First Full Moon

by Michelle Alstead

  Bennett runs out with Larkin. Jasper is close behind him.

  “Worst birthday ever,” I say, closing the door behind us.

  A million questions should be running through my mind, but there’s only one that matters:

  What sacrifice will I have to make to break the curse?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Seriously? The garden shed?” Larkin says, her indignation as ripe as the lawn fertilizer. “Instead of hiding in a mint-condition Rolls, we’re hiding in a shack with manure?”

  “Shut up and sit down,” Bennett says, his tone sharp. “And forget the light switch. We can’t have the light on, or we’ll be seen.”

  Larkin grumbles as she sits down next to the lawn mower and folds her arms across her chest.

  Bennett uses the light from his phone to illuminate the space. The blue light casts an eerie glow across his face. “How’s the arm, Candy?”

  The pain is excruciating. I’m hot and cold all at the same time. A shiver runs through my body, and my stomach churns. It’s like the flu, but a million times worse.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  My dress is coated with dirt and grass stains from falling on the lawn on our way to the shack. A pair of work coveralls hangs on the wall. I grab them and pull them on.

  Jasper leans against a wall, his arms wrapped around his knees as he whimpers. “It’s not possible. Humans don’t become animals. That did not just happen.”

  “It’ll be okay, Jasper,” I say softly. “How did we not know?” I say to everyone and no one.

  “Deep down we’ve all known the truth for a very long time,” he replies.

  “Uh, no, I didn’t,” Larkin says. “I would remember if my dad turned into a monster once a month.”

  “What about the closet?” I sit down, holding my arm.

  “I hate closets.” Larkin pulls out her gum only to turn it upside down. There’s none left.

  I give her a look. “Right, because a monster came out of it.”

  She shakes her long, unkempt hair. “It was a nightmare. The monster wasn’t real.”

  Bennett wipes his nose. “What did the monster look like?”

  She rubs her jaw. “It had glowing eyes and sharp teeth.” Larkin studies her hands, sinking to ground. “And fur. It growled so loudly my mom woke up.” My cousin covers her face with her hands. “It wasn’t a dream. It was my dad.”

  “Sorry, Lark.”

  And I am too only I’m in too much pain to comfort her.

  “Do you honestly think Grandmother wanted to tell us the story of the little Irish witch a few hundred times?” Bennett pushes stray hairs from his eyes. Clearing off a metal stool, he sits down.

  “I just figured she was boring and had nothing better to talk about!” Larkin says, glaring at him.

  “When did you know?” I ask.

  He rubs his eyes. “Since the last full moon. My dad didn’t come to dinner, remember?”

  I think back to our last dinner. Every memory feels like a lie now. “Right, your mom was sick or something and your dad stayed home to take care of her.”

  Bennett scratches the sparse stubble on his chin. “My mom wasn’t sick. Dad had a disagreement with your father, so he stayed home. He tried to tie himself up in the basement, but. . .”

  Larkin gasps, clasping a hand over her mouth.

  “Your dad got out,” I say.

  “Yes.”

  Larkin smacks her hand against the ground. “My own father almost ate me!”

  “Larkin, you have to calm down. If you keep yelling, you might attract another wolf or . . .” I sigh.

  Suddenly, the life I had twenty-four hours ago wasn’t so bad.

  “Or what?” Jasper asks quietly.

  Power attracts power. What did Bennett mean by that?

  I turn to Jasper. “Let’s not find out, okay? Let’s just all calm down and try to get a handle on this situation. It’s the only way we’re going to find a solution.” My low voice is meant to calm, but I find myself only getting angrier. “Bennett, how could you not tell us when you found out?”

  “It was forbidden for my father—or any of our fathers—to tell us.” He stands up and goes to the small window.

  “Why?” Anger eats at my gut.

  “Because she forbids it.”

  “Who’s she?” Larkin asks.

  My throat is sore, and my mouth dry. “Do you mean Grandmother?”

  “No, I don’t know.” Bennett scratches his head. “My dad wouldn’t tell me.”

  “What else do you know?” I ask.

  “Yeah, spill it, and make sure you start at the beginning.” Larkin motions with her hand for him to get started.

  Bennett shakes his head. “Darby cast the spell and here we all sit hiding from our own fathers hundreds of years later.”

  A fever burns up my arm and into my chest. “There’s something else you’re not saying.” I grab a nearby tarp and pull it over me. “Why didn’t Darby break the curse?”

  “Witches are servants of nature. There are rules they have to live by,” Bennett says. “Darby broke the cardinal one.”

  “And what was that?” I ask.

  “She took lives instead of protecting them. That’s when Darby stopped being a witch and became a monster.”

  Larkin sits back down. “Why couldn’t she be a witch and a wolf?”

  Bennett’s face pales, his eyes on me. “Because the power that comes with being a witch is a gift. It’s meant to be used to protect life—always. Killing severed her connection to that gift because you can’t be both a protector and a killer.”

  I feel sorry for Darby. She was trying to protect her people and ended up losing herself. I can’t blame her for killing. Part of me wants to rip off Bennett’s face right now. “The lust to kill is overwhelming—almost impossible to resist.” I shiver while sweat rolls off my forehead.

  “Yeah, my dad said as much.” Bennett gives me a look that says he pities me.

  Maybe because I’ll be the first to change, or maybe it’s because my father wasn’t willing to tell me the truth.

  “It’s thirty days until the next full moon,” I say.

  “Thirty days to break the curse or you’ll turn.” Bennett leans back, resting his head on the wall.

  “We’re going to die!” Larkin blurts out.

  She needs to eat. She’s always hyper vocal when her blood sugar is low.

  “Anyone have any food they can give to Larkin?” I ask.

  Jasper pulls a candy bar from his pocket and holds it out to her. “You need this more than I do.”

  She takes it, tearing the wrapper off. “Thanks, I was feeling a bit wolfish.” Larkin snickers, biting into the chocolate bar.

  “You are so lame,” Bennett says.

  She makes a hand gesture at him that Grandmother would not approve of.

  “How am I supposed to break a curse when I know nothing about magic?” I ask.

  “In hundreds of years, no one has been able to break the curse,” Bennett says.

  “Obviously,” Larkin says with an eye roll.

  “But they weren’t Candy,” Jasper says, standing up.

  “No, they weren’t, Candy.” Larkin agrees.

  “I’m not anything special.” I close my eyes. They’re too heavy to keep open.

  “Yes, you are,” Jasper says. “We all would have broken if our moms left, but you just got stronger—doing what Grandmother expected and taking care of the three of us. We couldn’t have done that.”

  I wish I shared his confidence. The wound on my arm aches. The wolf’s teeth tore off the top layer of skin but didn’t hit the bone. From the amount of pain, the wound must be infected. “I should get some disinfectant for this.”

  “He’s right,” Bennett says. “You are strongest and the best chance of breaking the curse.”

  I grind my teeth, feeling the weight of their expectations. “I can’t do it. I don’t know anything about magic.”

  Jasper gets up, hi
s hands shaking. “You can learn. You have to.”

  He doesn’t have to say it. The thought of becoming a wolf has my cousin so scared he’s on the verge of crying. I can feel it.

  “No pressure, Candy, but I can’t handle needing to be groomed once a month either,” Larkin says, wiping chocolate on her jeans.

  “Break the curse, and we can all go to college anywhere we want,” Bennett says with a half-smile.

  The room goes silent. Break the curse and save my family or become a monster and lose myself.

  Why couldn’t I just be normal?

  “I’m tired and my arm hurts. Can we try to get some sleep and figure this all out later?” I ask, picking up a tarp and setting it on the floor. I grab some old sheets and ball it into a pillow.

  “Sure,” Bennett says.

  He helps Jasper get settled into a corner. I drift off before Larkin can comment on our luxurious accommodations. My eyes close without my permission, and I drift off into fitful sleep.

  ***

  “Candy? Candy? Wake up!” Larkin says.

  I don’t remember us planning a sleepover, but we must have if my cousin is in my room. “Lark, I had the worst dream. I dreamt . . .” I open my eyes to find Larkin, makeup smeared and face dirty, hovering over me.

  The sun breaking through the window is too much for my bleary eyes. I turn away. A stream of light falls on Jasper, a sleeping angel curled up in the corner.

  “We’re still in the shed,” I say quietly.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Where’s Bennett?”

  “He just left. He’s going to go check on the . . .” She scratches her head. “Pack. I guess from now on I’ll call them the pack. Do you think they’re human again?”

  “What?” I stand up, feeling dizzy.

  “How long are they wolves for? Is it just for one night or is it for a few days?”

  Larkin’s questions are hard to process. My brain just can’t focus. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you okay? You don’t look well.” Larkin touches my forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  “I’m fine.” I brush her hand off and push up the sleeve of the coveralls. The skin where I was bitten has turned black. Fluid oozes out of it when I poke at my wound.

  “That looks more than infected.” Larkin takes my arm to get a closer look at the bite. “The skin is rotting. You only see something like that with a flesh-eating bacteria or a spider bite where the venom dissolves the flesh all the way to the bone.”

  “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

  “No, it’s much worse. You need to be admitted to a hospital, so they can open that up, clean it out, and get you on some IV antibiotics.”

  “You’re not a doctor,” I say, taking my arm back and rolling my sleeve down.

  Larkin lifts her chin. “No, but my dad is, and he’s taught me enough to know that wound needs medical attention now.”

  “I want to talk to Grandmother.”

  “Why?” Larkin frowns.

  “Because she owes me the truth.” I push past her, throw the door open, and stumble out into the light. The sun is bright—too bright to keep my eyes fully open. Shielding them with my hand, I take slow steps toward the main house. The grass is wet with dew, making the climb slippery. I never realized just how hilly the terrain was until now. The odyssey to the front porch turns out to be more than my fatigued body can handle. My leg muscles give out, and I land in a heap on the front porch just as the door opens.

  “Candy? Are you okay?” A human-looking Magnus picks me up and carries me inside.

  “You’re human.”

  “Well, yeah. We’re only wolves one night a month, thankfully. What happened to you?”

  My mouth is a bitter desert, which makes it hard to speak. “She bit me,” I say.

  “Who?”

  “Grandmother.”

  Magnus brings me into the front room just off the main entryway. Grandmother has a beautiful, crushed blue velvet sofa that he places me on. I’m careful to hold my arm on my chest and away from the fabric. My uncle checks my right arm and then my left. What he sees makes him gasp. “That’s a death bite.”

  “Where? Let me see!” Grandmother appears and pushes Magnus to the side. “Candy, your hair!”

  “I’m a witch, I think.” I wave my hands in a witchy way. Nothing happens. “Or maybe not.”

  Grandmother takes my arm and covers her mouth.

  “Why did you do this to me?” I moan.

  My entire body burns. If I had to guess, my fever must be well past 102 degrees, the highest fever I’ve ever had.

  “What are you talking about?” My grandmother sits on the couch next to me.

  “You bit me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Where were you last night, Mom?” Magnus strokes his chin. “You were the only one unaccounted for.”

  “I don’t know,” Grandmother says, wringing her hands. “I woke up near the woods on the edge of the property. But I would not have bitten my own granddaughter.” A cloud passes over her face. There’s something about the woods Grandmother isn’t saying.

  “Thought for sure it would be Larkin you’d bite,” I mumble. “I always try so hard to live up to your expectations. And you bit me anyway!”

  “Calm down, dear. I did not bite you.” Grandmother looks to Magnus. “It wasn’t me.”

  “When we’re all chained up in the basement, things like this don’t happen.” Magnus digs his fingers into his already messy red hair. “Candy, what color was the wolf that did this?” he asks.

  “Silver.”

  Grandmother recoils. “She’s done it again, Magnus. She’s done it again.”

  “Who has done what?” I ask weakly.

  “You’ve been poisoned. We need to act fast, or we won’t be able to save you.” Magnus produces a cellphone.

  “First the wolves in the woods only want me and now I get a death bite. Why do these things keep happening to me?” I ask, tears coming to my eyes. “What did I ever do to anyone?”

  Grandmother pushes my hair away from my face. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Wolves are territorial and sometimes just really mean. The death bite is what happens when they bite a witch.”

  I do a half-crunch to a semi-sitting position. “So every human a wolf bites dies?”

  She looks at Magnus, who is scrolling through his phone.

  He gives me an apologetic nod. “No, if a human gets bitten by a wolf, it makes them a wolf. Of course, made wolves are inherently weaker than cursed wolves. Now if a witch gets bitten by a wolf, it’s fatal. Because they hate—.”

  “Magnus!” Grandmother’s voice is sharp.

  “She needs to understand what she’s up against, Mom. They all do especially Jasper and Larkin,” he says.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “I know how much you love them, Candy, but the weaker ones don’t survive the first transition,” my uncle says quietly. “It’s Mother Nature’s natural selection when it comes to the wolf curse—only the strongest survive.” He holds up his phone again, swiping through it.

  This day couldn’t possibly get worse.

  “Who are you calling?” Grandmother asks abruptly.

  “Her mother,” he replies.

  “What? Do you know where she is?” Suddenly, I find the strength to sit up.

  “I hired a private investigator last year. She got me a number for your mom, but couldn’t find an exact address,” Magnus says, studying his phone. “Why is it so hard to get a signal out here? We can afford to build our own cell tower, you know.”

  “You’ve had her number this whole time?” I ask.

  Does he know what her voice sounds like? I’m not sure I’d recognize it if I heard it.

  “Sorry, kid, but I never called. I wasn’t sure what your dad would do if I did.” Magnus pushes the buttons on his phone.

  “Oh.”

  My arm hurts a little worse after my hopes are dashed.
r />   Grandmother tries to take the phone from his hand. “You cannot call her.”

  He turns away, shielding the phone from her. “I have to. She’s the only witch we know strong enough to cure this.”

  I sit up and instantly feel dizzy. “If my mother cared about me, she wouldn’t have left. She’s not going to help.”

  Magnus looks to Grandmother. “Tell her.”

  “Not now,” she replies. Grandmother studies my arm. There may be things in the kitchen that can slow the poison until we figure this out. You need to stay calm, Candy. Getting upset will only hasten the poison.”

  “Why’d she leave me?”

  It’s a terrible time to address my mommy issues, but I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders. It’s a struggle to focus.

  Grandmother gets up and paces the room in response to my question, pulling at her perfectly coifed hair.

  My eyes want to close.

  “You know that she was injured.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her face is blurry and I want to go to sleep more than anything in world.

  “Your mother. . .” Grandmother twists the wedding set on her finger. “She wasn’t the same after she was hurt.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I say, slumping back on to the couch and letting my wounded arm touch the material.

  “No answer, but I’m not even sure it’s the right number.” Magnus shoves his phone back into his pocket.

  “It’s for the best. We should leave Brigid alone,” Grandmother says.

  “Maybe it’s best for you. She didn’t leave you,” I mutter.

  “What was that, Darby?” she asks.

  “I hate it when you call me that,” I say.

  “I’m sorry,” Grandmother comes and takes my hands. “We will fix this.”

  Sweat gathers on my upper lip. “Maybe it’s better I die now than after I’m a wolf. I really don’t want to eat people.”

  “We need to get her to the kitchen,” she says to Magnus. “There’s still some bread left. That will buy us some time.”

  “What?” I can’t eat. The taste of my own saliva has my stomach churning.

  “You blessed the bread,” Magnus says, “which basically made it an antidote for the wolf curse. The bite is from a wolf. Theoretically, the blessed bread could help slow the poison just like it helps slow the wolf transformation, I think.” He picks me up, my head resting on his shoulder.