“Nowadays, katana aren’t made the same way anymore, not unless a person seeks out a real artisan who abides by the old ways,” I explained.
“And how can you tell?” Brock asked, all alpha attitude temporarily absent.
“I took a class on it,” I answered with a shrug. “They have a different feel and look to them. There are lots of little tells if you know what you’re looking for. If you slide the grip off, you can see the maker’s marks. But never have I seen any with fox engravings.”
I hadn’t bothered to share our kitsune theory, and the tiny insignificant little fact that I’d sprouted two tails when I’d last shifted.
“Read the letter, Ev,” Cass prodded. “We need to know.”
Yeah, we did. There was nothing else in the box.
Sheathing the sword, I placed it on the table with infinite care. As if I were showing the warriors who’d owned the blade before me respect, because this was no pretty artifact made to adorn a living space. No, this sword had been used. I could tell. Itfeltlike a warrior’s blade, not a pretender’s, and there was a big difference between the two.
Snatching the flowery envelope from the table, my eyes misted over, only a little, as I read my name scrawled across the front in Gran’s script. I opened the envelope in a hurry, and pulled out the letter. It consisted of multiple pages.
My eyes scanned its contents in a flash, without actually reading everything Gran wrote, but enough to overwhelm me.
“I-I need to sit down,” I mumbled.
Brock, the ever-attentive baby daddy, rushed to slide a free chair under me, right before I collapsed into it.
“What is it, Eve?” Brock asked at the same time Cass spoke. “What’s going on, hon?”
I had no words. I simply stuck my hand out with the letter in it.
16Holy Mother of Lies
Brock and Cassreached for the letter at the same time, but Cass came away with it. My bestie was wily, even more so than a werewolf.
“I can read it,” Brock asserted.
“Not happening, bud. Get over it. Belinda loved me. You tried to steal her home,” Cass argued.
Brock mumbled something that sounded a whole lot like, “I didn’t even know demon imps could read,” but lucky for him Molly chose that moment to open the front door and distract Cass.
“What is it? What’s going on?” she asked, the second the door closed behind her.
Cass waved her over. “I’m about to read Gran’s letter and find out.”
Even in my semi-stupor, I couldn’t help but notice the way Molly’s hand kept going to her neck, and how she looked tired for someone who’d just woken up from a full night’s sleep. Her skin was unnaturally pale against her purple hair, almost as pale as a vampire’s.
I glared at the door, as if Croft were standing there instead of driving away.Vamps. I’d never found a single one I liked, except for Croft. He owed Gran and he had to feed to survive, but I still wasn’t finished with the issue, only tabling it.
Molly pulled her own chair out, wedging it between Cass’ and mine. Then Cass started to read and I forgot about everything. Despite the fact that Cass spoke in his deep, gravelly voice, his words conjured images of the grandmother who’d nurtured me, when no one else would.
“My dearest Evie,
If you’re reading this letter, then I’m dead. Regrettably, what I’m about to tell you will change your life, and burden you with a responsibility I never wished for you.
You know me, I’ve never been one to mince words, and I don’t suspect it makes a lick of sense to start doing it from the afterlife, or wherever I’ll be going. So I’m going to lay it out for you, plain and simple.
You never were a dud, my darling granddaughter. No matter what the rest of the short-sighted witches, and wizards, of the Black family had to say about it. I had to conceal your powers at birth to keep you safe, even though my heart shattered every time you came home crying for being teased.
You are a kitsune. I wish there were an easier way to tell you, but there isn’t. You’re the last of a rare and ancient breed of fox shapeshifters, unlike any other.”
I shot a quick glance at Brock, whose eyes were glued to Gran’s letter, as if from there he could extract all the explanations and answers his shocked expression desired.
I, on the other hand, was just reminding myself to breathe. There it was. Gran knew I was a kitsune the whole time.
