Hot Blooded

After a minute, I turned away and started to pace. “What it states there doesn’t make any sense.

Why wouldn’t we have our own record of this if it were true? Anyone could’ve made this stuff up—

it’s on the Internet for chrissake. That could easily be the rantings of a sixteen- year-old sci-fi nerd who fabricated a story about a female werewolf who took over the world. He probably saw a graphic novel about a hot chick who turned into a wolf and his libido shot into overdrive.”

I made it back and forth twice before anyone spoke.

“Well.” Devon paused. “This isn’t the only place I found this information… exactly.”

I spun around to face him. “What? Are you telling me what’s written there is actually a possibility?” The pulse of change began to twitch just below the surface of my skin, my arms and legs tightening in anticipation.

Major emotion was hard on wolves.

It triggered everything inside us, like holding a lit match in front of a can of butane. Since these sensations were brand-new to me, I was clearly having a hard time containing myself. Being overtired and worried about finding Rourke did nothing to help the situation either. There was also the slight problem of harboring a deadly spell in my veins, a gift from a deranged goddess who was trying to kill me.

“I believe it might be more than a possibility,” Devon replied. “What we are seeing here is likely a loose interpretation of the original Prophecy, since the real one would be so old it would have gone through numerous retellings in numerous languages before now.” He nodded toward the text on the screen. “I’ve cross-referenced ‘True Lycan’ in some of our oldest books and there are several indications in Pack history of a ‘stranger who will walk again’ who is ‘unique from all others’ and will

‘dole out justice’ with a supreme rule. It never specifies a female, per se, but I think all these things make it a strong possibility nonetheless.” He pointed in front of him. “This website went live less than twelve hours ago and the link was sent directly to me. I’ve been unable to trace any of the digital signatures. I don’t even know what country it originated from. But there’s enough correct wording,

even though I can’t officially authenticate any of it from the Rights of Laws, that makes me believe what we’re reading here could hold truth, or at least a version of the truth, to your identity.”

The werewolf Rights of Laws, our bible of sorts, had entries missing and others were charred beyond recognition. It had been destroyed in a fire long before it had been entrusted to my father. If there’d been any kind of werewolf Prophecy, it would’ve likely been inside those pages. Since

“Lycans” were our ancestors, they were commonly referenced in our books.

I glanced at my father. “I’m not going with ‘truth’ just yet. We’re still seeing this on the Internet for the first time and it’s too similar to the Cain Myth to be a coincidence. Whoever sent this link to Devon had to have been behind sending the first Myth to the Compound all those years ago.”

“Agreed.” My father nodded. “But the Cain Myth was obviously changed to target our race alone.

To instill hatred of you from the very beginning.”

“But why would someone do that?” I asked. It seemed too complicated.

“Fear. Whoever is behind all this was worried you’d grow up to be too powerful, which you are proving to be. At the time you were an infant. There was no way to reach you. What better way to see your end than to make sure the wolves wanted you dead from the very beginning? The Cain Myth did its job effectively. The wolves have grown irrationally fearful of you, coupling you with the end of our race. If they had their way, you wouldn’t have lived to see your sixteenth birthday.”

I could recite the Cain Myth in my sleep.

As a Female in Wolf Skin rises, the unborn Daughter of Cain is born;

In her the beast shall lie, well hidden in True Form;

And from this day forth, the Wolves of the Night shall pay;

Blood and flesh of their bones, her mighty hand shall slay;

The end of the race will be close at hand;

When the Daughter of Evil rules the land.

I arched an eyebrow at my father. “If we already had information about a ‘True Lycan’ in our history, why haven’t we put the pieces together before now?”

My father’s irises jumped, sparking violet. His emotion tingled quickly through my veins, the blood we’d shared during the oath rearing up in my body, sending a flood of sensations through me,

and at the forefront was love. “Rumors of a strong one, Y Gwir Lycae, the True Lycan, the one above all others who would someday rise again, have been around for as long as I can remember. Those were the tall tales the elders told around the hearth at the end of the day, a cup of mead in hand. Did I think those old stories might be connected in any way to my daughter? Never. The thought didn’t even enter my mind. We are a male race, dominated by strength. Your birth was an anomaly, something I have always considered special. I thought fate had smiled on us by introducing a female line, because without them, our race will eventually die out. There are very few human women left in the world who can carry our offspring to term. Despite the Cain Myth and all the trouble it caused, I held fast to the hope you were here for a reason and eventually the wolves would accept you and see you as I did—as an asset to this race. It seems you are indeed here for a reason, but it’s not quite the one I’d been hoping for.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think this is what any of us had hoped for—certainly not me.”

“With that said, I believe this is not the time to lament fate,” my father stated firmly. “In order to move forward, we need to arm ourselves with as much information as we can gather. I agree with

Devon. This is only a version of the real Prophecy. I want more answers as soon as possible.” He turned to Devon. “When I return, I want a full report, even if you have to travel to the Old Country to obtain the information you need.” We had an ancestral estate in Scotland. It was an old, beautiful castle filled with antiques and a library as big as a football field. “Cross-check with every entry you can find about Y Gwir Lycae. There should be a fair amount of texts to draw from. When you’re done, I want a cohesive outline of what we are looking at here.”

Devon nodded once. “Yes, sir.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’m not sure what to believe. The reasoning that these old tales were actually about a female is thin. I don’t have to remind you now is not a good time to find out I’m some reincarnate of an all-powerful she-wolf who is supposed to dole out justice to the supernatural world.” Was there a good time to hear something like that? “Among other things, I have an angry police detective tied up in the other room I might actually have to kill.” I slid my fingertips to the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “This is all so insane.”

I was more rattled hearing this news than I cared to admit. During my first few days as the only full-blooded female werewolf in the world I’d been ruthlessly attacked in my own home, turned on by my own kind, bound by a goddess who had stolen my mate—who was a werecat of unknown origin—

and taken prisoner by a cranky Vampire Queen—whom I’d sworn an oath to that could get me killed.

If this so-called Prophecy was true, it was going to stir up a maelstrom once it spread through the preternatural grapevine—if it hadn’t already. Who knew who already possessed this information? We could’ve been the last to receive it on purpose. It didn’t bode well that the stinky imp this morning had hinted about it. And if that little asshole knew, there was a chance they all knew.

“Jessica,” my father said as he stood. “We will handle this. It’s not ideal, but we will persevere as we always have. We are wolves. And wolves fight. We will win.”

“I’m leaving town in less than five hours.” I glanced at my wrist, even though I hadn’t worn a watch in years. I gazed across the room and met my father’s eyes, my blood jumping with his anxiety,

mixed with a hefty dose of my own. “I can’t even begin to process everything this quickly. I’m going to need more time.”

“Well,” Devon interrupted, “there may be an upside to all this after all.” He swiped a bead of sweat off his brow. “It’s much better than finding out the Cain Myth is true. At least with you being the True Lycan, we know you’re not the real Daughter of Cain. I mean, right there, that should calm down some of the wolves, don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Right?”

I shot him a dangerous glare. Devon wasn’t a wolf. He was a human Essential to the Pack, brought in for his technical savvy. He was a nice guy and completely loyal to Pack, but I wasn’t interested.

“Yes,” I answered. “Because my new job of vanquishing all evil is much easier to