Hunter Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel #2 (23 page)

“I just love the smell of crayons. Don’t
you?” she asked and actually bent to sniff the crayon. As for
myself, I never really thought about it, so I stayed silent.

“Okay, I want you to brew this tea tonight
before bed. Make sure the water is boiling not tepid when you brew
it! This is important. Also light this candle by the window, the
closer you can get it to a moonbeam the better. Now, let me walk
you downstairs. Sweet Angela is just finishing her pedicure. I do
love that girl. Her grandmother was a genius, you know.”

We had been up there longer than I thought. I
followed her down the steps having placed the candle and the pouch
with the tea in the pocket of my new jeans. I wondered what Uncle
Sean would say if he knew I’d done this. I tried not to think about
it.

“Hello Angela, how is your father then?”
Sherry kissed Angela’s cheek and my friend blushed prettily. “I
have got the greatest thing ever for your gorgeous curls my sweet
girl! Let me get it in the backroom while I get Grazi her face
wash.”

“I didn’t want any-” I stopped when Angela
looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Um yeah, thanks. I, uh, went to ask for some
advice on cleansers for my skin.”

“But Grazi, your skin is totally clear.”

“Well, I want it to stay that way.” I smiled,
a little weakly I admit, but she seemed to buy it. Sherry came back
shortly with a bag for each of us. She pulled me over to the side
while Angela paid her bill and whispered in my ear.

“You won’t need another hair removal
treatment as long as you use this face wash and this lotion the
week before and the week after the full moon. Don’t worry I have
many female Werewolf clients who buy this and it works great. It is
completely natural.” I felt my cheeks heat up. Being a Werewolf was
cool, but it did have its side effects.
I’m such a
freak.

“It is no big deal, use it. On the
house.”

“But I can pay-”

“Next time.” She smiled and swept out of the
room. I was glad she had whispered about my little um, problem. I
was a tad embarrassed. I mean what teenage girl likes to discuss
upper lip hair?

Angela had her driver take me home first and
I promised to text her later. I brought my new things to my room
and sat looking at all the bags. I had never been shopping like
this before in my life.
Maybe I really did have buyer’s
remorse.

I put all of my new things away. Lingering on
the pouch and candle from Sherry. Where should I put that? I
decided on the same drawer where I kept my mom’s diary. I gathered
the things I bought Nonna and went to the kitchen to find her. She
had the small TV on in the corner and was watching a soap opera
when I walked in. She was brewing some herbal tea.

“
Ciao
, Maria.”

“
Ciao
, Nonna.” I kissed her cheek and
handed her the package.

“What for me? Why you waste your money?” I
could tell she was pleased though by her smile. She always looked
younger when she smiled. Nonna opened her salt and candle.

“Beautiful, Maria. Thank you.” She placed the
candle on the windowsill and put the jar of pink Himalayan sea salt
next to her ever present bottle of pure olive oil. She always kept
that and salt and black pepper within easy reach of the stove for
when she cooked. Which of course, was always. My stomach rumbled
and she laughed, but it didn’t sound happy.

“Hungry again,
si
? The roast will be
ready soon and mashed potatoes. Go wash up and come back in half an
hour. Then we go to church?” I could hear the question in her
voice. I always went to Church with Nonna. But I guess lately I had
been busy, you know, with Werewolf stuff. I nodded my head. Tonight
I’d go. I sort of missed the peace that went along with attending
Mass with her.

Church was pretty empty for a Saturday night.
The pews had lost their furniture polish smell. It was replaced by
the stronger scent of burning candles and incense. More people
seemed to attend Mass during the holidays. Fr. Verrell often added
Masses during the season to accommodate members.

He gave a brief homily focusing on the
importance of giving during the holiday season. It was usually the
Church’s busiest time of year. That mad rush of people wanting to
clear their consciences doing good for the poor from before
Thanksgiving till New Year’s. I suppose a lot of them were
hypocrites, but
we
always gave. Besides I don’t think God
cares
when
you help, just as long as you do.

Nonna had me bring in two grocery bags with
canned goods and other non-perishables for the food pantry. She was
a regular donor, but went all out during the holidays including
some of her homemade jams and jellies. We’d be baking pies next
week for the service club that provides Thanksgiving dinners to
families who cannot afford it.

Wow. Thanksgiving was soon! And with it my
birthday.
Sixteen.
I couldn’t believe I was going to be
sixteen. So much has passed in my sixteen years. I looked down at
my hands. They were rough and callused from my years of yard work
and the past few weeks of learning to fight and spar.

I had never thought of myself as a
particularly physical or violent person. I found I liked it. Not
violence, but exercise. If I was being totally honest with myself I
could admit I enjoyed sparring with Cara. Ooh and of course my runs
with Ronan. Maybe it was the Wolf in me? I didn’t know. I needed to
ask her. If she would just answer me.

As soon as Mass was over we went outside and
got into Uncle Vito’s pick-up truck. He was on time as usual. The
engine revved and the familiar smells of weed killer, mulch, and a
variety of other things having to do with his garden center hit me
head on.

He winked cheerfully as he pumped up the
volume on his old Bruce Springsteen CD. He sang along with
Thunder Road,
pleasantly off key as usual. I was genuinely
fond of my mother’s brother and I smiled at his antics.

“I don’t know how you stand this man! He’s
not Sinatra. I’m telling you, Vito. Now that was a
real
singer,
si
.” It was the same old argument. Nonna and Uncle
Vito often argued singers. Especially those two Jersey boys.

“Mama, Bruce Springsteen, is the single most
popular rock star to come out of New Jersey. It’s a fact.”

“Frank Sinatra is the biggest star.”

“I hate to butt in, but you are both
forgetting other famous New Jersey natives like Connie Frances, Bon
Jovi, Queen Latifah, the Jonas Brothers!” I laughed as they really
went at it. Both arguing for their favorites.

We got home to find the house empty. Aunt
Theresa had Rebecca with her at a mother daughter tea and Julianna
was out. Uncle Vito went to his room after kissing his mom
goodnight and patting my head.

“I go lay down now, Maria.
Buona
notte
.” Nonna looked tired. I gave her a kiss and she headed up
the stairs.

“Night Nonna.” I went to the back door and
opened it. I could hear, just faintly, the strains of a piano
pouring through the night. It was lovely.

Mmm, Ronan.
I listened for a moment
before heading upstairs to my room. So many changes, so many
secrets. How was I to handle them all? A Werewolf? An heiress?
Sebby? Ronan? A prophecy? Dreamwalker?

It was like a million voices were crying out
at me for attention. There was only one I wanted to hear, but she
was still silent. As the dead.

I took the pouch and candle from the drawer
by my bed along with the little note Sherry had written me. Per her
instructions I placed the candle on the windowsill and lit it. Soft
moonlight shone down. I placed the candle directly in a moonbeam.
That was a good sign, right?

I plugged in the electric kettle I had
brought upstairs and waited for it to whistle. When the water was
boiling I poured it in my favorite yellow duck shaped mug. The
contents of the pouch sizzled when the water hit them and turned
blue for a moment.

I let it steep for three minutes as per the
note. The room filled with the smell of herbs. Most of which I
recognized. The subtle fragrance of cinnamon and apples underneath
it all, like Sherry’s
anima magicae
.

I reread the last line in her note.
Drink
the tea and focus on the candle flame. Do this for as long as it
takes. Keep your questions in your mind and she will hear you.
Whether she answers or not that is up to the Wolf.

I sipped the hot tea. It scolded as it went
down my throat. Still I found the aroma and after effects soothing.
Hypnotizing even. I stared at the candle flame and wondered as it
changed from yellow to blue then white. The scent it gave off
reminded me of pine needles and snow and Ronan. I wanted to keep
him off my mind. I tried to, but there he was.
With me.

I felt a familiar hum of electricity in the
air. I got so excited I wanted to shout, to yell, to dance. I
forced myself to remain silent and continued to stare at the flame.
And
voila
! There she was, my Wolf. I had never felt so
happy, angry and relieved all at once before. Then I noticed her
position. She was curled on the floor. Tired.

Hello, little one
.

What’s wrong? Why haven’t you answered?

I have. You just didn’t listen.
She
sat up and tilted her head. She settled back down almost
immediately.

What is it? Are you ill?

It’s okay, you are safe. Not ill. I am
changing I think. We are more than what I am. You need to ready
yourself for what is coming.

How can I do that without you?

I will try and be more responsive. But you
know what it is I am gearing up for.

An image appeared in my head. A boy. Sickly,
dirty, tied to a bed. A bat faced fiend sucking blood from a
vicious bite wound in his arm. I became enraged and my Wolf, she
snarled.

Yes, we must bring him back, but we have to
wait. One moon more and he will be ready.

What do you mean?

You know what I mean. You simply have yet to
understand.

Will you be okay?

Of course. So will you. We are one. Let me
rest. You will need me soon.

I opened my eyes and the first thing I
understood was hours had passed. The candle was burned down to
nothing and the tea in my cup was iced over. I kept the thermostat
in my room low, but this seemed too much to be natural.

I opened a window and the chilled night air
swept through my room erasing the smell of candle fire and magic
tea. The Dreamcatcher over my bed that Alessio had made me danced
in the breeze. It seemed larger than before. As if it had indeed
caught a few dreams or nightmares and swallowed them up.

My cell phone buzzed.
Uh oh.
I missed
a training session. Ronan was texting me again. I ran to the
bathroom and washed my face. By the time I got downstairs it was
dark and quiet. Nonna left me a turkey on rye toast as a midnight
snack. My stomach rumbled and I ate quickly. I tied my new Nikes
and left the house quietly as I could. If I hurried I’d catch
him.

I ran around to the back and headed into the
woods. I sniffed the air.
That way
. I ran as quickly as I
could and that was pretty fast, but he was angry. I could smell it
on him. I hurried, but he was faster still.

“Ronan! Ronan. Wait!” He ignored me.
Great! What did I do?
Finally I was one length behind him
and we were going uphill. He was always slower uphill than I was. I
grabbed his shoulder and he finally stopped. He was breathing heavy
and his green eyes looked cold in their anger.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I-”

“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know! Grazi,
you can’t mess with Witches. It’s not right. Candles and magic! I
saw you. If
I
did, anyone could!”

“Well, who else could see me? Why would you
be looking at me through my widow anyway?”

“I was worried about you. You didn’t answer
my texts.”

“I heard you playing. I didn’t want to
disturb you.”

“Why? Why go to the Witch?”

“Look I know it’s hard for you to understand
because you’ve been told your whole life Witches are bad and all,
but Sherry is
not
bad. She’s good. Her magic smells like
apple pie for Pete’s sake! How could she be bad?” Ronan grunted,
but I could tell he wasn’t ready to agree.

“For my sake, will you just try to have an
open mind? The tea helped me relax and the candle to focus so I
could talk to my Wolf. There were no spells.
She
wasn’t
answering and I was scared.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Do you talk to yours?”

“Well, it’s not talking so much as you and I
can, but impressions. Occasionally there are words, but our
language is more imagery and physical. You are the only Werewolf I
know of who speaks to her Wolf regularly. It usually takes years to
form such a strong connection. Only the ancient and the wise have
succeeded with that level of communication.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I just, I
felt lost without it.”

“I’ll try and understand, Maria. Just, talk
to me. So I know what’s going on with you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We ran back in silence. Ronan was still
angry, but I understood it for what it was now. He was worried.
About
me
. It was strange and new. This feeling of having to
explain what I was doing to someone else.
Because he
cared
. I am not sure how much or in what way. But he
does.
That much I know. It warmed me, that knowledge. That
there was someone out there who wanted to keep me safe.

We slowed to a walk and stopped before we
headed home, to my backyard. I felt foolish and nervous. It just
occurred to me it was the middle of the night. All was quiet and I
was alone with Ronan. Suddenly the woods felt too small. Or we were
too close. Or both.