Read Online Reveal (Cryptid Tales) by Brina Courtney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brina Courtney
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part cat?”
Panic starts to spread through me. What else don’t I know about myself? I take a lock of hair as if to examine it. It is sleeker than most of my friends’ hair and it has always been the darkest shade of black even though my mom is blonde.
“ I’m saying that we both have genetic similarities to a cat, yes. We’re parahumans, human genes mixed with animal. My eyes usually give me away which is why I wear colored contacts. I have yellow eyes, not normal in your average twenty year old guy. I also have an abnormal obsession with sushi.” Weird, I thought, me too.
“ How well did you know my dad? I mean you were only, what, like eight when he disappeared? Or do we have nine lives too?” Wouldn’t that be cool?
“ No, my dad and yours were really close. They both talked to Jeremy and found each other through him. They knew that they each had the ability to communicate with spirits so they had to trust each other. My dad was just teaching me how to channel spirit energy when your dad went missing. It really shook my dad up. He really hasn’t been the same since. I can only really see them. It’s only muffled whispers I hear, not full conversations. He stopped teaching me and as hard as my mom tried she really didn’t have the insight. She has most of the physical gifts.”
“ Such as…” now that I have him talking I don’t want him to stop. Partly because this was my history, the reason I am the way that I am and partly because his husky voice makes my skin tingle.
“ My mom, like many people in my tribe is a shape shifter. She can turn into a black house cat.” Whoa, and I thought I was weird.
“ We’re part of a small tribe in Texas called Mosi, meaning cat. Our type of cryptid goes by the same name. There’s only about twelve people left in the tribe. Most have the gift of shape shifting. My dad couldn’t shift, so they knew he had a different gift. When he was little he had a lot of imaginary friends, who weren’t so imaginary. His family quickly realized he was a spirit-talker. We always knew our heritage was of the cryptids, but until our fathers met, we didn’t know there were others out there.”
I still had unanswered questions so I pushed on, “But how did all this start? I mean this all sounds totally crazy.”
“ I know,” he said “but that is the way of our people. A hundred years ago a man from our tribe named Alloman lost his wife to disease. He was grief stricken and went to the tribe shaman for advice. The shaman suggested he drink the blood of a black cat in order to speak with his wife to get closure. But Alloman was greedy, he drank the blood of three cats, hoping he would see his wife again and keep her from the spirit world. After he drank the blood he was able to talk to her for a brief time. She told him to move on with his life and remarry. He married a woman, Chemoset and they had children. But he continued to drink the blood of black cats hoping to see his first wife again. Alloman and Chemoset’s children were all spirit-talkers and later down the family tree some could shift into the cats Alloman drank from. Hence all of us becoming cryptids.”
The way he told the story made it easy to believe him, but then something clicked. “Wait, does this mean we’re related?”
“ Probably not.”
YES! Thank you baby Jesus!
“ That shaman was part of an inner circle that all had ulterior motives. They wanted to make more cryptids. They probably suggested drinking black cat’s blood to hundreds of people, making them all cryptids like us, all over the country. Your dad did some research that suggested he was a descendant from a tribe nowhere near us, making it practically impossible for us to be related. Plus the bloodline has been so diluted throughout the years with cryptids marrying humans… my tribe is the only one of its kind left.”
“ What you do you mean?”
“ My tribe is the
Panic starts to spread through me. What else don’t I know about myself? I take a lock of hair as if to examine it. It is sleeker than most of my friends’ hair and it has always been the darkest shade of black even though my mom is blonde.
“ I’m saying that we both have genetic similarities to a cat, yes. We’re parahumans, human genes mixed with animal. My eyes usually give me away which is why I wear colored contacts. I have yellow eyes, not normal in your average twenty year old guy. I also have an abnormal obsession with sushi.” Weird, I thought, me too.
“ How well did you know my dad? I mean you were only, what, like eight when he disappeared? Or do we have nine lives too?” Wouldn’t that be cool?
“ No, my dad and yours were really close. They both talked to Jeremy and found each other through him. They knew that they each had the ability to communicate with spirits so they had to trust each other. My dad was just teaching me how to channel spirit energy when your dad went missing. It really shook my dad up. He really hasn’t been the same since. I can only really see them. It’s only muffled whispers I hear, not full conversations. He stopped teaching me and as hard as my mom tried she really didn’t have the insight. She has most of the physical gifts.”
“ Such as…” now that I have him talking I don’t want him to stop. Partly because this was my history, the reason I am the way that I am and partly because his husky voice makes my skin tingle.
“ My mom, like many people in my tribe is a shape shifter. She can turn into a black house cat.” Whoa, and I thought I was weird.
“ We’re part of a small tribe in Texas called Mosi, meaning cat. Our type of cryptid goes by the same name. There’s only about twelve people left in the tribe. Most have the gift of shape shifting. My dad couldn’t shift, so they knew he had a different gift. When he was little he had a lot of imaginary friends, who weren’t so imaginary. His family quickly realized he was a spirit-talker. We always knew our heritage was of the cryptids, but until our fathers met, we didn’t know there were others out there.”
I still had unanswered questions so I pushed on, “But how did all this start? I mean this all sounds totally crazy.”
“ I know,” he said “but that is the way of our people. A hundred years ago a man from our tribe named Alloman lost his wife to disease. He was grief stricken and went to the tribe shaman for advice. The shaman suggested he drink the blood of a black cat in order to speak with his wife to get closure. But Alloman was greedy, he drank the blood of three cats, hoping he would see his wife again and keep her from the spirit world. After he drank the blood he was able to talk to her for a brief time. She told him to move on with his life and remarry. He married a woman, Chemoset and they had children. But he continued to drink the blood of black cats hoping to see his first wife again. Alloman and Chemoset’s children were all spirit-talkers and later down the family tree some could shift into the cats Alloman drank from. Hence all of us becoming cryptids.”
The way he told the story made it easy to believe him, but then something clicked. “Wait, does this mean we’re related?”
“ Probably not.”
YES! Thank you baby Jesus!
“ That shaman was part of an inner circle that all had ulterior motives. They wanted to make more cryptids. They probably suggested drinking black cat’s blood to hundreds of people, making them all cryptids like us, all over the country. Your dad did some research that suggested he was a descendant from a tribe nowhere near us, making it practically impossible for us to be related. Plus the bloodline has been so diluted throughout the years with cryptids marrying humans… my tribe is the only one of its kind left.”
“ What you do you mean?”
“ My tribe is the
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