A Curse So Dark

by Heather Davis

“So, you’d throw all this away?” Kyle said, his strong jaw set in a line. “Us?”

  I felt tears gathering. “I guess so.”

  “Then that’s that.” Kyle jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and stood staring at me for a moment as if he might do or say something to help heal the rift. But then he said, “I’ll see you around.”

  The slam of the back door felt like a punch. Angry and stunned, I leaned against the dryer, processing what had just happened.

  Kyle had seemed so perfect. A popular, well-liked guy who made me feel like I fit in, like I could do anything, be anything. The future I imagined with him had been so dazzling. But what good was an imagined future if you couldn’t struggle together in the here and now? I mean, if he couldn’t be supportive about my dad going missing, how would he act when he found out I was a werewolf?

  I’d never be able to trust him with that dark secret. Never.

  “Making pancakes,” I mumbled, remembering Alex was still in the kitchen. I dried my eyes on a towel from the stack folded on the dryer, and then smoothed my ponytail into place. I had to keep it together, for myself and for the family’s sake.

  When I came back into the kitchen, Alex was pouring batter for a second pancake. His first was on a plate, golden brown and spotted with berries. He looked up to see me watching him. “Wolf blood.”

  “What?” I grabbed the edge of the table and then sank into my seat. The sweet smell of the pancakes was cloying now, nauseating.

  “On the snare. My dad rushed it to Seattle last night. He just called me and said it’s a rare species.” Alex lifted an edge of the pancake, decided it was done enough and flipped it expertly. “That’s why I had to come over and um...interrupt. Sorry.”

  “But you know you can’t do that.”

  Alex seemed startled by the edge in my voice. “Do what?”

  “Exploit the wolf, or whatever.”

  “No, see, it’s a good thing. It might even be an actual scientific discovery. My dad was impressed that we found the bloodied trap. Said it’s almost enough to launch an investigation with. He’s going to talk to some of his buddies at Fish and Wildlife.”

  I felt numb, like I was barely hearing what he was even saying. I could picture the forest infested with government agents trying to track down a wolf. One that could be my father. And if it had been his blood on the trap, that meant he was hurt, maybe worse.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Alex said, sliding into the chair across from me, a plate of pancakes in hand. “If you’re worried about the wolf, it’ll be better for the subspecies to be classified, maybe get protection. Whoever set that trap is super screwed.”

  “And who would have set the trap?” I murmured.

  “Poachers, probably. Or someone who wanted to stop a wolf from getting his livestock, but there’s no cattle up on the hill. Mostly you see that on the edge of grazing lands.” Alex paused, cutting a little piece of pancake with his fork. “Dad and I saw lots of of that in Montana.”

  “Montana?”

  “Our last town there. We move a lot with the forest ecology stuff.”

  I forced myself to calm down and try to get more information. “They’re sure it’s a new species?”

  Alex nodded. “Subspecies, at least. Next step is sending the sample to a special lab somewhere to map the genes. Dad knows an expert.”

  I leaned back in my chair, hugging my arms to my chest.

  “You okay?” Alex mopped up some syrup with a forkful of pancake. “Kyle didn’t look too happy to see me.”

  “You must’ve heard us in the mudroom,” I said, wincing a little. “Pretty sure that was the end.”

  Alex cleared his throat. “Yeah. For the record, he was lucky to have you. And he shouldn’t be such an ass. You don’t need that, especially right now.”

  “Exactly.” I cocked my head. “You know, I’m really glad you moved to town.”

  “I’ve got your back,” Alex said.

  I studied him, the slight glow of the sun lighting up his profile, his sandy blond hair. He wasn’t bad looking, would actually be kind of cute with Rose. It was funny, if he hadn’t been skateboarding in the parking lot that night, we wouldn’t even be hanging out now.

  “Thanks, Alex,” I said. “Meeting you might be the only good thing to come out of this ordeal.”

  “You, too,” he said.

  My hand moved to my pendant, my fingers running over the moon design. Strange wolf blood on the snare could mean Dad was out there, injured, vulnerable. And with the other wolves showing up near the area where we’d found the snare, what was to keep them from finishing the job the savage trap hadn’t been able to?

  “Everything okay?” Alex asked, his gaze falling on my hand at my collarbone.

  I smiled and tucked my necklace away. Then, I reached for my plate of half-eaten pancakes. “Yeah, perfect,” I lied.

  ***

  The lupine pendants. The more that I thought about how they’d been in the box in my father’s room and how often Fawn left her window open, the more I saw how easy it would have been for someone to crawl in and take them. Pluck them right from the fancy boxes, and no one would have noticed for a while. But, oh, we were going to need those stones.

  It was already Monday, which meant the full moon was less than a week away. And then, my sisters would know the bone-deep pain, the awful rushing of blood. I shuddered, remembering the peculiar feeling of tendons and muscles stirring under my skin. Whether or not Dad was found in time, I had to locate those stones.

  After school, I started with the first place I could think of—Pioneer Pawn on Main Street.

  “What are we doing here?” Rose asked as we pulled into a parking spot.

  “If you don’t want to come in, then you could grab a mocha next door at the coffee shop. Maggie gave me the night off, but if you tell her it’s for me, she’ll give you the employee discount.”

  Rose shouldered her purse. “You’re buying us a present here? Something vintage?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Oh,” Rose said. “Fawn told me about the missing pendants. You think they might’ve ended up here?”

  “We have to start somewhere.” I opened the door to the shop and Rose followed me in.

  Near the front, a wall of clocks set at different times ticked out a mismatched cadence. A few customers browsed a dusty collection of musical instruments, from flutes to tubas, near the back of the store. The owner of the shop, Mrs. Gillingham, placed a tray of rings back into the display under the counter. The bright oranges and pinks of her flowery top contrasted with her pale complexion and graying blond hair, which was waved back behind her shoulders. People around town said she’d once been homecoming queen at Pioneer Falls High. Her king and husband, Clyde, had died a few years ago, leaving her to run the pawn shop alone.

  “The Turner girls,” she murmured. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

  I smiled. She probably hadn’t seen us together in a while, but Mrs. Gillingham was a regular at the coffee shop. She always ordered a chai tea with no sweetener and left a Canadian quarter for a tip.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Rose said, for both of us.

  “I was wondering if someone might have pawned necklaces like mine.” I held out my pendant, still on its cord, toward Mrs. Gillingham.

  She squinted at it from a distance then grabbed her reading glasses, wiping them off on her shirt before settling them on her nose. “Hm... Bone?”

  “No, it’s a rare stone, something called lupine, I think.”

  Mrs. Gillingham held out her hand. “Might be easier to look at it under a loop. Eyesight’s not what it used to be.”

  “Oh.” I stood there for a few seconds staring at her outstretched palm.

  “Go ahead and slip it off and I’ll have a look,” she repeated.

  “No, I don’t want to take it off.” I took a step back and tucked the pendant in my shirt.

  “She never does,” Rose said. “It was a gift from our dad.”<
br />
  “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, girls. I heard about him going missing,” Mrs. Gillingham said, her tone softening as she reeled her hand back in. “The sheriff was by the other day with a poster.” She gestured toward the window, which was covered with a multitude of papers announcing concerts and church services, among them the missing-person flyer with Dad’s photo.

  “Thanks, we really appreciate it,” I said. “You haven’t heard about necklaces like this showing up here, or in any other shop around, have you? We were probably hit by the town creep who’s been breaking into people’s houses.”

  She shrugged. “I hate to tell you this, but anything stolen around here would get pawned out of town or sold online. Things in my shop are from townsfolk. Maybe about thirty percent of this stuff will be eventually be paid off and reclaimed. The important stuff, anyway.”

  “What important stuff?” Rose said, her eyes widening.

  “Jewelry, power sanders, violins,” Mrs. Gillingham replied, sounding tired. “Then again, some of this stuff has been here for years. Anyhow, you should file a report with the sheriff and she’ll add it to the list of local stolen goods we always check when we take in new stock.”

  “It would be memorable,” I said. “It’s two of these stone pendants.”

  “Same design on both?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” I said.

  “Any pictures of them?”

  I shook my head. “I think they would look something like mine. I could take a photo and email it to you tonight.”

  “Good. Without a picture, could be hard to identify if it does turn up pawned. But I’ll keep my eyes open.” Mrs. Gillingham slid her glasses from her nose and set them on the counter. “Oh, hey, please don’t touch those,” she called out to the guy near the musical display. She hurried out from behind the counter, wearing bunny slippers instead of shoes. Another customer in the back of the store, an older man, walked to the display of electronics, then left.

  “She’s never going to find those necklaces,” Rose muttered. “I don’t think she could recognize anything of actual value.”

  “She might. It’s the only place I could think of.”

  “Why are those necklaces so important to you?” Rose asked.

  “Dad wanted you and Fawn to have them.” I considered telling Rose the real reason, but then shook off the thought. I didn’t want to worry them, not if there was a chance I could stop the change from happening.

  “Young man, that’s a vintage Taylor guitar, worth a mint,” Mrs. Gillingham snapped as she lifted the instrument from the customer’s hands.

  “I intend to be very careful. You won’t mind at all.”

  I froze at the sound of the voice.

  “Ah, well, okay,” Mrs. Gillingham said, settling the guitar back into Morgan’s hands. She stepped back behind the counter, her frown gone, a slightly dazed grin in its place.

  “It’s him,” Rose whispered, with a little giggle.

  “Shh!” I said, looping my arm through my sister’s and pulling her toward the front door.

  “But you and Kyle are over,” Rose said. “You said so yourself.”

  I sighed. I hadn’t wanted to make a big deal about it, but I’d told the twins that morning so they wouldn’t hear about it at school from someone else. I hadn’t seen Kyle in the halls, or in class, so maybe he’d been absent that day, which was fine by me.

  “I think it’s a little soon. Don’t you?” I said.

  But then Morgan said, “Hello again.”

  My feet rooted into the shabby carpet. I couldn’t move away from the velvety sound of his voice.

  “Hi, Morgan,” Rose said, placing her hands on my shoulders and turning me around.

  He smiled broadly. “Small town, isn’t it?” He strummed a few chords on the guitar, barely glancing down at the fret board. He gazed instead at me, his amber eyes dazzling gold in the soft light, a suggestion of dimples accompanying his little twist of a smile.

  “It is.” I felt my blood quicken, almost jump in my veins. I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat.

  “Wow,” whispered Rose. “He’s even hotter in daylight.”

  I gave her arm a squeeze. “Would you stop?” I whispered back.

  Morgan returned the guitar to the counter and served Mrs. Gillingham an impish smile. “Marvelous tone, that model.”

  Mrs. Gillingham smoothed her hair. “You’re welcome to try any others that you might like.”

  “Oh, she’s the one. I’ll be back for her.”

  “Sure, sure.” Mrs. Gillingham tore her stare away from Morgan and then hung the guitar back up on the display wall.

  Morgan walked toward us, his hands in his pockets. “Delightful to run into you.”

  “Would you like to come to a birthday party?” Rose blurted out. “It’s Saturday night at the Fire Hall.”

  I nudged her and then unlinked my arm from hers.

  “I’m always up for a soiree.” Morgan gave Rose a little wink.

  “And you’re still here,” I said, feeling silly for stating the obvious, but feeling tongue-tied again. “I mean, if you’re still here.”

  “Indeed.” Morgan held open the shop door for us.

  I waved to Mrs. Gillingham, who had her elbows on the counter and was watching Morgan with a dreamy look on her face. The doors closed with a jingle behind us.

  Rose turned to me and in a robotic voice coupled with an idiotic smile said, “I’m gonna get a mocha, you guys want anything?”

  I tried not to react with a glare. “No, I’m good.”

  “Be right back.” Giggling, Rose hustled off to the coffee shop.

  Suddenly, I felt exposed, colder on the sidewalk now that it was only the two of us. I zipped my jacket with shaky fingers.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Morgan asked.

  “In the shop? No.” I felt a rush of heat in my cheeks again.

  “You never know what you’ll discover in a place like that. Lots of forgotten treasures. Lost things, too.”

  “Not what I lost,” I said. “I mean, you know by now my father’s the deputy that’s missing. I was looking for some clues, I guess.” My fingers itched to touch my pendant, but I forced myself to chill. I didn’t feel good talking about the stone, even if I hadn’t mentioned it directly.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything at the search yesterday,” Morgan said, lowering his gaze.

  “I saw you there,” I said, cocking my head at him. “Very unexpected. Why would you do that for us? We’re strangers...”

  He hesitated for a moment and then said, “I’d planned a hike anyway. No trouble at all.”

  “Huh... Well, it was really kind of you. To give up your vacation time to volunteer.”

  Morgan’s cheeks colored slightly. “I’m terribly sorry you’re having to go through this,” he said, winding his green wool scarf around his collar. He took a step closer to me, so close I could smell his scent again, the cologne, the deeper scent of forests and musk. “You were looking for him Saturday night, right?”

  I nodded, not correcting his assumption. It wasn’t like I could tell him my true purpose for wandering at night in the woods. “He’s been gone a week now.”

  “That must be very frightening for you.” His gaze traveled slowly from my forehead to my cheeks to my lips. The exposed feeling flitted through me again, but there was the slightest edge of excitement there. That sense that he wanted to know me, to memorize my features. I couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at me that way.

  “We’re all really worried,” I said, realizing the pause had been embarrassingly long.

  “Rightfully so, Lily. If there’s anything I can do—”

  “I mean, if you’re out and about in the woods and see him, you could call the emergency number. Oh, actually...” I stopped myself, remembering that I needed to get to Dad before anyone else. “You should call me.”

  “Glad to.” He held out a phone.

  I smiled an
d entered my digits. “There you go. How long did you say you were staying?”

  “That depends on a couple of things,” Morgan said, sliding the phone back into the pocket of his jacket. “But it’s only a few more days, likely.”

  “Maybe we’ll meet again then.”

  “Highly probable,” Morgan said, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “As it turns out, I’ve been invited to your sisters’ birthday.”

  I smiled back, that sense of falling hitting me again like it had when we’d met at the coffee shop and on the road at night. Like I’d known Morgan forever. Like we were already friends.

  “Right, then,” he said, breaking the spell. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I looked at him from beneath my lashes, wondering if he’d felt the tingly electric feeling that had coursed through me, or if I’d imagined it. Whatever it was, the pull was strong enough to make me a little woozy.

  “Morgan,” I said. “See you...”

  He smiled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he strolled off in the direction of the inn.

  “So? What happened?” Rose said, coming out of the coffee shop with two mochas in her hands. “I couldn’t lip read from the shop.”

  “I think I gave him my number,” I murmured.

  Rose cracked a huge smile. “You did?”

  “Hey! He’s going to keep an eye out. He seems like a good guy.” I took a deep breath and unlocked the doors of the truck. “Strange, but good.”

  “He’s gorgeous, admit it.” Rose climbed in and buckled her seat belt, setting her drink in the cup holder.

  I kept my eyes on my mocha, taking a big sip. If I glanced up, Rose would see the gooey look I was sure was still on my face. Morgan. Oh, man. Something about him really got to me.

  “So? Maybe turn the key?” Rose asked, nudging me.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” I cleared my throat and started up the truck. In the rearview mirror, I could see the retreating figure of Morgan, tall and dark in his leather jacket, that vibrant scarf, his wavy hair lustrous in the sunlight. I put the truck into reverse and slipped my foot onto the gas pedal to back out.

  Just then, there was a burst of sirens and flashing lights behind us. I jammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding the sheriff’s car.