I tended to hear phantom noises, thinking I was being watched or followed. Call me paranoid, but I was starting to believe I might want to take my safety seriously.
Plus, killing Deerling hadn’t stopped me from being haunted. I’d seen the burning woman twice in the woods outside Callum’s house while I was there. I didn’t chase her again, but whenever she appeared, I thought about my dream mother’s words.
You’re a killer, just like your father.
I shook off that awful thought and focused on the TV. The beautiful redheaded woman I’d seen at Deerling’s compound was seated in the center of a large U-shaped sofa, her six children divided around her. The little girl I had met briefly was snuggled up to her mother’s side holding a new, pristine teddy bear. She sucked her thumb and gave the interviewer a dead-eyed stare.
That kid still freaked me out.
I’d missed the beginning of the interview because they were already past introductions, and a variety of quotes were scrolling along the bottom of the screen. Behind the family were photos of what I assumed to be the interior of the house I’d seen them in. Dirty mattresses lined the floor, wedged together in small rooms with the windows blacked out.
“According to his pre-death confession, Timothy Deerling suggested you were responsible for turning him into a werewolf,” the reporter said. “Is that true?”
The woman, her name splashed across the screen as Bonnie-Jean Talbot, nodded solemnly. “You need to understand, it wasn’t malicious or intentional. It was an accident.”
They talked around the topic, likely because of the children, but I could see the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks. She’d bitten him during sex. I don’t know if she expected to draw blood. Maybe it was too close to the full moon. It didn’t matter; one bite was all it took.
An expert on supernaturally transmitted diseases (“The new STDs!”) came on to explain the lycanthropy gene, and though I was grateful they got the science right, it still made me mad they were placating their audience. Don’t worry, it’s very rare.
Timothy’s wife, Shannon, hadn’t given any interviews, but people were speculating wildly online about her child becoming a werewolf. It was possible, but unlikely. Shannon would need to have the same gene. It wouldn’t be long before a test was developed so people could figure out if they carried the gene. God help us.
Bonnie-Jean talked about Timothy before his change, as the sweet man she’d dated in college. But after her bite passed along the infection, he went crazy when he realized what she was and what she’d made him. “He wasn’t always like that. He didn’t know about werewolves until me, but once he started to show signs, I figured out what had happened. I wanted to help him. It’s not easy for those who turn as adults. In our culture you make the decision to become a wolf at an early age. Those turned by accident don’t get to adjust the same.” She sighed, stroking the orange hair of a boy on her left. He’d probably be old enough for the Awakening soon. I wondered what he’d decide. “He reacted like I’d signed his death warrant. He locked me up and wouldn’t let me leave. But he just kept coming back, saying I was in control of him, saying everything was my fault. He’d force me to…”
She looked at her children and her expression was so haunted it broke my heart. “He…punished me. Constantly. He said if we ever left him, he would kill us, and to prove it he would bring women back. Other wolves like me. He’d let me meet them before he killed them.” She started to cry, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “We tried to get out once and he stopped us. He made us move with him. He said if we ever tried to get help, he’d kill the kids first. He told me he would prove how devoted he was to God by using his own children as sacrifices. That God would wash him clean of the impurity if he spilled enough blood.” She was crying so hard the interviewer looked like she might call for a commercial cut. Bonnie-Jean was ignoring the tissue being held out for her.
“What do you have to say to the woman who exposed him, if she’s out there?”
I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if CNN somehow knew I was tuning in.
Bonnie-Jean took the tissue and wiped her eyes and