First Full Moon

by Michelle Alstead

  Uncle Patrick and Uncle Daig reach us. “Larkin figured you’d try to save your grandmother without giving up the book,” Uncle Patrick says.

  “Your father would kill us all if something happened to you,” Uncle Daig says.

  The rest of my uncles murmur in agreement.

  Aunt Pam smiles, touching my hair. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday, but I’m glad you got your gift.”

  I know she means the jacket, but I can’t help thinking that being surrounded by my family at the worst moment in my life—is the best gift ever.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  There’s noise inside the building. Shots are fired.

  Uncle Patrick yanks open the bolted side door, growling. “Come on!”

  We file in after him, nearly stepping on the guards. Somehow I manage to be upfront, leading the charge down the long hallway. When we reach the lobby of the building, I skid to a stop.

  Branson’s men—every last one of them—is on the floor. Some are bleeding and moaning. Others lay still, their arms and legs ripped from their bodies. I expect to see Claire’s army, but it’s just her standing in the center of the room, holding a knife to my grandmother’s throat. Claire’s right arm is ripped open; blood pours from an artery splattering across the white marble floor. Branson, battered and bleeding too, holds the Grimoire in one hand and a bloodied dagger in the other.

  “Don’t hurt Branson!” Larkin blurts out.

  “Larkin!” Bennett hisses.

  Aunt Pam steps out, her hands up. “Let’s talk about this Claire. No one else has to get hurt tonight.”

  “I want the book,” she replies. Blood is smeared across her forehead and down her cheek. “I don’t care who gets hurt as long as I get what I want.”

  Grandmother’s face is pained. “Do not give her the book. It’s the only chance the children have at a better life.”

  “Shut up!” Claire stomps her foot.

  “No, Grandmother,” my grandmother says with a sneer.

  “Have I told the entire lot of you how much I hate you all?” Claire asks, pressing the knife into Grandmother’s skin.

  “Don’t you hurt her!” I yell.

  “And there she is. The star of our show.” Claire glances over her shoulder as the waiters from the restaurant file in behind her. “Where have you all been?”

  Our waiter from that night at the pizza restaurant speaks. “There was dinner rush.”

  All in all, there’s at least thirty muscular, young men growling behind Claire.

  “We’ll give you the book. Just let my grandmother go,” I say, walking toward her.

  “Why should I? I know you had to use magic to get the book back. It’s the only way anyone could have gotten to it after what your father did.” Claire brings her lips together.

  My father took the book, which means he must have put it in that room. But why do that? Why take it at all?

  “There’s no way you have any magic left to use,” she says.

  I glance over my shoulder at Bennett, Larkin, Ryan, and the rest of my family before I answer. “I don’t need magic. I have family.”

  Larkin joins me. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” She takes my hand.

  Bennett steps beside her, taking her hand. “Because your family is all dead.”

  Jasper appears, taking Bennett’s hand. “We think you should join them.”

  And with that, the four of us charge Claire’s army with my uncles and Aunt Pam not far behind. Ryan decks a guy on my right while I sweep the legs and punch another one in the face.

  Out of the corner of my right eye, I see Grandmother turn on Claire, throwing an elbow to her face. Claire stumbles back, still holding that knife.

  Someone grabs me from behind, I lean forward dumping the young man squarely over my shoulder and onto the floor.

  I push through the chaos—fists are flying, pointy canine teeth are gnashing, and my family members are bleeding—but I see only Grandmother. When I reach her, she’s squared off with Claire.

  “Stay back, sweetheart. This is my fight,” Grandmother says, assuming a fight stance.

  “You were always my least favorite grandchild,” Claire says, circling her.

  “You killed my daughter.” Grandmother growls, lunging forward. She throws a right hook that connects with Claire’s temple, but it’s not enough.

  Claire stabs Grandmother as she takes the swing.

  “No!” I scream, racing forward and catching her as she falls.

  Grandmother touches her side, blood is pouring from her body. She draws a shaky breath. “It’s okay, Candy. I’m going to be okay. I’ll be with your grandfather.”

  Tears blind me. “What do you mean?” I ask with a sob.

  Grandmother’s cheeks lose color. “You’ll know soon enough.” She coughs, blood spilling from her lips. “You can break the curse. I believe in . . .” Her eyes roll back in her head as a gasp escapes her lips.

  My grandmother is dead.

  And Claire killed her.

  Laying her body down gently, I turn to face Claire, my hands covered in blood.

  Claire clutches the Grimoire, still holding the knife.

  “You just killed the only mother I had,” I say through clenched teeth. Anger rises, heating my skin from the inside out.

  “You have a mother. Why don’t you be a smart little girl and go find her? Oh, that’s right. She doesn’t want to be found.” Claire grins.

  With a yell, I race forward tackling her around the knees, knocking the book from her hand. With all my might, I punch her as hard as I can in the ribs. Claire grabs me by the hair, throwing me off. I land in a crouching position, ready to attack again. She spits blood, wiping her mouth with her blouse sleeve.

  “You can’t kill me,” she says. “You do and your precious grandmother died for nothing.”

  Slowly, I stand up. She’s right, but I desperately want to rip her throat out. I’d kill her just to put an end to the grief tearing my soul apart.

  But it’s not what Grandmother would want.

  I drop my guard. “Leave now and I’ll let you live.”

  Claire laughs. “Look around, darling! I’m winning.” She bends down and scoops up the book.

  I glance around. My family is struggling to hold off Claire’s men. Aunt Pam holds her arm while Uncle Daig stands protectively in front of her, struggling with two men.

  Bennett’s close to losing his fight. Larkin comes to his aid, punching Bennett’s attacker in the kidneys and bringing him to his knees. Ryan, battered, but still standing goes to Jasper’s aid as he falls.

  “I won’t let you take the book.” I don’t have a plan. I’m still too weak to channel magic.

  But I will not let Claire take one more thing from me.

  “It’s cute you think you can stop me.” Claire turns and yells. “Kill them all!”

  To kill a wolf, you have to either cut its head off or drain the magic that made it a wolf in the first place. Both are near impossible. It’s not the words, Candy. It’s the intent.

  In two long strides, I cross the room and grab Claire by the neck. She tries to push me off, but I jab a finger into her open wound causing her to scream in pain.

  My hands find her throat as I pin her down on the ground.

  “You can’t kill me, Candy.”

  “I know. I don’t have to. That’s Mother Nature’s job,” I reply, closing my eyes and conjuring up the little Latin I remember. “Redi, quid furto sublatus! Redi, quid furto sublatus! Redi, quid furto sublatus!”

  Claire’s hair turns white as her skin dries out. “What have you done?”

  “I’ve restored the balance at least as far as you’re concerned.” I stand up.

  Her body shrivels up, her muscles and skin deteriorating into the body of a one-hundred-thirty-six-year-old woman. There’s a death rattle as Claire exhales one final time. The great and powerful Claire McGregor is reduced to a pile of ash that disintegrates before my eye
s.

  One of her men steps up beside me. “She’s dead.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey guys! We can stop fighting! She’s dead!”

  There’s a loud chorus of enthusiastic cheers and the fight is over. Claire’s men run back out the same way they came in. Larkin picks up Branson, wrapping her arm around his waist while my uncles and I make our way to grandmother’s body.

  Kneeling down, I gently close her eyes. “This isn’t goodbye, Grandmother. It’s just ‘see you later’,” I say quietly.

  Ryan is by my side. I collapse into his arms.

  “I got you,” he whispers.

  I look up as he carries me from the building. “Promise you’ll never let go?”

  “Promise.”

  I rest my head against his shoulder; softly crying until fatigue overtakes me again.

  Nothing will ever be the same again.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I stand at my bedroom window. The sky is gray as a storm settles in. Fat raindrops slide down the glass merging into blobs as they collide with other drops.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. My hands go to my head, trying to squeeze the frustration from my brain. “Grandpa is dead?”

  The words don’t make any sense.

  I’m sorry, kid. He was killed the night of the full moon.”

  “But I saw him in the garage.”

  It wasn’t a hallucination. Grandpa was there, and he didn’t want a hug.

  “Witches can see the dead,” Magnus speaks quietly. His skin is red and blotchy. “It’s why you are the only one who saw him.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  Could it have been the Full Moon Killer? Or was it one of our many enemies.

  Magnus stands in the doorway. He tugs his jacket zipper up and down over and over again. “We were looking for a way to tell you and then—”

  “Then Grandmother was killed,” I say.

  You can’t tell by the world outside that my life, as I knew it has ended. Everything looks exactly the same. Doesn’t God know the most wonderful grandmother just died? Shouldn’t there be some sign she was taken too soon?

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to find my dad. He has to come home.”

  “I’m on that too.” Magnus hangs his head.

  Overnight he became an orphan. His grief torments us both, but I refuse to let it in. If I allow myself to feel how much losing my grandparents hurts, I won’t ever recover.

  “Let me know when you find my dad.” I face the window again.

  Ryan pulls up in front of my house. He probably wants to talk—no, he wants to plan. We have the Grimoire now, but we still need the Viking Queen’s talisman and a celestial event.

  Just our luck there’s a blue moon coming.

  “Candy?”

  “Yes, Magnus?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  Everyone’s sorry. The two people who’ve been there for me my entire life are gone now. And everyone’s sorry.

  Slowly, I pivot to face him. “Will you be okay?”

  He attempts a smile. “Always.” He clears his throat. “I better go. I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  “Okay. See ya.”

  When he’s gone, I go to my night stand and open the bottom drawer. Is there something in the box that will help me? Maybe it’ll tell me more about my mother. Sitting down on my bed, I wave my hand over the lid. It obliges, opening to reveal a small hardbound book. Carefully, I open it. The white pages are yellowed in the corners. The text is written in blue ballpoint ink that’s smeared in places. I recognize the handwriting—it’s my mother’s.

  Dear Candy,

  If you’re reading this then I have failed.

  “Candy?” Ryan stands in my doorway. His cheeks are pink as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

  Holding the book, I stand up. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your dad.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s been taken.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Michelle Alstead has wanted to be a writer since she read her first novel (a riveting story about ducks). First Full Moon is her eighth published novel. The sequel, Blue Moon, will be published in early 2019.

  For information about when Blue Moon and Michelle’s other novels will be available, please sign up for her mailing list at http://michellealstead.com/sign-up-for-our-email-list/