June sat while Cordelia portioned out Chicken Marsala to each of them at the kitchen table. Cordelia gave her several servings, and despite the protein bars June had consumed, her mouth still watered. Her eyes almost watered too as she thought of how much weight she would gain tonight alone.

Cordelia sat at the opposite end of the table. “Where to even begin,” she said, then motioned to June to start eating. And so, while June ate, Cordelia lectured. Some of this long diatribe contained new information: demons were created from the blood of an original demon, who Cordelia described as an old dragon; Shifters were the only beings that could deal fatal injuries to them; and demons hated and fought with each other almost as much as they fought Shifters, which was about the only advantage Shifters had against them—teamwork makes the dream work, and all that.

But a lot of the lecture was information June had already pulled out of Cordelia in the past: demons ate human flesh because it made them stronger and prevented them from aging; demons could also shapeshift, but they transformed into hideous creatures; and how critical it was that no one know about Shifters, in general, and June and Cordelia, in particular.

June alternated between staring out of the kitchen windows at the darkening forest, and eating, until her brain felt like it had been injected with Novocain.

“But nothing has to change about my life, right?” June asked when it looked like Cordelia was finished.

“That really depends on you. There’s a reason we’re in the middle of nowhere, living a quiet life. As long as you don’t draw attention to yourself”—she paused to tilt her head and look down her nose at June accusingly—“then life should still be relatively normal.”

“Alright, I promise no one will see me when I’m Shifted,” June replied. “By the way, I can hear electronic devices. It took me a while to realize that the annoying noises I kept hearing were things like phones. But it’s pretty cool that I can hear that stuff, right?” She grinned proudly.

Cordelia only frowned. “If any demon learns we are here, then everyone you care about will die.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got it, no one can know about us being Shifters.”

“Correct. Which means Brendan won't know about us, right?” Cordelia put heavy emphasis on the last word.

“Yes,” June said, trying to hide her disappointment. Brendan would freak out if he knew what June could do. Granted, he’d also freak out if he knew there were Shifters in the world hunting down demons. June heard Abraham Lincoln, the rotund cat, walk into the family room and jump up on a sofa. A glance confirmed he was watching them with a curious look on his chubby face.

“Good.” Cordelia nodded. “Go ahead and start on your homework. And by the way, you’re coming to the lab with me tomorrow morning.”

June’s shoulders sagged. “But Brendan and I had plans to—“

“This isn’t a discussion. I want to keep a closer eye on you for a while. And there will be a small party with Mr. Moseley, Violet, and the others at the lab. I told them no cake or gifts, but I don’t expect they’ll honor my request.”

June didn’t know whether to scowl or smile. The desire to scowl arose because she had to go to her mom’s research facility. Gag. And Cordelia had to be a huge party-pooper and try to kill the desserts and gifts. But the urge to smile was fueled by her desire to see Mr. Moseley and Aunt Violet.

Before either expression could win the battle for control of June’s face, Cordelia spoke again. “Roger left a message for you and he’ll be thrilled to see you. I warned him not to sneak any candy, either.” She played the message on speakerphone.

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“Hey June-bug! Happy birthday to the smartest, prettiest girl in all of Seven Falls. You make sure your mom doesn’t go skimpin’ on the presents or the sweets. You let me know if she does and I’ll give her a stern talkin’ to. See ya soon!”

June grinned widely. Roger Moseley, the elderly security guard at Cordelia’s research facility, was the only person in the world who could get away with saying they were going to give Cordelia a “talkin’ to.” He also had a way of making June feel safe that had nothing to do with his role as a security guard. And he looked at her the same way Brendan did—with approval.

June strode away, but Cordelia spoke again. “There’s a gift card for you too. From Richard. It’s on the coffee table.”

June froze in the family room. Usually, Richard sent something more elaborate on her birthday. Maybe this year he wanted to see her instead? Her chest tightened but her heart swelled. “Just a gift card this year?” June tried to keep her voice level.

“Yes,” Cordelia replied softly, rubbing her necklace.

That was odd...normally Cordelia's voice was anything but soft whenever the topic of Richard came up. “Did he try to call or anything?” June asked, trying not to get her hopes up.

“You know he doesn’t do that.”

June deflated and walked past the gift card on the table without giving it a glance.

As she passed Abraham Lincoln, sprawled on the gray sofa, he now wore a sly grin. He meowed at her, but she also heard, “That went rather well, don’t you think?”

“It did,” June replied before nearly tripping in surprise. Did Abraham just speak to her? Cordelia hadn’t mentioned anything about talking to animals. She was rinsing the dishes and not paying attention to June and Abraham.

“Mom!” she yelled. “Is it normal that I can understand Abraham Lincoln?”

Cordelia paused her scrubbing and chuckled—another unusual response from her tonight. “Oh, yes, I forgot that part. But you can only communicate with the animal you Shift into. I guess you and Abraham will have a lot to discuss.” She went back to washing, smirking slightly.

June stared at Abraham with wide eyes. He met her gaze with a smug expression that only a spoiled house cat could manage.

“How do you understand so much? Have you always understood me?”

Abraham stretched luxuriously. “Yes, of course. I’m not an idiot.”

June raised an eyebrow. “You’ve just been ignoring me when I tell you not to scratch my bed, or chew my pencils?”

“Well, yes. I took them as mere suggestions, which I thought about then disregarded. Now how about some wet food?”

June realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it. Abraham was as stubborn and defiant as she’d always suspected. “You’ve had plenty already. You could use some time running through the woods instead. You look like a furry decorative pillow.”

Abraham looked at her with wide eyes, as if shocked at her comment.

Under normal circumstances, June would’ve had a thousand questions for him, but her head still spun from all the information Cordelia had revealed tonight. There would be time later to quiz him. She gave Abraham a quick, affectionate scratch on the neck and continued toward the steps. Abraham called after her, “Don’t be surprised if I choose to cough up a hairball on your decorative pillow while you are sleeping on it.”

She made a mental note to close her door that night before she went to bed. He might be clever, but he didn’t have thumbs and would be helpless against a doorknob.

When June reached her room, she opened her closet and looked at the items piled in the back corner, all still in their original packaging: from her fifth birthday, a laughing, vibrating, stuffed animal; from her ninth birthday, a set of paints and colored pencils; when she turned eleven, the large, elaborate chemistry set for kids; and from last year, the ornate chess set, still untouched. None of them matched with June’s interests at the time except the chess set. She supposed Richard just guessed at what she might like. He was bound to get one right, he's had fifteen chances, she thought. And though all the presents inside the bin had never seen a day of use, June looked at them often and wondered about the man who sent them.

As she lay down that night, her mind still churning through everything she’d heard, a realization hit her. While her dream of being the world’s best ornithologist had been ruined last night, talking to cats had appeared as a new skill, so she could be the world's best…what was a cat scientist called? The word wouldn’t come to her and she sighed in frustration—she would look it up in the morning.

Then again, there was the whole Shifting is a power meant for killing demons issue—she would have to decide whether to embrace it, or to run and hide from it, like Cordelia had. If she embraced it, she would have to help people. Well sort of help people, indirectly at least. After all, if she didn’t use her abilities to hunt demons, more innocent people would probably get eaten, right? Were they really innocent though? Or were they mostly scorpions? She knew what Brendan would say. And she knew what Cordelia would say. The thought of being like Cordelia left a bitter taste in her mouth as she drifted off to sleep.