“Really?” I’d automatically assumed we weren’t very different at all, except for the whole shifting thing.
“Yes, well, if you were to dissect us you would see that our internals are very different from yours. Our organs are bigger, our bones are thicker, our overall anatomy is completely different. To give you a better example, werewolf pregnancy lasts only five months.”
“Why only five months?”
“It is our normal gestation period.”
If my calculations were correct, werewolf pregnancy lasted twice the length of wolves but only half as long as that of humans. “Have the Rousseau’s always been werewolves?”
“Yes, the Rousseau’s are descendants from a long line of werewolves that dates back hundreds of years. Some of our descendants are still alive today. Our great-great-great uncle Jean Claude is still alive and he’s over five hundred years old. He currently lives in France with some other family members.”
Five hundred years old? “How old are you all, then?”
“We aren’t that old, a few years older than you, really.”
“I’m twenty-one.” Alexis grinned.
Of course, Kyran had told me that.
“Gage and Josephine are twenty-three, Simone is twenty-four, and I’m twenty-five. We aren’t part of the old ones, at least not yet. Perhaps we will be one day. But for now our bodies match our ages.”
I took a good look at each and every one of them. “You guys age, too?”
“We don’t exactly age like humans do. It takes years for us to age what a human ages in one year. See, for now our bodies match the ages we really are. Years from now our bodies will still be young when our ages state that we aren’t.”
“Oh, so it’s true that you are immortal?”
“We can live for many, many years, and we can be ageless. But the truth is we can die. We’re strong and powerful, but we can die just like you can.” This time it was Josephine who spoke. “It just takes us longer to die.”
“So you guys aren’t invincible?”
“Why? You plotting a way to get rid of us?” Alexis teased.
“No!”
“Alexis, quit teasing our guest.” Simone’s voice was full of humor.
“Does it hurt when you…when…you turn?”
“A little. It hurts the most the first time.”
“It hurts really bad. You feel like your body is going to tear you inside out and like your brain is going to pop straight out of your—”
“Gage! Avoid those comments around the dining table, please. You’re going to make her breakfast come back up.”
Gage shut his mouth when he was reprimanded by his older brother. “Sorry, Marjie.”
“I don’t really need details, Gage, but thanks for the info.”
He grinned and I smiled. He resembled a small child who had just been scolded for eating a cookie before dinner.
“Are you guys…repelled by religious paraphernalia?”
“No religious artifacts such as crosses, holy water, or Bible can harm us in any way.”
At first, I hadn’t wanted to ask questions because I didn’t want to seem impolite. But after Marquis gave me the green light, I couldn’t stop asking.
“Is it true wolfbane harms you guys in some way?”
“That is another urban legend. We aren’t directly, or indirectly, harmed by wolfbane.”
So it seems that the Internet is way off when they refer to having supposed “facts” about werewolves.
“Um…do you guys, like, lose your mind when you turn into werewolves?”
“We’re fully capable of rationalizing and using our brains to maximum human capacity when in our werewolf state. Only our bodies change. Our minds are not altered. But our physical needs may be greater when in our werewolf form.”
I made a mental note to remember that; you never know when it might come in handy.
“When you guys get hurt, do you exhibit the same injuries when you turn back into human form?”
“Yes, that is true.”
Good for me to know, then.
“I read on the Internet that werewolves have bloodlust just like vampires. Is that true?”
“Yes and no. Some werewolves do have bloodlust, the rest of us have a liking for blood but it is very mild.”
I must have had a confused look on my face because Alexis and Gage started to chuckle.
“Let’s see if we can try to explain.” Simone took one more bite of scrambled eggs, chewed, then swallowed before she actually opened her mouth to continue. “It is believed that half of the werewolf population does have bloodlust, while the other half suffers from very mild blood liking, which isn’t equivalent to bloodlust per se.”
“So, this blood liking thing means you guys eat people?” I certainly hoped not because if they did I was in big trouble. I wasn’t looking forward to becoming part of the breakfast menu.
“Oh gosh no! We don’t have that kind of blood liking symptoms. Ours is limited to hunting live animals at times, and that’s all. We do have a strong predatory instinct, which we use at full potential when hunting. The need to shift forms can be overwhelming if we ignore it, so we have to do it often.” I had to fight the urge to let out a sigh of relief. “Unfortunately there are others that do kill for enjoyment and for food. The bloodlust is a very powerful and painful force. Those not able to control it suffer much discomfort and the only way to stop this is by feeding.”
“So…huh, you mean to tell me that there are werewolves out there that suffer from uncontrollable bloodlust and therefore they kill humans for sport?”
“Not only for sport. They consume the flesh, bone, skin, tissue, muscles, and blood.”
I started to feel a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“And no one stops them?” I asked, sounding a little angry. But if my sudden outburst bothered them they didn’t show it.
“Werewolves like us always try to intervene.” Alexis’s gaze was glued to mine. “Our parents died in Iowa while we were trying to save someone’s life.”
Trying? Meaning they had not been successful.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s all right, Marjorie. Our family isn’t one of those that have inherited the bloodlust.”
“It’s inherited?” This was all so confusing to me.
“Yes, it can be inherited by linked bloodlines.”
I think things would have been better if I’d had a werewolf encyclopedia to read all the information myself. I pushed my plate aside, realizing that after this conversation was over I would probably end up vomiting my stomach’s contents in any of the upstairs bathrooms anyway, so why bother putting more food into it.
“Linked bloodlines?”
“In a way, we all have linked bloodlines. Our ancestors were bloodlust werewolves. The fact is that a thousand years ago, something changed and the new generations were born without this natural instinct to kill and consume human flesh. It’s allowed for others like us to coexist in a world where humans are at the top of the food chain. However, somewhere within our genes, that which made us man-eaters still resides and any one of us can have a child that turns into one of these creatures. Because our DNA is so unique, sometimes this process skips many generations until it reappears in one of our children. We never know when it’s going to happen, but unfortunately it does.”
“Man-eater?”
“It’s the name that was given to the bloodlust werewolves.”
“So what happens when a bloodlust child is born to a family that is not man-eaters?”
Marquis avoided eye contact with me and I started to feel my stomach swell like a balloon, threating to blow at any moment.
“If his or her parents are man-eaters, then that child will be safe. Things change if the parents are not.” At that point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the rest of his statement. “These births are very unfortunate because a normal life for this child won’t be possible. Unfortunately, the child grows bu
t knows nothing but pain and hunger. The bloodlust thrives inside him and only gets worse after the first change. Trying to control it is an effort. Imagine such a life for a child. Where it suffers with such ache and hunger that even breathing becomes excruciating for him.”
“So…how do the parents deal with it?”
The look on the faces of the Rousseau’s gave me all the answer I needed. Feeling sick, I started to rise from the chair, but Alexis’s hand on my shoulder stopped me.
“Not every family or pack opts for that option, Marjorie.” Alexis’s pleading eyes stopped me from running out of the kitchen in a screaming fit.
“The child is killed,” I murmured.
They looked at me for the longest time without saying a word. After several long and quiet minutes, Marquis finally nodded.
“In some cases the child is kept. But sooner or later the child grows and presents a problem, a serious one.”
“What kind of problem?” I knew the answer but I wanted to hear it from them.
“When a child like this grows, so does the bloodlust, and soon it starts to have uncontrollable cravings that become more powerful with the pull of the change. Eventually this will lead him or her to kill. And kill in a way you don’t want to begin to imagine, Marjorie. The killings will get out of control and many innocent lives will be lost because of this one being.”
Marquis’s elaboration was stunning to me. Just a week ago, I was living a normal life for a nineteen-year-old, going to college, hanging out with my friends, worrying about what outfit to wear the following day. In less than two weeks, I’d come to the startling realization that those were the least of my worries.
“When does the family usually know when this kid has the bloodlust?”
“There might be some minor symptoms before the change, but mostly the bloodlust grows out of control after the first initial change.” Marquis explained.
“And when does the first change happen?”
“Normally once we hit puberty, anywhere from nine to eleven years old.”
“How come it takes so long for that to happen?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I thought you guys are born with the ability to change.” Nothing I thought I knew was true. Talk about a wake-up call.
“No. That isn’t the case. We believe that once we hit puberty, whatever cells are dormant during the first years of our lives then become active and therefore trigger the first shift.”
“Okay, um…can this bloodlust you spoke about be controlled?”
“Man-eaters can learn to control the bloodlust eventually, but it’s not an easy process and it may take years for that to happen. Unfortunately, not many learn how to control it, and keep it under control, at all.”
“Packs are part of who you are, then?” I said, hoping to change the subject before my stomach exploded.
“Werewolf packs always have consisted of an alpha male, his mate, the trackers, the elders, and the betas. The strongest of bloodlines lay with the alphas, and in some cases the trackers, for they have the most important roles in the pack. The mating ritual is very important amongst our kind because this strengthens the bloodlines of each individual family and it also ensures the safety of offspring, for specific pack members are assigned to protect them in case something happens to the parents.
“The alpha status is mostly inherited from father to son, but there are exceptions to this rule. If a tracker, guard, or even a beta is strong enough to take on an alpha and win, then he would therefore inherit whatever territory and/or pack the alpha happens to lead at the time. However, not all packs are like ours. Some aren’t blood related at all. The rogue ones are almost always unrelated males with an overwhelming amount of testosterone and bloodlust running through their veins, which makes them all the more dangerous and completely unpredictable. The group we fought with in Iowa was such a group.”
Iowa and what happened there was definitely not a subject I wanted to discuss yet so I decided to change the subject. “If the alpha is driven from his territory, does that mean his mate is taken by the new alpha?”
“No. Werewolf couples are bonded for life, and only death can break that bond. If the alpha is killed, the bond is therefore broken and the female can choose another mate if she wants to.”
Marquis was very calm as he explained things to me and that made me wonder how many times he’d given this speech before. Had there been others aside from me? Had they sat and talked to that girl in Iowa like they did with me?
“What does bonded mean exactly?” I looked at Marquis and watched for any sign that would tell me he was lying. But the man didn’t even blink.
“It means that the male and female share a link, something like an invisible rope that ties them together and can’t be untied or broken, unless one or both die.”
My head was spinning with the overwhelming amount of new information webbing itself in my permanent memory box.
“Are you guys really allergic to silver?”
Marquis leaned against the chair’s backrest and folded both arms over his torso. “No, that is nothing but a myth,”
“It actually started circulating around after a werewolf in France was killed by a silver bullet. What killed him wasn’t the fact that the bullet was silver, but that it pierced his heart,” Gage chipped in.
I actually found that bit of information quite interesting.
“Is it true that when you guys die as a werewolf, you turn back into a human?” I asked Gage.
“No, that isn’t true. If we die as a werewolf, we stay that way, and vice versa. That’s one reason why we never bury our dead. We cremate them instead to get rid of the evidence. Can you imagine what would happen if a body of a dead werewolf in wolf form was discovered somewhere? We don’t exactly look like a normal wolf, do we?”
I shook my head. They didn’t look like any wolf I’d ever seen. Instead, they looked like a mixture of both human and wolf.
“With all this modern technology, we just can’t take the chance of being discovered, even after death. DNA evidence is a very powerful weapon nowadays. We can’t risk leaving anything behind that would yield incredible, mind-shattering results in a laboratory somewhere.” No wonder no evidence of their kind had ever been found. “You see, it takes a considerable amount of energy to change from one form to another. If you are dying or dead, you don’t have the energy needed to change back.” Gage continued.
“What about when you guys get hurt? Do you go to the doctor, hospital, or clinic?”
“No, we never do anything like that. That would be the same as putting ourselves on display. Our bodies constantly regenerate, so as soon as we are injured our bodies begin the healing process so we restore as rapidly as we get hurt. The only way we aren’t able to recover is by doing irreparable damage to our brains or our hearts. This is why our chest muscles are stronger than any other muscles, and our skulls are thicker than that of any human’s.”
“Um…that is surely a lot to take in.” I turned my attention back to Marquis. “Is any of that relevant to why you guys eat so much?” Everyone laughed.
“Yes, well, we use five times the energy of an average human athlete, so we have to consume triple the amount of calories and proteins to keep up with our unique metabolism.” Marquis responded.
That made sense to me, I mean, at least now I knew why they ate so much.
“At least you guys don’t eat people.” I blurted before I could think to stop myself.
Everyone remained quiet after I said that—and that bothered me. I was expecting some teasing retort from Gage, or at least Alexis, but they just continued eating as if I hadn’t said anything at all.
After the conversation I had with Marquis and Simone, I started to develop a very bothersome headache. Due to that, I asked if I could retire to Josephine’s bedroom for a while. They all agreed. After using the bathroom, I opened the door and found Alexis waiting for me in the hallway. Without a word, he pulled me toward
him, picked me up, and carried me to Josephine’s bedroom. He laid me on top of the bed and pulled the covers over me. Two seconds later the door of the bedroom closed behind him as he left me alone to ponder my thoughts.
So there were werewolves that got high on killing innocent people. How was I supposed to handle all of this? First, the Rousseau’s turn out to be werewolves. Second, my ideal image of a boyfriend tries to kill me. Third, I find out that there are good werewolves and there are bad werewolves. Go figure.
The Rousseau’s’ talk about the cannibalistic side to their so-called species was frightening. But I began to wonder whether they were being truthful about their family not eating humans. If they weren’t man-eaters, then who was roaming around my house? Who was responsible for the missing people and mauled animals? Were they lying to me in order to get me to trust them?
The sound of amused laughter drifted through the cracks of the closed bedroom door, forcing me away from my thoughts. The Rousseau’s weren’t monsters. How could I even think that? They had no choice in what they were born into. They were simply born like that. How could I even think that they were cold-blooded killers?
Throughout all of this thinking, I began to wonder where Kyran was. I hadn’t heard or seen him at all but I knew he was in the house; I could actually feel his presence. I still couldn’t understand what had happened to him the night before when he revealed his secret—or more like confirmed it—and trying to come up with an explanation was giving me a headache. Was he angry at me or the fact that I discovered what he was? Was that why he reacted the way he did? It still didn’t make sense to me. None of the other Rousseau’s reacted like psychotic lunatics. As a matter of fact, they seemed kind of relieved that I knew about the existence of werewolves.
Never in my young life had I imagined that the mythological world or the creatures of the crypto zoology list were real. But now that I was harshly awakened to the world of the unknown, I began to wonder what else was out there. If werewolves were real, then what did that make them? Where in the evolutionary chart did they fit in? Scientists believed humans evolved from ape-like creatures many thousands of years ago. Could that belief apply to werewolves? They appeared human on one side, but then the other was animal-like. Was there more to werewolves than science? Could it be possible that the existence of this species couldn’t be explained? Or did they evolve from one completely different and totally undiscovered subspecies of hybrids science knew nothing of?
Secrets of the Moon Page 25