curse of the alpha - episode 03 & 04 (4 page)

And wouldn’t you just know, that summer when the new fire truck was in the 4th of

July parade, Eva Cortez told everyone in town that Ainsley’s mom had personally saved the volunteer firefighters’ new engine with her heroic offer to run the plant sale.

It was easy to say that a few of the families could have easily just written a couple of checks for the fire engine with the same result and less hassle. But Mrs. Cortez knew instinctively that plant sales and their like are a way for neighbors to meet and for everyone to feel they have had a part in something important.

She always said good things came when the whole village worked together.

Ainsley was so busy reminiscing and laughing at Mrs. Cortez’s observations about a

few choice residents of Tarker’s Mills, that she was disappointed to realize there were no more cucumbers.

C H A P T E R

8

Dinner was an amazing experience.

As Grace’s grandmother served her a plate, Ainsley tried to unravel the mystery of the entree. There were familiar smells, but somehow she couldn’t place the dish.

“This smells delicious,” Ainsley said. “Can you tell me about it?”

“This is a special dish to honor my granddaughter’s heritage.” Grace’s grandmother

beamed with pride. “These are steamed Chinese dumplings stuffed with carnitas in an

ancho chili sauce.”

“Thank you, Abuela,” Grace said quietly.

“Wow, fusion cooking,” Ainsley said with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

She tried a bite, expecting the worst.

It was delicious – spicy and soft, savory and sweet all at once.

“You could make a killing cooking this in New York, Mrs. Cortez.”

“Ainsley,” the old woman chided her.

“Sorry. Abuela,” Ainsley corrected.

“And no, I don’t think New York is the right place for me. But thank you. I’m so glad you like it!”

Silence enveloped the table like a blanket as they began the feast, but by the time

the second round of wine was poured, everyone was laughing and chatting happily.

Ainsley was careful to steer clear of her issues with the pack, after Grace’s warning.

But they did talk about just about everything else. In all her high-powered real estate dealings, she had almost forgotten what a genuine, friendly conversation felt like. A discussion of politics swiftly shifted to local opinion about the new construction project.

“What do you think about the highway, Ainsley? Will it ruin the town?” Grace’s father asked.

“I know that at first it will be noisy and messy,” she explained as she had to Erik, “but the convenience to Philadelphia will draw people. I think property values will climb. Of course that will change things.”

“You know I bumped into Erik Jensen this morning, and he told me the same thing!”

Ainsley colored and took a quick sip of wine.

The topic changed, and soon enough they were all carrying the dishes into the

kitchen.

“We’re going to take Abuela for a walk, Mama, okay?” Grace asked.

“Sure, honey. We’ll see you in a little while.” Grace’s mom put both hands on Ainsley’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Now, Ainsley, remember what I said. One of the

rooms upstairs is yours – we set up a bed and a dresser for you. Move a few more things in while you have movers at your parents’ house if there’s anything from the house that you want to keep here. You’ll come home as often as you want, but I meant what I said.

I will expect a visit before Halloween, okay?”

Ainsley felt an uncharacteristic rush of emotion and she embraced Mrs. Cortez fiercely.

As she pulled back, she heard the older woman whisper, “Love you, mi hija.”

C H A P T E R

8

T he night had only cooled a few degrees by the time she and Grace and Abuela made

it outside, and the air still felt thick enough to drink. They walked the three blocks back to Ainsley’s house slowly, in deference to the old woman’s sore knees.

“So,” Abuela said, “Grace tells me you’d like to know more about your mom.”

“Yes,” replied Ainsley. “Please.”

Her heart raced in a mixture of anticipation and dread at what she might find out.

“Well, that will take me back a ways.” The old woman stopped and stared into the

distance. Her brow furrowed, as if she were gathering her thoughts. She stayed that way for the span of a few breaths. Just as Ainsley was about to break the uncomfortable

silence, the woman spoke.

“Your mother’s family was in Tarker’s Mills forever. Magic was in her blood, but no one in her family had a gift quite like hers.” Abuela studied her face. “Did you really not know she had the gift at all?”

Ainsley shook her head. They continued to walk.

“Well, she did. I’ve never seen anything like it. We all have our strengths, types of magic that we come by more easily than others. Your mother’s was nature. She could

make anything grow. There was a reason everyone in town went to her for plants and

gardening tips.”

Ainsley stopped to think about the lush garden at her house, and the way the plants

from the plant sale always had a way of surviving the car trips and sunny tables.

“So Mrs. Cortez knew?”

“Oh lord, no, child. She had no idea! Grace’s parents don’t believe in any of that

nonsense. And she doesn’t have the gift, herself. But she’d have had to be blind not to see that Sylvia had a green thumb!”

“Like Poison Ivy…” Grace said dreamily.

“Are you talking about comic books again?” Abuela scolded. “Get your head out of the

clouds. How do expect to find a decent husband when you spend all your time in a

fantasy world?”

Grace smiled indulgently and gestured for her grandmother to continue.

“Now, your dad was certainly the catch of the wolf pack. His daddy was the alpha, so

we knew Michael would follow him. He was very handsome too, so tall and strong. And

he was soft-spoken and a thinker.”

Ainsley blushed at hearing her dad described that way.

“But it’s true. Even the human women seemed to gravitate toward him. Your mom

was one of them. Though she certainly didn’t throw herself at him like some of the

others. And maybe that was part of why he fell for her so hard. Sylvia was the studious type – like you, Ainsley, and Grace.

“When the two of them got together, the wolves pitched a fit like nothing the town

had ever seen. For those of us that knew what was going on, it all made sense. For the poor townsfolk who weren’t in on the secrets, it was hard for them to understand why

half the town was boycotting Sylvia’s daddy’s store. Or why the girls at school were

throwing themselves at Michael Connor with a desperation that bordered on criminal. Or why everyone was suddenly so angry with your mama, a soft-spoken honor student.

“The pack elders tried to reason with Michael, to help him understand why he needed

to choose a wolf. But you can’t be reasoned out of something you were never reasoned

into. In the end, your grandfather put his foot down. He told them all that he was still alpha and that he was sick and tired of hearing about his son’s high school girlfriend.

They all left off, some more reluctantly than others.

“Then your parents got married. And when your grandfather passed away suddenly –

there they were.

“Now some of the wolves thought that your mom had bewitched him, even though

everyone knows wolves have a strong resistance to magic. They never did accept her.

But in the end, she helped the town with her gift and so she earned the respect of most of the pack. Do you know what she did?”

“Uh, create the tree canopy?” Ainsley guessed weakly.

“What?” Abuela said with a smile. “No, honey, that’s the town Shade Tree Commission

– run by plain old human persistence and rules about cutting down trees – ask my

daughter-in-law. No, your mom didn’t just have a knack for nature magic, She was also very,very good at helping hidden things stay hidden. She used it whenever she could to keep Tarker’s Mills off the map.”

They passed the construction site on Yale. Ainsley tried not to look for Erik but

couldn’t doing a quick visual sweep over the lot. He wasn’t there.

“But progress marches on,” Abuela said, indicating the lot with her hand. “We

certainly could use your parents now. Without his leadership and her magic, this town is headed into a lot of trouble.”

At that, there was a rumble of thunder. The first fat raindrops began to fall. They

stopped talking and sped up their walk. The smell of wet pavement filled Ainsley’s nose and the temperature immediately began to drop.

C H A P T E R

9

By the time they helped Abuela up the stairs of the Connors’ front porch, they were all damp, but no worse for wear. The light rain felt good after the sweltering heat, but the worst of the storm was still to come.

Ainsley led them back to the kitchen where she filled the copper kettle and put it on to boil. While she pulled down three mugs, Grace helped Abuela into the sturdy wooden

chair at the head of the oak table.

“Give me that candle, Grace,” the old woman said.

Grace passed the ‘Smores scented Yankee Candle to her grandmother, who

immediately fished a zippo out of her enormous pocketbook and lit it.

“Does that help to contact the spirits?” Ainsley asked, excited about what might

happen next.

“No, but it will cover the smell of this,” Abuela replied, cutting the end off an

enormous cigar and lighting it in the candle flame. “I always have a cigar and a walk after dinner.”

Ainsley bit her lip. She didn’t want a disgusting cigar being smoked in the house- but she certainly didn’t want to offend Abuela.

As she wavered, the hint of vanilla in the scent of the cigar began to remind her of the pipe her father used to smoke occasionally. She decided not to insult her guest and to enjoy the reminiscent smell.

Ainsley poured the tea and placed a mug in front of each of them. Abuela stumped out

her cigar on her saucer.

“Okay, are you ready?” she asked.

“Don’t you need anything else?” Ainsley asked, surprised.

“Did you think I was going to ask you to cut the head off a live chicken?” Abuela asked with a booming laugh.

Ainsley was embarrassed. Of course she didn’t think that. Not exactly. But she

suspected the process would be a little more elaborate than a Yankee candle and a cup of peppermint tea.

“Ainsley,” Grace chimed in. “That stuff is just in the movies. We won’t be speaking in tongues either.”

“We do hold hands, though, that part the movies get right!” Abuela said.

“The circle amplifies our magical strength,” Grace explained.

“But, I don’t have any magical strength,” Ainsley said.

“Don’t be so sure. That sort of thing usually runs in a family. And it runs strong in some. That’s how my Grace got it from me.”

“Abuela,” Grace said. “You know I’m adopted.”

“Nonsense,” said Abuela. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. ”

“I don’t know,” Ainsley muttered.

“Grace told me all about the blue light, Ainsley. No need to be so modest.”

Ainsley shot Grace a look. She should have know Grace wouldn’t keep a secret from

her grandmother.

Grace shrugged.

“Silly girls,” Abuela said, reaching for their hands. “Always did think you had all the answers.”

As soon as they joined hands, a peculiar buzzing filled Ainsley, like an electrical

current passing through her. Her eyes met Grace’s and she saw that her friend’s pupils were beginning to dilate.

Abuela’s voice rang out.

“Hello!” she called, like she had just banged on the neighbor’s screen door and was

about to let herself in.

Nothing.

“Hi, Sylvia? Michael? Are you there?”

Ainsley felt a tremor in the air. Goose bumps rose on her arms.

“That you, Sylvia?” Abuela asked casually.

Another tremor.

“Well, I know you’ll be happy to know that Ainsley is here. She’s doing very well for herself and she would like to say hello to you. She has the gift, Sylvia, doesn’t that make you proud?”

A crack of lightening illuminated the room entirely for an instant. Thunder boomed

immediately in reply. The kitchen light went out.

Ainsley bit her lip until it bled trying not to scream.

Outside, the skies opened in a torrent of rain.

“Was that?”

“That’s just from the storm, sweetie,” Abuela explained calmly. “Your mama didn’t do

that. I’m having a hard time reaching her.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Ainsley managed.

“It’s sort of like getting a busy signal,” Grace explained. “It’s like Abuela is calling, and it’s not exactly like no one is picking up. It’s more like the call can’t even go through.”

“It’s blocked, is what it is,” Abuela declared knowingly. The distinctive lines in her face were rendered even more impressive by the sweet scented candlelight.

“How can it be blocked?” Ainsley asked in dismay.

“Powerful magic,” Abuela shook her head in consternation. “But I don’t know why. And

someone is trying to come through - just not your mama.”

“My dad?”

Abuela shook her head.

“Again, if you think of it like a telephone call, it’s like we’re hearing part of someone else’s conversation on the line,” Grace explained.

“On purpose?”

“We don’t know.”

Ainsley sucked her lower lip where she’d bitten it. This was insane. Had she really

expected anything to happen? Maybe she was just going crazy from too much time in a

small town.

“Abuela, can we try to open a portal for them?” Grace asked quietly.

Abuela only stared at her.

“This is important. She needs help. Badly.”

“We can’t leave it open long. Just enough that if they’re in trouble they can get

through quickly. Then we close it again.”