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“That’s different,” Marty said petulantly. “That was, you know, made-up.”

Ariel continued. “Stories about shape-shifters are found all over the world, and they’re about all kinds of animals.

Whatever’s common locally. You really have to accept that there might be something to all these stories, yes?”

“I’ve never heard of these stories.”

Wow, I loved how some people were so good at digging their own holes.

“Your culture isn’t the only one in the world, Marty. Moving on to the next call, we have Irene from Tulsa, hello.”

My turn? Me? I was ready for this. I tried to sound more chipper and ditzy than I had the last time I called. “Hi, Ariel!”

“So, you’re a were-jaguar. Can you tell me how exactly that happened? Jaguars aren’t exactly native to Tulsa.”

“When I was in college I spent a summer volunteering in Brazil for an environmental group, working in the jungle. One time I started back to camp a little late, and, well…” I took a deep, significant breath. “I was attacked.”

How could you not sympathize with that story? Oh, yeah, somebody nominate me for an Oscar. I wondered how long it would take her to spot the fake.

“That’s an amazing story,”Ariel said, clearly impressed. “How have you coped since then?”

“I have good days, I have bad days. It’s really hard not having anyone to talk to about it. As far as I know, all the other were-jaguars are in Brazil.”

“You ever think about going back and finding someone who might be able to help you?”

“It just never worked out.” I’m so sad, pity me…

“Well, Irene, if you really want something, there’s always a way.”

Maybe that was why Ariel bothered me so much: that Pollyanna sunshine attitude. Sometimes, things just didn’t work out.

“I want to get married under a full moon

. Is there a way for me to get that?”

“Sometimes you have to adjust your wants to be a little more realistic.”

“Easy for you to say.”

She dodged, yanking control of the conversation back to her. “Tell me why you really haven’t been back to Brazil.”

I said breezily, “Well, you know, I had to come back home, finish school, then I met this guy, see, and then I broke up with this guy—and you know how it is, one thing then another, and I guess I got distracted.”

Ariel wasn’t having it. “Irene, are you pulling my leg?”

Damn, she got me. That didn’t mean I had to admit it. “Oh, Ariel, why would I do something like that?”

“You tell me.”

“Calling you with a fake story about being a were-jaguar would be—oh, I don’t know—a delusion based in some psychiatric disorder? A desperate cry for attention?”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Ariel said. “Moving on to the next call, Gerald—”

I hung up in disgust. I still hadn’t gotten her to say anything stupid. I was feeling pretty stupid, but never mind that. My inner two-year-old was enjoying herself.

Cormac was watching me from the kitchen, which made me even more disgruntled. I didn’t need an audience. At least not one that was sitting there staring at me.

He said, “You ever think that maybe she’s really a vampire or a witch or something, the same way that you’re really a werewolf? That she’s keeping it under wraps like you did?”


Tags: Carrie Vaughn Kitty Norville Fantasy