“We thought the line had died out with Ephraim,” Edward muttered; it sounded like he was talking to himself now. “That the genetic quirk which allowed the transmutation had been lost.…” He broke off and stared at me accusingly. “Your bad luck seems to get more potent every day. Do you realize that your insatiable pull for all things deadly was strong enough to recover a pack of mutant canines from extinction? If we could bottle your luck, we’d have a weapon of mass destruction on our hands.”
