right?”
“Yes.”
“How quickly do they dilute?”
“Depends on how diluted they are at the progenitor. Often it takes ten, eleven generations before the traces of werewolf are a fifty-fifty percentage of inheritance on the slimmest margin. Could be the difference between you being a carrier with decent eyesight at dusk and your sister a regular human.”
“People with suppressed wolf traits, if they got bit, does anything change?”
“They’ve already got the curse; extra bites don’t increase potency. Many have tried, to unfortunate and tragic ends, but there’s no changing what you are.” Though her eyes were unreadable, they weren’t without a certain hunger. “Except for purebred humans.”
“Is there a way someone with a stronger heritage might not realize they’ve got werewolf blood?”
The woman tilted her head. “Do you believe you’re blood?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m wondering about someone I know.”
“Well,” she said, looking hesitant. “No doubt Harlowe has explained how we ‘stick’ in one shape if silver breaks our skin. I suppose if you were stuck and didn’t know or couldn’t access the embedded silver, sure. Works on sheriffs.”
“What do you mean?”
“Born a wolf, raised a monster. Watch yourself around him, Marcy. You and I are food first.” Calico moved toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Aiden will have worked our pack into a frenzy.”
chapter 12
THE REAPER
Water stung my thigh. The warmth made my exhausted body drowsy. I'd wrapped a towel around my chest and was trying to recall if showering broke a cardinal law about caring for new stitches when someone knocked.
“You decent, sugar?” Calico strolled in regardless. “Brought you one of Evie’s sundresses. This pink won’t do you any favors, but I can't have you shambling ragged through my halls.”
“Who’s Evie?”
“Stephen’s wife.”
“Oh.” I blanched. “Given where his pelt was found, I don’t think that’d be appro—”
