“Because I knew that you would treat it just like Declan would, like one of his damned Chuck Norris jokes.”
“Hey, I’ve heard all the Superman jokes there are, but there are no such things as Chuck Norris jokes… just facts,” Kent said.
“Chuck got cold once so he turned up the sun,” Mack said.
“You two can ride together,” Caeco said, waving for Jetta to get in her Bureau SUV.
“Chuck Norris can pick apples from an orange tree and make the best lemonade you ever tasted,” Chief Kent said to Mack as the two walked toward the chief’s vehicle.
“Chief Kent, you say the boys were murdered by an unknown assailant, yet you mention nothing about their manner of death. There are credible reports that they were mauled by an animal… or a werewolf!”
“Carla, you should be careful who you believe. The boys’ wounds were such that they appeared to be claw wounds, but they were not. The weapon that inflicted their wounds was made of steel, common tool steel.”
“But Chief, there have been reports of howling and sightings of a large wolf-type creature roaming the Cape?”
“Yes, that’s because there actually was a young, confused werewolf. A member of the FBI’s Special Threat Response Team and two experts on weres helped us locate and rescue the individual werewolf. She has been cleared of anything to do with the murders which, as I just mentioned, were the work of a regular human killer using a steel weapon to try and replicate what a werewolf might do. We are very close to finding the killer. That’s all for now.”
“Chief, who is the werewolf? The public has a right to know if they’re in danger!”
“Thank you. That’s all for now.”
The next morning found the three young investigators, the chief, Kristin’s mother, and Kristin all riding in Caeco’s SUV, cruising slowly up Stonegate Road. Kristin was smelling the air outside through her partially open window as they drove slowly along the street.
“Well done with the press conference,” Mack said. “We watched from the hotel. You do well in front of a camera.”
“The press is hounding me for your names,” Kent said.
“And my boss was very happy that you haven’t given them. Not all of us need the limelight,” Caeco said, her tone clearly implying something. The chief frowned at her until Mack spoke up.
“You don’t honestly think for one second that Declan wants anyone to know who he is, do you?” he asked Caeco. Jetta snorted at the idea.
“I would have said no but look how well he took to it.”
“He friggin hates it,” Jetta said, looking out the other rear passenger window.
“I can’t believe how you just toss their names around,” Kristin said.
“We all have a ton of history with them,” Mack said, grinning and very carefully not looking at Caeco.
“Hmppf,” was her only reply.
“You didn’t give them my name either, Chief,” the girl said, something in her voice a question. “They are right, you know… people should be allowed to know about the killer in their midst.”
“Bullshit,” Jetta said, leaning forward from the third-row seats to look at her. “Tell me, Kristin, how did you survive being a wolf so long? What did you eat?”
Kristin looked down at her hands, folded on her lap. “I ate a deer.”
“Did you kill that deer?”
“No, it got hit by a car on Ocean House Road. It was wounded and bled to death. Then I ate it. The whole thing.”
“You just sat and watched it bleed out?” Jetta asked, surprised.
The girl nodded, head down. Her mother shot Jetta a glare and reached over to take one of her daughter’s hands.
“Unbelievable. Is that the only thing you ate in all that time?”
“No. I killed a turkey—and I ate a chicken from one of the farms.”
“You beast, you,” Jetta said. “Honestly, you are the least killing werewolf I’ve ever met. I am glad to hear about the birds, because a werewolf who can’t kill prey at all rarely lives long. But come on. You protected Marika in the woods, then when you go to find the boys, you end up following the survivor to make sure he made it out. What the hell kind of a killer is that?”
“Jet’s right. You’re not a killer. You’re a protector,” Mack said. “More like a guard were.”
“You’re wrong… I could easily bite someone… You don’t know how angry I get!”
“Hah,” Mack said. “You’re seventeen… you get angry all the time; that’s normal. And yes, you could kill someone, either by accident if you let your anger turn into berserk rage or if you had to protect someone—like, say, your mom. But we know a lot of killers, supernatural or not, and you’re not one of them.”
“Kristin, Mack and Jetta are right, but so are you,” Caeco said, looking in her rearview mirror to catch the girl’s eyes. “You absolutely need to learn to control your new instincts. I think you have done a great job, an unbelievable job, doing so to this point, but you have to have instruction.”
“Stacia Reynolds called me last night,” Kristin said, disbelief flooding across her features. “She spoke to all of us, Mom, Dad, and me. She said the same thing that you did. She’s going to visit me in a couple of days to talk about being a… a werewolf.”
“That’s great. She’s a good teacher, a natural Alpha,” Mack said. “But Hekla, don’t feed Declan any of that lamb dish you gave me or he’ll be pestering you for the recipe. Next thing you know, it’ll be on the menu at his aunt’s restaurant.”
“He’s coming too?” Kristin asked. “She didn’t say anything about that at all.”
“They’re pretty much inseparable,” Mack said. Caeco gave him a quick glare.
“That was unnecessary, Mack,” his sister said.
“Hey, just telling it like it is. Life goes on,” he said, then looked out his own window, leaving the chief wondering what they were talking about.
