Max places both hands on the countertop, and leans in towards me. His biceps bulge. “He started to like it. He started to enjoy the advantages that came with being a wolf. He fell in love, with the very witch who turned him into the werewolf in the first place.”
“Wow,” I say. “Now that sounds like Hollywood.”
“Much too complex for Hollywood,” Max says, shaking his head. “They would destroy the nuances of the story. If you like, I can point you towards an excellent anthology that conveys the story in detail: ‘The Curse that turned into Love’. There are some steamy parts—I should warn you.” He winks at me.
“It sounds... interesting. It’s kind of a romance?”
“Historical paranormal romance,” Max says. “The story itself is quite good. It stays very true to the historical facts. I should know, I wrote it myself. I think you’d really enjoy it, Penny.”
All right! I think I’ve heard enough about Max’s skills as a writer of steamy historical fiction. It’s off topic, and besides that, my cheeks are so hot I don’t think I could blush any harder if I tried.
“I’ve—I’ve got about all of the reading I can handle right now, what with ASBW. I need to focus on that. But... thanks?”
“It’s here waiting for you, should the desire arise,” Max says, in a way that makes me wonder if he’s speaking about other things that are here in this apartment waiting for me, should the desire arise.
Namely, him.
I clear my throat. “Thanks,” I say stiffly. And then, “So... the first werewolf fell in love with the witch that cursed him. What happened after that?”
“They had children,” Max says. “A boy and a girl. When they were wolves, they were two different colors. The female was snow white. Her name was Lux—in Latin this means ‘light’. The male was midnight black. His name was Tenebris—meaning dark.”
“Light and dark. Of course,” I say.
“The two siblings did not get along. They fought ferociously, and ended up parting ways, and venturing off into different parts of the magical universe. Thus, two opposing clans were born.”
“Ug,” I say, placing my now empty glass on the countertop. “Don’t tell me that one clan is good, and one is evil. I told you that I don’t want to talk philosophy.”
Max straightens up so that he’s no longer leaning on the counter and reaches for my glass. He carries it to the sink, chuckling softly as he moves.
“No, nothing like that,” he says. “But one clan abides by the laws and conventions of the society in which they immerse themselves.”
“Let me guess,” I say. “The clan of Lux—light—obeys societies laws. The clan of Tenebris does not.”
Max surprises me by shaking his head. “I can see why you might think so,” he says. “That’s a very human conditioned response. Humans love to link up light and goodness; dark and evil. Try thinking like a witch, for a moment.”
I try. Nothing happens, so instead I use good old logic.
“Okay, then the clan of Lux disobeys the laws? And the clan of Tenebris—dark—obeys them?”
Max nods. “Why?” he asks.
I feel like I used to when I was in school, and a teacher would call on me to answer a question I was clueless about. “Uh...well... maybe...” I try to think of something witchy to say. Nothing comes.
Maybe I’m still more human than I’d like to admit.
I am still only on Cycle Two.
“Come on, Penny. Think in terms of magic.”
“Okay,” I say. “Well, for one thing, lots of people think of black as absence. You know—people talk about the void, when they look up at the night sky. But now that I’m a witch, I see how full the darkness is. When I’m practicing witchcraft, the dark night sky starts to feel like a blanket, heavy and soft and draped over me—a source of protection.”
“Good,” Max says, grinning. “You’re making more progress than I’ve given you credit for.”
I smile. It’s genuine. Max is one of the only fully magical people I know, and I care what he thinks about my development as a witch.
“Thanks,” I say. “But that’s about all I’ve got. Can we get back to talking about werewolves? There are at least two running loose in Hillcrest right now. I think it’s possible that one of them killed a man named Raul Rivera who was visiting town. I’m pretty sure Raul was a werewolf himself. The police are making arrests, but—”
“But they have no idea what’s really going on,” Max says, knowingly.
“Not in the slightest,” I say. “I just want to get a grasp on what we’re dealing with, here. I mean, I thought vampires were dangerous, but then I met you—and you’re not...” I look down at my fingers, and start fidgeting with them to avoid looking into Max’s eyes as I speak. “You’re... not so bad.” I chance a glance up at him, through my lashes.
Max lifts a brow and grins. He’s enjoying my discomfort.
Silence lingers between us for a minute.
I break it by clearing my throat as I pull my gaze from his. “Ahem! What I’m trying to say is, maybe it’s presumptuous of me to think that werewolves are bad. Maybe they’re nice.”
I pause, trying to gather my thoughts.
Then I say, “I mean, you’re saying that there are two clans—one obeys societies laws, and one doesn’t. You said that some werewolves can be dangerous, and I’m guessing you’re talking about the clan that doesn’t obey laws, right?”
Max nods.
“Okay,” I say. “I need to figure out what we’re dealing with here. I mean... this lawless Lux clan of wolves with white fur... Just how lawless are they? Do they, like, go into grocery stores barefoot, even when there's one of those little signs up that says ‘no shoes, no shirt, no service’?”
“Yes,” Max says. “They would definitely do that.”
“Do they take library books out, and return them five weeks late?” I ask. “Or—never at all?”
“They never return library books,” Max says. “And they don’t pay the fines. They get a kick out of that.”
“Do they ... steal?” I ask.
“Most assuredly.” Max says.
“Do they—make counterfeit money?”
“It’s their only form of Lux Clan currency.”
“How about arson. Would they set a building on fire?”
“With pleasure.”
“But, Max, they wouldn’t—would they?—no! Would they murder?”
“Yes. Murder is a way of life for the Lux clan of werewolves. Like breathing.”
My shoulders sag. That is not the answer I wanted to hear.
Chapter Seven
For the next hour, Max continues to teach me all about werewolves. I learn about how they interact with each other and with humans, how they live, and the way that the clans fight with each other over land.
Once I leave Max’s house, I have a really bad feeling about the trouble that might be brewing in Hillcrest. The sight of the muscular, massive white wolf loping off up the street, away from the Hillcrest Inn last night is ingrained in my mind. That was a lawless Lux wolf. I know, because his fur was pure, snow white.
Now that Max has given me information about werewolves, I’m eager to share it with my coven sisters, who also happen to be my knitting group.
I text Marley, and am relieved when she texts me back to say that our circle will have an emergency coven meeting at our friend Annie’s cafe.
The cafe, called the Death Cafe (it’s a long story), will be open for business, but Annie has asked one of her nephews to work the register while we meet.
The best thing about our plan is that Annie does all of the baking for the Death Cafe—and her baking is out of this world. I’m about ready for something sugary after all of that green slush I just ingested.
By quarter to one, Marley, Annie, Cora and myself are seated around one of the cafe’s small round tables, positioned in the back of the room. There’s a small lunch crowd in the cafe, ordering caffeinated drinks and sugary ba
ked goods to give them energy through the afternoon.
My coven sisters and I keep our voices down as we get right to business. We each have knitting projects spread out before us. We do our best thinking and talking while we knit. There’s something about the movement of our hands that helps us open up to each other.
“You guys, it was crazy,” Marley says, as her knitting needles click together. “I mean, Penny, wasn’t it crazy? We saw these two guys jump out of a window and by the time they landed, they had totally turned into wolves.”
“Are you sure?” asks Cora. She’s been flipping through her pattern book, but now she pauses and looks first at Marley, then at me. “That doesn’t sound possible.”
“We both saw it,” I say. “I don’t know how it happens, but it’s possible. I talked to Max today, and—”
“Oooo!” Cora says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“There’s nothing ‘ooo’ about it,” I say. “I needed to get information from him. He’s an expert in magic, Cora.”
Cora snaps her mouth closed. I might have sounded a little bit testy there. I can’t help it. I’m rattled from seeing Raul’s dead body, and my tense encounter with Max today hasn’t helped the state of my nerves. I have no idea where I stand with Chris, and that’s making everything worse.
I’m feeling raw.
“Anyways,” I say, “Yes, I visited with Max. He told me that there are two types of werewolves. One group has snow white fur, and they’re called the Lux clan. The others have black fur. They’re called the Tenebris clan. The Lux clan don’t follow the rules of society. The clans constantly war over territories. Max thinks that since we’ve spotted both a white and a black wolf, they’re currently battling over territory rights on the Earth Realm.”
“The whole earth?”
I nod. “That’s what Max said. He told me that Hillcrest Pass is the only portal into earth, and that Claudine and her Terra Coven had been successfully keeping it inaccessible to werewolves. When Claudine Terra died, news of the open portal took some time to spread through the realms. Apparently, the werewolves finally got the message.”
“That’s why they’re visiting?” Annie asks. She’s in the process of switching to a new color of yarn in the sweater she’s knitting. She leans over and reaches into her knitting basket as she waits for my answer.
“That’s what Max thinks.” I say. “I bet he’s right. He does have five hundred years of experience with this kind of thing, after all.”
Annie straightens, and holds up two balls of yarn. “What do you ladies think? Should I do pink next, or lavender?
We each hem and haw for a moment, and then unanimously decide upon the lavender yarn. Annie looks pleased, and starts setting it up on her needles.
“So did Max happen to say what these werewolves do, once they take over a territory?” asks Cora.
I nod. “He said that it depends on the clan. Like I said, the Tenebris clan plays by the rules of whatever society they move into. Max says that they like to stay under the radar. They usually settle down on the outskirts of town, out in the woods, and they don’t cause trouble. The Lux wolves, on the other hand—”
“They cause trouble,” guesses Marley.
I nod. “Yeah. Like, a lot of it.”
“So maybe the guy we saw wearing a trench coat killed Raul,” says Marley. She reaches for one of the brownies that Annie set out for us. “He was the one who turned into the white wolf. He must be one of these lawless Lux werewolves.”
I follow Marley’s lead, and help myself to a brownie too. It’s my second one so far, and our meeting is only five minutes in. I take a small bite. I’d better pace myself. “That’s what I’m thinking, too,” I say. “Max says that the Tenebris wolves don’t typically break rules. Murder is definitely against the law.”
“But the Lux werewolves—they like to break the law?” Cora asks.
“Max says they do it all of the time,” I say, my mouth full of brownie. My witch sisters don’t seem to mind my lack of manners. We have business to attend to! Who has time for chewing and swallowing before speaking?
Oops. The brownie is now entirely gone. I lick my fingers. So much for pacing myself!
Cora does shoot me one little look, though, that shows her disapproval. I know she hates it when I speak while my mouth is full. Her feathers must still be ruffled because of the way I snapped at her when she made fun of my visit to Max.
To appease Cora, I swallow and take a sip of peppermint tea (also served by Annie) before continuing. “I think that makes this white werewolf—the man with the long white ponytail—our number one suspect.”
There are nods all around the table.
For a moment, the only sound is the clicking of knitting needles.
Then, Annie speaks. “Even if this white haired, trench-coated gentleman didn’t kill Raul Rivera, he’s still a Lux wolf, which makes him dangerous.” She stops knitting, and looks directly at me. “If Max’s story can be trusted, that is.”
I nod. “Max is telling the truth,” I say. “I trust him. And he knows what he’s talking about. He even wrote a book about the original werewolves.” I blush just thinking about the ‘steamy’ parts of Max’s historical fiction piece.
“Penny,” Cora says, somewhat hesitant, like she’s afraid I might snap at her again. “Are you sure it’s wise to trust a vampire? I mean, how well do we know Dr. Max Shire, really?”
“I trust him,” I say. “Max wouldn’t lie to me. He’s my—he’s my friend.” I’m surprised at the defensiveness in my own voice.
I’m also surprised to find out that I truly feel like Max is my friend.
Sure, there’s a bit of tension between us, and that can be challenging to manage, but for the most part I really value our relationship. He’s given me a lot of help over there past few months, as I begin learning about my witchy powers.
“Alr-i-i-ight,” Cora says, stretching out the word and saying it in a sing-song voice. At first I don’t like the condescending lilt to her tone, but then I realize that maybe I’m being a little bit oversensitive.
Chill out, I tell myself.
I pick up a third brownie and take a bite, just to help me stay quiet for a minute.
Marley speaks up. “Max has never steered us in the wrong direction before,” she says. “He’s always given Penny good advice, and we’ve all benefited from it. I vote we trust him.”
“All in favor?” Annie says.
As a coven, we like to take spontaneous votes like these. Our democratic ways help us keep our meetings on track.
Once again, taking a vote works. We vote unanimously to accept Max’s version of werewolf history as truth.
“Where does that leave us?” Cora asks, once the vote passes.
“Well,” says Annie. “If this trench coat man is a lawless Lux wolf, I don’t think it really matters if he killed Raul or not. He’s dangerous, and we’ve got to run him out of Hillcrest—and out of the Earth Realm—for good.” She pauses, and looks around at us while we take that in.
Her words make sense to me. Except for one part.
I hold a finger up. “Except, it does matter,” I say. “If the Lux wolf killed Raul, we need to know about it. Because if he didn’t, that means someone else did—and I want to know who.”
“Good point,” says Marley, giving me a nod.
“Justice must be served,” says Annie. She’s also nodding in agreement.
I speak up again. “But you’re also right about one thing, Annie. We do have to get that Lux wolf out of here, whether he’s the killer or not.”
“He shouldn’t have gotten in through the portal in the first place,” says Cora. She’s pulled out a bag of raw almonds from her purse and she lifts a single one as she speaks. “If we were doing a proper job of guarding that portal, those wolves wouldn’t be here.”
She pops the almond into her mouth, and begins to chew.
I can’t help but make a comment. “Cora, how can you pass up ooey, gooey double
fudge chocolate brownies and eat raw almonds instead?” I wrinkle my nose. “Those things taste like tree bark.”
“It’s lunch time,” Cora says. “I can’t eat brownies for lunch.” She sounds horrified.
“Why not?” I ask.
I really want to know. As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, Cora is a role model in my life. She’s only about ten years older than me, but I think of her as a mother figure. My own mom passed away, like I said. I’ve got to have a few living role models, don’t I?
Cora really seems to have life figured out. She has a stable, well-paying career as a law office secretary, and she owns her house. Her eating and exercise routines are worth studying. She’s single, but even that seems admirable to me at this point, given the unhappy place I find myself with Chris.
I swear, sometimes when Cora’s around I feel like just observing her and taking notes.
“I can’t eat brownies for lunch, Penny, because I’ll get a stomach ache.” She speaks slowly, like I’m a young child.
Which, sometimes, I act like I am.
“Oh! A stomach ache. Right.” I set down the remainder of my brownie, and then wipe my hands carefully on a little white paper napkin.
“Maybe,” says Annie, “we should focus our attention on learning the Banishing Spell. It could help us do a better job of protecting the portal.” Our knitting mentor is getting us back on track, as always.
“Yes!” says Marley. She burrows into her purse, and pulls out her photocopied pages of ‘The Art and Science of Becoming a Witch’.
The rest of us watch her.
“Am I the only one who brought my copy?” she asks, holding up the thin packet of pages.
There are nods all around.
“I left my house at five this morning, to come into the cafe,” Annie says.
“I left at six,” Cora says. “Well before you called this emergency meeting. I didn’t know I’d be needing my ASBW pages today.”
“I left my house at.... er... eleven-thirty,” I say, somewhat embarrassed. “And I forgot to bring my copy.”
“That’s okay,” Marley says. “I’ll read.”
The Case of the Banishing Spell Page 8
