Wolf Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel

CHAPTER 4

  "Maria, you see this? On the news? Two animal attacks at the park behind the middle school in Dover. Oh, this poor boy!" I had just finished loading the dishwasher, and I looked over Nonna's shoulder at the newspaper article she was reading. There was a picture of a young boy, eleven or twelve. It was a school photo, he wore glasses and had curly brown hair. His body was found ravaged and bloody after he was attacked by what local police officers believed to be a rabid wild animal. I didn't recognize him, but I felt bad. There was another photo of his parents, his mother caught in an agonized scream and his father moving to catch her as she fell. What a horrible picture to put in the newspaper! Putting someone's raw, unfiltered grief on display to sell papers was despicable. Well, I thought so anyway.

  "You see another, look! The poor man. This other was a vagrant, they found him by the lake. Madonna mia! You be careful when you go jogging, capisce? Animal control says it's a bear or maybe a dog with the rabies. Say a prayer to the Blessed Virgin to watch over you, si? Now, come here, sit and have some cocoa with me."

  "Nonna, it's too hot out for cocoa. I'm fine, really."

  "Cocoa is good anytime, come on, now I put the whipped cream, si! It's very nice."

  "Sure, Nonna," I smiled and sat down at the kitchen table and waited as she poured me a mug of steaming hot cocoa. She topped it off with a generous dollop of freshly whipped cream. I inhaled deeply expecting sweetness, but I could smell something was off. I looked at my grandmother, her gray curls frizzy in the humid air, she wore a soft pink short sleeved shirt and white shorts, slippers on her feet. She looked at me expectantly. I didn't want to hurt her feelings I took a sip. Yuck! Bitter. I managed to swallow and smile without throwing up all over the table.

  "So, Maria, how is school? This boyfriend, you bring him here to meet me."

  "Nonna he's just a friend."

  "Yes, well that is good too. You need to be a good girl and study. No time for boyfriends, si? Drink your cocoa, come on."

  "I'll take it to my room, Nonna. We have to bring in the harvest tomorrow before everything burns up outside in this heat and I need my sleep. Goodnight." I kissed her head and headed to my room. Technically I wasn't lying to her. I did bring my bitter cocoa to my room. I just didn't drink it.

  That night the temperature held at 85 degrees. Not hot for noon, but for a fall night it was unbearable. I walked to my large bedroom window and opened the pale, yellow curtains. The moon was bright and full. A large golden disc so close I could touch it. It called to me. Tempted me. I wanted to run. I wanted to be free. Free from everything. I was fast and strong, wasn't I? Stronger than I could ever dream.

  I felt powerful and fearless. I opened the window all the while staring at the moon. Dry, hot air greeted me. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my head and down my spine. My breathing increased, my stomach cramped. I crouched down clutching my abdomen. I must have knocked my mug onto the polished wood floor because I could smell the bitter cocoa filling my lungs. It hurt to breathe. I remember crying out and swatting at the stink of it. Soon afterwards I heard footsteps and my door swung open. It was that new priest, Fr. Gallagher, and my grandmother. They were arguing. I heard the priest's Irish accent as he spoke in clipped sentences.

  "Did you give her the Aconitum?"

  "Yes, I put it in her tea all month and the cocoa tonight too."

  "But did she drink it?"

  "She said so, si!"

  "But you didn't watch her drink it. Look there, it's all over the floor! You've kept her in the dark too long, Rosa. The girl should have been told."

  "I have watched her and protected her. I didn't know we had so little time. Maria, bambina mia, look at me it's going to be okay, just breathe!"

  "The signs have been there all along! You chose not to know! Damn it, Rosa, if she changes now, we won't be able to control her!"

  "It is not your place, Sean! I will make her drink more cocoa, she will not change!"

  "Get back, Rosa! There is no time!"

  "You change too, si, and watch her! God, please save my granddaughter!"

  "No, I, I can't. I drank it too, I am too weakened. Just get the length of Gleipnir from my bag!"

  I could barely make out their words. I didn't understand what they meant, but I knew one thing. This priest was disrespecting my Nonna, and I wasn't having that. I lunged across the room and pushed him away from her. And yes, I think I growled too.

  "Maria! No! Stop!"

  Fr. Gallagher crashed into the shelf and fell to the floor. He staggered to his feet and I circled him. I breathed in the acrid stench of his fear. It excited me and it scared me. What was happening? Another cramp and I was back on the floor. I could hear my bones cracking. My God, was I dying? I started to pray in my mind in earnest. Our Father, Who Art in Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name? And then there was no pain. I opened my eyes.

  My vision was somehow askew. I tried to stand. Something was off. I fell down! Scared. Angry. Confused. I cried out and heard something else. Not my voice! Panic welled up in my chest. I was panting. Tearing at my furniture, my bedspread with, not my hands. Were they claws? I howled in panic then something large with shaggy blonde fur hit me from the side. Long teeth nipped at me, and I turned to defend myself. I remember biting and growling. Then something soft and long landed around my throat, someone pulled it tight, and then everything went black.

  The next day I woke up on top of my covers. I was dressed in an old nightgown. I didn't remember changing my clothing. Were these my old teddy bear sheets? Where did they come from? I reached around my throat, there was nothing there. I could have sworn something was around my neck during the night. My room was clean and smelled good, like clean linen air freshener. No spilled cocoa on the floor or shards of my broken mug. My curtains were closed. Everything seemed normal. I rubbed my eyes and my stomach grumbled loudly. I headed to the bathroom.

  "What the heck!" My normal dull brown hair was hanging down my back in a tangle. That was not unusual. What was unusual was the brilliant streak of pale gold that shot down the front of my hair. An entire strip of hair about an inch and half thick, from root to tip, completely golden. My hand trembled as I reached up to touch it. Nope, it didn't come off. Definitely part of my hair. But how? I brushed my teeth hurriedly and washed my face with glycerin soap and ice-cold water. I quickly pulled on a pair of drawstring shorts and a t-shirt. I was super hungry and I needed some answers. I needed Nonna.

  Downstairs the house was quiet. I looked around the kitchen. The clock on the microwave glowed a sickly green. It was past noon. Saturday. The girls would be shopping with their mother. Uncle Vito would be at his greenhouse and Nonna? Where was she? I opened the fridge and started picking on leftovers. My stomach was really growling now, and I shoved food in my mouth without even looking. I heard a creek in the floorboards. Fr. Gallagher was standing there. He leaned against the doorframe. In a pair of faded jeans, beat up hiking boots, and a black t-shirt. Not usual garb for a priest. A bandage was wrapped around his left forearm.

  "We need to talk, inion dearthar."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Like I said, we need to talk."

  "Were you in my room last night?" Shivers ran up and down my spine as I stared at the unfamiliar man in my kitchen.

  "Where's Nonna? What happened last night?" I looked down at the cold food in my hand and was disgusted by what I had inhaled in the last two minutes. "Oh my God, is this salmon? I hate salmon!" I covered the bowl I was eating from and thrust it back into the fridge.

  "Your body is craving protein. Salmon is an excellent choice, inion dearthar. Your grandmother has given me permission to speak with you, Maria Graziana. Come now and sit down."

  "What's an inion dearthar?" Something was wrong. I didn't know why, but this man put my hackles up.

  "I've got things to tell you."

  "I don't mean to be rude, Father, but it's a little creepy you wanting to speak with me alone."

  "Don't you want to kno
w about your father, Grazi?"

  "My father! Did you know him?"

  "Yes, I knew your father. Patrick was my older brother by three years."

  "You're my uncle? I have an uncle?"

  "You've got two uncles on your da's side. Michael is back in Ireland. It's complicated."

  "Why haven't you come before this?"

  "Your grandmother didn't want you to get to close to us if there was no need."

  "Why would she do that? Why would she not want me to know about you?"

  "Maria, you must try to keep your head. We don't have much time. The first battle is on St. Lucy's Eve, and you must be ready."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "That is what I am talking about. Hell. And demons trying to claw their way out of the pit and into our world."

  "Okay, I'm going to call the police now, you just stay there." Before I moved he walked over to me and put his hand on my arm, his voice was firm but not unkind.

  "We fight them, Maria. We are Werewolves, the Hounds of God. I am currently the pack Beta, and I have come to train you, inion dearthar."

  I stared at the man before me. I saw blue eyes, like the ones that shone from the wedding picture of my parents that I kept in my room. The curve of his cheek, the wave in his gray streaked blonde hair, were they familiar too? I couldn't tell. His accent wasn't thick, but I could hear the Irish lilt coming through loud and clear. He smelled like peppermint and rosemary. I tried to focus on what he was saying. Hounds of God? What the fudge? Was he crazy? The absolute belief he had in his words rang clear to me through his body language. I could tell he believed it.

  "Can I call you, Grazi? I hear that's your nickname."

  "Sure." I waited as he picked a chair from our table and sat down. I sat across from him. He looked at me directly and I met his gaze. He laughed and tilted his head, averting his eyes. Something in me recognized this as right and proper.

  "Your father was first in line to become pack alpha, after your grandfather, Rolf. Our family goes back generations with the Hounds. We are servants if you will, of the Holy Mother Church in Rome."

  "What if I don't want to be a servant?"

  "Our family is bound by a secret pact. So, Grazi, it's not really a choice. You're a Hound by blood and we've neglected your training for too long. We've got some serious work to do, you and I. The witches, have been preparing unchecked for too long and it's up to us to stop them."

  "Werewolves? Secret Pacts? Witches? I think someone needs a nap." I attempted to shake off what he was saying with a bad attempt at humor, but his words didn't shock me as they should have.

  "I'll tell you more as you train. Do we have a deal?"

  "Tell me now."

  "Where would I begin? There is so much you don't know. Come meet me in the basement of the Church on campus. I've set up a training room there. Come by after classes end and I'll tell you everything you want to know in time."

  That was how my long-lost Uncle Sean Gallagher Kelly, aka Fr. Gallagher, introduced me to my fate. Like my father before me, I, Maria Graziana Kelly, am a Werewolf.