First Full Moon

by Michelle Alstead

  “One. Two. Three. Let this pain leave me,” I say.

  Nothing happens.

  “She’s not strong enough to cast even a simple spell,” Grandmother says, walking ahead of us into the kitchen and holding the door open.

  “She’s new to her power. We just have to teach her how to tap into it.” Magnus sets me down on a kitchen counter.

  I want a new family. Like now.

  “What about the Alexander Society?” Magnus asks in a hushed voice.

  “You know better than to bring them up,” Grandmother replies through gritted teeth.

  “But they have resources beyond—”

  “They very well could have done this, Magus!”

  “What’s the Alexander Society?” I ask.

  “Never you mind,” Grandmother says, moving to the cupboard and pulls out a bread box. She comes to me with a small piece of bread. “Eat this, Candy.”

  “You called me Candy. I must be near death.”

  “Hush. Take this.” She tears off a tiny piece and puts it in my mouth.

  Chewing is hard work. My jaw aches, and my throat doesn’t want to expand to the let the food down.

  “Is it working?” Magnus asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  They’re both staring at me, but I can’t say whether I feel any less about to die or not. My head throbs at the base of my skull, and my entire body feels as if it’s burning from the inside out.

  “If I break the curse, does that put an end to wolves biting people?” I ask.

  “Who said anything about breaking the curse? Why would you think such a thing is possible?” Grandmother’s voice rises.

  “I don’t know. If magic created this mess then it seems possible magic could undo it.” Talking is wearing me out. Maybe if I just close my eyes for a minute. . .

  Magnus grabs my shoulders and sits me upright. “There’s no sleeping, you understand?”

  I yawn. “Okay.”

  Grandmother takes my hands in hers. “Promise me that you won’t try to break the curse.”

  “Why would I do that? If I’m a witch and there’s a chance, I’m going to do it.”

  Well, if I survive this death bite anyway.

  “You cannot break the curse. It’s forbidden! The practice of magic in this family is forbidden!”

  Magnus touches her shoulder. “Mom—”

  “No! I lost your sister, Candice, I’m not losing anyone else!”

  My father’s twin sister died young just like so many other McGregors. No one ever talks about her. Dad says it brings Grandmother too much pain.

  Is her death connected to the curse?

  “I’m going to break the curse,” I say in a soft voice. “Because this is never going to happen to anyone else.” I raise my arm briefly. Almost my entire limb is black. The poison is spreading toward my heart.

  I’m dying, and no one can save me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Make the pain stop!” I scream. My left arm is black from my wrist to my shoulder. The skin is rotting; I can smell it. “I want a doctor,” I say, trying to get off the kitchen counter.

  Grandmother stops me, putting her hands on my shoulders. “It won’t do any good, dear. This is a mystical illness. The only cure is magic.”

  I can feel the infection spreading from my arm into other parts of my body. My heart beats slower than normal. “Do the spell!”

  “We can’t, remember?” Magnus says.

  “No.” I shake my head from side-to-side. “You’re witches. We’re all witches.”

  “We aren’t witches,” Grandmother says.

  “Not anymore anyway.” Magnus paces.

  Grandmother puts a hand on my shoulder but I pull away. “Your uncles and I are no longer witches. We are wolves. You just can’t be both.”

  Right! Once a witch kills, they lose all access to magic. Kills. My family has killed people! Is one of them the Full Moon Killer? Someone who only kills on a full moon. Sounds like a wolf. Thirty years means it’s an older relative. Grandmother maybe? Is my grandmother a serial killer?

  I lean forward and whisper. “How many people have you killed?”

  Grandmother’s eyes widen. She backs away from me. Her hands are on her face as she shakes her head.

  Fire pricks every nerve ending in my skin. I groan and hit the counter with my hand. “If you can’t save me, find someone who can,” I yell.

  “There is no one else. You’re going to have to save yourself,” Magnus says.

  “What about my mom?” I ask. “If she’s a witch, can’t she fix this?”

  Magnus looks to Grandmother who shakes her head.

  “Darby, your mother can’t help you,” she says.

  “Why not? It’s kind of her job!”

  “Because she lost her ability to do magic when she was hurt.”

  “Why?”

  “That is something for her to explain.”

  “But she’s not here!”

  Grandmother reaches out but thinks better of it when I give her an angry look. “Someday, your mother will explain everything.”

  My mother left more than ten years ago and I haven’t heard from her since. A family reunion seems about as possible as me learning how to fly. Can witches fly? It doesn’t matter. With the way things are going, I won’t be around to find out.

  The contents of my stomach rise to my throat as a massive cramp hits my abs. “I need a trash can now.”

  Magnus grabs a bin and sets it at the edge of the table. I roll onto my side. Black lava spews from my mouth.

  “Mother?” Magnus turns to her.

  Grandmother sees the trash can, wobbles on her feet and grabs the other counter to keep from falling. Taking a deep breath, she speaks softly. “She doesn’t have much time left.”

  And it’s officially the worst birthday ever.

  “Teach me the spell. I’ll fix this,” I mumble. Who am I’m kidding? I have absolutely no idea how to fix any of this.

  My eyelids close. For the first time, I’m aware of gravity and how it anchors my body to the counter. Something is coming for me—maybe it’s death, or maybe it’s the creature that bit me.

  “Darby!” Grandmother’s sharp tone snaps me back to reality. “You have to fight this. Do you understand?”

  “Sure,” I slur.

  I’d bite someone to get a pillow and a nap.

  Magnus stands near my head while Grandmother takes my hands in hers. My uncle nudges me when my eyes close again.

  “Stay awake, kid,” he says.

  “You’re barely older than me. Who are you calling a kid?” I ask.

  “You’re feisty when you’re sick.”

  I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been sick before. Not even a cold.

  “Come on, Darby. We have to save you,” Grandmother says, squeezing my hands.

  “Okay, I’m awake.”

  “You have to focus all your energy to cure the infection. Let’s start with a basic spell. We’ll do the ‘one, two, three,’ alright?” Grandmother smiles encouragingly.

  “One. Two. Three. Let this pain leave me!”

  Those words do nothing. The agony almost makes me faint.

  “Okay, try this. Give back the pain that came my way. Go to the one who should be undone.” Grandmother repeats the words again.

  Whoever did this to me should seriously get it all back and then some.

  I taste metal on my tongue as I repeat the words. “Give back the pain that came my way. Go to the one who should be undone.”

  Nothing changes. Whatever power I had earlier seems to have left me.

  “You’re too weak to say a spell.” Magnus searches the kitchen cabinets. “Where’s the Echinacea?”

  “Antibiotics! I need drugs!” I moan, resting my head on the stainless steel counter. “Morphine, please.”

  “You need medicine that comes from the Earth,” Grandmother says. “Magic comes from Mother Nature. Herbs and plants when combined properly can create magic.
”

  “You want to go the homeopathic route? Ironic given we own a pharmaceutical company,” I say, closing my eyes.

  “I found it!” Magnus clutches a small, dark vial. “Drink some of this. It’ll help with the pain.” He holds it to my lips.

  I take a sip, gagging as it touches my tongue. “That’s horrible.”

  “We don’t have a lot of options here,” Magnus says, gesturing for me to drink more.

  Closing my eyes, the foul fluid slides down my throat and hits my empty stomach.

  “That’s not strong enough, Magnus.” Grandmother says. She goes the cupboard above the stove and searches.

  “What’re you looking for?” he asks.

  “Thyme.”

  “Again with the irony,” I say, laughing loudly.

  “Why are you laughing?” Grandmother asks.

  Suddenly, this all seems incredibly funny and crazy. “Because I’m dying on my birthday!”

  “Hey, there’s only room for one weirdo in this family,” a voice says.

  Larkin stands in the doorway along with Uncle Patrick, Bennett, and Jasper. She crosses the room and examines my arm.

  “She’s septic,” she says.

  “What does that mean?” Jasper’s voice is barely audible.

  “It means the poison has spread to her bloodstream, and it’s attacking her organs,” Larkin says, releasing my arm. Her mouth is twisted into a frown. She pulls on the loose thread hanging from her sweater. “Why aren’t we getting her to the hospital?”

  I twist and turn on the counter, trying to get comfortable when there’s no such thing.

  “Because they can’t help,” I mutter.

  “Modern medicine can’t treat an infliction caused by magic,” Grandmother says, her hair falling over her eyes.

  “Since when is an animal bite mystical?” Larkin asks.

  “Since the animal is actually a human who shifted form through magic,” Uncle Patrick says.

  “I imagine that also means magic can’t cure things like cancer then,” Larkin says.

  Grandmother turns sharply to her. “No, and if you try to use magic to heal sickness, there are dire consequences.”

  Larkin shrugs. “Okay.”

  Grandmother takes her by the wrist. “Promise me you’ll never try.”

  “Grams, you’re hurting me.”

  “Promise!”

  “Okay, okay. I won’t use magic to end disease and illness.” Larkin wrenches her wrist from Grandmother’s grip. “You people have lost your minds.”

  I chuckle again. Truer words have never been spoken.

  Uncle Patrick comes to my side, taking a close look at my wound. “Sorry, kiddo.” He pats my hair in the same way my dad used to when he was around. “Who did this to her?” he asks my grandmother and Magnus.

  “A silver wolf with blue eyes,” Grandmother replies.

  Uncle Patrick gives her a nod that makes me think he knows exactly who bit me. “She’s not strong enough to say a spell.”

  Magnus shakes his head. “No, and she’s the only full witch in this room.”

  “Wait, what exactly are the three of us?” Larkin asks, pointing to herself and the guys.

  “You’re latent witches,” Uncle Patrick says. “You have magic in you, but you don’t have real access to it until you turn sixteen.”

  Magnus nods. “Kind of like a driver with only a learner’s permit.”

  “But magic is in us. We haven’t been corrupted by the curse yet, so we can help,” Bennett says with a hopeful smile.

  Uncle Patrick holds the hand of the arm that’s not burning. “They do have a strong bond. They might just be able to connect enough to tap into Candy’s power.”

  Grandmother twists her fingers. “It’s worth trying.”

  “I don’t know anything about magic,” Jasper rubs his eyes.

  “You don’t have to.” Grandmother offers him a hand.

  Jasper takes it and lets her lead him to the counter where I’m lying.

  “It’s not the words you say, it’s the intention behind them,” Grandmother says, making eye contact with me.

  “So that ‘one, two, three’ thing is complete nonsense,” I say.

  “It wasn’t the words, Candy, it was your intent that made you feel better. You just have to believe. Have some faith in yourselves, children.” Grandmother forces a smile.

  Larkin glowers at Grandmother with her arms folded and nostrils flaring. “Well, that’s rich coming from the person who has lied to us our entire lives about who we really are.”

  “I had no choice,” she replies. “There are things you don’t yet understand. Magic is power. Power comes at a price. Nature keeps balance that way.”

  “Really? That’s what you’re going with?” Larkin’s face turns pink.

  “Calm down,” Bennett says.

  “In the history of the world, when has telling a woman to calm down ever worked?” Larkin asks.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “Help me,” I say.

  Uncle Patrick squeezes my hand. “There will be plenty of time later to pass the blame. Right now, you four need to hold hands.” He turns to Grandmother. “We need the Grimoire. There’s a counter spell for bites in it.”

  “What’s a Grimoire?” Larkin asks.

  “It’s our family spell book,” Bennett replies.

  She punches him in the shoulder.

  “Ow!” he says, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

  “For lying about that too,” Larkin says.

  “I can’t get the Grimoire,” Grandmother’s voice rings out across the kitchen.

  Magnus’s eyes widen. “What?”

  “Mother, that’s our only protection against—”

  “Davin stole it,” Grandmother says.

  “Why would he do that?” Uncle Patrick asks.

  “That’s a conversation for later,” she answers.

  More secrets. More lies. I’m going to die.

  Uncle Patrick grabs his hair. “Okay, I think I remember the spell.” He scratches his head. “Or maybe I’m thinking of the sleeping spell.”

  “Can you use that? Will it help?” Larkin asks.

  “I don’t want to be Sleeping Beauty,” I say.

  I can’t see their faces anymore. They’re just talking blobs now.

  “Where do you think the story came from, darling?” Grandmother comes to me and pushes my hair away from my forehead, which she gently kisses. “A silly, young girl angered the wrong wolf.”

  “And the prince?”

  “He was a witch.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know the spell,” Magnus says.

  “You think or you know?” Uncle Patrick says.

  Magnus shrugs. “I’ve seen the book. I think I can do it.”

  Grandmother’s eyes narrow. “How did you see the book?”

  “When I stole it and tried to break the curse.”

  “You what?” Grandmother’s hands are in her hair. There’s no perfect look today.

  “I stole the book from the safe and tried to break the curse.” Magnus points to Uncle Patrick. “It’s not like I’m the only one who’s tried.”

  Uncle Patrick sighs loudly. “We’ve all tried, Mother.”

  Grandmother pounds her fist on the counter, her face beet red. “Have you forgotten what happened to your sister? You know the only way I’ve kept anyone else in this family from dying is by promising that no one else will try!”

  Jasper flaps his hands nervously. “Candy is sick. We need to do something!”

  “Mom, you’re upsetting the kids,” Magnus says. “It’s okay, Jas. I know the spell. We’ll do it now.”

  My cousin continues to flap his arms. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  I love him. Jasper is always the voice of reason.

  “If this doesn’t work, we’ll do a blood sacrifice,” Grandmother says.

  “No, Mother. It won’t come to that. Dad would never forgive me.”
Uncle Patrick smiles at me briefly. “Let’s try the spell Magnus remembers. It’s our best hope.”

  “Can someone call my dad?” I ask. My skin is cold now. The room grows darker by the minute. “I don’t want to leave this world without saying goodbye.”

  Larkin grabs my hand. “You can’t die. You’re my best friend.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “No one’s dying today. Come on, guys, grab her hands.”

  Bennett nods and takes my hand. He offers Jasper his free hand. They link up with Larkin, who holds my other hand.

  “What now?” Bennett asks.

  Magnus steps forward. “Now you dig deep and focus on how you feel about Candy.”

  “Okay and . . .?” Larkin is always the impatient one.

  “Repeat these words: et hoc non est wolve morsu finem, hic servus vitam incipere,” Magnus says.

  Bennett says the words next while Larkin and Jasper say something that doesn’t sound quite right.

  My cousins are murdering Latin.

  Grandmother’s voice rises above the others. “You have to mean it, children. Belief is everything with magic.” She touches my good arm. “Darby, you have to say the words too.” Grandmother helps me sit up.

  “Et hoc non est wolve morsu finem, hic servus vitam incipere,” I say slowly.

  Together, the four of us repeat the words. Each time we say them my vision changes—becoming clearer and more focused. By the fourth time, my fever is gone and I can see Larkin kick Bennett. As we say the words for a sixth time, I sit up on my own, my skin tingling and blood surging toward my brain. Electricity shoots through my veins. I’ve been plugged to an outlet and someone flipped the on-switch. I scream the words one more time as my cousins drop my hands and step back with their mouths hanging open. Energy rushes through my body, burning the poison out of my system as quickly as it came.

  The ground quakes. Pots and pans hanging from kitchen racks, shake, and fall. The cabinets open; dishes and glasses crash to the floor. My family takes cover while I sit cross-legged on the kitchen counter, drawing power from the earth. I don’t know how I’m doing it, only that it’s the biggest rush I’ve ever felt.

  “Darby! Stop!” Grandmother says, dodging a flying casserole dish.