Dead to the World

of New Year’s Day there hadn’t been a full moon. There were things that didn’t have to wait for the full moon. . . .
    The bad thing about learning about all the creatures that existed in the world besides us is that I could imagine that there were things that might swallow Jason in one gulp. Or a few bites.
    But I just couldn’t let myself think about that. Though I was still weeping, I made an effort to smile. “Thank you so much,” I said politely. “It was real nice of you to take the time to see me. I know you have things you need to do.”
    Crystal looked suspicious, but her uncle Calvin reached over and patted my hand, which seemed to surprise everyone, himself included.
    He walked me out to my car. The sky was clouding over, which made it feel colder, and the wind began to toss the bare branches of the large bushes planted around the yard. I recognized yellow bells (which the nursery calls forsythia), and spirea, and even a tulip tree. Around them would be planted jonquil bulbs, and iris—the same flowers that are in my grandmother’s yard, the same bushes that have grown in southern yards for generations. Right now everything looked bleak and sordid. In the spring, it would seem almost charming, picturesque; the decay of poverty gilded by Mother Nature.
    Two or three houses down the road, a man emerged from a shed behind his house, glanced our way, and did a double take. After a long moment, he loped back into his house. It was too far away to make out more of his features than thick pale hair, but his grace was phenomenal. The people out here more than disliked strangers; they seemed to be allergic to them.
    “That’s my house over there,” Calvin offered, pointing to a much more substantial home, small but foursquare, painted white quite recently. Everything was in good repair at Calvin Norris’s house. The driveway and parking area were clearly defined; the matching white toolshed stood rust-free on a neat concrete slab.
    I nodded. “It looks real nice,” I said in a voice that wasn’t too wobbly.
    “I want to make you an offer,” Calvin Norris said.
    I tried to look interested. I half turned to face him.
    “You’re a woman without protection now,” he said. “Your brother’s gone. I hope he comes back, but you don’t have no one to stand up for you while he’s missing.”
    There were a lot of things wrong with this speech, but I wasn’t in any mood to debate the shifter. He’d done me a large favor, getting Crystal to talk. I stood there in the cold wind and tried to look politely receptive.
    “If you need some place to hide, if you need someone to watch your back or defend you, I’ll be your man,” he said. His green and golden eyes met mine directly.
    I’ll tell you why I didn’t dismiss this with a snort: He wasn’t being superior about it. According to his mores, he was being as nice as he could be, extending a shield to me if I should need it. Of course he expected to “be my man” in every way, along with protecting me; but he wasn’t being lascivious in his manner, or offensively explicit. Calvin Norris was offering to incur injury for my sake. He meant it. That’s not something to get all snitty about.
    “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll remember you said that.”
    “I heard about you,” he said. “Shifters and Weres, they talk to each other. I hear you’re different.”
    “I am.” Regular men might have found my outer package attractive, but my inner package repelled them. If I ever began to get a swelled head, after the attention paid me by Eric, or Bill, or even Alcide, all I had to do was listen to the brains of some bar patrons to have my ego deflated. I clutched my old blue coat more closely around me. Like most of the two-natured, Calvin had a system that didn’t feel cold as intensely as my completely human metabolism did. “But my difference doesn’t lie in being two-natured, though I appreciate your, ah, kindness.” This was as close as I could come to asking him why he was so interested.
    “I know that.” He nodded in acknowledgment of my delicacy. “Actually, that makes you more . . . The thing is, here in Hotshot, we’ve inbred too much. You heard Crystal. She can only change at the moon, and frankly, even then she’s not full-powered.” He pointed at his own face. “My eyes can hardly pass for human. We need an infusion of new blood, new genes. You’re not two-natured, but you’re not exactly an ordinary woman. Ordinary women