Paige shook her head at that. “That’s not how it works. I don’t know any breed of shapeshifters that can change into totally different animals. Full Bloods can change a few different ways, but even their fur stays roughly the same color and you’d never mistake one for a cat. Besides, her story about almost getting killed along with you holds up. Full Bloods and Mongrels hate each other, and that’s not just colorful language. We’re talking hate. Come to think of it, her being there might have kept you alive just by distracting that Full Blood long enough. And if she had anything to do with what happened to Gerald and Brad, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to come all the way back here so I could pick up her trail again.”
“A lot of what she said fits with what Ace and Steph told us,” Cole pointed out.
“Yep, and since there’s no way in hell a Mongrel would work with Nymar like them just to put together a good story, it seems both sources hold up pretty well. Give me some more towels.” Once Cole handed them to her, she carefully wiped up the greasy residue Jackie had left on the walls and bedside tables.
“So Full Bloods hate Mongrels,” he said. “That’s good to know, I guess. Now, these things are full-blooded…what?”
Going over another patch of residue that was on the dresser, Paige said, “They’re werewolves, Cole. Nothing much can harm them, but whatever wounds they do get tend to heal up real quick unless they were put there by charmed weapons like that Blood Blade. Those things are hard to make, and only a few Gypsy families know how to make them. That’s why we’ve got to protect whatever blades we get our hands on.”
“A werewolf?” Cole asked. “A real werewolf?” He let out a breath and ran his fingers over his head. “Does it howl at the moon?” he asked, and chuckled.
Paige nodded. “Yep. They do like to howl. They can change whenever they like, and as far as we know, they can live for over a hundred years.”
“Yowza.”
“Sorry, Cole. Usually we don’t just spool it all out like this, but you’re kind of getting the crash course since you’ve already seen some of these things firsthand. To be honest, most of us don’t get to see a Full Blood for years. Living through it is even more rare.”
“What was the first you ever saw?” he asked.
Reluctantly, she said, “A Half Breed. It was a bad situation, so just leave it at that.”
“And they’re not as bad as Full Bloods?”
She winced, and after a moment replied, “They’re different. They can’t change whenever they want and they’re wilder. They also…well…it’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Do they live a hundred years?”
“Oh, no,” she quickly said. “They’re mean, strong, and very fast, but they can be put down like any other big, ugly animal. When they change all the way, it takes a lot more. Big enough guns can do the trick, but there are other methods that work a whole lot better.”
“I wouldn’t mind putting a few of those things out of their misery,” Cole said. “After seeing what happened in that cabin, it would do me some good to stand up to them.”
Paige bundled up a towel soaked with the residue. Slipping back into her kung fu voice, she said, “Now is the time for my disciple to settle a score of another sort.” Seeing the eager look on Cole’s face, she added, “The hotel bill. Take this.” She slapped a wad of money into his hand. “Pay the bill, pay for the damages, make sure nothing’s charged to your card, and then leave.”
After picking up his few remaining personal things, Cole headed for the door, but stopped short before opening it. “I just realized I’ve been wearing the same clothes so long that they’re sticking to me.”
Unable to keep a straight face, Paige said, “That’s probably how that Mongrel tracked you all the way from Canada. If you need new clothes, we can get some on the way out of town.”
At the desk, Cole spoke to a perky little man with bad skin, a worse toupee, and a surprisingly genuine smile. When he told him he was checking out, the clerk asked if everything was okay and then offered him a complimentary muffin. The clerk threw a mild fit when he got the phone call from the maid he’d sent to check on the room, but quickly calmed down after Cole handed over enough cash to settle the entire account. On his way out, Cole took his complimentary muffin, then ducked back inside to snag a second one.
Twenty minutes later he and Paige were headed north on I–94. Paige was doing the driving while munching happily on the treat Cole had brought her. She looked so happy that, if her mouth wasn’t stuffed full at the moment, she might have been ready to sing.
“Wha ki id di?”
“Did you actually form words just now or was that some sort of code?” Cole asked.
Chewing up the rest of the muffin and wiping the crumbs from her chin, she said, “What kind is this? The muffin?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. One of the dark, healthy looking ones.”
“Damn, that was good.” Reaching for the coffee she’d bought at a gas station, Paige sipped from the foam cup, blew on it, and then sipped again.
As he watched her, Cole couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a morning person. Strike one.”
“Not a morning person, but I do like breakfast,” she amended.
“Now that you’re done stuffing your face, how about we pull over to get me some clothes? I think these are about to start walking on their own.”
She shook her head while taking another pull from her coffee, which resulted in dripping enough to produce a nice, dark stain on her shirt. “Not yet. There’s an outlet mall near the state line,” she said while swiping at the spilled brew. “We’ll stop there.”
“Like you’re so strapped for cash. What about that bundle you showed me at the hotel?”
“Those are funds to be used when necessary,” she said, as if quoting from a manual. “And before you ask, they come from a pool made by other Skinners and any number of fine people who feel they owe it to us to keep us properly outfitted.”
“So, you save someone’s ass from a werewolf and they chip in for the cause?”
“Pretty much.”
“I guess that makes sense. So, what’s a Mongrel?”
“They’re shapeshifters,” Paige explained. “But not werewolves. Werewolves turn into wolves, or something along those lines. Mongrels turn into everything else.”
“Like what?”
Paige shrugged, and rolled down the window to let a breeze rush through the car that felt just as capable of separating flesh from bone as the subject of the conversation. “I’ve seen some cats and foxes,” she said casually. “One or two bears. Those are very tough, by the way. Snakes, lizards…”
Cole started laughing, and wrapped his hands around his foam coffee cup. “It was a real question, Paige. No need for the bullshit.”
“I’m serious!” Holding up her hand to tick off her fingers, she added, “Leopards, tigers…but I haven’t seen all of these myself. Lions, coyotes…”
“Such crap,” he muttered.
Paige stopped, but only to take a sip of coffee. Although there was still some good humor in her eyes, there wasn’t enough there to make Cole certain she’d been kidding. Finally, she said, “All shapeshifters are tricky and dangerous. They don’t need to feed on people, which means they don’t need to expose themselves like the Nymar. They’re territorial, so they fight for turf and kill to keep it. One Skinner from way back said he found evidence that shapeshifters used to try and live away from humans so they could just do their own thing. According to him, the more humans pushed into the wilderness, the more the shapeshifters pushed back.”
“Sounds like an environmentalist’s worse case scenario,” Cole grunted.
“It may go a bit further back than that.”
“The sixties?” Cole offered.
“Eighteen sixties, maybe.”
“Seriously?”
Paige laughed and let her foot off the gas so she could slide past a cop while doing something close to the speed limit. “Don’t sound so impressed. They’re common legends and most are recorded in devices called books. You know, those things where words are written down on paper and not on a computer screen?” Seeing the dry look on Cole’s face, she eased up a bit. “Skinners don’t live forever,” she said. “Considering our line of work, we barely get to live as long as Gerald. We mostly pass on what we know one on one, but there’s a lot to be learned from history and folklore.”