Hunter Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel #2

by C. D. Gorri

  “But I’m not magic.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “What do I smell like?” Ronan let out a low growl before Alessio could answer my question.

  “Relax dude, I wasn’t going to be disrespectful. Although Werewolves in general do have a certain canid body odor, but a good one! I swear!”

  “I smell like dog?”

  “No, no, not to me. And not to anyone else either! Ow!” Ronan threw his spoon across the table. It wasn’t a really hard throw. Especially not for Ronan. It was sort of gentle. Kinda. Not.

  It hit Alessio smack in the middle of his forehead. I covered my mouth, but couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out. Alessio furiously rubbed the small red welt and tried not to pout. He scowled in Ronan’s direction, but never attempted eye contact. Smart guy. Ronan turned to me.

  “You know, your Uncle Sean told me Gypsies were charming. Charming, really? What was the man thinking?”

  Ronan leaned back as Derek came over with his heavy tray. He passed out the steaming dishes. Everyone dug in. I was starved. As usual.

  Alessio forgot about his welt and grabbed a fork. He ate with gusto. Like he had never eaten a meal before. I could almost believe it, he was so slender.

  But not in an unattractive way. His limbs were long and gangly, but he was alright. His curly hair looked almost black. His equally dark eyes took in everything around him. From the brightly painted walls, to the images on the small flat screen at our booth.

  He seemed to type things as he thought of them. Sweet potato fries and their history. What is organic beef? CyberSodas’ hours and staff. Top secret recipes of all time. Stuff like that. His face was angular, a little on the long side, but not unpleasant. Still. He had nothing on Ronan’s chiseled features and his tall, muscled frame.

  But it really wasn’t fair to compare anyone’s physique to Ronan’s. He was in a class all his own. I felt his eyes on me. I hoped he wasn’t reading my mind or anything right now. How embarrassing would that be! Great, Grazi, why don’t you just wear a sign saying this guy’s a hottie. Weirdo.

  I could feel my blush as I took a bite of my sandwich. What does it matter what either of them looked like? I was the last person in the world to judge anyone based on looks. I mean, I’d never win a beauty contest.

  Suddenly, I wished it were possible. I wished I was petite and blonde and pretty, like, well, like Julianna. Then maybe I’d stand a chance. I shook my head to clear it. Was I really this shallow? Ugh.

  I finished my food in record time. Dang it, I should have ordered more. I snagged one of Ronan’s choco-bacon fries. It was actually pretty good. He put them between us and I grabbed another. He smiled as he took a sip of his shake. He had such a great smile.

  “Grazi, is it true you went to CyberSodas without me? Like WTH?” I could sense Angela’s anger as we changed into our winter gym uniforms. Brown sweatpants with the same mud splattered zephyr on the front of the see-through t-shirt. The sweatpants were ugly, but way better than the shorts so I was not going to complain.

  “Well yeah, but it wasn’t planned or anything. It was a last minute thing.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes and squatted down to tie her sneakers.

  “Hey Angela, believe me, I had no intention of ending up there yesterday.”

  “Yeah, well you could have called, Grazi. That’s what friends do. It would have given me an excuse to go see Derek. We’ve been texting almost every night and playing Wolf Moon together.”

  “You have?” I sounded surprised even to my own ears.

  “Yes, we have. I know it’s kind of corny, but I like it and so does he. You don’t have to sound so shocked either. Some guys may actually find me attractive too, you know.”

  “Of course I know guys find you attractive! Look, I’ll apologize again. I really am sorry. And you don’t have to explain yourself, Angela. I think it’s nice you both like the same things.”

  I felt her anger dissipate a little and I was glad. I never intended to hurt her feelings. How could I explain to her that I never really had a friend before? It was embarrassing enough. Truth was I had spent most of my younger years standing behind Julianna’s spotlight.

  Sure, Nonna was great, but going to Church and playing Scrabble with a bunch of seventy year olds was hardly educational in so far as how to treat one’s friends as a teen. And what was with the ‘guys may find me attractive too’ stuff? I mean I always thought she was super comfortable in her own skin.

  Guess I’m not the only one with self-esteem issues. Great, now I’m a neurotic, self-obsessed Werewolf. I pulled my hair into a loose braid and swung it over my shoulder. I looked at Angela as she fluffed her short red curls. They were glossy and pretty and her green bow looked great as always. I wish there was something I could do to help her know how special was.

  “You know, Angela, Derek is lucky to have you be interested in him. Not the other way around.” She seemed embarrassed by the compliment and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Ew, look who it is? Hey Grazi, I hear you and Sebby are official. Like officially losers. Hahaha.” Lizette rolled her waistband down revealing a small tattoo under her navel. When did she get that? My Werewolf eyes picked up the image faster than I would have been able to before.

  My breathing stopped. It was a familiar symbol. It was in the shape of a pentagram. It was upside down and it spiraled outwards. Like the one Ms. Vorax had after the Wendigo possessed her. The sign of the coven. This was so not good.

  “Yeah, I mean, it’s like one thing for you to like, give it up to him, but to actually make him ask you out in return? You’re like totally ruining his reputation. Forget prom king next year. He probably won’t even get into a good college now.” Lizette continued her nasty rant oblivious to the tension in the air. She smelled sweet. Like sickeningly sweet. I rubbed my nose.

  “You are just so selfish. I bet you don’t even care he might lose the Student Council elections coming up!” Julianna trembled in her anger. She didn’t look directly at me when she spoke. I think she’s still a little scared of me.

  She has been ever since she and I argued before the Harvest Dance last month. She stared at the ground as she rolled down her pants to hip level also. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t see a tattoo matching her friend’s. At least she was safe. For now. I grabbed my bottle of water and left the locker room.

  My mind was going in a million different directions. I had to slow it down. Focus on one thing. Help. I needed help. I heard the squeak of Angela’s sneakers as she followed me.

  “Grazi, where are you going? The gym is that way.”

  “Um, I don’t feel well Angela, you go on. I’ll meet you there.”

  “No way. If you don’t feel well I’ll go to the nurse with you. There is no way, I’m going to Phys. Ed. without you.” I was too amped up to argue with her. I needed to get on a phone to Uncle Sean ASAP. I headed to my locker where I kept my cell.

  “Alright, fine. I need to make a call.”

  “You could get in trouble, Grazi, if someone catches you.”

  “I know. Last chance for you to leave, Ang.”

  “Grazi, I’m going with you. Friends, remember?”

  “Fine. Keep a look out then.” Last thing I needed was for Sr. Diane to be patrolling the halls while I was breaking one of our more serious rules. No cells during classes. I found my phone, turned it on as quickly as I could and texted a message to both Uncle Sean and Ronan.

  Ronan responded first.

  I’m in the gym where are you?

  By my locker. You have your phone?

  Duh.

  Don’t you follow any rules?

  Um, no. Not really. Hurry up then.

  Next message was from Uncle Sean.

  Do nothing. Do not approach or engage her, Grazi. It may be just a decoration. I’m at a Church function, I’ll be back before five. I’ll check it out then. Just follow your routine.

  I threw the phone back in my locker an
d slammed the door shut.

  “Oooh, Grazi! Someone’s coming. Hurry up! Let’s go.”

  I heard the clacking of Sr. Diane’s low heeled shoes. She wore the same beige dress shoes every day. I instantly recognized the sound they made when they hit the old worn linoleum floors.

  They were a marbled dark green color and several were cracked and discolored with age. I think every Catholic school in the state had the same floors. Maybe they got them at a discount or something. At any rate they were functional. Ugly, but functional.

  We ducked down the hall in the opposite direction and made it to the gymnasium just before coach Vinnie finished dividing up the teams for volleyball. Great. I really hate gym. Even with my new physical abilities I still did not like Phys. Ed.

  I simply was not good at team sports. I guess it was because I was always such a loner. I stood next to Ronan as Coach yelled out instructions.

  “No hitting the ceiling folks! If you do, point goes to your opponent. Remember ladies get under the ball. You hit it up and over, got it?” A few immature giggles at that, but I wasn’t paying close attention.

  “So what did you see?” Ronan’s voice was low enough for my ears only. I answered him in kind.

  “Wait for Lizette to hit the ball and when she does look at her stomach. She has a tattoo. I swear it’s identical to the one Ms. Vorax had on her back.” He nodded as Coach blew his whistle and the game began.

  Was that sound ever going to get any easier to bare? I could hardly think as I shook my left ear. My entire equilibrium felt off. Boom! I took a volleyball to the face. Ouch.

  “Hey Grazi! Wake up!” Julianna called. She was serving for the other side.

  I couldn’t believe I just took that hit. My face heated up and I could imagine my blush. Sebby looked away from me. He was on Julianna’s team. You know, the side with all the cheerleaders and star athletes.

  The team I was on included Angela, who was my best friend, but hardly knew which way to face and an assortment of other juniors I hardly spoke to. Most were in the honors program and several were puffing from inhalers, checking the clock, or just sitting on the floor. Lovely.

  Ronan was the only one I knew could hit the ball, but he wouldn’t be showing off here. Werewolves were supposed to be a secret.

  It was your basic jock versus geek set up. Been watching teen movies from the eighties again, Coach? I so hated Phys. Ed.

  The only thing worse than sucking at it, was being good at it and being forced to suck! What was the point in being good at stuff if you couldn’t show it in front of people?

  Faith, service, grace, loyalty, mercy and humility. It was sort of our Werewolf code. And right now it was all I could do to not pick up the ball and aim it at Julianna’s perfect golden head. The rat!

  Uncle Sean had explained the importance of keeping our secret numerous times. “Think of it as your duty, to yourself and others like you. There are some things the general public simply cannot grasp, it is our job to protect them even if it means hiding the truth.” His voice was clear in my mind. It was tough though.

  You see, Werewolves like to, I don’t know, show off a bit. It’s in our genetic make-up. Naturally competitive would be a better description. Cutthroat would be even more apt. It was almost painful to not do my best.

  But, like Uncle Sean said, there was to be absolutely no showing off at school. Pack rules. Fine. I’d listen to them. For now.

  I was used to keeping to the sidelines. Before my change I had never wanted to show off, I mean, I had nothing to show off. It was strange how I now thought of my life as before and after.

  What had me even more upset than knowing I had to lose, was the way Sebby reacted to my little mishap. He seemed almost embarrassed by me. He kept avoiding my eyes. That stung more than the ball to the face did. I thought he and I were better friends than that.

  Julianna served again and aimed straight for me. This time I jumped and hit the ball hard. Too hard. It made a popping noise when it hit the floor. Coach Vinnie walked over to it. He picked up the flattened remains of the blue and white ball.

  “It’s okay kids. Just hit a nail on the old floor here. Sebastian grab another ball from the basket. Okay Kelly, try again.”

  I eased up a bit. Okay, a lot. The game was good. We lost by a few points. We were playing against all the star athletes so we couldn’t make it too close a game. I thought we did a great job.

  Ronan and I worked well together. Of course we could’ve beat them easily, but we knew better. I mean we had to fumble a few serves and what not.

  It was fun though. We almost made it a game. Who could miss what and not make it obvious. That sort of thing. No one else caught it. I almost couldn’t believe it. To me, it was just so obvious, every time Ronan missed a serve on purpose. But, it worked.

  I was so happy on the car ride home I almost didn’t catch the report Dimitri and Sascha were listening to on the local news channel.

  “Earlier today on Tomahawk Lane a fire burned a one family home to the ground. The remains of all four family members were found inside the home. Unfortunately, firefighters on the scene could not comment on the cause of the blaze as of now. If anyone has information about this fire please call the police station at 888-5656. In other news temperatures are on the drop and gas prices are up again, no surprise there...”

  I thought about the fire as I got on my sparring gear in the training room at what I now came to think of as Pack headquarters. Otherwise known as the Kelly house, right next to mine.

  Today Cara was going to show me how to use a knife in battle. I was a little apprehensive. Given our previous sparring, I would say it was definitely warranted. Ronan was helping me close the Velcro straps on the extra padding around my arms and legs.

  Just because I am a Werewolf and a fast healer doesn’t mean I could recover from a severe laceration. I certainly didn’t want to tempt fate. Or Cara.

  “Why do I even need this kind of training? I can’t hold a knife when I’m a Wolf?”

  “Yes, but normally, you would only change once a month. It’s important to have good fighting skills because not all battles happen on the full moon, Maria. There are things out there with claws, teeth, weapons of their own and they have them every day. This is for your safety.”

  “But I’m different.”

  “True, but you can’t control it yet, can you? Look, if you don’t think you need this lesson then change right now. Go on.”

  I tried closing my eyes and concentrating, but there was so much going on. Dimitri was cooking up something fabulous. I could smell the large fresh ham he had roasting and I salivated.

  Cara was practicing throwing her knives across the room at various targets and naturally her aim was spot on. Uncle Sean was still out at the Church meeting and I didn’t know where Sascha was. And for some reason I kept thinking about that fire on Tomahawk Lane.

  I was worried. Without Uncle Sean here, who would keep Cara’s enthusiasm down to a minimum? I gave up trying. There would be no changing right now. My Wolf remained unresponsive. I tried again, my eyes shut so tightly I felt tears form. Come on, come on, come on. Talk to me. Where are you?

  “Hey, hey, Maria? It’s alright.” I opened my eyes and Ronan was wiping away my tears. He touched his forehead to mine and I breathed deeply. I hadn’t even realized I was practically panting with the effort to reach her.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll stay in the room, okay? You’ll be fine, she’ll talk when she’s ready.” His voice was very soothing. He was right too. I was anxious about this lesson. Knives made me uncomfortable.

  “When I was twelve, I was helping Nonna make dinner. My job was to chop parsley and garlic together for her special meatballs. The knife slipped and I cut my hand. It bled so much, Ronan.”

  “I’m sure it did. These knives are sharper.”

  “Thanks. That’s just great. So what’s your advice?”

  “Don’t get cut.” He smirked and tapped my nose with his finger. I�
��m not sure I liked it. He walked away before I had the chance to decide.

  “Ready for me, princess?” Cara was clearly in a mood. Fabulous.

  “Good. Before we can get to sparring I need to show you some forms.” I went through the motions of holding, sheathing, unsheathing, throwing and wrestling with a wooden replica of a knife for a grueling hour and half before she handed me the real thing.

  My first impression of knife fighting was this was nothing like target practice. A gun gave you distance and a modicum of the illusion you’re safe. A knife was a much more personal weapon.

  It required a much more personal kind of attack. I smelled the mineral oil that Cara must have used to polish the leather handle and blade. It was not as sharp a smell as the gunpowder. It didn’t tickle my nose either. But it was still there. Metallic and sharp as the blade itself. I twitched my nostrils and tried to focus.

  The knife I held had a jagged edge on one side. A smooth one on the other. It was about twelve inches long and semi-curved. Reminded me of the grotesque smile of a clown from a horror film. I so hated clowns.

  “It’s called Dragon Fire.” Cara’s voice was almost a whisper when she said the name aloud.

  “What is?”

  “That knife you’re holding. Mine is Zombie Killer.”

  “Why do they have names?”

  “Names give things power, princess. Do you know nothing?” I didn’t answer her. Cara’s face was twisted in an ugly sneer. She really needs to learn better social skills.

  I watched as she bent her knees and held her knife, elbows tucked. I mirrored her stance as she went through the motions of common knife attacks. I paid attention.

  I may be a teenager, and a verifiable baby when it came to my Werewolf knowledge, but I was a quick study. Cara was an expert. I knew she could teach me. I just had to ignore her attitude long enough to actually learn something.

  While she worked she was no longer taunting and angry. Her body moved quickly and gracefully as she twirled the wicked looking blade called Zombie Killer. She used her forearms and leather gauntlets to defend against an imagined oncoming weapon. She was beautiful and deadly to watch.