Page 33 of Property of Crypt Keeper

His voice dropped.

“I think she’s a shifter.”

I pushed off the wall, stepping closer to the bars despite the pull of the wards.

“And?” I pressed. Most shifters were notoriously protective of their young. They wouldn’t simply abandon them.

His jaw tightened.

“And I think she’s a Rougarou.”

The word settled into the space between us like something ancient. Something almost forgotten. I stared at him. Then let out a quiet breath.

“I didn’t think those actually existed,” I admitted. Not once during my research did I come across mention of a female Rougarou.

His eyes flickered, uncertain. “I’m thinking maybe they do.”

“Apparently,” I murmured. “But have you seen this in the child?”

“No. She only arrived the other day. After the full moon.”

“At her age, will she change on a full moon?” From what I’d gathered, Rougarous didn’t change on a full moon until puberty. Until then, they lived a life of a simple shifter.

“She shouldn’t, but…” He trailed off with an unsure shrug.

“Has she shifted?”

“Not yet, but she’s only five. Without guidance, many wolf shifters don’t have the mental and emotional capacity to change until they are closer to seven or eight, sometimes ten.”

In my mind, I ran through everything I knew. Every contact. Every piece of intel I’d recently gathered.

“They’re… localized,” I said slowly. “Rare. Almost impossible to track. Most of what I found was buried in folklore and regional records. Only in Louisiana and this area, primarily.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That tracks.”

I studied him more closely now.

“So, you really think the child is one of you,” I repeated.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but I know she’s something,” he explained. “And my gut says it’s that.”

I considered that. Then shook my head.

“No,” I said.

His eyes narrowed.

“No, what?”

“No female Rougarou,” I clarified. “Not in anything I’ve seen. No reports. No records. Nothing even hinted at it. Though even as I searched, the reports aren’t consistent. In the back of my mind, I still didn’t believe it even after our… encounter… in the swamp. I thought it was all simply varying legends that were really werewolves.”

That didn’t sit well with him. I could feel it.

“Your contacts?” he pressed. “Anything they said that maybe hinted at it being heard of or possible?”

“Nothing,” I confirmed. “And if it existed, I would’ve found something. I was thorough in my search.”

The stillness and quiet stretched. Then I tilted my head, studying him again.