“And now there is?”
“That would be my guess. We have wolves here in Norseton, actually. Newcomers. They provide security for us. Their ancestors were Eurasian wolves. Being unrelated to us, they obviously were spared the same misfortune as any shapeshifters you and I may have had in our respective clans.”
“And now?”
“And now, it would appear you have a wolf shifter in yours. Possibly the only one left, which is fascinating. Was the Toft family really so small that there are no other descendants in Andreas’s generation?”
“I believe so. I hadn’t turned up any other relatives during my search for him for work. If there are others similarly afflicted, Andreas didn’t mention them.”
He may not have known about them. Fallonites did tend to stick close to home, but there were some who were able to avoid the pull of the group and leave for good. There may have been more wolves like Andreas out stalking, possibly terrorizing unwitting humans they encountered.
Gods. She cringed. What a mess that would be.
“So, is he going to shift back?” Mary asked. “He’s not stuck in fur, is he?”
“He shouldn’t be, if I’m interpreting the history correctly. Our wolf alpha might know more. The females in the Norseton pack can’t shapeshift until they take a mate’s bite, so he’d certainly be familiar with what a delayed assertion looks like and what the triggers are.”
Mary let out a relieved breath. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
“We’ll get him to call ya,” Maggie said. “How’s that? He might be able to tell you how to wake the beast up if he isn’t acting right.”
“Would you please?”
“Yep, I’ll get right on it.”
“I’m really grateful for your help. I’m sorry for bothering you. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
“You’re fine, dear,” Muriel said in a soothing tone. “I’m pleased that you thought to look to us for help. That’s what we’re here for.”
Mary furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you think squirreling away all the history we’ve collected in these thousand years does me any good if I’m not sharing it?”
“Well, no.”
“One of those books of your father’s, Mary—well, we’d been looking for that text for ages. We were afraid it’d fallen into the hands of people who’d figure out what all the data meant, and who’d try to do us harm.”
“Or worse,” Maggie piped in, “people who already have done harm. Not just to the Afótama, but to all of us.”
Although they couldn’t see her, Mary nodded. She would’ve had to be living under a rock not to have heard
about all the children being kidnapped from the Afótama. Queen Tess had been one of them. The rumors in Fallon were that they believed the Fallonites had something to do with the disappearances, but if the Afótama really believed that, they didn’t act on the suspicion.
“You can come visit your father’s books any time,” Muriel said. “We put bookplates in them that say, From the Library of Shawn Nissen.”
Mary let out a strained laugh that made Andreas raise his wolfy head. “I think…I’d like that.”
“Well, good. We’ll track down Adam and have him give you a call as soon as we can.”
“Thank you again.”
“Good luck to you, Miss Nissen.” The older ladies disconnected the call.
Mary tapped the side of her phone against her palm and watched the wolf watch her.
“A werewolf of all things,” she whispered. “What am I going to do with you?”
She couldn’t do anything, yet, but wait. If she were lucky, that man—Adam—would have some news for her, and she could get Andreas back on two feet and wearing his handsome human face again.