Nana Anna was waiting for Millia on her porch, sitting in an old, worn out rocking chair when the dark haired woman drove up.  The elder witch held in her lap a big bag made of oriental carpet and the younger witch knew that it was filled with herbs gathered from the garden out back or from the woods not far from Anna's sagging farm house.  Anna  stood and made a bee line straight to the door of Millia's dirty jeep, having already locked up her house door.
"So we're going to Janie Butcher's house tonight, huh?” Millia said with a exhaustive sigh, hunched over the steering wheel.
Nana climbed into the jeep, quite spryly for a woman in her seventies.  Millia knew better than to ask if she needed help.  She knew the spry old thing would swat her hands and give her a frown. That's what she'd done last time.
The jeep quickly filled with lily-of-the-valley cologne, the kind bought from cheap dollar stores and that unmistakable old lady smell.  “Yes,” she said in a southern twang.  “Are you seeing the future now or did someone else telephone you today besides me?”
“The father found me out at school and wanted to talk.” Millia said worriedly.  “You know I can't afford to lose my job if I get caught doing this.”
Anna proudly lifted her head and straightened, giving a regal air.  “That is why we call ourselves midwives dear.  You're a midwife, not a witch.”
“Yeah right and pigs fly.”
Millia and Anna were witches and they both knew it.  It was a sore point though.  Witchcraft of any kind wasn't looked at too kindly.  Millia struggled to keep her witchcraft a well hidden secret lest she find herself in front of the principal with papers letting her go for “unprofessional conduct”.  
“The baby's father isn't too happy with his new in-laws apparently, ” Millia said to Anna while backing out the driveway onto a well worn out country road.  “She's not letting the girl out of the house.  She isn't even letting her go to school.  She's pulled her out and is home schooling her.”
“As is her right to do.”  the older witch supplied.
Silence filled the jeep as they drove out of Celina.  Anna didn't know what else to say to Millia about that one.  Anna knew plenty about Mrs. Clarice Butcher, the girl's mother.  She was a bitch with a capital B.  But not just any bitch, she was Alpha Bitch of the biggest, most prominent werewolf pack in all of the Upper Cumberland area.
Nana finally opened her mouth as they wound through the mountain way to Livingston.   “Millia.  I have something to tell you before we get there.”  Millia just stayed quiet and watched the curves, nodding her head as a sign she was listening.
“You need to keep your mouth shut once we're in the driveway.  This is an old family and things are done just a certain way.”  Anna grabbed the top of her bag really tight, more from emotion than the swaying of the jeep through the curves.
Millia looked over at Nana and cocked a curious eyebrow.  Nana was from an old Italian immigrant family and Millia couldn't imagine a family more old fashioned than that.  “What's so old fashioned about them?”
“Well, they aren't like us dear.  What ever you do, don't speak unless I tell you to.” Nana said very sternly to drive the point home.
“What are they going to do?  Bite my head off?” the younger witch said.
“Millia girl.  Listen to me carefully.  There are some things I have been keeping from you.  Things I didn't know for sure you could handle, but since I've sold my car, I don't have much choice but tell you.”  Nana squeezed the bag even tighter, looking at her weathered hands.  They were heavily deformed from arthritis and a life of farm labor.
“What does getting rid of your car have to do with anything?”
“Well, now that I don't have a car, you'll be driving me to some new places.  Places you have not been to before.”  she said with much caution.  “There are families here you have not met, conditions you've never seen.”
“What?  Do some of our clients have the plague or something?”  Millia asked while rolling her eyes.  There was nothing under the sun she had not either seen or read about and the cable networks even had shows for stuff like that these days.
“I'm being serious.”  She shook a wicked finger at her.  “You listen, young lady.  You have worked with me for four years.  It's time you paid closer attention to what I tell you.”
Millia's eyes opened wide and she pulled back her head in surprise.  “But I do listen to you, Nana.”  She wasn't expecting a scourging from her mentor yet.  Not over something like this.  Over messing up the ingredients in a spell, yes.  Messing up Nana's kitchen, yes.  Having a conversation in the car, no.
“Oh stop it, Millia.  Quit giving me that look.  I know you listen to me, but this is really important.”  Anna took in a deep breath over what she would say next.  “It is a shame that you were not raised with our kind and that you missed out on your lessons or else you would have learned this stuff already.”  She glanced from Millia, to the road and back to Millia.  “There are things, Millia.  Creatures in the world that we must work with.”
“You mean like dogs and cats?  I've already cast spells for cows.” Millia could tell Nana was getting emotional about this issue and she wanted to supply a helpful answer.
“No.  Bigger things.  Things like werewolves and shape shifters.”
Millia put on the breaks and pulled to the side of the road so she could safely look Anna in the face.  She put the jeep into park and turned in her seat.  Nana had never lied to her before on any subject; in fact, the woman was almost hurtful in her frankness.  There was no need for her to start making stuff up and lying to her now. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Millia.  Janie Butcher.  She's a werewolf.  As are her parents and her brother, her cousins and her aunts and uncles.”
Millia only looked at her in disbelief.  What in the world prompted Anna to come up with this smack was beyond her.  Maybe Anna was going insane, losing her mind in old age.  Maybe she was getting delusional or suffering from Alzheimer's.
Millia knew deep down that Anna couldn't be losing her mind.  Hereditary witches didn't get disease like that.  They died of old age or accidents, staying sharp as a tack to the very end.  Her brow furrowed as her mouth dropped open.  She was speechless.
“I know, I know.  Those things aren't supposed to exist anymore.”
“It's not that Anna.  They aren't supposed to exist at all.  That stuff is for story books to scare little children into behaving.”
Anna shook her head back and forth.  “No, Millia.  All the old stories and myths are based on some sort of truth.  These things exist and they have for as long as humans have shared the earth with them.”  Anna rubbed her face with a weary hand.  “If you had just been raised with us, you would have met them as children and never disbelieved.”
“You've met them?”  Millia demanded in a raised voice.  “You've seen them?”
“Yes, girl.  And you will to.  We are going to a den of werewolves tonight.”