Page 17 of Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels

“No.” She gave a single nod. “It wasn’t.”

“I’m guessing that maybe werewolves are forced to turn into wolves at the full moon, but can—or at least some can—turn when they want. That about sum that up?”

“Just about.”

“After my little incident with Andrew, don’t you think that would have been good information for me to have?” I frowned.

“Why?” She snorted. “Andrew ain’t one of them. He ain’t nearly powerful enough to be changin’ his skin any ole damn time the mood strikes him.”

“Regardless.” I tried not to be dazed by this conversation I was having with my grandmother in her more than ordinary country kitchen. “It would be good to have told me, hey, since you know there are werewolves now, maybe you should know that you don’t just have to worry about the full moon. Especially since Point Worth seems to be teeming with them, Oma.”

“Every damn time I turn around, you’re scolding me for something.” She sighed.

“Rightfully so,” I stated though I couldn’t put any force behind the words. “This is twice I could have been clawed or chewed up by a werewolf—wolves—because you decided to keep secrets, Oma.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Some werewolves can change any damn time they please. Happy?”

“I guess.”

“But I didn’t know we had any of them around here.” She waggled her head. “Usually they have to belong to a pack and have a pretty damn powerful Pack Alpha to have that kind of power, and—”

“Pack?” I stopped her. “Pack Alpha?”

“Well, yes. Wolves have packs and alphas so why wouldn’t werewolves?”

“Ya’ know,” I shrugged, “I’ll give you that one. Where’d Lena disappear off to?”

Oma looked around, as though Lena’s whereabouts hadn’t even crossed her mind until I brought her up.

“Lena?” She hollered.

Without so much as a sound, a bright light, a puff of smoke, or anything, Lena was walking out from underneath the table next to Oma. Seeing little humanoid creatures—Kobolds—appear and disappear on a whim would never be something to which I wasn’t sure I could become accustomed. However, I did my best not to jump at the sudden sight of her or do anything that might make her think that I was hostile. I didn’t even have Ernst’s full trust yet—though he had been willing to take a mauling for me the previous night.

“Yes, ma’am?” Lena asked, her eyes darting to me for a moment.

Her voice was like Ernst’s, barely distinguishable from his squeaky-toy-like voice. Maybe it was a little more feminine, but it was pretty close to the same. Even Lena’s physical appearance was strikingly similar to Ernst’s. For a second, I wondered if Ernst wasn’t just somewhere with a trunk full of disguises, waiting to make an appearance in various parts of the house. However, Ernst soon followed Lena out from under the table, though he exited on my side of the table. I did jump when he appeared, only because I hadn’t expected him. Ernst flinched and went to step away.

“Sorry, Ernst.” I reached down to touch his shoulder. “You just startled me.”

He looked up at me then and smiled widely, grateful that I hadn’t been preparing to do something violent. His little pointy ears wriggled slightly, and I suddenly realized that Lena’s ears were a bit more rounded at the top. Her eyes were somewhat more almond-shaped. I’d have to pay attention to tell them apart physically, but it wasn’t impossible.

“It’s awight, sir.” He beamed.

I patted his shoulder again and smiled at him before turning my attention to Oma and Lena.

“There y’all are.” Oma sighed. “Thought you’d have slithered out as soon as everyone was gone.”

“He’s still here.” Lena whisper-hissed at Oma, one of her tiny little fingers jabbing in my direction in what she probably thought was a discreet manner.

“Well, he’s gonna be around for a while, so you may as well get used to coming out with him in the room,” Oma spoke down to Lena. “He ain’t gonna hurt you none.”

“I heard what you done to Ernst.” Lena squinted at me.

“It was an accident,” I said, referring to accidentally blasting Ernst into the bathroom with my finger rays. “I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“Well, don’ go jabbin’ yer fingers at me!” He squeaked.

Oma chuckled. I wanted to giggle but didn’t think it would be appropriate. Instead, I gave her a grave look and nodded. Of course, given what had happened the night before, the fact that the Sheriff’s department had been in the backyard all morning…levity would not have been entirely appropriate.