Good As Dead

Chapter Fourteen

It takes a few moments to find a suitable response to an estranged aunt calling me back and sounding really irritated about it. The phone feels slippery in my hand; I'm sweaty-palmed from nerves. "Thanks for getting back to me. I called you guys because I have some questions about my mom."

"What kind of questions?" The words are made sharper by her voice, heavy as a growl and without much inflection.

The kind that'll help me fight a vampire. But how do I slide the conversation toward that? "Well, she died when I was a baby..."

"I know. I was there."

I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea. "Okay, so I don't know anything about her or her family."

"Uh-huh. You think you can learn everything about your mother and this pack through a single phone call?"

I grit my teeth, determined to remain pleasant. "No. I just hoped you could tell me a little about what it means to be a wolf witch. What you actually go through."

"For what, a school report?"

My voice dips into a snarl before I can help myself. "Like I'd take your hassling for some fucking homework. Look, my body's doing weird things. Growing claws and stuff. I don't know why, and I don't know who to ask about what it means. I obviously can't ask my mom."

There's a long pause at the other end, and when she speaks again, her tone sounds softer. "What signs are you showing, exactly?"

I clear my throat. "All my life, I could never change any part of me. But about a week ago, I started growing claws whenever I got upset. Each time it's a little easier, a little faster. Now I'm at the point where I can grow them out just by thinking it."

"That all?"

"Um. This morning, my hands and arms changed into something else. Not really a wolf's legs; except for the claws, the structure stayed human. But I grew fur and a lot more muscle, all the way up to my elbows. The rest of me stayed human. I think it did, anyway. It's not like I could check out the nearest mirror." I manage to keep my voice calm, but my body must go tense, because Gideon moves against me.

"Hm. What were you doing?"

"Fighting." I don't want to go into the vampire thing. She's already suspicious of me, and I'm damn sure she'll end the call outright if she thinks I'm playing a prank. "After I was done, my arms went back to being human."

There's a grunt on the other end. Then, "Your sister ever have problems?"

"Maria?" I hear my voice turn bitter. "No. Magic never confuses her. She's a full-on mech witch."

"Jealous, are we?" Her gruff words turn amused.

"You try being a dud throughout your life without becoming bitter."

But she only laughs. "You're no dud, girl. You're showing signs of being something rarer than a regular wolf."

"What?" I say, sitting up.

She says a phrase in Spanish, too fast for me to separate the syllables.

"Sorry?"

She repeats it more slowly, but I still can't grasp it. "I don't understand you. I was raised to speak only English."

Another growling sound, but then she says, "It translates to sister with boundless skin. Easier to just call yourself a sisterwolf; other wolves know what it means."

"Do humans know about sisterwolves?"

"Sort of. Some of their werewolf lore sprung from seeing them. Twisted around and fucked up, mind you, like everything else humans talk about. The way they tell it, silver burns a sisterwolf." Her bitter laugh sounds like a bark.