I shrug. “Okay.”
“Magic dangerous thing. You must never cast spell that come with price too heavy to pay. Understand?”
I nod, pretending to get what she’s saying.
“Good. Now close eyes, clear mind. Think only of paper.”
My eyes are closed, but my mind isn’t clear. Jasper pops into my head. He’s screaming and begging me to help him. He can’t be a wolf. It’s hard enough being him. Becoming an animal will tear his mind apart. Then there’s Larkin. I picture her trying to be strong. She says it’s cool to walk the earth on all fours. She’ll have the prettiest fur in the pack. But she wants a black collar. I imagine Grandmother horrified at the request and Larkin getting one anyway.
“Make paper float!” Oksana’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“All right! All right!” I say, trying again to clear my mind.
Grandmother pops into my head. When I think of her, anger creeps up my neck and settles in my brain. She’s been lying to me all these years. Pushing me to do things I didn’t understand while all that time she knew exactly what was waiting for me. It’s not fair. I didn’t ask for any of this.
“Candy? Paper not moving.”
“I can’t do this, Oksana. I know what’s at stake, but I just can’t. I don’t have it in me,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
“You can! You must!” she cries, throwing her hands up in the air. “You the best hope for your family and for rest of us. You must do this.”
“Oksana, please stop harassing my niece,” a strong female voice says.
I turn to see Aunt Claire standing in the doorway. Her red hair flows past the shoulders of her white designer jacket. She smiles with ruby-colored lips that could put any model on the planet to shame. I wonder if she gets fillers.
“Hi, Aunt Claire,” I say.
She closes the distance between us, wrapping me up in her arms and giving me a tight squeeze. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she says quietly. “Sorry I’m a day late. There were some problems at the company.”
I pull back from her embrace. I’m allergic to perfume, and Aunt Claire is practically oozing Chanel Eau de Parfum. The scent of it gives me a migraine.
“Miss McGregor, I not expect you,” Oksana says. Her voice is flat. The air in the room is suddenly very chilly.
“When a McGregor doesn’t show up at the McGregor Academy, they tend to let the head of the school board know.” Aunt Claire gives me a stern look. “Does your father know you aren’t at school today?”
“Uh. . .” I look at Oksana.
“Mr. McGregor know where daughter is.” My housekeeper is staring my aunt down, but my aunt doesn’t notice. Or if she does, she doesn’t care. I imagine it takes a lot more than a stare to get to her.
“Aunt Claire, I figured since it was my birthday, my dad would understand,” I say.
My aunt takes a deep breath and glances at the paper I couldn’t float. “As you approach your senior year, every missed day counts. Colleges look at those things.”
She’s right, but then again if I can’t break the curse, I could very well end up at a local community college. Hanging my head, I mutter what I know she wants to hear. “I’m sorry, Aunt Claire. I should have gone to school.”
“Well, since you aren’t sick, how about I take you shopping, and then maybe we can hit that new pizza place in town? What do you say, kiddo?” My aunt flashes a perfect set of teeth.
Teeth. Wolf teeth are sharp enough to tear flesh. I like my teeth. I spent three pivotal years in braces. I do not want canine teeth.
“Sure, sounds great,” I say.
Oksana shakes her head so hard it looks like her dentures might fall out. “But Candy—”
“Later, Oksana. I’ll try again later.”
Aunt Claire’s smile widens. She puts an arm around my shoulders and steers me out of the kitchen. “Come on, let’s go find some trouble to get into.”
I laugh. I don’t need to find trouble.
It always finds me.
CHAPTER TEN
“This place is lit,” I say, sliding into a booth.
Aunt Claire smiles and nods. Her phone buzzes continually with text messages. I take in the scenery while she frowns, fingers flying as she sends responses.
The new pizza place in the center of town has photos on all the walls of pizzerias from around the world. There’s a definite New York vibe with the interior being done in black and white. We sit in a prime section on the second floor, where the walls are lined with photos of Irish and Italian actors.
We have a clear view of the front door, which suddenly opens as Ryan Connelly walks in. A few other boys, equally good-looking and radiating confidence, trail behind him. I don’t recognize the other boys. There’s something about the way they talk to each other. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but there’s an air of familiarity as they laugh and talk. They almost seem like a pack. Connelly, with his perfect teeth and beautiful dark hair, smiles at the hostess making the entire restaurant light up. He fiddles with the silver whistle still hanging around his neck. Just as his group follows the waitress, he glances up in my direction. I slide down in the seat, my cheeks coloring. Did he see me? When I peek again, his group is gone.
“He’s pretty cute,” Aunt Claire says.
“What?”
Do I look like a deer in the headlights? Cause I feel like one . . .
“The young man with dark hair and a big smile—he’s cute.” She pauses, her hand hovering over her phone.
I cough to clear my throat. Do I tell her about how Ryan saved me in the woods? I don’t know. Magnus said not to trust her. Did she see Oksana teaching me about magic? Why can’t I sense anything from her? “He’s okay,” I say finally.
I open a menu and find at least thirty different types of pizzas. My mouth is watering over all the tasty options when a tall guy, who should be a model if he isn’t already, approaches us with a couple of glasses of water. He sets them down, avoids all eye contact, and hurries off without a word.
“This place is amazing,” I say.
“Yes, it turned out well,” Aunt Claire says, surveying the restaurant. Her menu is closed. Either she’s not eating, or she already knows what she wants.
“Did you happen to invest in this restaurant?” I ask.
She parts her blood-red lips, smiling without lifting her cheeks. “I did. The McGregors haven’t really invested in the food industry. I thought it might be time to diversify What do you think?”
“It’s amazing,” I say.
I’ll admit it: her owning the place takes some shine off it. I was really looking forward to a non-McGregor sponsored meal.
“So, should we talk about the hair or are we just going to ignore the red-headed elephant in the room?” Aunt Claire waves to the waiter, who literally runs to our table. She picks up her water glass and hands it to him without a word. He nods, takes it, and leaves.
My new hair is pulled back into a ponytail and covered by a scarf. It’s not my trendiest look, but I figured it would prevent awkward questions if I ran into anyone from school. “I was hoping no one would notice,” I say.
“Kind of hard not to notice that you went from a blonde to a redhead overnight.”
“More like in a matter of minutes.”
“What?” Aunt Claire sets her phone aside.
How do I ask her if she turns into a wolf every full moon? Hey auntie, do you walk on paws and want to rip peoples’ throats out once a month?
“You missed family dinner,” I say.
She drums her manicured nails on the table. “I did. I’ve been spending a lot of nights working in the lab. There have been some interesting developments regarding some of our research.”
“Well, some weird stuff went down. Then the clock hit midnight and my hair turned red.” I twist a few stray strands around my finger.
“The first time you see someone transition, it’s always strange. After a while—especially when you go through it yoursel
f—it begins to seem normal.” Aunt Claire turns back to her phone, leaving me to stare with wide eyes and an open mouth.
She glances up. “Please don’t look so surprised. Someone might wonder what we’re talking about.” Aunt Claire scans the room. I follow her gaze. “Someone is always watching, Candy. The McGregors are pillars of the community. With that comes the expectation that we will maintain certain standards and quality of character. At times, that is a struggle for some members of this family.”
In other words, don’t be an embarrassment like Uncle Magnus.
I catch the eye of a middle-aged couple across the room from us. They lower their eyes, suddenly engrossed in their menus.
“We have to protect our secret, so you must never talk about it without someone outside the family, do you understand?” Aunt Claire’s brown eyes bore into mine.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She swipes on her phone. “It’s not as bad as it might have looked. After a while, you don’t even feel the pain of turning.”
You’d think she was describing a root canal instead of a human becoming an animal.
“Okay,” I say weakly.
I clench my teeth together as the waiter returns and sets a new glass of water down in front of Aunt Claire. With his chiseled features and perfect physique, I have no idea why he’s waiting tables.
“Are you ready to order?” he asks.
“Yes, I think we are. Double peperoni with a hand-tossed crust, right?” she says to me.
I force a smile. My aunt knows my favorite food. I should be happy that someone cares enough to remember, but I can’t ignore the feeling it’s not a good thing. “That’s right.”
“Be right back with that,” the waiter says. His hands shake as he reaches for Aunt Claire’s menu.
When he’s gone, she clears her throat. “Being different isn’t so bad, Candy. Give it time. I think you’ll see that the benefits outweigh the bad.”
I chew on the straw in my water glass. “You mean the super human strength and the ability to heal fast? I’d trade it all for just being normal.”
“There’s no such thing as normal. There’s weak and there’s strong. You have to choose which you want to be.”
“Or I could break the curse.”
Aunt Claire’s head tilts to the right and her eyes crinkle at their corners. She pats my hand lightly. “Don’t you think if it could be broken, someone would have done it already?”
Oh, it’s cute you think you have a chance.
Aunt Claire doesn’t say those words, but I can see she’s thinking them. I bite my lip to keep from crying.
No one thinks I can break the curse. Maybe I really can’t.
She checks her phone again. “I can take you to a salon, and they can fix the hair. If you’d like,” she says.
“I think I’ll keep it. I could use a change.”
“Well, I do like being a redhead—or a ginger, as they call us now. What did your grandmother say about the hair?” Aunt Claire’s phone buzzes; she ignores it.
“She said it was a sign.”
“A sign?” Aunt Claire takes a sip of her water.
“Yeah, that I might be the one to break the curse.” I draw a deep breath. “But it’s probably not. It’s probably just some weird side effect or whatever.”
My aunt chokes on the water she just swallowed and coughs hard, her face turning beet-colored. Every waiter in the restaurant stops and stares in our direction. She drinks more water and gives a wave as if to say she’s fine. The waiters—all of them hot, young guys—resume their work.
This might just be the weirdest restaurant around.
Aunt Claire checks her lipstick in a metal napkin holder. “Sorry about that. Water just went down the wrong pipe.”
“Oh.”
She’s lying. While she was choking on water, Aunt Claire let her guard down for an instant, letting her fear show. She doesn’t want the curse broken.
Which means she’s no ally of mine.
“Candy, sweetheart, generation after generation has tried to break the curse and no one has ever succeeded.” My aunt gives me a patronizing smile. “You are a wonderful, bright girl, Candy, but if all of these other people—people with more skills and knowledge—couldn’t break the curse, do you think you can?”
I sit back on the bench, resisting the urge to fold my arms. “No.”
Aunt Claire waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t let anyone pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. We’ve survived for hundreds of years this way. Nothing has to change.”
Except for the blood lust that’s turning McGregors into murderers, everything is just fine. You’d think my aunt was talking about a bad hair day.
“You like being a wolf.”
She’s actively trying to undermine my confidence. It’s only fair I state the obvious. Come out and tell me the truth, I dare.
“Well, I don’t like the pain that comes with transitioning, but after the first five years, you hardly notice it.”
Five years? Jasper won’t be able to endure that.
I lean forward. “But you like being strong.”
Aunt Claire peruses the restaurant before she answers. “Well, there’s nothing that I can’t conquer, and I know that’s because I’m a wolf.” Her eyes narrow and there’s a faint yellow aura around her pupils. “Don’t listen to that silly housekeeper of yours. She’s neither a good witch, nor a good housekeeper. Your father bringing her here was an act of charity. He felt sorry for her after what happened to her family.”
“What happened to her family?” I ask.
“Let’s just say they stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.” Aunt Claire adjusts her suit jacket and folds her hands on the table. “Candy, you’ve always been a team player. Forget about the curse. Focus on your future. Personally, I can’t wait until you join the company. You are going to do great things.” Aunt Claire checks her phone again. “In fact, I think you should do an internship next summer. You can help me in the lab,”
“I’m not really the lab rat type.”
Aunt Claire grimaces. “Lab rats are experimented on. McGregors are hardly rats. You’d be my assistant. Did your father tell you we just remodeled the labs?”
“Nope. Dad doesn’t talk business with me.”
Or anything else for that matter.
Aunt Claire nods as if this is the answer she expected. “Well, the labs are now state-of-the-art. We have the best and most secure facilities in the country. Not even the military could get in there.”
I nod, only half-listening. Would the government turn us into rats if they knew what we are?
“Candy, come work with me. Our advancements in curing cancer are going to quadruple the company’s profits. Plus, it’ll look amazing on your college application when you apply to Wallerman.”
Wallerman College, a small business college only an hour from Sequim Falls. Gotta stay close, so I can come home to do my laundry and get chained up in the basement every full moon.
“Right. Wallerman,” I say.
There’s no art program at Wallerman.
And I had other plans for next summer. Plans that don’t include a lab coat and the smell of dead frogs.
Aunt Claire grins. “You are going to love working at the company. I started at the bottom, you know. Working from the ground up helps build character and appreciation. It’s the Irish way.”
“Speaking of the Irish, I was actually thinking I’d spend next summer in Europe if grandmother approves, of course. I was hoping to finally see Ireland. Maybe I can check out the original Darby’s hometown if there’s anything left of it.” I frown and scratch my nose. It always itches when I’m nervous.
“I see.” Aunt Claire drums her fingers again. “The McGregor Corporation is run by McGregors. For generations, we’ve been a family-run business.”
I sink down in my seat. “I know.”
But I want to fly to a faraway place and meet people who don’t judge me based o
n my last name. “But it’s my dream to travel and see the world. Sequim Falls isn’t exactly the most exciting place on earth,” I mumble.
“I’ve seen the world. You’re not missing much. Besides, do you really want to disappoint your father? He’s counting on you to take over for him someday. You can’t do that if you’re foregoing crucial steps in learning the business.” Aunt Claire taps her manicured nails on the metal edge.
Click. Click. Click. There goes the sound of your future leaving you behind, Candy.
“No, I don’t want to disappoint him.”
Aunt Claire folds her hands. “You have so much potential, Candy. I would hate to see you waste it by passing on good opportunities.”
My eyes study the gray speckled pattern of the table. So that’s my fate—a wolf trapped in Sequim Falls with no escape in sight.
Destiny sucks.
“Enough family guilt! I sound like my mother. You must be starving. Where is our pizza?” Aunt Claire scans the restaurant before standing up. “This wait time is ridiculous. I’m going to see about our food. Be right back.”
I nod, my appetite gone along with my dreams.
“Candy?” Ryan Connelly says.
Where did he come from? Seriously, how is he constantly materializing out of thin air?
I sit up, shoulders back, and flash my best smile. “Hi.”
“I thought that was you up here,” he says, sliding into the booth across from me.
“Yep, it’s me,” My fingers go to my hair. How am I going to explain this?
Ryan’s hands are on the table. If I stretched my pinky, I could touch his. A thrill runs through me. Am I drooling? Candy, be cool for once.
“You weren’t at school today and I figured maybe you were at home with your foot propped up. Is it broken?” Ryan asks.
My foot? The one that was broken but healed overnight because I’m a wolf?
“It turned out not to be so bad. Mostly, it’s just so sore.” My voice gets high at the end. I clear my throat, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“Really? You couldn’t put any weight on it, so I figured it was broken or maybe the ligaments were torn.” There’s real concern in his eyes.
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