Hot Blooded

and Ralph Lauren polo shirts. They were unrelated, but wore nearly
identical ultrashort, slightly gelled hairstyles, one a little blonder than the
other. The two were practically clones as far as she was concerned. Not only in
style choices, but in attitude and arrogance. She was well aware they'd only
signed up for this program because they thought it would give them four easy
credits. Or maybe they were both planning a masters thesis that would attempt to
debunk her profession.
    They wouldn't succeed.
    "So, how's the research coming?" she asked, turning her attention to the
eager pupil.
    "I found tons of stuff!" Carrie said, reaching for the notebook that was
never far from her side with one hand and flipping her expertly cut hair with
the other.
    "Yeah. Fairy tales and folklore," Toby sneered. "Nothing legitimate."
    "Folklore is what led us to the giant gorillas, Toby."
    "Here we go with the giant gorillas again."
    "Until scientists began taking the local legends seriously, no one believed
they existed, but they do. They'd been living in the jungles for centuries, and
only those natives who lived among them knew the truth. No one believed them,
just as no one believes people today when they see something strange and have
the nerve to tell someone about it."
    "Right."
    Carrie shot the boys a killing look, and opened her notebook to a page of
neatly typed text. "I've got reams of stuff here. Most of the sources include
legends about how to kill them with a silver bullet, but some take that a lot
further. They have to be decapitated and burned afterward."
    Jenny shot her a look. "Carrie, if we find a specimen we certainly won't be
looking for ways to kill it."
    "I figured—you know, just in case."
    Jenny moved closer, taking Carrie's notebook from her and carrying it to the
table. She grabbed a beignet from the tray of pastries on the table, filled an
empty china cup with fragrant, steaming coffee and flipped through pages.
    "To become a werewolf," she read.
    "Oh, great," Toby said. "Recipes."
    Jenny smiled a little, because it was close. " 'On the night of the dark
moon, or the third night of the full, betake thyself to a place far from the
haunts of man—deep in the forest. There, draw a circle no less than seven feet
in diameter, and within it draw another of three feet. Within the smaller
circle, erect a tripod of iron, and from it suspend a cauldron of iron, and fill
the cauldron with water taken from a stream in which three wolves have been seen
to drink. Build a fire beneath, and when the water boils, add to it any three of
the following herbs: blind bluff, devil's eye, bittersweet, devil's dung, beaver
poison or opium.' "
    "I daresay," Professor Hinkle remarked, "a few whiffs of the steam from that
brew might convince any of us we'd become a werewolf."
    Jenny almost gasped. Had the old sourpuss actually made a joke?
    "The only real ingredient in there is the opium," Toby said. "That other
stuff is made up."
    "Oh, you're dead wrong there," Jenny corrected. "These are folk names. Blind
bluff is poppy. Devil's eye is henbane. Bittersweet is solanum. Devil's dung is
aesophetida, named quite aptly, for its smell."
    "And beaver poison is hemlock," Carrie put in. "Keep reading, Professor Rose.
It's fascinating."
    She shrugged. "After that it says to strip naked and rub your body all over
with an ointment made from," she glanced at the page to find her place, "the fat
of a freshly killed feline, mixed with opium, camphor and anise seed."
    "Clever," the professor said. "The camphor would open the pores, allowing one
to absorb the opium more quickly."
    "Then 'wrap thy loins in the hide of a wolf, speak the charm and await the
advent of the unknown.' " She nodded. "How many of you have taken anthropology
classes?"
    All hands went up, including the professor's, though his came with a
sarcastic look.
    "Good. Now, think back and tell me what this recipe reminds you of."
    "Oh, oh, I know!" Carrie said. "It's just like what some shamans of various
cultures do. They ingest a hallucinogenic, and go on a journey into the other
realms. Shape-shifting is often a part of the experience."
    Jenny nodded. "Good. Any other similar examples?"
    Mike raised a reluctant hand, then looked at it sheepishly and spoke up. "The
so-called flying ointments used by witches?"
    "Bingo. Animal-fat base, fly agaric being the most commonly used active
ingredient. So what does this tell us about