I glanced at Sawyer, who was still sniffing everything. "Like him?"
"Not a skinwalker. No." I didn't ask how she knew what Sawyer was. I'm sure they had some kind of witch radar. "Benandanti can only shift by bathing in a moon-drenched lake. When I fight our fight, I will descend to the underworld through the water."
My confusion must have shown because she elaborated. "A benandanti is a werewolf who leaves behind its human form when she descends to the underworld to battle the wicked."
Sawyer trotted over and sat in front of Carla, staring into her face as if she were a long-lost friend. Considering what she'd just revealed, perhaps she was.
"I thought the wicked were on earth," I said. "The Nephilim."
"The Nephilim are the offspring of the greatest evil ever known, the Grigori. In the Bible, they're often referred to as the wicked. There have been times over the centuries when the Grigori have tried to break free."
"But a benandanti has always stopped them?"
"Thus far."
"What would happen if the Grigori succeeded?"
"It is written, Within the kingdom of the beast will once again be a mingling of men and demons."
I got a shiver. There was so much I didn't know. I should probably take a course. At least buy a copy of Doomsday for Dummies.
"Where was this written?"
"The Book of Daniel."
A copy of The Bible for Dummies probably wouldn't be wasted, either.
"Kingdom of the beast means the Antichrist," I murmured. Whoever that was this week.
"During the great tribulation, that period of chaos and immense suffering, the gates of Tartarus, the pit of hell, will be opened, and the Grigori unleashed once again upon the world."
"How will they be opened?"
"If we knew that, we might know how to stop them."
"And that would never do," I muttered. "Heaven forbid that we're one step ahead of the bad guys instead of one step behind for a change."
"Everything will work out. Have faith." Her lips curved and she glanced at Sawyer. "I plan to."
Carla was right. Faith was a big part of our arsenal. If we didn't believe in the promise that we would eventually win this war, it was likely the federation wouldn't survive.
"What will the Grigori do when they're released?" I asked.
"A clear sign of the end times will be when the fallen angels once again mate with man and produce a legion of Nephilim."
Legion. Another word for army. Swell. We were already outnumbered. What in hell was I going to do when there was an army marching against me? I guess I'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.
"So you only become a werewolf when you descend to the underworld to fight the Grigori?" I asked, and Carla nodded. "That happen a lot?"
"In my lifetime, not at all." Her smiled faded. "But I can feel it coming."
"You can feel it?"
"Can't you? There's a storm waiting just over the horizon."
I glanced at the window, remembering the roiling clouds in the west and Ruthie's words. "Literally or figuratively?"
"Both. When the end of days approaches, the weather reflects the chaos that threatens the earth. In the past few years, the weather has been very unruly."
"Global warming," I murmured.
"Can't explain all of the strange occurrences. Certainly the thousands upon thousands of broken temperature records, the melting of the polar ice cap, the extensive flooding, can be rationalized that way. But what about the tornado in New York City, the cyclone in Iran, the snow in South Africa? And, of course, Katrina."
"Katrina? You're blaming that on the approach of Doomsday?"
"What else should I blame it on?"
"Don't you think building a city below sea level is kind of asking for it?"
"Except they've never gotten 'it' before. How many hurricanes have shifted at the last minute and missed them.' How many times has New Orleans been threatened with extinction and gotten nothing but a gentle rain? It's always been theorized in my circles"—which I interpreted to mean witch circles—"that the magic there is what kept the city safe."
"Magic," I repeated. "Voodoo?"
Carla nodded. "Voodoo is all about balance, and ob-viously the world's become extremely unbalanced. I don't think they were able to keep things stable."
"You're blaming Katrina on a lack of stability brought about by the failure of voodoo magic?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
I could quote statistics, if I knew them, but it wouldn't do any good. Carla believed the weird weather was a portant of Doomsday, and who was I to argue?
Doomsday would be back. All I could do was try and stay alive long enough for the federation to replenish their ranks so they'd be able to fight. That I'd be dead when all this happened didn't seem so bad anymore.
"Were you born with magic or is it something you . . ."—I spread my hands—"learned later?"
Carta's smile returned. "What you're really asking is if I took my magic?"
There was another way to become a witch—the way Sawyer's mother had become one—by killing someone you loved. When I'd called her an evil spirit bitch, I'd actually been practicing restraint.