Pride (Shifters #3)(69)

Blackwell scowled, and I couldn’t help grinning. The source of his irritation was obvious, and he wasn’t the only one suffering from it. He was no doubt wondering how many bastards he’d sired from whatever human women he’d known before conquering Mrs. Blackwell’s heart and bed.
Any one of us could have put his mind at ease about that one, but no one bothered, because he was being a royal pain in the ass. But the fact of the matter was that while human-werecat breeding was now considered possible, it was also considered very rare.
Over the past several hundred years, werecat toms who had no shot at marrying a dam and starting a family had consoled themselves with human women willing to share their company and their beds. Dr. Eames’s theory held that a rare few of those union  s resulted in the birth of a human baby carrying that mysterious recessive gene, which was then passed on to the next generation.
In fact, I knew of at least one tom several years back whose ex-girlfriend claimed rather loudly that he was the father of her child. He assumed she was lying, naturally, and dumped her for cheating on him. And rumor has it that since Dr. Eames’s discovery, he’s been trying to get back in touch with that woman to find out the truth.
That poor tom was facing some serious problems, but Paul Blackwell likely had nothing to worry about. However, just in case, every tom in the country had recently been told in no uncertain terms to either buy stock in Trojans or get familiar with the concept of celibacy. 
Considering that most of them couldn’t even spell celibacy, the popular choice was pretty obvious.
Blackwell’s scowl deepened, and he crossed thin, wrinkled hands over his chest. “It still sounds suspicious to me, but for the sake of expediency, I’m willing to move on.”
“Thank you.” Michael’s gaze met mine, and a grin flickered across his professional expression. “Anyway, what they found in Kaci’s blood sample was not one, but two of these recessive genes.”
My uncle leaned forward, drawing all eyes his way. “Which means…?”
“Which means she got one from each of her parents.”
“So she’s not a stray?” Malone asked, smirking at me from across the table. I smiled sweetly back at him because I was starting to see where this little detour was going, and the destination was worth admitting I was wrong. Way worth it.
Because Malone was wrong, too.
Michael shook his head eagerly. “No, she’s not. Her parents were human, but they both carried the recessive werecat gene, which means that somewhere in each of their family trees—perhaps generations back—is one of us.” He glanced around, beaming at each of us individually, looking for some spark of understanding. My father smiled, but no one else seemed to get it. And to be fair, my father had probably gotten the news—and thus the explanation—straight from Dr. Carver himself.
“Don’t you see?” Michael demanded, his voice rising in excitement. “This was bound to happen eventually. It probably already has happened. The human authorities would never have gotten it straightened out, and we would probably have attributed it to an attack by a stray, just like we did in Kaci’s case.”
My uncle’s eyebrows shot up, confusion and eagerness battling for space in his expression. “Attributed what to an attack by a stray?”
I sighed. “Michael, I don’t think they understand about dominant and recessive alleles.”
For a moment my brother looked stunned, as if surprised that the confusion could be attributed to something so simple. Then he smiled. “Of course.” He closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. “Okay, this is a bit simplistic, but if a person inherits the gene for blue eyes from one parent and the gene for brown eyes from the other, he’s going to get brown eyes, because the gene for brown eyes is dominant, and the gene for blue eyes is recessive. Brown eyes sort of trump blue.”
“So how did Jace wind up with blue eyes?” Blackwell asked, and Malone frowned, displeased by the indirect reference to his wife’s first husband.
Michael’s smile broadened. “I’m glad you asked that. Jace inherited the recessive gene for blue eyes from both his mother and his father, so there was no dominant gene to override the blue. And bear with me, these terms are all wrong.”
Blackwell waved off his apology; we were all fine with his terminology. “So what you’re saying is that the little tabby got two recessive werecat genes just like Jace got two blue-eye genes?”
“Sort of. There are actually more than two genes responsible. And I don’t think genes is even the right word here. But basically…yes.”
Enthusiasm bubbled inside my chest, tightening it so that I could barely breathe. I couldn’t wait any longer. They were dragging it out, and I wanted everyone else to be as excited by this as Michael and I were. “But instead of getting blue eyes, she got to be a werecat!”
For a moment there was only silence as everyone stared at me. Except Michael, who glared at me beneath furrowed eyebrows. Apparently he’d wanted to make the big announcement himself.
Uncle Rick was the first to speak. “Wait, let me see if I understand this correctly. Kaci’s parents were both human, but because they each gave her a recessive werecat gene…she’s one of us? A werecat born to completely human parents?”I opened my mouth to answer, but Michael beat me to it, beaming. “Yes.”
“Other than being born to two humans, she’s just like one of us,” I said, glancing around the table in excitement, in spite of the early hour. “At puberty she experienced her first Shift, and since she had no idea what had happened to her, she didn’t understand that she could Shift back, much less how to do it. She’s evidently been in cat form ever since.”
“If all this is true—” Paul Blackwell left that if hanging in the air like a cloud of poison gas “—why wasn’t her sister one of us? The sister is older, right? So she should have gone through puberty before Kaci.”
Everyone looked to Michael for an explanation, as if they’d been wondering that same thing.
My brother shrugged. “The sister didn’t get both recessive genes. She might not have gotten either of them, in fact. Regardless, she clearly wasn’t one of us.”
“So what about the stray who attacked the sister and mother?” Uncle Rick sipped from an early-morning mug of coffee, which I was seriously starting to covet. “Was that just a coincidence?”
The stray who…?
Oh, shit. My eyes closed as comprehension settled through me, pinning me to my chair with a devastating weight. “There was no stray.”
Someone on my left moaned, and my head turned toward the sound even as my eyes opened. I was astounded to find myself looking at my father, whose face registered more shock and horror than I’d ever seen on it in my entire life. He’d clearly come to the same conclusion I had, but based on the confused expressions around us, no one else had arrived at that point yet.
“Kaci killed them.” My father said it because I couldn’t. I couldn’t make myself voice such a statement, even though I had no doubt of its accuracy.
“Nooooo.” Michael sat back in his chair, stunned.
“She didn’t do it on purpose.” Desperation to defend her made me break my horrified silence. “She couldn’t have. Put yourself in her place. She’s just turned into a huge cat—out of the clear blue sky—and has no idea what’s happening to her. She’s terrified and in horrible physical pain. Remember how badly it hurts those first few times?”
What was I thinking? No one else in the room was close enough to puberty to remember what a first Shift felt like!
“Anyway, it hurts like hel—like nothing you’ve ever felt, even though you know what to expect. Imagine if you have no idea what’s coming!” No one spoke, so I continued. “So there she is, suddenly covered in fur, swishing a tail she shouldn’t have, and before she’s even recovered from the physical trauma she’s smacked over the head with instincts she can’t possibly understand. Especially considering how badly her mom and sister were probably freaking out.” 
My hands shook with the thought of what she’d been through, and with fear for her life as the consequence.
“Faythe…” Uncle Rick’s hand covered my fist where it lay on the table. He was trying to calm me, but it didn’t work. Nothing could.
“I’m just trying to make sure everyone understands. She didn’t do this on purpose. She couldn’t have. She had no idea what she was doing.”
“We know.” My father leaned forward, intruding on Michael’s personal space to get closer to me. “It’s okay. We know she didn’t mean to. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her.”
“She’s only thirteen…” I trailed off as tears formed in my eyes, then rolled down my cheeks. I pulled my fist away from my uncle to wipe at the moisture on my face, too horrified for Kaci—not to mention her mother and sister—to worry about how weak my tears probably made me look.
Calvin Malone cleared his throat, and I looked his way through blurry vision. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said, and I thought I’d die from the shock of him agreeing with me. “I can’t imagine anyone here holding her responsible for her actions, considering what she was going through at the time.”