First Full Moon

by Michelle Alstead

  “My phone was lost in the fire.”

  Larkin stands up. “I’ll call Glenda. She’ll get you a new one.”

  I smile. My dad’s secretary is magic—there’s almost nothing she can’t fix. “Thanks.”

  “My dad has a closet that keeps off-limits even from my mom. There might be something in there that will help us,” Bennett says.

  “Maybe the talisman is in there,” I say hopefully.

  “That would be too easy,” Larkin says.

  “Right.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll work with Oksana. Maybe she has some answers.”

  “Maybe she knows what we’ll have to give up,” Bennett says.

  “It should be me,” Jasper says, getting to his feet.

  We all turn to him, but Larkin is the one to say what we’re thinking.

  “What, Jas?”

  “If we need to kill someone to break the curse, it should be me. I’m the weakest one.” He shoves his chew back into his pant pocket, moving toward the door. “Things are complicated in my head. It makes life harder for me and everyone around me.”

  “You’re not the weak one,” Bennett says.

  “No, you’re not. You’re the strongest one,” I agree.

  Jasper wrinkles his face. “How do you figure?”

  Larkin speaks up. “Because you’re the only one among us with the strength to always speak the truth.”

  “Yeah, what she said,” I say.

  Bennett walks over to him and holds out a hand. “Come on, man. You can help me break into my dad’s personal space.”

  “I don’t know.” Jasper follows Bennett out the door. “Can we stop by McDonald’s on the way? I’m hungry for chicken nuggets.”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “Okay, I’m in.”

  When they’re gone, Larkin sits down on the bed next to me. “Bummer about being the chosen one, huh?”

  “I am not the chosen anything.”

  “Kind of seems that way. It’s a big load to carry.”

  “I’m fine, Lark.”

  “You can’t do this alone.”

  “I’m not. I’ve got you jerks.”

  “But maybe we aren’t enough.” She draws a slow breath and I know where she’s going next. “If your mom is a witch, maybe she could help us.

  “If she wanted to help, she’d be here.”

  “Right.”

  “I overheard Claire talking. She’s looking for my dad.”

  “Why?”

  “I think she wants the family spell book.”

  “But she’s a wolf, why would she want it?”

  “If she has it, we can’t break the curse.” I get up, trying to summon some inner strength, but I am beyond tired.

  Larkin stands up too. “Why didn’t you tell Bennett?”

  “I didn’t want to worry him. You know how fragile he is.” I grin.

  “Yeah, he’s a total wuss.”

  “I should get to work.” I move toward the door.

  “I’ll come with. I mean I love the guys but you and I are ride or die, right?” Larkin gives me a small smile.

  “Well, I am the Willow to your Buffy,” I reply.

  She laughs, standing up. “Come on, your destiny awaits.” Taking me by the arm, Larkin leads me from the room.

  We make our way quietly down the hall to the stairs leading to the first floor.

  “Has Oksana taught you anything so far?” Larkin asks.

  “No, she tried to show me how to float a piece of paper, but that was a bust, and then Claire showed up.” I groan. “And now I realize she was just distracting me.”

  No magical training means I’ll be even less likely to break the curse. Claire sucks.

  “Float a piece of paper?” Larkin says. “That sounds like Geometry. When in real life are you ever going to need to do either?”

  “Hopefully never.” I draw a deep breath.

  We stand outside the kitchen.

  “Come on, Willow. Let’s get our magic on.” Larkin walks into the kitchen, leaving me no choice but to follow.

  “You late,” Oksana says, with one hand on her hip and the other on the counter. There’s a stack of blank white paper next to her hand.

  “Uh . . .” I shrug and look at Larkin, who also shrugs.

  “Dat woman not good. She cheat nature. Use perfume to hide stink of death.” Oksana shakes a finger at us. “Humans not meant to live beyond natural life. Cause wars, earthquakes, and all dat. Nature take lives to make up for time being stolen.”

  “Does she mean Claire, or is she referring to me?” Larkin asks.

  “Claire . . . I think,” I say.

  Oksana does have a habit of saying anyone who wears too much black is aligned with the devil.

  “I’m ready for you to teach me,” I say with a plastic smile.

  “Oh! You think it that easy? You just come back, and I put work aside to teach you! You left!” Oksana shakes a finger at me.

  Larkin moves to my leftover birthday cake. “Is this cake? I could go for some cake,” Larkin says.

  “Don’t poke the bear,” I hiss. “Oksana, you’re right about Claire. She’s not as nice as she seems.”

  “And?” Oksana’s face is glum.

  “And I was wrong to leave when I should have been working with you. I . . . we really need your help.” I flash a bigger smile, hoping that it softens her a little.

  “Yeah,” Larkin says, “if you don’t help Candy, we’re all doomed to walk the earth on all fours every full moon. Personally, I’m not an outdoorsy person. The last thing I want is to howl at the moon in my birthday suit. Know what I mean?” Larkin smiles at Oksana.

  “You get brains in family,” Oksana says, pointing at me.

  “Yes, she got the brains and I got the charm,” Larkin replies. “So, are we going to do this, or am I going home to Google witchcraft?”

  Oksana’s eyebrows go up. She motions to the paper. “You float paper.”

  “Seriously? Paper?” Larkin says. “Can’t we go find a guy that’s a really big jerk and turn him into a toad?”

  Oksana’s pink cheeks take on a crimson color. “Float paper, control elements. Control elements, control nature. Little steps. No jokes.”

  “Who says I was kidding?” Larkin winks at me.

  I rub my eyes, which are tired and itchy. “Okay, I’ll start with the paper.”

  “Float papers.” Oksana points a chubby finger at the counter. “More use magic, stronger become.”

  “Yeah, all right.” I take a few deep breaths. Staring at the paper, I will it to move.

  Nothing happens.

  “Clear mind. Focus. Paper will move,” Oksana says.

  Larkin hops up on the counter to my left. She yawns and checks her watch.

  “You’re not helping,” I say to her.

  “Sorry. It’s like watching water boil, except at least that’s a physical reaction and this is just boring.” Larkin chews her gum.

  “Clear mind, Candy,” Oksana says.

  “I’m trying.” Sweat forms on my upper lip. The harder I focus on the paper, the more I sweat.

  Larkin pops a bubble that echoes through the quiet kitchen.

  “It’s really hard to concentrate when you’re doing that,” I say.

  “Sorry.” Larkin closes her mouth and chews.

  “If can’t float paper, won’t be able do spell.” Oksana’s voice takes on a sing-song quality.

  “I get it.”

  Irritation crawls up my back and sits on my shoulder. The wolf within stirs, wanting to be left alone.

  Darby! A deep voice calls my name.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask.

  Larkin shakes her head. Oksana frowns.

  “Hear nothing. Float paper.”

  Darby!

  The voice is in my head. Something inside me is calling out.

  Move the papers, Darby! You have the power! I do have the power! I’m a freaking witch!

  An inner wall shifts, letting
out a spark of energy. The papers shift on the counter. My eyes widen. “Was that a breeze or did I do that?”

  “Windows closed. You get closer,” Oksana says.

  “I’m Darby,” I whisper. “I am Darby Candice McGregor.” The papers fly off the counter, float through the air, and scatter across the kitchen.

  “Wow,” Larkin says, getting off the counter.

  Gesturing with my hands, I summon the papers, lifting them off the floor, and holding them mid-air. With a flick of my wrist, the papers assemble themselves into a neat pile back on the kitchen counter.

  “You finally see who you are,” Oksana says slowly.

  I study her face as if I’m just seeing it for the first time. Everything around me seems clearer—more in focus. “What’s next?”

  My housekeeper’s eyes darken. “Things only get harder from here. Real magic come with price. Understand?”

  “Yes, but I’m not afraid.”

  And for the first time since my mother left, I’m ready to take on the world.

  No matter what the cost.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Darby?” His voice is soft and sweet, whispering in my ear from behind.

  I turn to face him. “Carrick,” I murmur, burying my face in his neck.

  “My dearest love, we shouldn’t be together like this. Your parents would be quite disappointed.”

  He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest as we sit on the beach, listening to waves crash against the shore.

  “We’re to be married in hours,” I reply. “How could we not steal a few precious moments together?”

  After our wedding, my life will no longer be my own. Yes, I will marry my love, but I will also dedicate my life to the service of my people, becoming their high priestess.

  “As you wish.” His lips brush against my cheek.

  In his arms, I am home—safe, loved, and complete. Our marriage was arranged by our covens, an opportunity to create unity among the factions. But I know the coven leaders were simply tools fate used to reunite our souls.

  For I have loved Carrick through many lifetimes, this just is the latest.

  The world could end and it wouldn’t matter as long as I have him. “We should build on the North Shore. Then every morn when we rise, we’ll see the world begin anew,” I say.

  “I care not where we live. My home is in your arms.” He kisses the top of my head making my body tingle all over. “But your family will not want us to live outside the village. They need you as do your people,” he says.

  “What about what I need? Shall I not live a life with my husband?”

  He takes my right hand and presses it against his cheek. “After today, we will be as one, my love. I will live to serve your needs and those of your people. As such, it is my responsibility to help you—”

  I pull back. He longs to dive deeper into the practice of magic, but there is a dark streak running through his aura. Carrick is kind and sweet, but spark of evil pushes him toward the edge where he seeks to learn more about the black arts—a practice strictly forbidden. One cannot serve the good while delving into evil. Should he ever give into the darkness within, it will most certainly destroy us both.

  I place both my hands on his face. “Carrick, from now on, you are my family. For I have known no greater love than yours. Even my people shall understand that I hold you first in my heart.”

  His green eyes smile down on me as the wind rifles through his dark hair. He brings my mouth to his, giving me the most gentle of kisses.

  “As long as I draw breath, I pledge my soul to thee—”

  “Darby!”

  A young girl yells my name, ripping me from his arms. I get to my feet, searching for the girl that calls to me. But I see no one. I look down and Carrick is gone. The sky has shifted—dark clouds gather above my head, threatening to rain as thunder booms.

  “Darby!”

  I sit up, drenched in sweat, and study my surroundings. Carrick is gone; my arms feel cold and empty. My room is dark and the house is quiet save the pounding of my own heart.

  I know where I’ve seen him before.

  “Ryan!” I say.

  With one swift motion, I throw the covers off and jump from my bed. Grabbing my new phone from the night table, I turn the flashlight app on and hurry from my room. Racing down the stairs to the first floor, I cling to the railing so as not to trip over a pair of feet that are moving too fast for my body. Stumbling down the hall, I make my way to my studio. I flip the light on and rush to the far end of the room, yanking the sheet off my covered canvases.

  There—the last painting to my right leaning against the wall. It’s Carrick only I know him in this life as Ryan. I sink to my knees, studying the line of his jaw and the way his smile curves up to the right.

  Ryan seemed so familiar when we met—because we had met. In my dreams, he has haunted me forever.

  “You up—we train.” Oksana’s voice startles me.

  I grab the cloth and cover the painting. “What time is it?”

  “It very early. School in few hours. Today you go.” Oksana stands in the open doorway, still in the hall.

  “Why won’t you come in here?” I ask.

  “Your space. I give privacy.”

  “Really? Cause I’ve seen you lurking in the hall.”

  Oksana wrings her hands. Her long nightgown flutters in the drafty hallway. “I’ve been in room.”

  “When?”

  “Father ask me look at paintings last year. He worry. You have nightmares. Too many nightmares.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I see painting of boy. You paint darkness. See it in his soul. No painting can hide. This boy bring pain—much pain. Your painting warning. Must stay away.” Oksana takes a step forward. “Stay away from boy, Candy.”

  My arms ache for Carrick; my heart longs for the connection. How could I ever stay away from Ryan?

  “It’s just a painting,” I say quietly.

  I can’t explain why Ryan looks like Carrick or how I remember a life I did not live. But I’m willing to fight for a chance to understand it all.

  I don’t care what my housekeeper says.

  “You stubborn like father. Learn hard way.” She sighs, gathering her nightgown in her hands. “Come, we train.”

  “Fine.” I cross the room, grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door closed behind me. Pausing, I look back. Does Ryan know me as someone else?

  “You coming?” Oksana asks from down the hall.

  “Sure, let’s go save the world.” I shut the door. I’ll deal with my soulmate later.

  ***

  Sitting at the kitchen counter, I prop my chin up with my hands. Is Ryan really Carrick? No, that doesn’t make any sense. How could Carrick still be alive? Bennett did say eating people kept wolves young. But for a thousand years? No, that can’t be the right. Ryan saved me from the wolves in the woods. Would he do that if he were a wolf? Or did he save me? I was pretty close to kicking that one wolf’s butt when he interceded. Was he actually protecting them?

  “Focus!” Oksana drops a large metal box down on the counter in front of me.

  I sit up and rub my eyes. “I’m focused.”

  “No, you elsewhere. Clock ticking. Twenty-eight days til next full moon.” She turns the box so it’s facing me. There’s a large silver lock with no keyhole and no dial. “Open lock.”

  “Huh?”

  “Open lock,” she repeats.

  “Okay, where are the bolt cutters.” I glance around.

  “Magic lock.”

  “Of course, it is.”

  “No cut, no saw, use power.” She walks around the counter and sits on a stool next to me.

  “How do I do that exactly?” I scratch my head. I should be in the bathroom taking a flat iron to the wiry mess on my head. The new hair is hot, suffocating, and makes me look like a giant carrot.

  “Use spell. Make lock open.”

  “A spell?
” I ask.

  My housekeeper gives me a look that says I’m an idiot for not realizing this idea sooner.

  “I don’t know how to write a spell.”

  Oksana pokes me in the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “Intent matter. Not words. You know how to get to power. Now you learn how use power to create spell. Baby steps.”

  Gritting my teeth, I try to tap into the power I felt yesterday. “Does my spell have to rhyme?”

  “Rhyme for babies. Just say words. Mean them.”

  “I want the lock to open,” I say, clenching my fists and every other muscle in my body.

  But absolutely nothing happens.

  “You stress.”

  “I am not stressed.” I clench again, repeat the words, and only get a cramp in my stomach for my trouble.

  “Magic flow through you from Earth. Witches serve nature. Nature provide power.”

  I wiggle on my stool. “Why would nature give me the power to unlock this box? Is there something in the box that will help me break the curse?”

  “This small step to grow power. Nature counting on you. Will provide power. You believe.” Oksana shakes her hands in the air.

  I half-expect nature to respond with wind whipping through the kitchen, but I’m only disappointed.

  “Think of earth, ocean, river, stream. Water flow through you. Magic flow through you,” she says.

  “Okay, I am water,” I say. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “Water flows through me. I want this box to unlock.”

  Oksana’s hand hits the countertop with a slam. My eyes fly open. “What?”

  “You not believe. You no connect.”

  “I’m trying to. It’s still hard to wrap my head around all this.” I sigh, leaning on the counter.

  “You must be strong. Power have price, remember? You do this, pay small price. Get used to idea.”

  I am fresh out of strength to pay any price. I’m already down a mother and father. What more do I have to give up?

  “Okay, Oksana.”

  “Open box.”

  I wave my hand over metal lock. “Open. I want you to open.”

  She grunts. “How you do before?”

  “Before?”

  “When move paper with mind. How you do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  But I do know. I focused on my name—my first name, and I felt different—stronger.