I hadn’t recovered from Uncle Sam’s revelation… insane rant, rather, when my back hit the wall. I gasped against the shock and pain. My uncle had moved so fast I didn’t realize he’d attacked until he had my collar in his fists and was snarling at me.
Maybe it was because I was accustomed to his bouts of temper that I recovered from my shock so quickly and was able to think. He said Louisiana. Aunt Lydia mentioned New Orleans in our strange conversation when she’d called earlier. She told me to go there if something happened to her. Then she was dead. She hadn’t just been senselessly ranting after all. I was really afraid now. What was going on?
“I don’t understand,” was all I could get out.
Uncle Sam shoved me a little harder. “Lydia is dead because your mother got her involved in her shifter nonsense.”
“What the hell is a shifter?” I asked.
He grunted. “I told Lydia to tell you what you were when you were old enough and send you on your way, but she insisted on keeping you shielded from that world. Look what it got her. They found out where you were, and that’s why she’s dead.”
“Who found me? The shifters?” I couldn’t believe I was playing into this nonsense, but Uncle Sam seemed to believe the madness he was spewing. Maybe if I played along, he’d calm down.
He huffed, released me, and slammed his palm against the wall beside my head. I flinched, thinking it was me he hit for a second. He shoved his fingers through his hair, glanced at Aunt Lydia again, and turned back to me. There was unadulterated hatred gleaming in his eyes. “You’re a half-werewolf shifter, which is why I’ve always despised you. Your kind killed my parents when I was just a boy.”