First Full Moon

by Michelle Alstead

  I screamed until my throat was raw.

  Grandpa appeared suddenly. With tears in his eyes, he scooped me up and carried me back to the house. He told me what I saw was a terrible dream, and as long as I never spoke of it, nothing bad would ever come from it.

  For more than a decade, I’ve said nothing about the lady in white—not even to my cousins.

  Who was she?

  “Candy?” Larkin is at my side, shaking me. “Say something!”

  I’m lying in the snow, staring at the dark sky. “I’m so cold,” I say through chattering teeth.

  “You’re bleeding.” She looks around. “We need something to stop the blood.”

  I stick my hand in my coat pocket and pull out a packet of tissues. “Always come prepared.” I hold them out.

  For once, boring pays off.

  Larkin rips the package open and holds it to my head. Branches snap and leaves rustle in the woods behind us.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask.

  “Um, yeah.” Larkin’s muscles tense, her brown eyes wide.

  An animal howls in the distance.

  “We just had to have family dinner on a full moon,” Larkin says. “You know that’s when the crazies come out.”

  I chuckle. “Well, you’re out.”

  “I’m going to let that one slide because of your head injury.”

  My dress coat isn’t warm enough for January on the East Coast. “Help me up. We need to get out of here.” I raise my hands upward.

  Larkin frowns but only half her face moves. “Are we sure you don’t have a spinal injury? I should call for help. Do not move.” She holds out her hands to prevent me from getting up.

  I push her away. “My spine is fine, but I think my foot is broken.” Slowly, I stand up and put pressure on my right foot only to cry out in agony.

  “That is not good.” She glances up the road. “We’re like a mile from the house.”

  “We have to call for help. Do you have your—”

  A loud hissing sound followed by a small boom interrupts me. The limo’s engine is on fire and the flames spread quickly.

  “Harold! He’s still in there.” I stand up, teetering on my left foot.

  The fire reaches the front seat, shattering the side windows.

  “We need to go now.” Larkin drags me away from the blaze.

  “But Harold—”

  “He’s already gone, Candy.”

  We’ve known Harold all our lives. Leaving his body to burn in the woods doesn’t seem right.

  “Where’s your phone?” I ask.

  Larkin points at the limo. “Where’s yours?”

  “In my purse in the limo.” I rub my hands together.

  “Come on, looks like we’re walking.” Larkin puts an arm around my waist, pulling me away from the fire.

  I swallow hard, limping through the snow while leaning heavily on my smaller cousin.

  There’s another howl only this time it sounds as if the animal is getting closer.

  Larkin stops.

  “We should keep moving,” I say.

  She takes several deep breaths. “We’re stuck in the woods on a full moon. We need to get our Buffy on.”

  “This is so not the time for Buffy references,” I say, my head swimming.

  Something is watching us. I have that feeling again.

  “There is never not a time for Buffy references, especially when haunted forests with wolves are in play.”

  “Come on, we have to go.” I wrap my arm tighter around Larkin’s shoulders, propelling us forward.

  My coat only comes to my waist and my flats sink in the snow, leaving my bare legs to absorb the cold wind.

  “I should have worn jeans,” I say.

  “I’m telling you. The red leather jumpsuit would have been awesome. Like Little Red Riding Hood only—”

  We stop suddenly. A wolf, brown-haired with gray spots, blocks our path.

  In a low voice, I reply. “You had to say Little Red Riding Hood.”

  “It’s not like I meant to conjure the Big Bad Wolf,” Larkin whispers back.

  The animal inches closer, showing sharp teeth that make me cringe.

  “Candy, it’s going to eat us,” Larkin whispers.

  I don’t respond as my jaw unhinges. Several more wolves emerge from the woods, joining the first. They growl, snapping at us.

  “What now?” My cousin squeezes my arm to the point of near numbness.

  Every single wolf has their eyes trained on me. They’re staring at me in a weirdly human way.

  “You should run, Larkin,” I whisper.

  “Um, no. I can’t outrun a pack.”

  “I don’t think it’s you they want.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at their eyes!”

  She studies them for a second. “Yeah, they’re looking at you like you’re a gourmet burger.”

  “That’s why you should run and get help.”

  “Candy, they’ll tear you apart.”

  I don’t reply. There’s no reason for us both to die.

  “Candy?”

  The lead wolf lunges at us and I push Larkin away while I fall backward, landing on my tailbone in the snow. The wolves circle me. “Run, Larkin! Run!”

  My cousin backs away from the wolves that don’t even register her presence.

  “Go!” I scream as the first wolf lunges for my throat.

  The beast lands on my chest, chomping its sharp teeth together just short of my throat. My fingers dig deep into the animal’s fur, struggling to push it off me. There’s a low growl, and I’m stunned to find it’s coming from me. The wolf’s teeth inch closer to my face, drool dripping on to my cheek.

  My arms grow weaker by the second. Just as the wolf opens its jaws, I spot a broken branch within my reach. Extending my fingers, I grab it and pull it to my side. My left arm gives out and the wolf goes for my throat. Swinging hard, I jab the short stick into the wolf’s neck. Blood sprays outward, sprinkling across my face. The animal howls, retreating as another wolf comes at me.

  I throw a right hook that connects with its temple. The creature whimpers, anguish in its eyes. Slamming the wolf to the ground with my left hand, I raise the branch to stab the wolf. Just as I’m about to swing, there’s the shrill sound of a whistle. The high-pitched noise brings the wolves to the ground and forces me to cover my ears.

  An arm scoops me up from behind. “I’m sorry. I had to stop you before you killed it.”

  I look up to see Ryan Connelly holding me in his arms.

  “What?” I say.

  “We need to go.”

  I nod, suddenly feel very weak. He carries me away from the wolves, which are now retreating into the trees. He hurries toward the road that leads up to my Grandparents’ estate.

  I stare at him. It’s not polite, and I probably look like Carrie with the bloody face and stained dress. But I can’t tear my eyes away from Ryan’s face. He is even better looking up close. “Why?” I say in a small voice.

  “Wolves are facing extinction. I couldn’t let you kill one even if you had good reason,” he says.

  “No, I mean why are you here?” My throat hurts. Was I yelling in the woods? It feels as if I was.

  Ahead of us, Larkin is running toward Grandmother’s house.

  “I know it’s private property, but it’s the best place in Sequim Falls to cross train during the off-season.” Ryan’s emerald eyes shine in the darkness.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m in to trespassing. The wolves nearly ate you for dinner. You shouldn’t be wandering around in those woods alone. Animals come down from the mountains during the winter in search of food.”

  “I wasn’t wandering. Our limo crashed. Didn’t you see it burning?”

  “No, my eyes were only on you.”

  Our eyes meet and my heart stops for a split-second. I gasp, drawing a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  �
�Yes.” I look away, wishing my whole body hadn’t just broken out in a sweat.

  “You’re Candy McGregor, right?”

  My eyes are big; I’m sure of it. “You know my name?”

  “I’ve seen you around school.”

  “That’s right. We are in the same class,” I say in the most nonchalant voice I can muster.

  “Your family lives here?”

  We round the corner, coming in sight of the estate. “Yes, they do.”

  “Wow.”

  I know what he’s thinking. Everyone wonders the same thing—how much is this place worth?

  “It’s not mine,” I mutter.

  Ryan smiles down at me. “Good. It’s not your style.”

  In spite of my head wound, throbbing foot, and Harold being dead, I smile.

  He’s right. A sprawling estate with a hundred rooms and fifty servants is not at all my style.

  “Thank you for saving me back there,” I say, studying the silver whistle around his neck.

  Ryan shifts me in his arms. “You didn’t need my help. You more than had that situation under control.”

  “Thanks, but it was just . . .”

  It was just years of training and paranoia that brought out my inner Buffy.

  “Just what?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. The full moon really brings out the evil in this world.”

  His smile fades, a shadow flickering across his face. “Right.”

  A black sedan drives up behind us. Ryan moves off to the side as they pull alongside us. The passenger window rolls down. Bennett studies me.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “The limo crashed. Then wolves attacked me.”

  The car stops abruptly. Both doors fly open. Uncle Patrick climbs out of the driver’s side.

  “We’ll take it from here,” Bennett says, taking me from Ryan.

  Ryan seems reluctant to let me go. “But I—”

  “It’s okay. They’re my family.” I try not to sigh, allowing Bennett to carry me to the car.

  “Thank you for your help.” Uncle Patrick pulls a business card from his suit pocket. “If we can ever return the favor, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  Ryan takes the card and scratches his head. The car doors slam and Uncle Patrick drives off. Through the back window, I stare at Ryan who stands in the middle of the road staring after us.

  As we reach Grandmother’s house, a lone wolf lets out a mourning howl in the distance.

  A chill overtakes me.

  Something bad is coming. I just know it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Surprise!” several voices above my head announce.

  Looking up to the second floor, my cousins ranging in age from three to fifteen are gathered in front of the banister. “Happy Birthday!” they scream, tossing pieces of colored tissue over the rail. A rainbow of paper rains down on us, covering Grandmother’s pristine white marble. Maureen McGregor won’t be happy with the mess. Grandmother’s world is always perfect if only in appearance.

  I’m propped up between Uncle Patrick and Bennett. Larkin rushes to me with Grandmother following close by.

  “I was worried the wolves ate you,” Larkin says, hugging me to the point that she nearly takes us both down. “I was worried they’d eat you.”

  “Turns out I’m not that tasty,” I reply.

  “Darby, this isn’t exactly the time for jokes,” Grandmother says, clasping her hands together. Her posture is always perfect, her hair is always pristine, and her attire is flawless. My grandmother is the flowing picture of perfection.

  And she insists on calling me by my first name.

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  “Sometimes laughter is the best medicine.” Larkin raises a challenging eyebrow.

  “I do admire your devotion to each other, children, but this is hardly the time for a stand off. Young eyes are watching.” Grandmother sends a pointed glance toward the second floor. “Get her into the kitchen, Patrick.” Grandmother turns to face my cousins. “The maids have the night off, so we’re going to have a contest. The person who cleans up the most paper off my hardwood floor gets the first piece of birthday cake.”

  The kids cheer, scrambling over each other to get down the stairs.

  “Shouldn’t the first piece of cake go to the birthday girl?” Larkin folds her arms.

  “Hija, teamo, perosi no dejas de hablar, perderástuherencia.” Grandmother’s tone is sharp.

  Bennett leans in. “What did she say?”

  “She wants Larkin to stop talking,” I groan.

  Larkin flips her long hair back, glowering. “I don’t need money.”

  Grandmother meets her gaze, folding her arms. “Medical school won’t be cheap, darling.”

  “I’ll get a scholar—”

  “Hey, remember me? I have a bleeding head and a broken foot. Can I get a ride to the hospital?” My arms ache from being propped up.

  “I’m sorry, Darby.” Grandmother touches my cheek briefly.

  Even on my birthday, she won’t call me Candy.

  Uncle Daig, Larkin’s father, appears with his medical bag. “The kids said you were bleeding. I thought they meant you cut your finger.” He peers at my head. “Let’s get her to the kitchen, so I can see if she needs stitches.” He takes Bennett’s place, putting an arm around my waist. “Are you okay, sweets?”

  “Wolves tried to eat me, Uncle Daig.”

  Larkin waves her hands. “Uh, I’m fine, Dad, thanks for asking.”

  Uncle Daig smiles. “Of course, you are. My girl always comes out on top. You’re a lot like your mom.”

  “Speaking of Mommy, where is she?”

  “You know she hates coming to these things. She’s home.”

  My uncles half-drags, half-carries me out of Grandmother’s foyer and down the hall toward the kitchen.

  My grandmother, Bennett, and Larkin trail behind.

  “What kind of wolves did you see?” Grandmother asks.

  “Furry ones,” Larkin replies.

  “Are there any other kind?” Bennett asks.

  “She’s being petulant again, Daig.” Grandmother’s voice is higher than normal.

  “I know, Mother. I apologize.”

  “Don’t apologize for me!” Larkin stomps her feet.

  “Larkin—”

  “Dad!”

  Grandmother’s heels click across the floor. “Alright, enough. There were wolves in the woods and they attacked.”

  “Yes, but that was after Harold died in the front seat and the limo nearly plowed straight into a tree,” I say.

  “He was very old,” Uncle Patrick offers.

  “I’m sure it was his time, and I’m very grateful he did not take you both with him.” Grandmother’s tone is off.

  She’s hiding something about Harold. I know it just like I knew Larkin was about to throw a punch at my head.

  We turn the corner, passing through double doors into a kitchen that would be the envy of any professional chef. Uncle Daig helps me up onto a counter. The smell of lamb stew fills the air, but there’s no chef in sight.

  “I don’t know, Grandmother. There was something odd about the way Harold died. His eyes were open and glassy.”

  And he looked like he’d literally been scared to death, but no need to mention that and seem really crazy.

  “Okay, let’s say Harold died a natural death.” Larkin speaks in her best Law and Order voice. “That still leaves the issue of the wolves in the woods. What were they doing there?”

  Uncle Patrick exchanges glances with Uncle Daig and Grandmother while Bennett stares at the floor.

  “It’s winter. They came down from the mountains for food,” Grandmother says.

  “We’re miles from the nearest mountain,” I say, placing a hand on my aching head. “I think I need stitches.”

  Uncle Daig checks my scalp. “The cut was superficial, and it’s already stopped bleeding. I do need to clean this,” he says, taking alc
ohol wipes from his bag. My uncle dabs at my scalp while my grandmother grabs a wet towel and scrubs dried blood from my nose and cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she whispers.

  “It’s not your fault, Grandmother.”

  Her face is pained, but she says nothing.

  “Okay, now let’s have a closer look at your foot.” Uncle Daig slides off my shoe, twisting my foot.

  “Ryan said the wolves probably came down from the mountains,” I say.

  “Who’s Ryan?” Grandmother asks.

  “Ryan showed up?” Larkin’s eyes are saucers.

  Finally, there’s something she doesn’t want to fight about.

  “Was he that guy who was carrying you?” Bennett asks.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “I’ve seen him around school. He plays tennis, right?” Bennett says.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I say, staring straight ahead to avoid Larkin’s curious glances.

  Uncle Patrick frowns, creating creases on his otherwise youthful face. “He was trespassing on private property.”

  “Yes, he was. I told Branson to check the fence around those woods. We need to keep people out of that area,” Grandmother says, opening the door to the kitchen. “Especially on nights like this.” She gives Uncle Patrick a knowing look.

  “I’ll see to it right away, Mother,” he says, turning around and walking away.

  “Bennett and Larkin, would you please make sure your cousins are cleaning up that mess?” Grandmother asks.

  “Where are Geraldine and Helga?” Larkin asks.

  “They went on a girls’ night out. They work hard. They deserve a break from cleaning up after all of you,” Grandmother says.

  “Why?” Bennett asks.

  “Excuse me?” Grandmother folds her arms.

  “I think what he’s wondering is why you’d let the staff go when we’re all coming over for dinner. Who’s going to do the dishes?” Larkin asks.

  Grandmother’s thick eyebrows go up. “Well—”

  “Come on, Larkin. Let’s go before we get in trouble.” Bennett grabs her by the elbow and steers through the kitchen door.

  I can hear her complaining all the way down the hall. Who invites an army over for dinner and then gives everyone the night off? Well, everyone but Harold. What happened to him? Was it a heart attack? Or something else? His lips were blue and his eyes had that strange look. That seems like something other than a heart attack.