"No, they weren't." Oleander said, still looking over Lauren's shoulder at the photograph. He had a strange sort of expression on his face, calm, and yet very different from his usual gaze. "That came from my dad. It's about the only thing that did."
"The curse goes down through blood, but it's more like, I don't know, you're more likely to have heart problems if your uncle and granddad had heart problems?" Oleander said. He moved away from the picture now, on safer footing as he explained how werewolves worked. He unzipped the anorak and hung it on a hook by the door, left only in jeans and a tight t-shirt. "If you have the blood of the wolf, you might Change... if something provokes it. Took a brick to the head for me."
"But no, no one else in my family ever had the blood of the wolf." Oleander said, leaving so many questions unanswered. Or perhaps merely unsaid. Four siblings, all with different fathers, of whom only Oleander's blood carried whatever it was turned him into a monster. And while there was a picture of his brother and sisters, his mother was conspicious by her absence.
"Do you want to stay the day here?" Oleander said, looking out across his one-room apartment and wondering much the same as Lauren. Finding a different subject of conversation than their screwed-up family life seemed a good idea. "Or...?"