First Full Moon

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First Full Moon Page 10

by Michelle Alstead


  The curse is a giant puzzle that needs to be solved one piece at a time.

  “Where’s the talisman?” I ask.

  “Candy, maybe you should listen to my mom. Too many McGregors have been lost. We don’t need to add you to the list.”

  I think of Jasper. He won’t survive the transition. And then there’s Larkin. With all her coolness, she’s one bad anxiety attack away from a seventy-two-hour hold. She’s won’t be able to handle the change either.

  “Where’s the talisman?” I ask again.

  “I don’t know. My sister was the last one to have it.”

  “What was she willing to sacrifice?” I ask.

  Magnus pounds his hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know.”

  He may not know, but someone else in the family might. Aunt Claire was missing from family dinner. She’s been to every one for the last year. So where was she?

  “And what about Aunt Claire? Is she a wolf too?”

  Magnus grabs the steering wheel. “Listen, Candy, I’m not supposed to say anything, but she’s the worst. Whatever you do—stay away from Claire.” He grabs my arm, his nails digging into my skin.

  “Okay! Let go!”

  “You can’t trust her.”

  “I got it, Magnus!”

  Just when I think the situation can’t possibly get worse, it does.

  “This family needs group therapy,” I mutter.

  Magnus puts the car in gear. “It’s time to get you home. I’ve said too much.”

  I say nothing as he gets back on the road. We pass the outskirts of the estate and enter a small residential neighborhood with split-level houses and people who probably don’t howl at the moon or try to eat their relatives. I close my eyes. Information overload. No more thinking.

  What feels like a minute later, Magnus pinches my arm. “Hey, Candy, wake up.”

  “Go away,” I say, not wanting to open my eyes.

  “You’re home.”

  “Oh.” I sit up. A ten-minute nap and I’m drooling onto my chin. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Yeah. Want me to see you in?”

  “No, the third-floor lights are on, which means Oksana is probably watching the Late Late Show.”

  I unfasten my seat belt and open the door.

  “Hey, Candy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s going to be okay.” Magnus smiles and gives me an encouraging nod.

  “Famous last words. Good night.” I climb out of the car and shut the door.

  Magnus leaves as soon I step onto the front porch. The house is unlocked, which is good because I lost my purse in the fire. Stepping inside, the place feels different, though I’m sure it’s me that’s changed. There’s a banging noise coming from down the hall. My sweaty feet stick to the marble floor as I make my way there. The hallway is dark save for the beam of light radiating from the crack under the kitchen door. Something heavy hits the floor; I rush forward at the sound, concerned Oksana has fallen off her step stool again. When I push the door open, I stop in my tracks.

  Our housekeeper twirls in a circle, waving her hands and humming. Her lack of coordination isn’t what causes my jaw to hit the floor. No, it’s the food suspended midair, dancing to the same beat as the music playing from an old boom box.

  She looks up and sees me.

  The food falls to the ground. I blink several times and take a deep breath. If this is a dream, it sure feels real.

  “Happy Birthday. You just in time for first magic lesson,” Oksana says.

  My housekeeper is a witch.

  I step into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind me. “I’m going to need therapy. Yep, lots and lots of therapy.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Turn around, Candy. Just head up to your room, shave this crazy hair off, and start over tomorrow.

  “I’m going to bed.” I spin around, hands reaching for the door.

  “No, stay here. I bake cake.” Oksana goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a cake dome. “Chocolate with raspberry.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  I’m starving actually, but there’s raw meat at my feet that makes me queasy.

  “Sixteenth birthday very special. Come, we eat.” She carries the cake to the table and holds a chair for me.

  “Oksana, the food was floating. There’s a rump roast on the floor,” I say, pointing at the floor. “That cannot be sanitary.”

  “Sometime I get bored with same old spells. Need challenge.” Oksana picks up the roast. “This be good for dogs.”

  She walks over to the back door and opens it. Yelling in Ukrainian, my housekeeper throws the meat outside. There’s barking and yelping as she kicks something and shuts the door. “Sticking mutts.”

  “I think you mean stinking,” I say, scratching my head. “We don’t have dogs.”

  “Eh. Der dogs. You not see.”

  And just like that there are dogs at our back door eating our Sunday dinner.

  Oksana has worked for us for a long time. Does my father know she’s a witch? Does he know what she does with the food?

  “Yes, child, father know what I am. He found me in village and bring me here.” Oksana goes to the sink and turns on the faucet.

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “You show everything on face. No surprises with you. You no play poker.”

  I’m surprised she mentioned her village. Oksana doesn’t talk about where she’s from or whether she has family. Once Larkin convinced me to offer up vodka from my dad’s secret stash in hopes of getting Oksana to talk. She drank the entire bottle and never said a word about her life before she came to stay with us. Honestly, I just figured she was a former Cold War spy hiding out in suburbia.

  But she’s not a spy. She’s a witch.

  “Where’s your family, Oksana? Are they like you?”

  “Family dead. Village destroyed.” She lathers her hands with harsh soap and scrubs like a surgeon.

  “You lost your entire family?”

  “Da.”

  “Was there a war or something?”

  “Yes, there was great war.” Oksana takes a heavy breath. “Many monsters in world.”

  “Are you going to tell me aliens are real? Because it’s been a really bad day, and I’m not sure I can handle that.”

  Especially if the aliens have tentacles and are squishy. I don’t do squishy.

  “Don’t know about aliens. But wolves attack village.”

  “Wolves? Like big dogs?” I ask hopefully. Please let it be rabid dogs.

  “Like humans who become animals every full moon.”

  My jaw hurts from falling open. I shouldn’t be surprised after the day I’ve had, but I am. “So you know, then.”

  Oksana nods. “Da.”

  My lips come together. Grandmother has rules. I suspect I’m breaking one right now.

  But do I care? Hmm. . . not so much anymore. Must be a perk of being cursed.

  She slams the faucet down, turning it off. “Your family has been wolves for hundred years. They bite others and recruit for pack. Nature of beast, da?”

  “Well, no one wants to be alone. Not even monsters, I guess,” I say.

  Ryan. Could he be into girls who walk on all fours and try to eat him once a month?

  I’m guessing not.

  My family turns people into bloodthirsty killing machines. I’d hoped they were better than that.

  I’ve never felt like I fit in, but now I feel like I’m standing outside a glass bubble, staring at strangers I once thought were family.

  Oksana wipes her hands with a paper towel. “You good person. You better than others. I meet many. I know.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  She points to my head. “Different.”

  “My grandmother says it’s a sign that I’ll be the one to break the curse,” I say.

  Oksana grabs a cloth, wiping the counter down with long strokes. “Eh, they call it curse.”

  �
��Well, it’s not exactly a blessing.” I rub my eyes. It must be late.

  “No, not blessing, but not curse.”

  “Then what would do you call it?”

  Oksana stops wiping. “I call it opportunity. You not know magic. You learn. Can’t break curse without.”

  Frizzy curls fall onto my face. I push them behind my ears. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?”

  I sigh loudly. “Learn magic. Break the curse. Have a life. All of the above.”

  “Who say?”

  “Grandmother.”

  Oksana tosses the cloth under the kitchen sink. “Alpha protect family.”

  “From whom?” I focus hard on her, trying to sense what she’s thinking and feeling.

  But I get zilch. Either my new power has failed me or my housekeeper is the Fort Knox of witches.

  “Candy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I very old witch. You not strong enough to get in head.” She taps the bun falling apart on her head. “But you could be. I teach.” She rubs her swollen knuckles.

  “I told you. My family is against me trying to break the curse.”

  She laughs. “You little Alpha. Choose for self, eh?”

  My fingers curl into fists. I could lie down and take the hand fate smacked me with or I could fight.

  What would my mother do?

  I don’t know. Because I don’t know my own mother. “The curse is ancient. It’s not like I have a real shot at breaking it.”

  Oksana lays her hands on the counter. “So that it? You get small kick in butt and you just lay down?”

  “See the hair? I left a blonde. Granted, I would have preferred a nice shade of brown, but now my hair is the color of a raging fire. And because bad hair isn’t enough, let’s just throw in a curse that’s going to make me a killing machine in about twenty-nine days. I might be able to handle that, but it’ll kill Jasper and mentally break Larkin. It’s more than just a kick in the butt. I’ve been knocked flat, and I have no idea how to get up!” I walk over to the table, grab the lid from the cake container, and dig my fingers into the soft dessert. Grabbing a handful, I wolf it down and lick my fingers.

  While there’s probably a mess all over my face, the cake is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted. I reach for more and Oksana smacks my hand.

  “Not wolf yet. Sit.”

  I slump into a chair, folding my arms on the table, and resting my chin. Oksana goes to the cupboard, grabbing a plate with blue sunflowers on it. Did my housekeeper pick out the plates? Or are they from a time when I had both a father and mother.

  She hands me the cake with a fork and sits down at the corner of the table to my left. “You break curse with my help.”

  “Thanks, but you shouldn’t get involved in all of this,” I reply with my mouth full. “Bad stuff happens to McGregors. You don’t want to any part of it.”

  “Some time things happen to us. Have no choice. Get dragged in.” Oksana studies me as I scoop more cake onto my plate.

  “You think accident I here and I witch? No! Fate bring me here. Help you. Help father.”

  “What do you mean help my father?”

  “Nothing. I mean nothing.”

  My stomach aches and the cake threatens to find its way back up. “I can’t reach my dad. Do you know where he is?”

  “No.”

  “Oksana, if a wolf bites a witch, it’s fatal.” I watch for her reaction.

  She only nods, shifting on her chair. “Da.”

  If I wasn’t sitting, I’d fall down. “You know and you’re still working for a wolf? Why?”

  Oksana folds her hands on the table. “You have real chance break curse. Hair sign of great power. With my help, we put an end to death and misery.”

  There is sadness in her eyes that she couldn’t hide, even with magic. My housekeeper has survived a war, lost her family, and still wants to fight.

  What’s my problem?

  “I’m sorry about your family, Oksana.” I put a hand on hers.

  She pats it. “No sorry. They not gone completely.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Oksana points to her chest. “Best of them live in me. They never far.” Her eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “Magic do great things. You do great things.”

  I nod, knowing there was never really any choice to make. If there’s a way to spare anyone else from this curse, I have to try.

  “Where do I start?”

  Oksana pushes my plate aside. “Much to come.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She rubs her rosy cheeks and puckers her lips before wiping imaginary crumbs off the table.

  “Oksana?”

  “There more to all this than breaking spell. Many people want stay wolves—”

  “Oh, I know. I met some in the woods. They were ready to tear me apart.”

  My housekeeper shakes her head. “No, you not know what to come. This much bigger than wolves and their tiny power.”

  A yawn escapes my lips. I don’t mean to be rude. I’ve just never been so tired in my whole life. “Right, evil people are coming for me.”

  “You not understand.”

  “I do. Every hero has her own odyssey. Makes sense I’d have to slay a dragon to break the curse.”

  “No dragon!’ Oksana slams a fist down on the table. “Very bad people come soon. Power attract power. You must fight war. You have to. Much more at stake than you and family. You no break curse. We all lose.” Her weathered face contorts with fear—a look I’ve never seen before.

  The windows are closed, the shades are drawn, but again I feel someone watching me—someone with intentions that make a cold shiver tear through my body.

  In a low voice that trembles along with my shoulders, I ask the question I don’t want an answer to. “What aren’t you saying, Oksana?”

  She pulls back, resting her hands on the apron covering her body. “That enough for one day. You go to bed. Sleep. Rest. Tomorrow I teach magic.”

  The fear is gone, hidden behind the wall she’s built to keep me out.

  “I have school tomorrow,” I say, standing up.

  “You miss one day. No big deal. Family own school.” Oksana gives a nod that says the discussion is over as she takes my plate and goes to the sink.

  I walk to the doorway, glancing back at the half-eaten birthday cake on the table. “Happy birthday to me,” I mutter making my way to my bedroom.

  My legs move slowly up the staircase. Each step is torture for my aching muscles. When I reach my bed, I take the box from underneath my pillow. Sitting cross-legged, I study it. The inlaid symbol on the lid is a circle in the center with a thread running through it creating a loop that overlaps on each side. It’s the Celtic symbol for family; I found the meaning on the Internet the day I discovered the box. Tracing the shape, I wonder if my mother is thinking about me. Does she wonder how I am? Does she wish she hadn’t left me? Or is she happy without me? A tear slips from my right eye, coasting down my cheek as my fingers find the line where the box should open. With all my might, I try to pry the pieces apart—desperate for some connection to the one person who shouldn’t have left me. But the box refuses to open; hiding secrets from a better time.

  I lay down, my head resting on my pillow with the box tucked in my arms.

  Tomorrow has to be better.

  ***

  “Wake up! Wake up! Much work to do!” Oksana yanks the curtains open. Sunlight floods my room.

  “What time is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

  “Time to be witch!” She smiles broadly. “Today you learn the ancient ways of people.”

  “Whose people?”

  “Yours.”

  “Oh.” I blink rapidly, fatigue weighing on me.

  “Get showered. Dressed. Eat meat. We get to work.” Oksana claps her hands together. She’s happy—too happy for what we’re about to do.

  The box rests on the edge of my bed. She sees it and crosses her arms over her
chest. “Where you find that?”

  I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “In my mother’s things.” I put the box in the bottom drawer of my night stand and stand up, stretching.

  “Oh.” Oksana turns away, heading for the door.

  “It won’t open, so I don’t know what’s inside,” I say. “Maybe it’s magically locked.”

  She stands in my doorway with her back to me. “Things meant to open, open in right time. Get moving. Much to do.”

  With that, Oksana walks away, hiding what I know is yet another secret.

  ***

  “What is that?” I ask, pointing to a large black book sitting on the kitchen counter. It’s very worn and smells of dirty socks.

  “My family’s spell book.” Oksana pats the book. “Every witch has book.” She pats her hair. “Or should, if they good. But we not start with book. No, we start with what’s inside here.” She points to her chest.

  “We’re starting with what you ate for breakfast?” I ask.

  The shower didn’t do much to revive me. I could have easily slept the day away.

  “No, magic come from heart. The stronger the heart, stronger the magic. Spells helpful, but it what behind words really matter.”

  It’s not the words that matter, it’s the intent. Grandmother’s voice echoes through my mind.

  “Uh, okay.” My mouth is dry. I reach for a glass of water, and Oksana smacks my hand.

  “Focus. No time to waste. Understand?”

  I rub my hand and frown. “It’s just a glass of water.” Why couldn’t I have just gotten an ugly sweater for my birthday? That would have been so much better.

  “See paper?” Oksana points to a sheet of blank paper on the counter.

  “Yep.”

  “Clear mind. Think of nothing but how you want paper to float.”

  “So I don’t need a spell to make the paper float? But I do need a spell to break the curse?”

  Magic is confusing, and we haven’t even gotten started yet.

  “Spells are for changing things not meant to be changed. That come with price. Your ancestor want change self, be like wolf, instead become wolf. That take sacrifice, which means blood plus powerful source, so she use full moon to draw power. Use magic inside you to make paper float. No change paper. No change you. No spell needed. Understand?”

 

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