by M. D. Archer
Chris is giving me attitude as well. He’s pissed that I’m going away just as his big project finishes. But I need some time and space. Not just so that it’s easier to explain the changes to my body, but to figure out what to do about him. About us.
I’m upstairs packing when I hear Dana enter the kitchen through the back door. Damn, is she early? I look down at the scattering of clothes on my bed. What does one pack for a not-werewolf full moon freak out? I throw clothes into my sports bag, trying to cover all the possibilities—even though I have no idea what these could be—with leggings, comfy oversized shirts, jeans, and a couple of tanks. Just as I’m zipping up my overstuffed bag, the conversational murmuring downstairs changes.
“Why does it feel like you’re keeping something from me, Dana? What’s going on? This feels like… it reminds me of….” Mom trails off.
Even from up here I can feel the tension.
“C’mon, Kat, we’re just going away for a few days. I’m not taking her away from you. She’s your daughter. She always will be. But you can’t expect her to have the same relationship with you as she does with me.”
“Do you know what is going on with her, then?”
There is a loaded pause before Dana answers.
“What do you mean?”
“The last week, she has been different.”
Another pause.
“And she has lost weight…”
“So? We’ve been working out. Weren’t you telling me just a couple of months ago that you were worried about the weight she had gained over the last six months? You were wondering if you should say something.”
I grimace. Thanks a lot, Mom.
“Yes, but this seems a little drastic, and it’s like she’s hiding it.”
“She’s probably just self-conscious or something. She’s a teenager, Kat. You just have to let it go, I think.”
“Parenting advice from my childless kid sister.”
I can almost feel Dana react. That was mean, Mom. I grab my bag.
“Just because I can’t have kids doesn’t mean I’m useless, you know. I can still have valid opinions and give good advice. Being a mother doesn’t automatically make you the authority on everything.”
“I’m ready,” I yell out from the top of the stairs.
THE CABIN IS large, rustic, and set up in the mountains with the nearest house at least half a mile away. Dana unlocks the front door but before letting us in, uses her toe to nudge the little pot plant sitting in the corner.
“If you ever need to use the cabin, a spare key is under there.”
Tonight, the night before the full moon, we take glasses of red wine and gigantic bowls of Dana’s famous spaghetti bolognaise into the living room and make ourselves comfortable in the well-worn, kitschy, 70’s style furniture. I’ve already noticed the increased appetite Dana told me about, but I’m working out so much that the food just vaporizes. It’s like being an elite athlete, I think.
“Hey, so tell me about Nikolai’s family,” I say.
Dana gives me a look. “How’s Chris these days?”
“Come on, I’m just curious.”
“Fine. Okay. The Armandis. They are like the ultimate Consillium family. They have one of those consistent and prolific lineages that goes back many generations. Nikolai, his dad, his uncle, his grandfather… and the rest. They are all Consillium Principali. Nikolai will most likely end up being the head of a region, like Vincent, or his father, Alexis, who is head of East Coast. Or some other official Principali role. His uncle Rica is kind of a big deal too. He is the liaison to the London Consillium, which is like the head office. Well, head of the western sector, anyway.”
“So will Nikolai inherit his position in the Consillium Principali?”
“Not technically. Lucans get nominated to become junior CP, to enter training, but to actually become Consillium Principali they have to get selected by existing members. For Nikolai, because of his lineage, it’s pretty much a given. Supposedly, it’s open to anyone, but it’s a totally patriarchal system. Grandma Tessa tried to become one and she got as far as junior CP, but then didn’t make it through. She was pissed about that, I can tell you. Grandma Tessa was pretty badass, Tam. You would have liked her.”
I feel bad for Mom. Not only did she have to deal with her parents dying when she was little, but there were all these secrets, this legacy, that she didn’t know anything about.
“So… Nikolai is the one to watch, huh?”
Dana eyes me over the top of her wine glass.
WE SPEND ALL of the next day hiking, surrounded by beautiful scenery, but the pull of the moon is with me all day. As dusk nears, we fill our bellies and then settle inside with mugs of chamomile tea. The weather has turned and wind is now gusting impressively around outside. Normally I like this, being holed up while the weather rages outside, but tonight it’s different. It’s adding to my increasing volatility.
At dusk, we’re sitting, waiting, facing each other on the three-seater couch in the living room. I’m nervous. I just want this over with. Dana, looking a little nervous too, is clutching a small leather case. I nod at it. “What’s that?” There’s a tremor in my voice.
“Since I don’t know how this is going to go,” she says, “this being the first time I’ve done this, I brought a contingency plan.” Dana opens the case to reveal a syringe and a vial.
“Are you kidding? You’re going to drug me?”
“It’s just a sedative. For a worst-case scenario. I want to be prepared.” Suddenly she breaks off and stares out the window.
“What’s up?”
“I heard something.” Dana looks at me, clearly troubled. It’s not an expression she wears very often. “I was worried this might happen.”
“Dana, what is it?”
“Can’t you smell that?”
I’m about to shake my head when, just like that, I can. It’s all I can smell. A musky, earthy aroma. Lucan.
“Who is it?”
“It’s probably a Rogue who lives in the area. The full moon has ramped up his beastiness, made him more aggressive. Plus, there’s that whole beacon thing...”
“Really? The beacon thing still?” I sigh. “But wait, how do you know he’s Rogue? Because of his scent?”
“No, because he’s hunting you.”
“What?” I look at her in alarm.
And then I double over.
Oh God, what’s happening? My organs feel as if someone is squeezing them from the inside and my head is a white haze of fog.
“Dana, argh… what is this?”
Bent over, gasping, the full human spectrum of emotions passes through me in quick but intense succession. It’s as if I’m connected to every other person in the entire universe. Emotions pull at me, like in some kind of tortuous tug of war—sadness, love, disgust, pain, heartache, anger, pity, rage. They aren’t mine, but it feels like they are.
“Fuck!” Dana looks out the window then back at me, torn. But then the decision is made for her as the Rogue comes crashing through the side door. Flashing yellow eyes, hard lines of muscle, and violent intentions.
“Outside.” Dana grabs my hand and yanks me down the corridor through to the bathroom and laundry where there is another door. She pushes me through so that we’re in the clearing behind the house. I crouch down, panting, as the wind whips around us. My brain and internal organs feel like they’re being hammered by an enthusiastic wood chopper, but the Rogue standing in front of me doesn’t care. He just wants to rip out my throat. We eye each other as a primal rage builds inside me, taking over all other emotions.
With a growl, he launches himself at me, and I spring forward too.
Chapter 12
He’s lying on the ground in front of us, his head at a funny angle.
I don’t remember what happened.
“Just breathe, Tam, in and out, through your nose. Focus on being calm. Listen to me.” Dana has me by the shoulders and I’m bracing against her. Images of g
entle waves and calming beaches flood my head, and I know she’s trying to calm me down, but it’s not working. Her arms are starting to shake. I growl. I want to rip something apart.
“You need to find an anchor, Tam, something to ground you, to bring you in touch with your humanity. It’s usually a person.”
As another wave of rage bubbles up through my chest, I growl again, louder, and this time with intent.
“Tam! An anchor!”
I meet Dana’s eyes, large and yellow, and I can feel the energy transferring between the two of us. My reaction is making it harder for her to control herself. She’s doing her best to calm me down, but she is not my anchor.
Chris.
The recent distance between us doesn’t matter. He is still my rock.
“It’s Chris,” I gasp.
“Okay… good. Now think about him. Focus on a memory of a chill time you had together. Nothing, ah… exciting. A time when he calmed you down, maybe?”
I inhale and exhale evenly, drawing on memories of Chris hugs, feeling calmer with each breath, until I’m rocked by a realization.
Chris isn’t mine anymore.
I suddenly miss him with a ferocity I didn’t think was possible. I hadn’t felt much of anything in our relationship over the last year, but now, the impossibility of us continuing together is obvious and I feel like I’m being split down the middle.
“I have to break up with him,” I breathe, tears starting to slip down my cheeks.
Is it because of the full moon? Is this like a drunken decision that I’ll regret when I wake up in the morning, able to see clearly again? But deep down, I know it’s not. It’s been building for so long now. Finally, with the intensity of these emotions, I’m able to see it so clearly. Tears rain down my face as sadness replaces rage.
“Oh, Tam,” Dana says, pulling me into a hug, no longer needing to restrain me.
“He is such a good guy,” I sob, letting my tears soak her shoulder, “but I think it’s over.”
“It’s okay, Tam. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel sad. Just let it out.”
And so I do. I let it all out. I cry into Dana’s arms until there are no tears left.
THE NEXT DAY, the sound of a car crunching up the gravel driveway wakes me. I hear Dana get up to greet whoever it is, but I stay in bed and listen. It’s Vincent.
They start talking about the Rogue attack—the reason he’s here. I peek through the blinds. He’s standing at the trunk of his car with an overnight bag at his feet, handing Dana bag after bag of groceries.
Dana buried the body last night, but I was still mentally interring. I wish I could pretend it never happened. It was so shocking, but at the same time, seemed so natural. Dana said she was the one who actually killed him, but I feel like I did too, and I have a weird sense of detachment and guilt. Dana assures me this is normal. She also assured me, many times, that it was inevitable. He was out for blood. He went for us, and she had no choice. Rogue fights don’t always end in death, but if they are trying to kill you, which is much more common during the full moon apparently, then you have no choice. Sometimes killing them is the only way to end the fight.
Halfway through Dana and Vincent’s conversation, Dana’s head tilts in my direction and they fall silent. It takes a minute for me to realize that they are still talking, just with Lucan telepathy, but why? What is Dana saying that she doesn’t want me to hear?
When they disappear into Dana’s room with Vincent’s bag, I have a pretty good idea of what is going to happen next, so I pull on jeans, wrap a shirt around my waist, and run past their room to get outside.
I wander through the woods until I come to a stream where I plonk myself down.
Last night I had an epiphany about Chris, and today, in the sober light of day, I know it wasn’t a full-moon inspired break from reality. Even if we hadn’t grown apart over the last year, now that I’m Lucan, there’s no way I can be with him.
It’s over.
Tears run down my face as I reminisce about the years of love, affection, and mostly good times, but it already feels like ancient history. Love just dwindling, fading out to nothing. No, not nothing, I shake my head. That’s not true; it’s just that I’m not in love with him anymore. We’ve grown apart, we are on different life paths, and it’s time to move on. I push myself up, weary but at the same time a little lighter, having made a decision I think my subconscious had been wrestling with for a while.
Telling him is a hurdle for another day.
VINCENT STAYS FOR the remaining two nights of the full moon, helping me with my full moon madness. The pull from the moon was worse on the second night, but I was able to prepare myself better, and by the last night of the full moon, I was able to control myself without any help.
When I get up this morning, I feel a little less like a bus has hit me—maybe just a minivan.
“Am I going to feel like this every month?” I complain as I enter the living room, taking a cozy spot under the window. The wind has died down and it looks like today might be clear. Vincent hands me a coffee. “Yum, thanks.”
“The first one is intense,” Dana says. “But after that they calm down. Every full moon temporarily heightens your emotions, but nothing like what you have just gone through. You got through it, Tam. You should be pleased.”
I grin, hugging the coffee to me with pleasure. “Hey.” I point at the empty kitchen. “What’s happening with breakfast?”
“We’ll get to that in a second,” Vincent says. “We need to talk to you about something.”
I look from Dana to Vincent, hoping this isn’t going to be another lecture about not risking exposure. After the Rogue attack on the first night, they sat me down and reiterated the importance of staying away from Rogues, which was pretty unfair since I hadn’t exactly invited him here.
“There is a ritual that new Lucans undergo to become part of the Consillium community,” Vincent says, taking a seat opposite me.
“A ritual?”
“Well, more of a ceremony,” he says.
“Like a pledge, taking a vow of loyalty,” Dana adds. “Although we do spill a bit of blood, just from your hand.”
“Like in the movies!”
“Yes, Tam, like in the movies.” Dana exchanges an eye-roll with Vincent.
“The ritual needs to take place outside, so that we can be connected to the earth, and in an elevated place, usually at the top of a hill or a mountain. Where we are now is the perfect place,” Vincent says. “But pledging to the Consillium is voluntary, of course.”
“So just with us three?” I say, stalling. “Thanks for the warning, Dana.”
She shrugs.
“No,” Vincent responds. “We need at least a quorum, so I will invite a couple of other Lucans to come tonight. A couple closer to your age,” he adds. “If I tell them now, they can be here before the evening?”
“Uh, sure.” I look at Dana, feeling nervous. “Dana?”
“Hey, give us a second, will you, Vincent?” Dana says, standing up and motioning for me to follow her outside.
“I’ll get started on breakfast.” He nods, opening the fridge.
Dana and I amble down the path from the cabin. I finger the leaves on the trees as we walk. I feel so connected to everything. It’s like I’m tripping on some mildly hallucinogenic drug, and I know without asking Dana that this is a Lucan thing.
“I know we’re springing this on you,” Dana interrupts my communing with nature, “but I thought you would be keen?”
“Yeah, I just, I don’t know, suddenly everything seems so real and serious.”
“Now it seems serious? Not a couple of nights ago when a Rogue tried to rip you apart?”
“It’s just… it’s all so new and…” Part of me is resisting, and I don’t know why.
Dana stops walking, her eyes searching mine. “We don’t have to do this now, or at all. No pressure,” she says. “Just because I belong to the Consillium community doesn’t mean you have
to.”
“But wouldn’t that be weird?”
Dana shrugs. “It is what it is. As long as you don’t cause trouble, you can still be Lucan and not part of the community.”
“Did you have any doubts?”
Dana shakes her head. “Grandma Tessa had a kind of love-hate relationship with the Consillium, and I, maybe because of that, stayed away from all her Consillium drama. I was part of the Consillium, but only nominally. For the most part I kept my head down, got my degree, started writing, and just got on with life. But when I moved here, when your Mom was giving me a hard time, I needed family. I needed some sort of community, and after I met Vincent, I got more involved. It’s been great for me.”
We carry on walking. I get the feeling Dana would be happy either way, and this makes me feel a lot better. There is no pressure. I can do what I want to do. I don’t have to join the Consillium community if I don’t want to.
LATER, AS THE sun settles in the sky, a sleek, black, expensive looking car pulls into the driveway. A frisson of excitement accompanies the sight of Nikolai emerging from the driver’s side. He is one of the two Lucans that Vincent invited.
He raises his hand in greeting to me before pulling two bags out of the trunk. My eyes travel over his arms. He has the same tattoo on his shoulder as Vincent—two Cs gracefully entwined.
A striking redhead who is unexpectedly short and impossibly muscly leaps out of the car and throws her arms around Vincent, then Dana. Spotting me standing on the porch, she climbs the stairs to where I am.
“I’m Ruby.” She pulls me into a hug.
Even though I’ve just met her, hugging her is like embracing family, and I get it. They are family.
Nikolai reaches the top of the stairs carrying both bags with ease. “Nice to see you again.”
“Thanks for coming,” I say to him, then adding Ruby in as well, trying out a three-way Lucan telepathic conversation. “Thanks to both of you.”
