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“I’d rather not disturb her body unless necessary.”
To witness the flutter of the moldered blue scarf I’d buried her in, her withered chin rising over the coffin, eye sockets sunken and brittle lips cracked into a smile . . .
“Good,” I said, relieved, and rose, first to check on Mila, the girl was out; then to rest my shoulder against the dining room window. I waved Caelan over. When he closed the distance, I turned into him and took the time from his pocket watch. “Say she was a werewolf. Say Tolbert’s obsession went both ways. If she had a hunk of NY strip steak waiting, why wasn’t she registered? I would think it’d be easier to, uh, enjoy, if it was publicly acceptable to do so.”
“It is.” His smile seemed sad, but I couldn’t quite fathom why. “As to your grandmother, I’d wager for your sake as a human, she convinced Tolbert not to require her registration, otherwise you would have been raised with proper knowledge and a choice.”
“Another Stephen,” I mumbled, returning the watch into his vest pocket. “But why would Tolbert and Gannon agree?”
“Tolbert was a formidable sheriff in his prime. Gannon likely turned a blind eye at his request. Tolbert, however, fell in love,” Caelan said, meeting my eyes then quickly averting his. He cleared his throat. “Based on Tolbert’s journals, your grandmother had entered into a relationship with the sheriff prior to the incident leading to your residence in this house. Given Warren was a Germanic werewolf in origin, she and the Tolbert may have met around the time of your grandparents’ arrival in New York.”
“Was Warren registered?”
“If he was, it was under a pseudonym or Tolbert had the name scrubbed. Simplest explanation I can fathom: Warren broke rank traveling to Greece and retrieving your grandmother. Somehow his hand was forced and he was required to register as a werewolf. However, he registered under a false name—”
“—possibly my mother’s actual maiden name, according to her birth certificate—” I eyed one of the blank sketchbooks on the far end of the table, tempted to whip it open and start assembling a family tree with a running list of everyone’s name. I didn’t know what or who we were trying to hide, but Caelan was right; we had done a damn good confusing job of it.
“—and the lie was discovered by a diligent NYPA clerk, which may have initiated an encounter between Tolbert and your grandmother, and introduced subsequent tension between your grandparents. What bothers me is Gannon agreeing to let her slip long after Tolbert retired. He was a proponent of the old days. He wouldn’t have let the opportunity go to hunt you and your grandmother down. When I travelled north to relieve Gannon, he was planning the murder of a young single mother after having already murdered her son. Kid did nothing but get into the wrong car. Mother did nothing but save her neighborhood from a Dullahan, one of the spirits raised by Mr. Hayes.”
“What happened to her?”
“Lost her file in the transition from Gannon to myself.”
“She’s okay?”
“Not after losing a child, but last I heard she’s rebuilding her life.”
I couldn’t help but think of Mila. “It’s evil, using a child this way.”
“It’ll get worse,” he warned. “We’ll have to sacrifice resources to protect her.”
“I’m okay with that,” I said through a fleeting smile. “It’ll be you and me in the end, anyway, whatever that looks like.”
“Yeah, I reckon so.”
“I’m glad for that. I’m glad I’m not alone, and I’m glad you helped that poor mother escape. Tolbert may have been the human-shaped garbage you suggest, but I’m glad he found it in his trash heap of a heart to help my grandmother. Maybe sheriffs aren’t all bad.”
“Maybe there’s something about y’all that bad folks are drawn to.”
I wasn’t sure why, but his comment stung. “Lumping yourself into a group of winners, aren’t you?”
He looked away again. “I’m not any better.”
“Well, what a relief. You aren’t different; I’m a supernatural venus fly trap.”
Concern flashed through his eyes. “Marcy—”
“I know,” I snapped. “I’m sorry. All the sense has drained from my world and I’m left to wander a landscape of melted clocks and stairs leading nowhere. I’m frustrated.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Me, too.”
My dim smile, reflected in the glass of Gram’s beloved curio, betrayed a level exhaustion I’d never seen on my face before. “Is it common for a werewolf to snap after learning they’ve been cheated on?”
“Can’t speak to an individual without a better sense of their mental state. There are, however, more common crimes of passion amongst Werefolk. As I’ve told you, instinct is tough to control.” He touched the serpentine ink. “Most successful new Werefolk and other supernatural creatures come about as a result of marriages where the family member joins the Otherworld. Relationships between humans and Werefolk often contain too many secrets and risks to work. Keeping the secret and marrying a human…” He raised his eyebrows. “There’s a safety element involved. Turning humans preserves our species and genetic diversity. For those we love, the instinct is to make you one of us. Left curtailed, combined with other stressors such as physical and mental health, and one day your lover may accidentally or over-zealously convert you. I’ve seen marriages of thirty, forty years end in bloodshed because, after years of denial, instinct won. I’ve seen young folks turned out of spite because they’re moving on in a relationship; so with every shift they’ll be an echo of their ex.”
“Let me try and figure this,” I said. “Warren and Genessa never had a child of their own, which leads me to believe she may have been human for a while. She was already pregnant with my mother when they met. Hence, no fangs for me unless I’ve been chipped with silver this entire time. Gramps, denied his pack, sensing another male encroaching on his turf, may have snapped and attempted to change us before Tolbert could?”
“Possible.” Caelan frowned. “If Warren had known anything about sheriffs, and I’m certain he had, he’d have known we only bite to kill.”
