Curse Strings

by Rebecca Regnier

  Four legs? It was exactly what I thought.

  A sandy fur sprouted along his skin.

  I stood back.

  I had been lucky; my encounters with shifters were of the Grady variety. Grady, I called out in my head for him.

  “Help! I’ve got a shifter here that’s uh? Rabid?”

  Garrett Dewitt was no longer Garrett Dewitt. He had fully transformed into a wolf, a giant one with long legs. He turned to look at me. And a long string of drool loped down off his sharp teeth. His lip curled as he snarled at me.

  The wolf Garrett licked his lips. There was literally foam coming out of the side of his mouth. Whatever part of him that was human was fully submerged in this wolf. I was in mortal danger.

  I got my feet in gear. I turned and started to run.

  I wasn’t fast and the ground underneath me was mushy. I fully expected to feel the rip of claws and teeth on my back.

  But I was pulled forward.

  “Shoo! Get out of here!”

  I ran straight into Joe and Sam. They were making a commotion and for a moment, confusing the heck out of wolf Garrett and me.

  “What the heck, Mom?”

  “Go go go!” I said and they turned and ran with me into the house.

  “Close it!”

  Garrett DeWitt, now an out of control wolf, scratched at the front door. Bubba started barking and my two sons looked at me for instruction on what to do next. I didn’t really know. I hoped that my call had worked.

  “Okay, now make sure the back is locked.” I had no idea if Garrett DeWitt the wolf would know to come around back. But at least I gave the appearance of having some clue what to do.

  We watched as the wolf stalked the front yard.

  “Mom, is that a werewolf?”

  “Yes Joe, that’s a werewolf, and it’s also my boss.”

  “Yikes, I think he was going to eat you.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. It’s likely he’s ready to eat all three of us.”

  I’d like to see that mutt try.

  Agnes had joined us in watching the snapping, growing, and totally out of control wolf prowl around the front yard.

  Then, a red flash of fur pushed the DeWitt off his stalking track. The red fur and sandy fur had turned into a ball of teeth, claws, and growling.

  “Whoa,” Sam said. It was pretty much the only response one could make in a situation like this.

  “That red one is a friend of mine,” I said, and tried to play it off like it was no big deal.

  Oh, Grady might be a brute, but he’s a useful one. Wake me up when you decide on your outfits for Beltane.

  Agnes hopped on Bubba’s back and the two retreated to a safe corner of the dining room.

  “The red one’s winning,” Joe said, as though popping popcorn was the only thing missing from the show going on in the front yard.

  Grady had DeWitt in some sort of wolf submission hold, and then three more wolves appeared.

  “Mom, this is sick. Totally sick,” Sam said as the three additional wolves literally escorted DeWitt, still in wolf form, but duly chastised, out of the yard, and back into the woods adjacent to the neighborhood.

  “That’s one of my jobs around here, alerting wolves and vampires when trouble is about to break out.”

  “Well, nice work, Mom, not a scratch on any of us. Though the yard looks like total garbage now,” Joe said, and I suspected he was right.

  The bell rang, and there was Grady, shirtless, but mercifully not fully naked, and standing on my porch.

  “Ah, yeah, Grady. Hi, come on in.” I opened the door and my boys stood back to let the latest monster friend of their moms into the house.

  “We got it under control. They’ll take him out to our place. Figure out what’s what.”

  “Thank you, it was uh, unclear, if he was going to kill me or not.”

  “Unclear?” Joe shook his head like I was in major denial.

  “Grady, these are my sons, Joe, and Sam.”

  Grady put out a hand and shook theirs.

  “Ah, we all owe you a debt of gratitude. Your mom is a real Den Mother, I hear you trained her well.” The boys smiled. It was true. Raising sons had somewhat prepared me for hanging out with werewolves. Who knew?

  “Thank you for coming.” Things had gotten oddly polite, but then, my boys were raised right.

  “Boys, why don’t you get ready. You’re coming to Beltane Bash with me.”

  “There beer?” Joe asked.

  “Yep, and it’s free.”

  “Cool, catch you later Grady,” Sam said. They both took off upstairs and left me with Grady for a moment.

  “So, who was that out in the yard? He’s seriously messed up. He has no idea what’s happening to him.”

  “My boss, he owns Your U.P. News. How does that happen? How does he not know?”

  “It’s a risk, if you don’t grow up in a pack. And it’s terrifying.”

  “Can you help him?”

  “I hope so, when he shifts back, we’ll see. Did it come on him suddenly?”

  I thought back to when he’d run away earlier. We had been surrounded by food, and just now there’d been the cooler full of fish.

  “Oh my gosh, Grady. It was the food. Just like your son, he has no control over the shift.”

  “I see. We’ll do what we can.”

  “Thank you and thank you for watching over Dorothy and Maxine.”

  “Honored to.” Grady gave me a hug, and for a moment I sank in. It felt good. It had been a long day, and he’d literally come to our rescue.

  “See you at Beltane?”

  “Yes, we must honor Frances.” Grady smiled and left. I shut the door behind him.

  My boss was a rabid werewolf. My friend was in jail for murder. And my two sons were of legal drinking age.

  The hits just kept on coming.

  Chapter 15

  We drove to the beach in my Jeep. I spent some time talking to my two sons and explaining what I knew about werewolves and vampires. I answered what I could, though so much of the magic of Widow’s Bay was still mysterious to me, and almost as new as it was to them.

  “Vampires are made not born and werewolves are born not made,” Joe said.

  “Makes sense,” Sam added.

  “Your friend Grady seemed totally in control, but your boss was the exact opposite,” Joe pointed out.

  “That’s why getting to Widow’s Bay is important. It’s part of the pact, as I understand it. Brule saved a bunch of witches, he found them a haven from persecution here. And Widow’s Bay has certain properties that allow shifters to control the shift. It also restores the vampires to full health if they go to ground here. In exchange, the witches pledged to make sure it was always a welcome home for, well, Yooper Naturals.”

  “According to the history books, Etienne Brule was killed by Native Americans. Is that what happened, but after they killed him, they turned him?” Joe asked me. He had remembered those dioramas.

  “I never exactly asked the specifics on that.”

  “And you call yourself a journalist.” Sam chuckled and I swatted at him while driving. He was skilled in dodging that method of discipline.

  “Look, I don’t know exactly how, except it is a good bet that Brule was made here, by the Native Americans. I don’t know the story, but it all fits. It explains a lot or explains what can be explained.”

  “What about your powers? Can you fly?”

  “On a broom, yes.”

  “And we saw your wand on the counter, so that’s a yes to that one,” Sam added, addressing Joe. Clearly, they had been speculating on what was what with their witchy mom.

  “No denying it. I am a witch, and so are Aunt Dorothy, and Aunt Fawn, and Tatum, and pretty much everyone I love here. Some of us are actually descended from the Salem witches who didn’t hang.”

  “I thought they were burned?” Sam added.

  “No, hanged. Burning is a common misconception.” Joe supplied the facts as he
understood them. I was proud of Joe. He was the math kid, the logical one. None of what I was sharing had much logic to it, but he was handling it with grace.

  Sam was another matter. He was in awe, his jaw kept dropping and I kept reminding him to shut it. I imagine it was what I looked like last fall when this same information turned my concept of reality upside down.

  “I mean, being a vampire is sick, totally sick. Super strength, immortal, chicks dig you, win, win, win!”

  “Ah, blood-sucking?” Joe reminded him and Sam brushed it off.

  “Tonight, Beltane, what are we doing?” Sam asked.

  “Frances will be honored; she was a venerated member of this town. And there will be a bonfire, beer, like I said, and then, well, to be honest, I don’t really know.”

  “Really?” Joe looked wistfully out into the darkening sky.

  “Really. Aunt Dorothy is in charge, with an assist probably from a few witches you haven’t met yet.”

  “Cool,” Sam said.

  “And you did get the warnings, there are dangerous elements out there. Open the glove box.”

  Joe was sitting in front and did as I asked. He pulled out two Yooperlite rocks. Brule had called them Clach Dearg, I didn’t know how strong they were, but it was something.

  “Put those in your pockets. If you see something with sharp teeth, call out to me. I can help, but also, throw those rocks at it. Aim for the eyes. It helped me out of a jam a few months back.”

  The boys both took a Yooperlite. I wondered if they really were safe. If any of us were. Should I tell them to leave? I didn’t think so, but as a mother, I did know there were dangers here, it was my job to keep them away.

  But then I thought about where they’d planned to spend the summer, Detroit.

  Was it safer in the big city? Crime, pollution, and traffic were the risks there. Here, you didn’t have much traffic, or pollution, but we had no shortage of major crime.

  In the end, I trusted Aunt Dorothy. We were her family, and she wanted us to be here with her. She’d raised her family here too. Widow’s Bay might be dangerous in a completely different way than Detroit or Chicago, but it was where I was supposed to be, I felt it in my bones.

  Maybe my boys did too? The family was a powerful force for good, I believed that to be true. And even if it was just for a summer, or in Joe’s case, longer if he truly wanted to be a firefighter here, we’d all three be strengthened by being near each other.

  My role as The Liaison took on even more importance now that my sons were here. I wanted the best for Widow’s Bay because, surprisingly, my own family was now calling it their hometown. I’d gotten out of here, so had my own mother, but here I was again. The pull of Widow’s Bay was strong on me, and now my sons.

  I was proud of Joe for wanting to be a firefighter. Math may be his skill, but helping people was his passion. Maybe it was the right career path after all.

  And Sam, well, he was sweet, fun-loving, and honestly, if you were on vacation here, you’d be lucky to have him as your ski instructor or guide, or whatever he was planning.

  I knew there were so many things unsolved and unsaid right now, but I’d never let one thing go unremarked.

  “I love you boys, so much, and I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

  “Love you too, Mom!” Sam said and squeezed my shoulder. Joe patted my hand.

  I was one lucky mama.

  The short drive to the beach was completed. I felt centered, calm, and ready for whatever came next. I also realized how much I had missed them. It was easy to put that aside when you’re fighting evil vampires or chaotic trolls, but now that they were here, I was grateful.

  I pulled into a spot near the beach, just as a gorgeous woman walked past the car and out to the shore. Sam’s jaw dropped again, this time in awe of the female form.

  “Whoa, who’s that?” Sam said.

  “Morganna, steer clear, she’ll rip out your heart and eat it for breakfast.”

  “I don’t think I’d mind,” Sam said, and Joe rolled his eyes at me.

  It was time for Beltane Bash.

  Chapter 16

  As we approached the expansive area of beach, that bordered Widow’s Bay to the east, Pauline found me right away.

  “You did GREAT!” Pauline hugged me.

  “I did nothing, the beach looks amazing.”

  “We asked you to get people here, and BOOM!”

  I looked around. The beach was crowded with people. Some were residents of Widow’s Bay—familiar faces, neighbors—and others were tourists.

  “It looks like we’re giving Testicle Festival a run for its money.”

  “Can I grab you two? I could use some muscle to keep this show on the road.” Pauline squeezed both my sons in a hug. This had been their summer home, and my friends, their summer aunts. Just as I had been an aunt to their children, when I’d breeze in and out in between hiking trips or football camps. Finding other women, who treated your kids like their own, might be the greatest gift a mother can receive.

  “Yes ma’am.” Pauline led them off to whatever tasks needed accomplishing.

  I took in more of the scene. The out of town vending trucks were absent from this rogue event, and instead it was all Widow’s Bay businesses operating makeshift stalls.

  Every morsel of food or red cup of beer was free, though there was a tip jar at a few stalls. I marveled a bit at what had been accomplished here. Where it seemed the corporate branded and sponsored festival put on by Phillip Lockwood and Ridge Schutte was all about profits and logos, this was as pared down as it could be. This was an impromptu beach party among friends, if you had five-hundred friends that is, and a portion of them were enchanted witches who could summon mad party planning skills.

  Everything from a row of rustic picnic tables to metal buckets filled with twigs for roasting marshmallows looked like camp, not manufactured or corporate. This was Widow’s Bay at its best.

  The centerpiece of the event was a towering structure of wood, twigs, sticks and various other kindling. This was the bonfire; this was the tribute for Beltane. It was at least ten feet high. Any spring chill that we were feeling here on the beach, was going to be vanquished by the heat of this fire, once ignited, I had no doubt.

  Nearby, I spied Maxine and Aunt Dorothy, sitting in lawn chairs. They held hands and seemed to just be taking in the scene. They both wore lovely crowns of flowers that sat delicately on their white hair. They looked beautifully serene.

  I was happy that we were able to pull this off. I hoped that it was something that Frances would be proud of too.

  I walked over to them.

  “It’s looking lovely isn’t it?” Aunt Dorothy said. I nodded.

  Slowly the rest of my core coven quorum filed in closer. I felt the absence of Tatum and of Frances keenly. But Pauline, Candy, Fawn, and Georgianne were here with me. And if we had any luck, they would be for decades. Just like it had been for Frances, Dorothy, and Maxine. I had been here now for the passing of two of their original six. Jane had died before I had arrived, and Lottie was murdered shortly after. I’d witnessed a werewolf tribute for Elsie.

  All the decades they’d been alive, and now they were passing, too fast, in my opinion. With Frances gone there were only two left of the old guard of the Distinguished Ladies Club. Aunt Dorothy had been urgent, she knew we needed to recruit new members, she knew we needed to learn to use our magic. She knew the clock was ticking fast.

  Sometimes, in a crowd, where conversation and movement create a hum, a lull occurs. We’ve all had that moment when you’re talking too loudly all of a sudden because, by coincidence, everyone gets quiet at once. That’s what happened on the beach, except it wasn’t a coincidence. Everyone in attendance quieted down, in unison. I knew Aunt Dorothy had done something to create the hush and the stillness required for her ceremony.

  I looked around and, without direction or guidance, the hundreds of people that had been eating, drinking, and enjoying the evening
by the water, had formed a circle. It was several layers deep, rings around rings, around rings.

  We all encircled the tower that had been made for the bonfire. It really was just a mound of debris, but it had a shape, and it was perfectly constructed to perform a function. It was also a community effort. Everyone at Beltane Bash had added to the fuel that would feed the fire. It was the focal point of the night.

  Aunt Dorothy stood up. The sun sank behind the mountain, and dusk gave up what lingered of the daylight. It was time. People in the circle rustled, more faces appeared. There were vampires, trolls, and shifters. Some faces familiar, magical, and almost glowing, some were more curious. Was Beltane Bash going to live up to the legends and lore of Widow’s Bay?

  I saw that even Giles Faa and a group of his travelers were here. They normally stayed away from town gatherings, and when they did show, it was rather rowdy. And yet Faa was quiet, and so were his people.

  Reverence. That was what I felt. That was what Aunt Dorothy radiated from her core to the people who’d gathered. And there was curiosity. If you’d come here, as a tourist, to Widow’s Bay, because you wanted to see the magic for yourself, or because you’d heard the local lore, I suspected you were about to be very satisfied.

  “Welcome, brothers and sisters!”

  Aunt Dorothy’s voice resonated. It was clear and easy to hear, even with the water and wind in the outdoor beach air.

  “We’ve come to honor the Beltane day and lift a Soul to the Sky of a venerated and powerful witch who lived and died for the sand we walk on and the hearts that beat within our chests.”

  Aunt Dorothy lifted a prayer to the sky, to join Frances soul.

  The buds are erupting

  on the ash and the rowan and around us all

  Spirits and sprites dance around us now

  Love and life burst forth!

  Goddess, our offering is the most beautiful and pure among us.

  It is more than these flowers

  Entwined into a crown.